Fatal Mistake: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure (The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Book 11)

by Michael Anderle

  “Probably a good idea anyway. I find it hard to believe that he’d want to help the government after everything that happened with his daughter. The last thing we need is a loose cannon involved in such a sensitive matter.”

  Senator Johnston chuckled. “The government’s a big organization, and I’m pretty sure Mr. Brownstone understands that not everyone in it has it out for him. The problem with most people is they see a man with muscles on his muscles, a man who uses his fists to punctuate his sentences, and they assume he’s stupid. There’s a lot going on in that head of his, and he shouldn’t be underestimated.”

  The woman offered him a smile. “If you say so.”

  They lapsed into silence and continued walking.

  Senator Silvers kept the frown off her face, even though she was worried. She’d hoped she could steer the government away from interfering with her masters, especially after the fiasco with the first raid, but now they were doubling down on their efforts.

  And Brownstone. He might be trouble.

  After a few more steps, she allowed herself a small smile. No. Brownstone might be powerful, but he was only one man, and he mostly confined himself to Los Angeles. He’d beaten low-level disposable garbage.

  I saw you at your little contest in Del Mar, so smug and self-assured. You’re nothing before my masters. Maybe I should encourage Johnston’s plan just to get you killed.

  Senator Silvers forced herself to stop smirking before Senator Johnston noticed.

  James and Shay stepped into the Leanan Sídhe. Even more bodies than normal choked the pub, and everyone was cheering and whooping.

  Whatever this is, it can’t be good for me, James thought.

  After a few steps, the bounty hunter grunted at the large banner hanging over the bar.

  BARD OF FILTH COMPETITION.

  The bounty hunter sighed, and Shay snickered.

  “Damn it,” James muttered. “I should have paid more attention to when it was happening next.”

  “It’s Brownstone,” someone shouted.

  The crowd parted, clearing a path from James and Shay to the Professor. The older man stood in front of the banner, ruddy-faced and smirking. A disappointed frat boy next to him hung his head.

  The Professor turned his grin on James. “The competition’s over and I’ve defended my title, but how about a little exhibition round? A little something for the fine crowd.”

  James frowned. “What the fuck do you mean by that?”

  I should have never come here tonight.

  “You almost beat me once, lad, and even though you can’t win the title from one limerick, your adoring public does await.” The Professor threw his hands to his sides. “Do you want to hear him deliver some dirty limericks?”

  The crowds cheered and started chanting, “Brownstone.”

  James scrubbed his face with his hand. “I did that shit before because I owed you, and I’m never doing it again. Get over it.”

  The chanting died down, with more than a few disappointed faces appearing in the crowd.

  Fuck all of you.

  Shay grinned. “What about me?”

  The Professor raised an eyebrow and grabbed a mug of beer off the bar to take a drink. “That I’d almost pay to hear.” He raised his mug above his head. “If James won’t give us what we want, how about we let the lovely Miz Carson deliver us a quick limerick?”

  The crowd roared their approval and started chanting, “Carson.”

  James sighed and shook his head, then leaned against the bar and crossed his arms. As long as he wasn’t doing it, there was only so much he could complain.

  The noise died down to a mere murmur. Shay furrowed her brow and stared down at the ground. When she lifted her head, she stared right at James with the largest shit-eating grin a human could achieve without magic.

  The bounty hunter grimaced and resisted the urge to run for the door.

  Oh fuck. This is gonna be bad. Drow-queen bad.

  Shay cleared her throat and turned to the crowd.

  “There once was a sailor named Jacques,

  Toughest bastard near the docks,

  At night, he did not kill,

  Instead, he chose to spill,

  Cum from his largest of cocks.”

  The Professor smirked. James groaned and face-palmed. The audience, in contrast, exploded in laughter and cheers.

  James blinked.

  At least it wasn’t about me. But, shit, she pulled that out after just a few seconds of thinking? I had to get special training to pull it off.

  “Carson, Carson, Carson!” the crowd chanted.

  The Professor held up his hand, and the crowd quieted after a few more chants.

  “Alas, Miz Carson, because you didn’t participate in the full competition you can’t win, but had you, you might now be the new Bard of Filth.” Smite-Williams shook his head. “I’m glad you came too late.”

  Shay smirked and crossed her arms. “Maybe next time you have one of your little contests, I’ll stop by to display my fine wordsmithing to your drunk ass.”

  He smiled. “Please do. I’ll have to bring my A game next time, Miz Carson.” He waved to the crowd. “But the competition and exhibition are over for now. Please enjoy the rest of your night.”

  The crowd began to break up, murmurs and chatting filling the pub.

  The Professor nodded to a table across the room. James and Shay made their way over there while he took a few moments to shake people’s hands and get a new mug of beer. When he finally dropped into a seat across from them, his face was redder than a lobster.

  James grunted. “You’re the one who called us, but you seem more like Father O’Banion than Professor Smite-Williams at the moment. How the fuck are we supposed to talk about business when you’re like that?”

  Shay snickered.

  The older man waved a hand. “Even Father O’Banion can be professional when he needs to be.” He punctuated the sentence by gulping down more beer. “And it’s not much business. At least not yet. I just wanted to give you a little heads-up, lad, concerning the museum thieves.”

