James spun and stormed off toward the door.
“Next time buy a drink, you cheap bastard,” the man called after him.
James was halfway to another contact when his phone beeped. The Professor. He put the call on speakerphone.
“Hey, Professor.”
“Good morning, lad. Sorry about having to cancel the other day. Something came up, but I’d like to meet with you later today. I’ve got an extra lecture at the college until 7:00, but right after that I want to meet you at the pub.”
“And this is about the deal for the item?”
“Aye. Miz Carson will be joining us. I think we’ll all benefit from this.”
James grunted. “Just as long as you hold up your end.”
“Have I ever not?”
There was a first time for everything.
8
King Pyro pushed into the Black Sun. The huge man inhaled deeply, loving the stale smell permeating the place. A dozen other men were scattered around the bar. Most hunched over their drinks; only a few chatted together.
What a bunch of sad pieces of shit. It’s not even worth kicking their fucking asses.
It’d been a couple days since he’d last beaten someone down, and he craved the rush. Plus, if he took someone down in this place, the right people in Los Angeles would know not to fuck with him.
The robber strutted to the bar, wanting everyone to see him. Fear was for pussies. King Pyro was the king of fire, maybe even a god. He sat down at the bar, chuckling to himself about changing his nickname.
The bartender set a beer in front of him. “On the house.”
King Pyro smirked. “Nice. What’s your name, bar bitch?”
The other man’s face twitched for a moment. “I’m Tyler. I own the place.”
“You’re just the bitch I’m looking for. You know who I am?”
“Jordan Adams. They say you go by ‘King Pyro.’”
“That’s right. I’m the damn king, and you must bow before royalty.” The criminal gave the other man a feral grin. “Word is that you’re the man to see when someone needs to buy or sell information.”
“That’s true, but I have a special offer for you today…in addition to your drink.” Tyler glanced around the bar for a moment. “Free information.”
King Pyro slammed his hand on the bar. “That’s what I like to hear.”
Tyler narrowed his eyes. “You better get your ass out of town.”
“Yeah, that’s... What?” King Pyro frowned; he hadn’t expected such a blunt statement. The man in front of him might need to be made into an example. “If you know who I am, then you know, you do not disrespect me, bitch.”
Tyler pointed to the drink. “It’s because I respect you that I’m telling you this. You don’t understand. Earlier today, Brownstone showed up looking for you. That’s not the kind of heat you need, king of fire or not.”
“Who the fuck is Brownstone? I don’t know any bitch named Brownstone, so why should I care?”
The bartender shook his head. “He’s a bounty hunter, and you don’t want to know him. If you want to stay free—or alive for that matter—get the fuck out of town while you can.”
“You think some bitch-ass bounty hunter’s gonna take down King Pyro?” The man barked a harsh laugh. “I’m not some punk-ass criminal. I’m almost… No, I am a god. I’m the God of Fire, and I burn what I want when I want.” He hopped out of his seat. “You think I’m gonna leave town without doing what I need because of a bounty hunter? You know how many cops I’ve killed? How many bounty hunters? I’m a level-fucking-four. I’m worth a lot of money, and I’m gonna force them to make me level-five.” He spread his hands to his sides and yelled, “Hey, bitches!”
Every man in the bar looked his way.
“Did you hear? I’ve got a huge bounty on me. Any of you want to take a shot at King Pyro? You could drag my ass in for a lot of cash.” He glared around the bar. “But none of you have the balls to face a god.”
A man in a worn suit stood and whipped out a Glock. “Bet you’re not bulletproof, asshole.”
“Gentleman, please don’t do this in here,” Tyler said with a weary sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is neutral ground. You know the rules. You cause trouble, you can’t ever come back to the Black Sun.”
“Sorry, Tyler. This guy’s worth a lot of money, and he’s getting on my fucking nerves. He thinks he’s big shit because of some magic? Who gives a shit? A gun is the real magic.”
