“Yes,” Mal said.
Smoke closed his books and picked up the postcard and studied it. “An interesting item.”
“An even more interesting warning about the Black Slate,” Sidney said.
“You aren’t going to let a little postcard scare you off, are you?” Mal said. “Not after you’ve come this far. At least now you know what to expect.”
“I’m more concerned about the message, not the monsters. The fact that it is seven words caught my attention, along with the sketch of the black sun. I think there’s a greater message behind the warning.
“No doubt seven is special,” Mal said. “There are seven days of the week, seven seas, seven continents, not to mention the seven deadly sins. I could go on for a long time. Some say seven is the number of completion and perfection.”
She got the feeling there was something Mal wasn’t telling her. “Maybe that’s how many villains are on the Black Slate?”
“Er, no, not that few,” he said, rubbing his finger under his lip. “That might just be a mystery between her and Chief Howard. Don’t overthink it, hmm? We need to move on.”
“Are we in a hurry?”
“Well, Mr. Smoke’s free time is limited, and our objective, Mason Crow, is now on full alert to our presence, so we need a plan to take him.” He made his way over to the desk and began typing away on the computer. The monitors came back to life with a myriad of city scenes. “Seems he’s still holed up at his ranch, which is a good thing. Perhaps we should brew some coffee.” He pulled up an image of his living room. His wife Asia lay on the couch snoring. He spoke into a microphone by the computer. “Asia.” She didn’t stir. “Asia,” he said again. She shifted a little. “Asia!”
She jerked up into a sitting position, looking around in many directions and holding her head. “I hate it when you do that.”
“Would you be a dear and bring us some coffee down?” Mal said in a charming voice.
Asia stood up, yawned, and rubbed her eyes. “Okay.”
“Thank you, dear,” he said, switching the screen to something else. “She actually loves to make coffee. Has a little thing that she does. Wait until you try it.”
Sidney eased back into her chair and let Mal talk. He was doing his best to keep things simple. According to his own archives, the shifters had risen from the shadows over and over, aided by the forces of darkness. Good men and women would beat them back only to see them surface somewhere else and rise again. That somewhere was now DC, the most powerful city in the world. And the shifters could be anybody. She rubbed her temples with her index fingers. I hope one is not the president.
CHAPTER 21
“Wake up,” Sid said, waking from her sleep. She was resting on Smoke’s shoulder. She pushed off of him and gave him a nudge.
The ranging man slumbered over the table with drool dripping from his mouth.
Sidney made a face and shoved him again. Mal had gone off on a tirade that had taken until early in the morning. She felt like she’d been trapped in a dream, drifting between bizarre comic stories, movies, and reality. She stretched out her stiff limbs and groaned. She wasn’t sure if all of this information was helpful to her cause or not. Avoid the Black Slate. Why would anyone want a part of this? But she did.
Smoke, who had been silent the entire time, helped himself out of his chair. He lumbered over toward a fresh pot of coffee that Sidney hadn’t seen Asia bring in. “Want another cup?” he said, filling a mug. “It’s good Joe. Nice kick to it.”
“Sure.” Looking for but not seeing Mal anywhere, she got up and cruised around the room. “Seems our host is gone.” She rubbed her head. “I didn’t think he was going to ever stop talking. Did you catch all of that?”
“I did, well, at least until I started sleeping. But I’m firm on the gist of it. These shifters are murderers, and murderers have to die.” He rolled back his brawny shoulders and sent a heated glance her way. “Huh?”
“Huh, what?”
“You just have that morning air about you,” he said, coming closer. “A swelteriness.”
“I don’t think that’s a word. And it’s creepy.” She remained standing where she was and took the coffee that he offered. It was warm in her cupped hands, and for a moment she wondered if that was what she would feel like in his arms. “Care to try again?”
“Enticing.”
“Really?”
“Enchanting.”
She pushed her hair away from her face. “You’re a strange man.”
He made his way up to her, coming almost toe-to-toe. “I know, but you’re all right with that, aren’t you?”
