Feared By Hell: The Revelations of Oriceran (The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Book 1)

by Michael Anderle

  “Do you think I should have done something about that? Do you think I even had time to?”

  James stared at Shay until she grimaced and looked away.

  “Just saying, is all,” she muttered.

  James looked over at the table where the drunk suited yahoos had been sitting. “If you need my help, you’ll get it. If you don’t need it, you won’t get it. It’s a waste of time otherwise.”

  “And your time’s that valuable, Brownstone?”

  He grunted, a small smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, that’s why I get the big bucks.”

  Shay watched him for a moment before shaking her head and focusing on her drink. Maybe Brownstone was gay, maybe he wasn’t. He might be a gentleman, or a first-rate ass. She just didn’t know what to think of the guy.

  That, more than anything, made her uneasy.

  6

  Shay eyed the tiny rickety prop plane, wondering if she and James would die on their way to rather than at or back from the tomb in northern Peru.

  The first leg of their trip, which took them to Tapachula, Mexico, had been pleasant enough if a little boring, but at least they had been in a jet and not something that looked like it had been found in some old aviation museum.

  The pilot waved from beside the plane. The man’s cheerful energy was infectious, but with his leathery skin he resembled a mummy more than a living person.

  Shay couldn’t estimate his age. He might just have spent a few extra years working the fields, or he might be ready to stroke out the minute they hit turbulence.

  “Jesus,” Shay muttered. It wouldn’t be her worst bit of travel since starting her career in freelance archaeology, but it might be a contender.

  James took a good look at the plane while he adjusted the straps on his backpack. “The Professor guarantees this guy. He knows a lot of places where we can land and take off without attracting too much attention.”

  “Like the oceans or the tops of the mountains?” Shay grinned. “Whatever. I’m going to sleep the whole time, so if we crash it’ll be over before I even know what’s going on.”

  They started toward the plane.

  James cleared his throat. “They might not be there, you know.”

  Shay glanced at him. “Who?”

  “The Brujos Rojos.”

  “That’d be great, but I doubt we’ll get so lucky.”

  “I’ll deal with anyone who needs to be dealt with,” James rumbled. “More bounties, more money.”

  Shay eyed the man for a second, wondering if he believed she’d never killed anyone. They didn’t need to get into that, so she didn’t bother to offer up her thoughts on the subject.

  Some shit needed to remain private.

  They closed on the plane now, and a side hatch lay open. The pilot leaned against the plane, his arms crossed.

  “Hola!” the pilot called. “Neither of you gringos get sick in planes, do you? Gonna be a long trip.”

  They’d made it.

  The jeep rumbled down the dirt track, bouncing and shaking the entire time. While they didn’t have the luxury of taking a true road to the dig site, they’d managed to find an abandoned logging path that would get them close. After so many hours on a cramped plane, a few hours in a jeep driving through rough terrain felt like heaven.

  Shay didn’t care, as long as they got to the site. Finding the Rod of Supay would make her a lot more money, and burnish her tomb-raiding reputation.

  Colorful plants and animals passed in a blur, mostly ignored by the treasure hunter and the bounty hunter. They were more concerned about their mission than sightseeing.

  James stared into the jungle as if he expected the warlocks to burst through the brush at any second.

  Shit, for all Shay knew they would. Her focus wasn’t on fighting and hunting every crazed rogue magical group out there. That was why she’d brought the big guy.

  James had barely spoken since they’d gotten into the jeep, not that he’d spoken a lot before that. The guy liked to deliver a few smart-ass remarks, then retreat into watchful silence.

  Being this close together only reinforced in her mind that James was probably gay. He was damned fussy with his equipment and his weapons. Plus, the bastard hadn’t made one move on her the entire time.

  “You know, Brownstone, you could talk.”

  “I don’t know how,” James joked. “Sometimes I forget.”

  “This might end up being pretty boring and not profitable for you if your boys don’t show up.”

