James eyed the empty potion bottle. “Guess the tweaked recipe was a good thing after all.”
The amulet continued murmuring loudly in his mind.
Kill.
James blinked. The word might be alien in his mind, but the translation rang perfectly in his thoughts.
“I’d love to kill the asshole, but he’s a sniper and I’ve got no eyes on him. Unless you have some brilliant ideas, shut the fuck up. I’m guessing the gun mage can make his gun super-quiet, so I don’t have a prayer of figuring out where he’s shooting from. I don’t know how much you can understand me now, but if you got any other tricks, it’s time to fucking show them.”
The amulet fell silent for a few seconds. Bullets pinged and sparked against the outcropping. The sniper hadn’t given up. If James stood, he’d be picked off in a second.
Increase.
Pain shot through James’ eyes, and he groaned and slumped over. There was fire shooting through his eyeballs.
“What…the...fuck?”
The pain abated, and the amulet shouted in his mind.
Kill.
James blinked. Faint green lines arced away from the rock toward a dune in the distance.
“What the…”
Kill.
James nodded slowly. “Showing me where he is? Yeah, I can do that then.” He took a few deep breaths and turned his head, taking note of the lines leading to the dune. A decent distance, but if he moved hard and fast, he shouldn’t take too many hits.
He pulled out his .45 and squeezed off several shots in the opposite direction. After emptying his clip, he reloaded and grabbed two frag grenades.
Shit. Wish I’d packed some smoke grenades.
“Okay, hopefully, our guy thinks I’m gonna go the wrong way. Time to fucking move.” James tossed grenades to either side.
The bounty hunter burst into a sprint when the grenades exploded, shifting direction every few yards as he closed on the target dune. Bullets tore up the ground but didn’t clip the speeding bounty hunter.
The green lines faded from his vision. He wasn’t sure if it reflected a limitation of the amulet, or if it was just trying not to distract him.
James threw another grenade toward the back of the dune, and someone yelled from behind it. He took the opportunity to stop dodging and barrel straight toward the dune.
A dark form crested the hill, a huge rifle with glowing runes covering the barrel in hand. Blood trailed down the side of his face.
James didn’t hesitate. He put three bullets into the sniper’s chest and the man fell and rolled down the dune, leaving a trail of blood.
“One down.”
23
James cracked his knuckles. He had a smile on his face, and tension drifted away from his body. He’d half-worried about the ambush, but he didn’t have to read a lot of Sun Tzu to understand that if an ambush failed, it put the enemy force on the defensive.
Fuckers got overconfident. Thought they could win, but they didn’t know about my potions or my defenses.
He snorted. The more James considered things, the more insulted he was. Lars’d thought he had the upper hand but had badly underestimated the bounty hunter.
Lars using a gun-mage sniper to win didn’t impress James. Hell, the gun-mage assassin the Harriken had sent after him had been far more dangerous.
Wait, is that the point? Is the fucker just testing me?
James grunted. Overconfidence could get him killed, even with potions and his amulet.
Kill, the amulet whispered.
“Huh. Better than dying.” James shook his head. “What’s wrong, Lars?” he shouted. “That was your big ambush? Some fucking sniper behind a dune?” He gestured toward the dead man. “It stung a little, but otherwise big fucking deal. I’ve had tougher times taking down level threes than I had dealing with that asshole. If you want to kill me, you better come at me with everything you got. Otherwise, only one of us is leaving this place still moving.”
Lars and Patrick stepped out from behind a dune. The level-five’s skin was already gray and hard, like he’d been covered with a thin layer of rock. The wizard’s bone wand dangled from his fingers, the feathers at the end blowing lightly in the warm summer breeze.
The bounty shrugged. “You know what they say, fucker. You never know until you try.”
James snorted. “Did you honestly think that would work? You think no one’s ever tried to shoot me before?”
“I think that Victor’s killed a lot of fuckers before you.” Lars smirked. “But you got me all wrong, Brownstone. Some of this is about seeing if this shit is a waste of my time. Some of this is just whittling you down, just to be sure.”
Patrick stepped forward.
Lars shook his head. “Not yet.”
“But we could finish his ass.”
The other man’s mouth contorted into a sneer. “Don’t fucking take my entertainment from me, Patrick. This isn’t just about killing Brownstone. I didn’t drive three hours for a five-minute fucking fight, okay? I want my money’s worth, fucker.”