His commanding presence drew her inches toward him. She could feel the warmth from his body. In the morning her juices started flowing. Apparently so did his. She set the coffee mug down on the metal table, bit down on her lip, and gazed up into his eyes. “What are you thinking?”
He gently rested his hands on her shoulders. “I’m thinking I don’t want to go out of this world without kissing you again.”
His hand glided down her back, sending shivers down her spine. Her heart raced. She eased her body into his. He leaned down and brought his lips to hers, delivering a soft kiss. It wasn’t anything like the ones she’d give him. It was deep. Passionate. Real. Her fingernails dug into his lower back, and she returned his efforts in kind.
“Good morning, all!” Mal interrupted in a chipper voice.
Sidney broke off the kiss, gasping for breath a little. There was a thin stream of saliva still connecting them. She brushed it away and backed up with wide eyes. Smoke stood still with his eyes closed and lips still parted.
“Is he all right?” Mal said, sauntering over. He had a covered silver platter that he set down. “What’s he doing?”
Sidney backhanded Smoke in the thigh. “Meditating, I think.”
“Never seen that technique before.” Mal took the lid off the platter. It was filled with steaming eggs, bacon, and pancakes. “I figured we could eat down here so I could continue.”
Smoke plopped down into a seat and eyed Sidney. She lifted her brows. He said, “I think the food is the only course left that is needed. What do you think, Sid?”
“I agree.”
“But there’s so much to go over.”
“We get it,” Smoke said, grabbing a handful of bacon. “Just give us what we need to hunt the bad guys. I know you’re dying to reveal something.”
Mal’s face lit up. “I’ll be right back.”
After Mal left the room, Smoke started to nuzzle back up to Sidney. She stopped him with her hand, only to find her palm pressed against his rock hard abs. Morning Glory. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”
“I thought we’d—”
She cut him off. “Keep your thoughts to yourself. And to be clear, you took advantage of a moment of weakness, so get ahold of yourself.”
He stepped back. “What do you mean by that exactly?”
“Funny,” she said with a smirk. “Now just back away.”
“But—”
“I’m not talking about this right now,” she said, drinking her coffee. “And maybe never again, for that matter.” She couldn’t look him in the eye. “It happened. It’s over. Move on.”
“Okay,” he said with a nonchalant shrug. “But just so you know, I thought that was a great kiss, and I think you thought so too.” He walked out of sight.
He’s right about that. She stared into the chocolate-colored coffee. What is he thinking? What am I thinking? She liked Smoke. What woman wouldn’t? He had rugged good looks and a boyish charm about him, but he was odd too. Something about him unsettled her, leaving her uncertain whether or not she was truly attracted to him. Probably just lust on both sides of the fence. But Lord can he kiss. A fantasy of her and him started to unfold in her thoughts.
“Agent Shaw?” a voice said. “Agent Shaw?”
“Huh?” she said, twisting around and spilling her coffee.
“Oh, don’t worry
, I’ll have Asia get that,” Mal said, walking over and taking her by the arm. “It’s time for the next stop.” He eased her up out of her chair. “Come on now.”
“Where’s Smoke?” she said. The man was nowhere to be seen.
“He’s a step ahead.”
Sidney noticed one of the shelves in the back of the room was swung open. “A secret passage? Really?”
“Just a room actually,” Mal said, leading the way inside. “Filled with many dangers.”
CHAPTER 22
The room was half as big as the one they’d been in and laid out like a weapons locker. Pistols and machine guns hung on black racks. Another wall displayed a host of archaic weapons guarded by two burnished statues of full plate armor. Smoke stood at a table, wearing only his second skin. He was trying on a pair of western gun belts. He had a grin on his face.
Sidney didn’t hesitate to share her thoughts. “That looks really stupid. Take it off.”
Smoke handled the chrome-plated, ivory-handled Colt .45 pistols with ease. They blinked in and out of the holsters and spun on his fingers before he shoved them back inside the black leather. To that effect, he added a mild, “Yeehaw!”