  James peered into the jungle ahead. “Oh, they’ll show up.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “The bait’s too great, and the Professor wouldn’t have bothered asking me to come if he didn’t think you needed me.”

  “That’s a comforting thought.”

  James grinned. “Well, I’m not here to make you feel better. I’m here to take out any bastards that bother us.”

  Shay slowed the jeep when what looked like a large mound in the distance caught her eye. “Looks like we’re almost there.”

  The only problem was the trees thickening ahead of them. Where was a clear-cut when you needed it?

  They both fell back into silence and searched the area for any signs of recent passage. From what James had told Shay on the first leg of their plane trip the Red Warlocks specialized in blood magic, so at least they wouldn’t have to worry about a fireball exploding over them out of nowhere.

  Shay frowned and brought the jeep to a stop.

  “We’ll have to hoof it from here. Too bad. A few miles in the jungle isn’t a recreational hike.” She sighed.

  James moved his head back and forth, popping his neck. “Then we’d better get going.”

  The trip through the jungle went faster than James expected, and they now stood in front of a crumbling stone archway and weathered stairs leading into inky darkness below. Torn small flags and the occasional discarded tool hinted at the last group of explorers.

  “At least we didn’t have to do a lot of climbing,” Shay said, linking her fingers and stretching her arms above her. She followed that by double-checking her holster, her machete sheath, and her knife sheath.

  “Sure.”

  James could appreciate her attention to murderous detail. Even the most powerful warlock couldn’t do shit if you got the drop on him and blew his brains out—not to mention cutting off his head.

  The noise of the jungle surrounded them: the flutter of birds’ wings, buzzing of insects, the shuffling of God-knew-what. A powerful and evil magical artifact might lie inside this ancient tomb.

  Evil energy had a way of attracting evil.

  The sound of running water in the distance reached the bounty hunter’s ears and he stopped for a moment, thinking about the map they’d studied. He didn’t need to bring out a device to check.

  The tomb site lay atop a tall cliff, with a river snaking past well below it. The site was inaccessible from that side because of the difficulty of scaling a cliff in the middle of dense jungle, but in an emergency they could probably climb down and follow the river.

  They approached the stone arch, and after exchanging glances, they pulled out their flashlights and turned them on. The beams cut into the darkness, revealing nothing but stairs descending to a dusty chamber below.

  “Let’s do this,” Shay exclaimed.

  James gave her a nod.

  Their footsteps echoed in the eerie silence until they arrived at the bottom of the stairs, where smaller tunnels proceeded off in three directions. Their equal spacing around the room made them hard to differentiate. Shay could see how a person could easily get disoriented in the chamber.

  Not that it bothered her. She’d paid close attention to her angle as they entered the chamber, and she knew exactly where to go.

  The treasure hunter pointed to her left. “That leads to the main burial chamber. Given the small size of this place, I think it’ll be easy to find the rod.” She stepped toward the tunnel.

&nbs
p; “Glad some things in life are easy,” James replied.

  Shay grinned. “This place has mostly been excavated already, so we don’t have to worry about traps or anything until we get near the main burial chamber.” She grinned, a sinister visage given that her face was cloaked in the shadows of the tomb.

  Excitement swelled in Shay.

  For all the talk of the creepy warlocks, she would be able to snag the artifact without much trouble in the end. Getting a payday would be sweet enough, but being able to do it without breaking a sweat?

  That was a big-assed bonus.

  Shay chuckled to herself, thinking about James as their footsteps echoed and mingled in the narrow passageway. Even though the gay bounty hunter insisted that he had nothing but respect for her skill, he probably still carried some doubts. Recovering this artifact would prove to him that she had what it took, and then…

  Then what? Shay furrowed her brow. It wasn’t like the man was going to eat his words. He’d already said that he trusted in her skills. She gritted her teeth. It was frustrating when she was ready for a fight but the other person wouldn’t play.