  James snorted. “What do I care? They’re all dead.”

  He resisted growling. Those bastards had dared to kidnap Shay, and he was only irritated that he couldn’t kill them again. He didn’t give a shit if Whispy Doom liked it. The amulet’s bloodlust and his desire to protect his woman had worked together nicely.

  “That they are,” the Professor replied, “but their employers aren’t, and there are still several artifacts unaccounted for that their employers likely have their hands on.”

  “Employers? Those guys weren’t the ones running it?”

  Shay leaned forward. “Makes sense. That crew didn’t seem quite at the level to be coordinating all that shit themselves, and the level of magic they had was a bit much for some snatch-and-grab thieves.”

  The Professor nodded. “The government, with the aid of other interested parties, has determined that a group called ‘the Council’ is involved. They were able to locate a hideout and they launched a raid, but their forces were wiped out. Now they have a new plan based on some newer information. They’re recruiting elite bounty hunters as part of two teams to go after them.” He sighed and shook his head.

  James shrugged. “What’s the problem, then? If the government’s putting together a bunch of badasses, they’ll finish off these Council fuckers soon enough. I killed the guys I needed to kill already.”

  The Professor frowned. “Have they contacted you?”

  The bounty hunter shook his head. “Nope.”

  “And you don’t want in? These people, however, indirectly, did injure you and yours.”

  James shrugged. “The fuckers who were responsible for taking Shay and threatening Alison are dead, so I don’t know if I really give a fuck. If they want me, they need to come and ask, especially since this shit doesn’t sound like it’s just a matter of driving to Lincoln Heights to kick some ass. I don’t want to fly halfway
across the world to do it.”

  The Professor picked up his mug and gulped the contents before slamming it down on the table. “I want you to go, lad. I’m concerned about some of those artifacts, and I’d feel better knowing you were involved. I also know you can resist certain dangerous temptations. I can’t say that for every bounty hunter who might otherwise be involved.”

  Shay chuckled. “It’s negotiation, Professor. First off, it’s not like James is responsible for stopping every bad thing that happens in the world. If the government wants him involved, they can come with a truck full of money. And it’s not like they didn’t have a chance to contact him already. James isn’t exactly an obscure figure in the world of bounty hunting.” She shrugged. “Not only that, it’s not like he has any reason to trust the government. Whenever they’re involved someone’s going to get screwed, so it’d be better if they came with hat in hand.”

  James grunted and nodded his agreement.

  The Professor sighed. “I can see what you’re saying, but I do want those items out of circulation. I’ll have to ask around and see what their plan is. If we’re lucky, the government’s plan will go well even if you’re not involved.”

  A waitress appeared with a new beer.

  He smiled up at her. “Just in time. Don’t want to risk sobering up.”

  James could see the disappointment on the Professor’s face, but he didn’t care. The Council wasn’t his business until someone made it his business.

  About an hour later, Shay pulled her Fiat into a parking spot in front of a liquor store.

  James looked at her. “We were just at a bar. Why are we stopping here?”

  “Because we didn’t drink at the bar. We just watched Smite-Williams drink, and I want to make you a Three Wise Men. I think you’d like it.” She shrugged. “Always trying to find new ways to force you outside the tiny box you call life. Tonight my method is triple whiskey.”

  He grunted and got out his earbuds. “Okay, I’m just going to listen to a little barbeque podcast while you’re shopping then. No reason for me to go in there.”

  Shay smirked. “It’s not like I’m going in there for a new fall wardrobe. It won’t take that long.”

  James shrugged. “Now that I’m leading a barbeque team in competition, I need to live and breathe barbeque.”

  She laughed and opened the door. “If you lived and breathed barbeque any more than you do now, you’d start sweating God Sauce.”

  Shay shut the door and headed toward the liquor store, shaking her head. Her last glance over her shoulder at her man revealed that he was looking down, his eyes closed and his earbuds in.

  He’s changed a lot, but he’s more fanatical than ever about barbeque. Don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. At least he doesn’t hate pizza.

  Shay chuckled a little and entered the store, an electronic chime signaling her entrance. The bored-looking clerk gave her a polite nod. She grabbed a basket and then headed toward the whiskey section. A little private booze party would make her night fun.

  Let’s see. They have plenty of Johnnie Walker, Jim Beam, and Jack Daniels. Wonder if I should grab some others as an experiment?

  She reached down to grab a few bottles.

  How much whiskey is too much?

  The car screeched to a halt in the liquor store’s parking lot, and the hoods pulled on their ski masks and grinned at each other.

  “You ready?” asked one.

  His partner nodded, and they looked at the driver. “Keep the fucking engine going so we don’t have a repeat of that bullshit from last time. I still can’t believe that shit.”

  The driver shrugged. “Not my fault the engine had trouble starting. I told you we needed to replace the solenoid.”

  “Just saying. Keep the engine going.”

  The first hood opened his door and pulled out his gun on his way to the entrance. The second hopped out and sauntered after him.

  “Put your hands up, and nobody fucking move,” the first hood shouted after he threw open the door.

