Road Trip: BBQ Delivered with Attitude (The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Book 20)

by Michael Anderle

  Pride, fucker. And falls.

  James reached into a pocket and pulled out a small golden derringer. “You think you can control me that easily?”

  Jonathan stepped back with a lopsided grin. “Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean I didn’t shield myself.” His thugs spread out, scowls consuming their faces. “Maybe you need to understand the stakes better.” He whispered a spell. A quick flash surrounded Calista, and she groaned, her eyes opening.

  “Mr. Brownstone?” The girl sat up and clutched her stomach. Her eyes widened. “You’re here!” She looked both grateful and surprised.

  The wizard clucked his tongue. “A young woman in the prime of her early life. After such adversity, she has a chance to make something of herself. Wouldn’t it be a shame if she died here?” The casual happiness infusing his tone made the declaration that much more sickening. “Here’s how it’s going to work. Her price just doubled. I’m going to send some of my men with you for more money. You’ll bring it back here, and I’ll let her leave. I might want some money in the future, but I can be reasonable.”

  Whispy’s murder request was nearly a drumbeat in James’ mind.

  “You don’t understand,” James replied.

  “What don’t I understand?” Jonathan asked.

  “I can’t let anyone blackmail or extort me.” James raised the derringer, pointing it at Calista. “It sets a bad precedent. Anyone who thinks they can will try to push my family and me, and I’m supposed to be retired. If I have to deal with this kind of shit, it’ll mean I can’t concentrate on my restaurant and wife and kids. I’m supposed to only be worrying about fucking barbeque.”

  The girl’s eyes widened. “Mr. Brownstone?”

  I trust you, Shay, James thought. But I really don’t like having to put her through this.

  Jonathan threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, please. Do you really think I would fall for that? You’re trying to tell me you’re going to shoot an innocent girl rather than give me money? How stupid do you think I am? Stop this pathetic farce and put the gun down.”

  The surprisingly loud report of the derringer echoed throughout the room. Calista’s body jerked and she slumped forward, her arms under her body. The gun darkened and cracked. James tossed it on the ground.

  “Wait.” Jonathan blinked several times, then stared at Calista. “What? Impossible. That’s not a normal gun. I felt magic. What did you do?”

  “I had to be sure.” James shifted his gaze from Calista to the wizard. “I needed to remove the shield you were hiding behind. I told you. I can’t allow some things. You’ve pushed me too far, and now you’re gonna pay for that.”

  “What magic? What spell?” Jonathan swallowed.

  “Don’t worry about it,” James growled, and his nostrils flared. “You’re gonna be dead soon enough. You can ask the Devil about it in hell.”

  Kill the enemy, Whispy shouted.

  Yeah. Let’s do that.

  His family. His friends. His church. His orphanage. His town.

  The underworld was supposed to understand one simple fact: they didn’t mess with his world. If they didn’t, he might not fuck theirs up. But if they stepped over the line, they weren’t allowed to beg to go back to the way things were. It was time for a refresher lesson.

  “You thought you could get away with this shit?” James asked, glaring at the wizard. “You thought you could throw that girl at me and make me cheat on my wife? You just said all that shit about how you studied my life, and that was your plan? You dumbass piece of shit.”

  Jonathan stepped back and pointed his wand at James. “You’re still outnumbered, Mr. Brownstone.” His voice quivered. “Your victory isn’t assured.”

  “You studied my life. You sure of that?”

  “I’ve already enchanted my guards,” Jonathan noted. “We were prepared and waiting for you.”

  “You thought you could threaten to burn down my fucking orphanage and murder priests from my church, and I wouldn’t fucking find out and kill you?” James yelled. Heat suffused his body. His heart galloped as Whispy screamed for blood. “I’ll give you credit for one thing.”

  “What’s that?” Hope crept into Jonathan’s voice. The poor fool actually thought he might survive. A sliver of pity pricked James before being washed away by the torrent of anger.