  James continued to walk beside her in silence, step after step. The sound was almost hypnotic when she focused on it.

  It took her a few moments to accept what she was hearing: a strange buzzing that had not been there before. She was sure of it.

  In any other place, the slightest background noise would have swallowed the buzzing. Birds tweeting or the slight rustle of the wind would have been more than enough to mask it, but there in the shadows of the tomb with nothing but the eternal silence of death, the quiet sound stood out as if someone were screaming.

  Shay’s heartrate kicked up and she froze in place, then slowly turned around, her hand dropping to the holster. Taking a deep breath, she pulled her weapon out.

  James had already drawn his pistol. “You heard it, too. I’m impressed,” he whispered.

  Shay smirked despite the situation and peered into the darkness, holding her flashlight arm under her pistol arm to help better steady both. Her beam joined the bounty hunter’s in piercing the darkness.

  It didn’t take long to find another anomaly. Her beam caught a faint shimmer near the entrance, just past where they’d entered the tunnel. Her partner’s beam caught something that made her hiss.

  James had changed his angle toward the floor while Shay lighted the shimmer. Bloody footsteps marred the floor.

  The shimmer vanished, and three men in scarlet robes winked into sight.

  “If you leave now,” one of them said, “you won’t die. You cannot defeat the Brujos Rojos. Your greed has brought you to your doom.”

  “Okay, guess that confirms that they’re bad guys,” Shay mumbled.

  James holstered his pistol. “Yeah, I’d worry a lot more about your own doom there, assholes.”

  “What the hell are you doing?” Shay whispered. “Are you planning to talk them into submission?”

  James chuckled. “If only that would work.” The bounty hunter shook his head, although he kept his gaze locked on the three men. “I’ve dealt with the Brujos Rojos before,” he whispered. “They like to get close. If they can get a good cut on you, their blood magic is fucking vicious.”

  “Isn’t that more of a reason to shoot them from very far away?”

  “Nope.” He shrugged. “Go ahead and take a shot.”

  Shay frowned. The men’s threat had made their identity clear, and even if they were willing to let the field archaeologist and her support go, they’d get control of the zombie rod. She wasn’t about to lose her payday and let some asshole warlocks get a free artifact. She pulled the trigger.

  One of them men jerked, and Shay grinned. She had plenty of confidence in her weapons skills, but it was satisfying to see a bad guy go down.

  Except that he didn’t. The struck warlock remained silent as he dropped his robe to the ground as if in challenge, pointing to a huge wound on his shoulder. Even though his face was contorted in pain, the flesh was already repairing itself.

  “Something about soul proximity or some shit,” James said. “Overly complicated crap. All I know is that they are dangerous up close, but they are also weak up close. And if they are out cold, their magic is worthless.”

  The bounty hunter sprang at them suddenly, surprising Shay, and from the startled jumps of the warlocks, he surprised them as well. Their fingernails grew into glistening claws, but the charging bounty hunter had already closed the gap.

  He slammed a fist into the head of the closest warlock, and his victim crashed into a wall with an echoing thud before falling to the hard stone paving the floor of the tunnel. Taking advantage of his momentum, James continued his assault by landing a spinning kick square on the chest of a second warlock. The guy smashed headfirst into the tunnel wall opposite the first victim.

  He grinned. Beating down child-snatching warlocks was damn satisfying.

  Two down, one to go. The remaining warlock was Shay’s bullet sponge from before.

  His wound had already sealed itself.

  The bastard offered James a sickening grin. He’d taken the time to cast a spell while his friends were getting the beat-down. A bloody film now covered the warlock’s eyes, and they glowed with a soft crimson light.

  His newly-grown claws dripped dark liquid.

  Shay slammed her pistol into her holster and sheathed her knife. She didn’t want to let Brownstone show her up, but she didn’t have to be an expert mage to recognize that the warlock now had poison-tipped claws. The power of blood magic couldn’t be easily dismissed.