  The clerk raised his hands high, a weary look on his face but not much fear.

  Two customers standing in line quickly set their booze on the counter and lifted their hands as well, their eyes wide.

  The second hood moved from aisle to aisle, his gun out. The most annoying thing about robberies was when he ran into damned wanna-be heroes. He frowned as he spotted a hot dark-haired woman holding a basket filled with whiskey bottles.

  Maybe she’d been listening to music and just didn’t hear him, but he couldn’t see any earbuds.

  “What the fuck are you doing, bitch?”

  Being hot didn’t mean he was going to let her fuck up their robbery.

  The woman looked at him. “What? You talking to me?”

  There wasn’t even a hint of fear on her face, even though he was the one with a gun.

  The hood brandished his pistol. “This is a fucking robbery. Do you understand that, bitch?”

  She shrugged. “Look, I’m trying to make some serious booze decisions here.” She waved him away dismissively. “Just go away and leave me alone.”

  The hood stomped over to her. Now she was disrespecting him. He didn’t need a murder rap, but maybe a few weeks in the hospital would teach the woman some respect. He swung his gun at her. A little pistol whipping would shut her mouth.

  The dark-haired hottie jerked back, dodging his attack. He swung again, but she spun to the side, her bottles clinking in her basket.

  His heart rate kicked up. He didn’t understand how she was dodging him.

  The woman glared at him. “Last chance, asshole.”

  “Stay still, you fucking whore,” the man screamed, “or I’ll fucking kill you. You understand me?”

  She narrowed her eyes and set her basket down. “What did you just say to me?”

  The man smirked. “Yeah, that’s better. Get on your knees and say you’re sorry. Maybe I won’t beat your ass then for disrespecting me.”

  She cracked her knuckles. “I’ve got a different suggestion.”

  “What’s that, bitch?”

  Her knee was in his stomach before he’d even registered that she’d moved. He doubled over, his dinner threatening to come up. Lightning-fast punches pounded his face, and he was unconscious before he even hit the ground.

  James looked down at his phone. If he’d been looking up, maybe he would have spotted the powerful roundhouse kick Shay delivered to the other thug. The man spun several times before slamming face-first into the ground. She leaned over and shook her finger at him, an angry scowl on her face.

  “Now, what you need to do,” explained the podcast host with a slow drawl, “is be willing to experiment. Sometimes it’s not about new ingredients or spices, but just about how you combine what you have. A little more vinegar here, a little less molasses there. You can try a different pepper or two. Don’t obsess over an exact recipe. That’s how your barbeque becomes boring and stale.”

  James grunted. This was all solid advice. One thing that competing had made him realize was that for all his appreciation of the different types of barbeque, he wasn’t adventurous enough when it came to preparing his own, which meant he wasn’t a true lover of the ultimate form of cooking. A true pitmaster would be able to prepare delicious barbeque for different people with different tastes.

  I need to do better. Maybe I should challenge the guys to experiment more. If they all do their own thing, we can all get better as a team.

  His eyes flicked to the rearview mirror for a moment.

  “Everyone wants to talk about Nadina,” the podcaster continued. “And, yeah, the fact that the little elf girl won shows there’s a whole range of possibilities out there, but keep in mind that she stayed true to her roots, which is why I think she won. It wasn’t that she was exotic, but rather the opposite if you think about it. She experimented with what she already knew.”

  James sighed. If only everything were about barbeque, the world
would be a better place.

  Shay waved to the clerk as she headed toward her car, her bottles in a bag. The police were on their way, and the clerk had comped her liquor in exchange for stopping the robbery.

  She laughed when she saw James still staring down at his phone. She’d been kicking ass while he was listening to barbeque shit.

  Her gaze cut to an empty car in the lot.

  That must have been theirs. Better not mention anything about the robbery since he didn’t notice. Don’t want to ruin the mood.

  Shay opened the driver-side door and slid inside. “Hear anything exciting?”

  James looked up from his phone and shook his head. “Just normal stuff.”

  The bounty hunter pounded down his third mixed drink as he took in the sight of his woman in her negligee kneeling next to him on the bed. The Three Wise Men was a nice drink, but he preferred to get straight to the action rather than worrying about more whiskey.

  Shay wrapped her arms around him and gave him a deep kiss before pulling away with a smirk. “I have to say, for such a badass you’re not that observant.”

  James grunted. “I’m observant enough. I like what I see right now.”

  She shook her head. “Not what I’m talking about. There was a robbery at the store. Gave me a nice workout when I took the thugs down, but all the while you sat and listened to your podcast.”

  He grinned. “For a tomb raider, you’re not very observant.”

  Shay frowned. “Huh?”

  “You didn’t even notice their driver.”

  She shook her head. “They didn’t have a driver. I saw their car, but no one was in it.”

  “Yeah, because I knocked his ass out, and he was sprawled forward.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  He shrugged. “Didn’t want to ruin the mood.”

  They stared at each for a few seconds before laughing.

  Shay smiled. “Well, I guess I didn’t complete my workout, because I missed the third guy. I’ll need your help with making sure I have an…appropriate workout today.”