“I hope the money’s worth it,” Tyler muttered. “Because assuming you survive the next few minutes, you’ll never be allowed back here again.”
King Pyro shook out his arms. “You think you can take down royalty, bitch? I rule through strength. I’m beyond human now.”
“You face is certainly ugly enough,” the man with the gun agreed.
The fire master sneered. “We’ll see how your face looks after I burn it off.”
“Let’s just take a walk down to the nearest station,” the suited man suggested, motioning with his gun. “I’m in deep with my bookie. Sorry, pal—just not your lucky day.”
King Pyro turned his back to the other man. He didn’t fear the gun, but he didn’t want to show all his cards yet. For all his bluster, he understood that a powerful ruler should be both strong and intelligent. He held his hand in front of him with a grin. Flame grew above it over the course of several seconds, and then he spun and blasted an orange-white fireball at the other man’s hand.
The sizzle of burning flesh filled the air. The other man screamed and stumbled backward, his hand cracked and charred. The half-melted gun fell to ground, hissing on contact with the floor.
“Fuck,” Tyler muttered. “This was not what I needed tonight.”
The suited man collapsed to his knees, still groaning. “My hand… My damned HAND!”
King Pyro stalked toward the man and kicked him in the stomach. “I’m feeling generous, so you don’t die, fuck. You can tell this Brownstone bitch that he will burn. He can kiss my ass. I hope this Brownstone does show up to try and take me in. I’ll enjoy killing him and showing everyone in this town who they should really be afraid of.” He grinned at Tyler. “Give me another drink, bar bitch. I’m not leaving Los Angeles until I’ve killed James Brownstone.”
Tyler sighed and shrugged. “Your funeral.”
James stepped into the Leanan Sídhe. He stopped for a moment and chuckled, thinking how the rowdy and bright bar contrasted with the Black Sun. Not only was it a more inviting place, but customers swarmed it.
He spotted the Professor sitting in a booth in the back, and the man waved merrily at him. As James closed on the man, he wondered if Father O’Banion had already come out. There were two empty glasses and a half-filled glass of beer in front of the red-faced man. O’Banion usually waited to come out until after their business was finished, but not always.
The bounty hunter slid into the booth. “Hey.”
“Good evening, lad. Miz Carson informed me that she’ll be here soon.” The Professor glanced toward the door, then smiled at James. “So, you delivered the girl to her school without trouble?”
James nodded. “Yeah. Weird place.”
“You’re a man who recently killed three blood warlocks, and you’re letting some junior wizard and witch school concern you?”
“There was a ferret that walked around on two feet and wore a top hat. A fucking top hat!” James griped. “When do rodents walk on two feet? That shit isn’t right.”
The Professor laughed. “What’s wrong with being fashionable?”
“It at least could have worn a... I don’t know, a fedora or a ball cap or something. Not a damn top hat.”
“I’ll tell that to the next fashionable ferret I run into.” The Professor gulped down some beer before continuing. “It is a school of magic. A man should expect a few oddities when they set foot on the grounds. Besides, given who Alison is, it’s probably the best place for her…and the safest.”
James let out a low grunt. “Not saying I disagree, but still feels kind of strange dropping off a kid at a place with top-hat-wearing ferrets and Kirin.”
“They have a Kirin there?” His eyebrows rose. “Impressive. As for the getting used to the girl being there, these things take time.” The Professor picked up his half-full glass and took a sip. “Before Miz Carson shows up, I wanted to make you aware of something.”
“What?” James asked.
“There were two undesirables loitering here the other day. I’m fairly certain they were looking for you. I couldn’t hear everything they said, but they said at least part of your name, and I find too coincidental to believe it has nothing to do with you?”
“Assassins?”
“For sure they weren’t nice men, but they didn’t have that air about them. They didn’t seem dangerous enough.”
James grinned. “Most assassins aren’t dangerous to me.”
The Professor shook his head. “I’m saying I don’t think they’d be dangerous to me. I assume they were just interested in keeping tabs on you.”