  James stared at the man for a second before shaking his head. “Still not too late to surrender, asshole.”

  Apparently the power of blood magic was easily dismissed if you were an Angeleno bounty hunter.

  The warlock yelled and slashed at James, and he grabbed the guy’s arms and yanked hard to either side, dislocating both the man’s shoulders. A blood-curdling scream filled the chamber. James finished by headbutting the warlock’s face, and the man’s nose crunched and his eyes rolled up. James let go, and the unconscious man fell to the ground.

  Shay caught up to James. “Okay then, Brownstone, I’ll admit it. You’ve got skills.”

  James pointed with his thumb at the other end of the tunnel. “You go get the Rod. I’ll deal with these jokers.”

  Shay nodded and jogged back the way she’d come, her heart still racing from the short fight. She’d not expected that the warlocks would be too much trouble, but she’d also expected they would have been at least a little bit of a problem. James’ presence had been a great help, even if she didn’t want to stress that to him.

  The tunnel gave way to an octagonal room. A large stone sarcophagus dominated the center, its lid already removed by the previous expedition and its occupant also gone.

  Shay didn’t care, since she wasn’t there for a dead Inca. She was there for a rod that made dead people walk. She circled the chamber, carefully pointing her flashlight at the junctures where the walls met the floor. Her research had suggested there was a hidden area in the room.

  A couple of minutes’ effort rewarded her search, although she would have missed it if she hadn’t known exactly what she was looking for: a small carving in the wall that when looked at from a certain angle and illuminated with only a single beam of light resembled a stylized humanoid figure.

  The earlier expedition might have eventually found it if they’d not had to worry about things like Communist insurgents. Shay snickered to herself. When she’d taken the job, she’d not been worried about the idea they might run into local rebels. Brownstone didn’t seem to care either. The only real threat were the warlocks.

  Of course, even if the earlier expedition hadn’t fled, they wouldn’t have found what she sought. From what the Professor had told her, the magical shielding of the site had concealed hidden treasure chambers like the one she was about to open.

  There was probably gold and jewelry to be f
ound, but she didn’t care. The payoff from the Rod alone would make the trip worthwhile, and she didn’t want to stick around in case more warlocks showed up. Handling thirty might not be as easy as handling three.

  Even if the expedition had found the spot on the wall, she doubted they would have been able to figure what to do next. Being a “field archaeologist,” whether you wanted to call someone in that profession a treasure hunter or tomb raider, required equal parts daring and knowledge.

  “Blood freely given will reveal the sacred treasure,” Shay recalled. She grabbed her knife and sliced the tip of one of her fingers. Rubbing her hand over the carving, she grinned to herself.

  I’m damn good.

  The burial chamber rumbled, and Shay straightened, crossing her arms and waiting. The wall parted on the other side, revealing a small stone box and a faded wall painting of a dark-eyed man in a dark cloak wearing a round golden headpiece. She’d seen similar depictions in her research for the job.

  It was undoubtedly Supay.

  Shay spent a minute to search around the box for any indications of a trap. Satisfied that she wasn’t about to be blown up or poisoned, she pushed the lid off, releasing a cloud of dust.

  A curved bone rod lay inside. Swirling patterns and sigils that Shay didn’t recognize decorated the artifact.

  Not taking any chances, Shay slipped some gloves on before grabbing the Rod of Supay. Fortunately, from everything she’d read, it didn’t activate without exposure to blood. She slipped the covered rod into her backpack and took a deep breath.

  “That went well,” Shay murmured to herself.

  She had to admit that if she’d been by herself, she might have misjudged the warlocks, but that didn’t mean they would have won. It wasn’t that she needed Brownstone.

  He’d just made things easier.

  With the Rod of Supay in hand, Shay didn’t see any reason to stick around. She walked out of the burial chamber and headed into the tunnel. James was gone, as were the downed warlocks. Picking up the pace, Shay hurried out of the tunnel into the entrance chamber and up the stairs.