Sidney turned her back. At least he didn’t say Hi Ho Silver. She ran her fingers over several objects on the table. Bullets, magazines, hand grenades, and a silvery pair of flex cuffs. Hmmm.
“I thought you might like those,” Mal said from the other side of the table. “Unlike your unfortunate experience with AV, those will hold just about anything.”
“Even a minotaur?” she said.
“In theory.”
“Are these stun grenades?” Smoke said, picking up a pair of flat black metal disks.
Mal walked over, plucked them out of his hand, and set them back down on the table. “Yes. They’re on timers, and they can be activated by a radio signal or app—which reminds me.” He opened up a heavy-duty plastic toolbox and withdrew a pair of boxes and tossed them over.
Inside, Sidney found a black watch with a flexible wristband. “No, thanks,” she said, setting it down on the table. “Not my style.”
“But it’s sophisticated technology. Very helpful.”
Smoke tossed his box to Mal. “No thanks for me either. These guns and bullets will do.” He eyed the wall filled with swords, axes, spears, and other ancient weapons. “Some of those blades will, too.”
“Those are antiques from my personal collection. Leave them alone.”
Smoke’s hand stopped short of a double-bladed battle-axe with a spike on it. “Are you sure? I really would like to have this battle-axe. It’d fit perfectly between that minotaur’s horns.” He plucked it off the wall and swished it through the air.
Slice! Slice!
“Stop drooling over it, and put it away,” Mal pleaded. “It’s a priceless piece in my collection.”
Smoke twirled it in the air one last time and then placed it back on the rack with a clank. “So be it.” He started stuffing weapons and ammo into a duffel bag. Looking at Sid, he said, “I’m ready to go. Are you?”
She found an empty case on the floor and dropped guns, bullets, grenades, and a few other things inside it. She found a dark pair of sunglasses and slipped them on. They enhanced her sight. “Yeah, I’m ready.”
Mal pushed his hair back. “You aren’t taking all that.”
“Why not?” Sidney said. “Who else is going to use it?”
“That’s not the point.”
“Come on, Smoke,” she said. “You only have one more week, and we’ve got monsters to kill.”
Mal cut off their path at the doorway. “A reminder. Bring Mason Crow in alive. And it’s best to find him in the daytime. Most shifters prefer to change at night. That’s when their power is at full zenith, especially when the moon is full.” He poked Smoke in the chest. “And don’t lose that Zweite Haut suit again. If you only knew what I had to go through to recover it.”
Sidney landed some heavy slaps on Mal’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll see to it that he wears it the whole time.” She started to push by.
“No wait,” Mal said, “Just hold on one more second.” He rushed over to one of the walls that had a drawer in it, pulled it out, and produced a pill bottle. “Look. They’re ready for you this time, and I’m not going to lie. You two are on your own. The truth is, no one thought you’d get this far on this project.”
“You mean they thought we’d die,” she said.
“Well, you in particular, yes, Agent Shaw, but you’ve proven to be a formidable survivor.” His eyes brightened. “They’re impressed.”
“Well, they can kiss my ass,” she said, “And I’m not taking any drugs.” She squinted at the pill case.
“It’s my own brand of sorcery,” Mal said, dumping two bright-emerald pills into his hand.
“I thought magic was bad,” Smoke said, leering down on him.
“No, it’s not that kind. Sorcery comes from the Greek word pharmakia, hence it means drugs or pharmacy. Just a concoction of my own making.” He tried to hand the bottle to Sidney.
“No, thanks. You know the FBI does random drug testing.”
“You’re going up against great evil. It might take more than bullets or brawn to stop them. These little pills,” said Mal, shaking them in the bottle, “will certainly help level things out.”
“How, by turning us into one of them?” Sidney said.
“No,” Mal replied, “by enhancing your senses. Really. No side effects, but temporary. You’ll thank me later.”
“No,” she said, pushing by him. “I’ll put my faith in my wits and the guns on my hips.” She’d heard enough. Seen enough. And now she was ready to get away from this place. Breathe some fresh air and find some normality. Without looking back, she made her way upstairs and passed by Asia, who was once again napping on the couch. Shaking her head, Sid exited the round glass mansion and walked to her waiting car. Shoulders slumped, she set the heavy case of munitions down. She rubbed her neck. Damn, this is going to be a weird commute with Smoke.