“I kind of assume everyone wants to keep tabs on me. I keep blowing shit up and killing people.”
That elicited a chuckle from the older man. “I’m only telling you so I can drink with a clear conscience tonight. What you do with that information is up to you. Ignore it, or go on a path of bloody vengeance—that’s on you.”
“Thanks, Professor. I’ll keep that in mind.”
A broad grin spread across the Professor’s face as he looked past James. “And here is Miz Carson now.”
James glanced behind him and spotted Shay maneuvering through the crowd. He kept waiting for her to lay out somebody who dared brush against her, but she made her way to the table and slid in next to the Professor without a single glare, punch, or kick.
“How is my favorite happy drunk doing?” the field archaeologist asked.
The Professor laughed. “Why am I your favorite?”
“Because you give me jobs that make me a lot of money.” She shrugged. “And you don’t make passes at me.”
James frowned, but the Professor chuckled.
“Young lady, that is not because I’m smart enough to avoid your wrath, but merely because if you accepted my advances, I’m too old to actually do anything useful about it. I’d be dead from strenuous activity by morning.” He patted the slight bulge around his middle. “It’d be a glorious way to die, for sure.”
Shay shrugged. “Either way works for me.”
They shared a laugh.
“What about the job?” James interjected. The last thing he wanted to do was sit there while Smite-Williams flirted with Shay.
“Due to Miz Carson’s efforts, we’re ready to move on this even faster than I had anticipated. I talked to her about it the other day, and she did some research and passed it my way. I in turn was able to ask some of my other contacts about it discreetly.”
“And?”
“I believe we have a location for the Green Dragon Crescent Blade, and I want you to support Miz Carson in its recovery.”
“Green Dragon Crescent Blade? Isn’t that the weapon of a character from Romance of the Three Kingdoms?”
The Professor and Shay exchanged glances, and James smirked.
Everyone underestimated him when it came to areas other than barbeque and ass-kicking, but with a photographic memory, even the occasional out-of-the-box read was useful.
“That book is a fictionalized account of a real war,” Smite-Williams began, “and Guan Yu was a real man, but yes, you’re correct. As I explained to your partner, I need the enchanted jade in the base more than the rest, but the whole blade would be fine.”
James frowned. “I don’t really feel like going to China. I don’t have any contacts there, and I don’t speak the language. They aren’t all that fond of bounty hunters, either, except in Hong Kong, and I’m guessing this thing isn’t buried in the middle of Hong Kong.”
The Professor waved a hand dismissively. “Fortunately for you it’s in Mexico—Baja California Sur. Much closer than even your last little errand for me.”
“Some ancient Chinese weapon is in Mexico?”
“There’s a story that goes with that,” Shay began.
“Don’t really care, to be honest.” The bounty hunter shrugged. “Okay, whatever. It’s magic shit, so it doesn’t have to make sense. But why am I involved, then? I get that I’m gonna get the item I want, but why do you even need me?”
The Professor nodded at Shay. “I’d prefer that she have at least some backup. Just in case.”
“Yeah, the place is not exactly peaceful, drug war and all,” Shay explained. “Plenty of bounties down there too if you want to earn a little bonus cash, though you’d need to be careful not to piss off the cartel controlling the territory where I’ll find the Green Dragon Crescent Blade. I have some contacts down there, and I’d like to be able to use them.”
James decided not to press Shay on why she had contacts among a cartel-controlled state. Given her previous vocational specialty of death dealing, it wasn’t surprising.
“As long as I get one level-four or -five it’ll be worth my time, even before the Professor’s payment.”
The Professor chuckled. “Tons of bounties down there, lad. Chaos reigns. You can either get money locally or bring your quarry back to Los Angeles for a greater payout, if you can arrange it.”
James turned to Shay. “You don’t think these cartel guys will mind you running around stealing treasure from under their noses?”