  “You did something that’s hard to do anymore. You got me not just annoyed, but really fucking pissed. Good for me. I don’t have to waste an artifact. Bad for you, because I don’t know if I’m gonna rein it in this time. There might not be much of you left when this is all done.”

  “W-we can work something out, Mr. Brownstone,” Jonathan insisted, sweat beading on his forehead. “I-I can pay you.”

  “You just got done saying how I had a bunch of money I don’t need,” James rumbled. “Why would I need more?”

  Power sufficient for extended advanced transformation, Whispy reported.

  Good. Time to kill.

  Tendrils shot from the amulet, coating James’ body until it finished growing the silver-green biometallic armor, which proved too much for his clothes. The thick armor challenged the seams of the coat. He tore it off and tossed it to the ground as his helmet sealed around him, his now-wider vision returning after a few seconds. A blade extended from his right forearm and claws grew from his hands.

  James roared. The wizard and his thugs flinched.

  “Time to die, Jonathan.”

  Chapter Nine

  Jonathan stepped back, some of the fear vanishing off his face. He grinned. “Okay, there it is. I’ll admit it scared me a little, but now that I understand you use magic objects that don’t emit magic somehow, it’s easier to deal with you.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small dart. “Remember, I did study you, Mr. Brownstone, and I knew you wouldn’t reach maximum danger until you put on your magic armor.”

  James stomped forward, growling. “If you come here and get on your knees, I’ll kill you quickly. You might die quickly otherwise, but no guarantees.”

  The wizard held up the dart. “You know about this?”

  The thugs exchanged nervous looks.

  “I don’t give a fuck,” James snarled.

  “You’re not the only ones with artifacts, Mr. Brownstone.” Jonathan threw the dart into the air and whipped up his wand. He chanted off a quick spell, and the dart shot toward James, exploding in a cloud of thick green mist around him. “In a few seconds, all your magic will be suppressed, and then I’m going to kill you and become the most feared man in Los Angeles. Maybe even the country.”

  James took a step out of the mist. “There’s something you need to understand. Something that all your fucking research didn’t tell you.”

  The wizard kept a smile on his face, but he stepped behind some of the thugs. “What’s that?”

  “This shit isn’t magic.” James flew across the room, his blade pointed down.

  Blood splattered on the ground as he landed on top of a thug, his blade poking through his head. He yanked out the weapon and stood, whipping the blood off his weapon.

  “Damn it,” Jonathan muttered. He raised his wand, rattling off another spell.

  A fiery nimbus surrounded two of the thugs closest to James. They both charged him and threw flaming punches and kicks. The blows barely registered. He might as well have been attacked by kids from the restaurant.

  Maximum adaptation already achieved, Whispy reported.

  James decapitated the men with two quick swipes of his blade. He roared as their headless bodies collapsed to the ground. Jonathan pelted him with a fireball and a quick blast of lightning. They blackened his armor but didn’t penetrate.

  “Take him down!” Jonathan screamed.

  The men hesitated.

  James didn’t move. “Go ahead and try. If you run, I’ll kill you anyway. No one leaves this room alive today.”

  One of the thugs sprinted for the door. James leapt on top of him, tearing into him with hi
s claws. The crunching and ripping were over in seconds, leaving a mangled corpse missing most of its center.

  “You will all die because you helped him,” James growled.

  Jonathan rapidly chanted under his breath. A bright glow surrounded him, following by numerous small orbs. His men charged, screaming in fear and desperation.

  James skewered one man before tearing the throat out of another. They pummeled him, their glyphs now flashing with each hit, different colors suffusing their fists.

  Maximum adaptation achieved to existing attack types, Whispy reported.

  One man met his fate by being sliced in half. Several more lost their heads. The closest James came to mercy was the few he stabbed through the heart. In less than a minute, the bodies of the enchanted thugs lay all over the blood-soaked floor. All their efforts and magical enhancements, and he’d felt almost nothing.

  The wizard hadn’t run. Hadn’t attacked. He’d spent the entire short fight casting spell after spell on himself. Besides the energy fields surrounding him, a shiny golden sheen covered his skin.