CHAPTER 23
Rest. Sleep. That’s what Sidney needed. At 5:03 in the morning she sat up bleary eyed in her bed, contemplating her situation. She’d departed with Smoke the night before last, after leaving Mal’s home. Little had been said about what was going on between them. Instead, they had talked about how they were going to find Mason Crow the minotaur. It was a little disturbing that conversations like this were beginning to seem normal. She flopped back onto the bed.
This is crazy.
She stuffed her face in her pillow and let out a scream. She followed it with an odd laugh she’d never let out before. The FBI had given her this nutsy assignment. It was loose. Dangerous. Mysterious. She had been a rigid by-the-book soldier, but now she was beginning to like the freedom of being a shadow agent. She could tell Smoke was into it too. A fire lit behind his dark eyes when he talked about it.
I wonder what he’s doing now. She put her bare feet on the cool hardwood floor and shuffled into the kitchen. Probably feeding hay to the minotaur by now. She put on a pot of coffee, leaned on the granite kitchen counter, yawned, and rehashed their plans.
She and Smoke had decided to separate for the next few days. Supposedly, Mal was keeping tabs on any activity from the ranch and would let them know if anyone left. She didn’t buy it. The ranch was pretty far out of sight and mind, and there had to be more than one exit. There was the helicopter too. There weren’t video feeds in air space. Hm, but there was satellite tracking.
I hate counting on others.
She took a seat on the sofa, grabbed the remote, and turned on the twenty-four-hour local news. A reporter was on site at a fire scene. Fire trucks and flames were the landscape of the background. She turned up the volume and took her first drink of coffee and listened to what the reporter said.
“There are no confirmations of any casualties, but firemen are still clearing the building,” he reported. “I can feel the intensity of the flames from whe
re I’m standing, a good fifty feet away. Again, no casualties reported so far, and they are a long way off from clearing the building.”
“Probably some bloody arsonist. What’s wrong with the world?” She started to change the channel, but for some reason the reporter kept her attention. She leaned forward, hanging on the concerned tone in his voice.
The man on TV with a Geraldo mustache cleared his throat and continued with a worried look on his face. “I talked to one resident earlier, and she said it all happened so fast. Another witness said flames erupted in one lone apartment and then spread like wildfire.” He glanced back at the burning building and shielded his face from the flames and added, “But it looks like DC’s finest have the fire under control here at Rochester Apartments.”
Sidney almost spit out her coffee. “What?” Her hand trembled. That’s Allison and Megan’s place! She rushed into the bedroom and snatched up her phone. She didn’t have any texts. She punched one in to Allison. Come on. Come on. No response.
She practically jumped into her clothes, grabbed everything she typically needed, and in less than a minute she peeled out of the parking lot in her car. “Oh God, let them be all right. Please!” She dialed her contacts at the local police and fire department, but she couldn’t get through. “Damn.” She voice-texted Allison again. “Are you okay? Please answer!”
The Dodge thundered down the streets, but it was fifteen minutes later when she got there. The blaze was out, but half of the apartment complex lay in a smoky ruin against the day’s first light.
Sidney parked and rushed to the scene, hollering out, “Megan! Allison!”
Two firemen approached and one female police officer. “Miss,” the woman said, “can we help you? Do you live here?”
“Uh, my sister and niece do,” Sidney said. Her heart was pounding. Her thoughts racing. “Did you get them out? Did you get them out?”
“Ma’am, it’ll be fine.”
“Is that where the fire started?” Sidney said, pointing. “Oh my, oh my!” Allison and Megan’s second-floor apartment was nothing but charred remains. “Did it start there? Did it start there?” She rushed toward the remains.
The Supernatural Bounty Hunter Files: Special Edition Fantasy Bundle, Books 1 thru 5 (Smoke Special Edition) Page 36