Shay shook her head. “The trick is to lie to them and just pretend I’m there for boring, normal archaeologist stuff, plus pay them a few bribes. We’ll be flying into Cabo San Lucas. They can’t handle supersonic flights at their airport, but this won’t be a repeat of our Peru odyssey. It’s only about two and half hours down there even by normal plane.”
“The less time on planes, the better. Already flew too many times this week.”
The Professor clapped his hands together. “Wonderful. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to drinking.”
James gestured to the glasses. “Aren’t you already drinking?”
“No, this is drinking to prepare myself to drink. Care to join me in the real thing?”
“I’m looking into some other shit tonight,” James told him, “so I can’t get drunk.”
“Don’t work yourself too hard, Brownstone.” Shay winked. “I don’t want you to be too tired tomorrow to have...fun with me.”
The bounty hunter rose, his face set in stone. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Shay rolled her eyes. “Man, are you boring!”
He looked at her, confused. “Boring is simple, and simple is good.”
She stood. “I have a few things to handle myself. Sorry, Professor.”
The older man smiled. “It’s all right. Some other time.”
Shay turned back toward James. “See you in the morning at LAX, Brownstone. I’ll text you the flight information.” She headed toward the door.
James also started making his way to the exit, the crowd parting in front of him, then stopped. If the job took a while, it’d be easy enough to swing through Las Vegas on his way back when he went to the parents’ weekend. That meant on his way to see Alison he’d have a chance to hit up Jessie Rae’s.
In the rush to get the girl to the School of Necessary Magic, he’d not even thought about trying to visit Vegas. He could almost taste the God Sauce already. It’d been far too long. No place in LA could hope to match Jessie Rae’s.
James stepped into darkness outside, dreaming of the best barbecue on the planet. His phone beeped, pulling him out of the delicious fantasy.
“Damn it.”
It was a text from an unknown number. He really hoped someone hadn’t sent it to threaten him.
Brownstone, your boy is holding court at my bar.
The bounty hunter smirked. All that preening, and Tyler had cave
d. He couldn’t resist a little poke.
Thought you said you couldn’t tell me if he showed up.
The asshole caused trouble in my place. Respect is a two-way street, and he’s disrespected me far more than you have.
James cracked his knuckles. “Looks like I’m gonna have a fun time before Mexico.”
9
Shay pulled her Fiat Spider into her garage. Her head slumped against the steering wheel, and she let out a long sigh.
“I shouldn’t care so much,” she muttered to herself. “I am pathetic.”
She’d told herself that exact thing countless times the last few weeks, but it didn’t help. One very important fact kept annoying her, and each time she saw Brownstone her irritation grew.
The man hadn’t hit on her yet.
Hadn’t even hinted at something approaching a pass. At this point she would have taken a leer. Even Smite-Williams wasn’t immune to her charms, and he was old enough to be her father.
Shay had initially thought Brownstone was just clueless about women so she had started flirting with him more, but he still didn’t seem interested.
She bounced back and forth on whether she thought he was gay. Brownstone’s protests did little to convince her he wasn’t. That had to be the only explanation for why he wasn’t into her.
Maybe he was gay, but didn’t know it. He was so far in the closet that he didn’t know he was in the closet. What was that called? Being in the deep closet?
Shay was the complete package. Nice dark hair, and toned athletic body. Witty with a sharp tongue. Damn sexy femme fatale. She’d be the first one to tell you.
All men wanted her. At least all straight men did, but Brownstone didn’t. Hadn’t even hinted at wanting her.
She shouldn’t care. Brownstone should remain nothing more than a professional partner, but the idea that he didn’t even want to take a quick roll in the sack with her hurt more than she expected.
“Are you just fucking with me, Brownstone?” Shay muttered. “Is this some sort of mind game?”
He didn’t really seem like the type, but she couldn’t be sure. Brownstone had a lot of secrets, and the man didn’t like to say much unless it was to blather on about barbecue or taunt bounties.
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