  “You’re not the only one with tricks,” Jonathan insisted, his voice trembling. He pointed his wand at the ground around James and shouted another spell. Several marble hands ripped from the floor and tightened around the raging Vax, who struggled but couldn’t move.

  “Ha!” The wizard let out a high-pitched laugh. “I win. Y-you can’t kill what you can’t even attack. You’re strong, but are you strong enough to muscle out of marble?”

  “You didn’t study enough,” James growled. “I’ve learned my own tricks over the years.” Lines of green energy danced and sparked on the blade, increasing in intensity. They shot from it and spread all over his body until a bright green glow surrounded him. A column of energy blasted from his body, vaporizing the marble hands and punching a hole through the ceiling.

  “Woah,” Davion transmitted. “Careful there, brah. That blast went pretty high.”

  James pointed his arm blade at the wizard. More energy cascaded down it. “You should have never even thought about it.”

  Jonathan screamed his incantations in rapid succession. A fireball and three different colors of magical rays erupted from his wand. All struck James square in the chest, but the armored man only grunted as he continued his own attack. The wizard’s courage finally failed him, and he turned to run.

  With Davion’s words at the edge of his consciousness, James dropped to one knee and raised the angle of his arm. A blinding green beam erupted from his blade and incinerated the top half of the wizard’s body. The rest of it tumbled to the ground, charred.

  “Did I hit anything important?” James rumbled.

  “Not sure,” Davion replied. “One second. You didn’t hit anything I can see.”

  No new adaptation gained from enemies, Whispy reported, his disappointment thick in James’ mind.

  Sometimes you just need to kill a few fuckers.

  Acknowledged.

  James took a few deep breaths. Jonathan had spun him up enough to fuel his transformation, but James wasn’t like he had been before. The blind rage of the past almost never took over. He was the master now, and the symbiont his servant. He retracted his claws, blade, and helmet before walking over to scoop up Calista.

  “Your little light show got some attention,” Davion explained. “AET is on the way, along with the cops.”

  “It’s fine,” James replied as he kicked open the front door. “This shit’s all over anyway.” He carried the girl out to the front lawn and laid her down before murmuring, “Vylechit' sebya.”

  Calista’s body glowed for a moment and she sat up, rubbing her forehead, her cheeks rosier than before. “W-what happened? It can’t be. The last thing I remember is you shooting me.”

  “I did shoot you.” James shrugged. “It’s a healing gun, not a hurting gun.”

  She looked over at the house, uncertainty and fear in her eyes. “And the kidnappers?”

  James hesitated for a moment. “I didn’t want you to wake up to what I did, but they’ll never kidnap or hurt anyone ever again. I handled it.”

  Calista sighed and nodded. She looked down. “I’m sorry, Mr. Brownstone. I wish I could have done something differently.”

  “No. I’m sorry you got caught up in all this. Next time, just tell me the truth right away, and I’ll take care of it.” James turned and looked at a dark blob flying low in the sky. “When the cops arrive, let me do the talking.”

  Shay fluffed her pillow before laying her head down. “And he had a bounty, too? You’re a lucky son of a bitch, James Brownstone.”

  “Apparently, this guy specialized in kidnapping and extortion,” James explained as he emerged from the bathroom, a minty fresh feeling from his toothpaste in his mouth. He wasn’t even sure he needed to brush his teeth given his regeneration, but Whispy was unclear on the point, and he didn’t want to end up with every part of him being tough except for dentures. “This honeypot shit was his specialty. He’s done it to a bunch of politicians and CEOs. From what the cops told me, he normally doesn’t go for so much money at once. That’s one of the reasons he’s gotten away with it. No one wants to be embarrassed, and he’s not bleeding them dry.”

  “Uh-huh. And the cops aren’t giving you any heat? Or the government? I know you didn’t go Forerunner, but you blasted off your cannon in the city.”

  “The bounty wasn’t dead-or-alive, so I’m not getting most of the reward, but the bounty, combined with Calista’s statement, means they’re treating it as self-defense and protection of the girl.” James shrugged and slipped under the blanket. “From what Weber’s telling me, the high-ups want it to go away anyway. I’m guessing Jonathan had a few victims in LA. I also took some money and splashed it around, so that everyone knows what happened and why it’s a bad idea to fuck with me, even indirectly.”

  “It’s over.” Shay smiled. “I was worried this would turn into some weird stalker-fangirl thing, but idiot kidnappers? Always easier to solve. At least this way, I didn’t have to solve it myself.”

  James frowned. “Meaning what?”

  Shay gave him a wicked grin. “You’re not the only one who is willing to use a little overkill to protect what’s important.”

  Chapter Ten

  James closed the F-350 and headed toward the door to the house. After the excitement with Jolly Jonathan, the following week had been free of trouble and full of customers. He’d experimented with a few new recipes at the restaurant, although with Earth meats. If he wasn’t ready for magic cow, he doubted his regulars were either. Even Luis, who’d once claimed he’d eat a tire if James grilled it for him.

  Maybe there’s an Oriceran tire that tastes like pineapple.

  James pulled out his phone and entered Are there Oriceran tires that taste like pineapple? into a search engine. He scanned the hits, but none looked promising.

  He opened the door and stepped out of the garage, his head down as he strode toward the coat rack. He stuck his phone in his pants before pulling off his jacket. “What do you think I should do with the rest of the magic cow meat? Thomas didn’t like it either.”

  “We should discuss that at a different time,” Shay replied, tension in her voice.

  James frowned.

  She’s been in a great mood since I wrapped up that Calista shit. Wait. It couldn’t be? It’s too early.

  He turned to face her in the living room.

  Shay stood in front of the couch, her skin glowing bright silver, a 9mm in her right hand and a flaming dagger in her left. Both weapons were pointed at a slender, pale, auburn-haired woman in a tight green sweater and black jeans. The woman, who looked to be in her mid-twenties, held her hands above her head. Most of her fingers bore a gold or silver ring inscribed with runes or glyphs. James wasn’t sure which confused him more, the unseasonable fashion choice or his wife’s readied weaponry.

  Thomas lay curled up on James’ chair, his eyes closed, oblivious to the tension. A mighty guard do
g, indeed.

  James whipped out his .45 and pointed it at the pale woman. If Shay was planning to kill someone, she probably had a good reason. “Where did you get that knife, Shay? You get kicked out of guarding the Garden of Eden?”

  His wife laughed. “Seriously? That’s what you want to ask me when you come home to this?”

  “I haven’t seen it before.” James shrugged. The guest was already contained, so there was no reason to worry. Even weeks from birth, Shay could handle most threats.

  “I didn’t tell you?” Shay snickered. “I got it at the baby shower as a gift from Zoe.”

  “Interesting baby shower.” James shook his gun at the other woman. “And who is she?”

  The auburn-haired woman offered him a soft smile but didn’t speak.

  “That’s the question of the hour,” Shay replied. “I went into the kitchen to get a snack, and when I came back out, she was here, so I grabbed my weapons. She refused to identify herself and said she was waiting for you.”

  Where was she even hiding that stuff?

  The woman gently cleared her throat. “There’s no need for weapons. I mean you no harm. You can’t blame me for being a little curious, so I let myself in. I don’t know what I was expecting.” The woman looked around, running her tongue inside her cheek. “I didn’t expect it to be fancy, but I don’t know—more camouflage-y or something. Definitely more defensive magic, at least.”

  James grunted. Maybe he had a stalker problem after all.

  Shay smirked at the woman. “You’re mighty comfortable for a woman with two guns and a magic flaming knife pointed at her.”

  “I’m not trying to be a pompous bitch,” the woman replied, shaking her hands. “But I doubt any of those weapons could hurt me.”

  James holstered his gun and slipped his hand under his shirt. He didn’t pull the spacer off his amulet, but something in the woman’s green eyes told him she wasn’t bluffing. “You’re threatening my pregnant wife?”