The wizard frowned and stepped back. “Okay, okay. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”
James looked at the two. “What are you playing at, Lars?”
“More fun. This shit is entertaining.” The gray-skinned man glanced toward another dune.
Two more large men stepped out, identical twins who dwarfed James. The bounty hunter grunted. He recognized them as level-four bounties.
“The Winter brothers? I thought they were still hiding out in Mexico.”
The twins smiled.
“We flew up when we heard about this shit,” one explained.
The other nodded. “How could we pass up the chance to help beat down the famous James Brownstone?”
Lars laughed. “Yeah. You see, when your boy Tyler called me and started asking about fighting, it got me to thinking. I was thinking that I should kick your ass, but then I thought that what I really wanted was for you to be fucking humiliated before I took you down.” He shook his head and shrugged. “So I reached out to a bunch of people, and we all agreed we’d take shots at you.” He held up a finger. “But, you know, honor among thieves and fucking shit like that. So Victor wanted to do his thing, and the Winter brothers wanted to do their thing, too. I don’t give a fuck as long as I get my money and time’s worth.”
James grunted. “What, so this is some sort of multi-stage shit?”
“Yeah, something like that, fucker.” Lars pointed to Victor’s body. “Victor was Round One. The Winters are Round Two. Me and my boy Patrick are Round Three.”
“Sounds like you’re afraid to just come after me.”
Lars shook his head. “Nah, fucker. You of all people know how much people will pay for the great James Brownstone to die. Maybe assholes are too afraid to be open about it, but if you know where to look, you’ll get a reward.” He grinned. “I’m fine if you’re dead, but it’s even better if I can get money out of it. Even if I don’t get the reward, I have a shitload of money bet with that bitch Tyler on your ass dying.”
James snorted. “Too bad you won’t live to collect on that bet.”
“Whatever.” Lars nodded to the twins and gestured toward James. “Fucking kill him already, or die. I don’t give a shit which. Getting boring now.”
The Winters brothers advanced, wearing identical frowns and smacking their fists into their palms.
James whipped out his .45 and fired a single round into each brother. They stumbled, but the wounds sealed a second later.
Yeah. I guess level fours wouldn’t go down that easily. Maybe I should start collecting a few magic knives or shit like Shay, or borrow her Masamune sword or something.
The bounty hunter grunted. From what he’d read, the twins’ mother had been a witch who’d used some sort of protection spell on them in the womb, even before the truth of magic became known. Regeneration and enhanced strength made for a hell of a combination.
James holstered his
.45. “Nice trick.” He’d just need to think of a good way to slow their regeneration while he finished both men off.
“Scared yet, Brownstone?” one of the twins asked.
“Have any last words?” the other wondered.
The bounty hunter took a few steps forward. “You seriously think you’re gonna intimidate me with that sort of shit? Level fours I can beat without even bringing my A-game, so I’ll give you this chance to turn around and fuck off before I beat you down.” He pointed to Lars. “His ass is going down, though.”
The twins glared at James, and a few seconds later they yelled in unison and rushed him.
Nobody can say I didn’t give these fuckers a chance to get away.
James sprinted forward to meet their charge. He threw his shoulder into the first twin, sending him stumbling back with a grunt.
The other brother grabbed James’ arm and yanked him back. He slammed his fist into James’ face several times, the blows barely stinging thanks to the amulet. The twin picked up the bounty hunter and brought him hard down on his knee in an attempt to break his back.
James bounced off and landed on the ground. He rolled and hopped to his feet, rubbing his back. A little ache and probably a bruise, but nothing worse.
The bounty hunter shook his head. The amulet murmured away, a certain smugness radiating from its words. He still couldn’t decode much other than ‘kill.’
Whatever your name is, if you have one, thanks. Without you, that first asshole probably would have taken me down.
The twins jogged back a few yards and stood together, frowns on their faces.
The bounty hunter shot them a grin. “What’s the matter, not used to people not snapping in half when you try hard? Sorry, assholes. Last time I was here, it took some pretty powerful magic to hurt me. I don’t think you assholes have that. Just because you’re tough doesn’t mean you’re gonna win against me.”
“Fuck you, Brownstone,” the men growled in unison.
James shook his head. “Is that shit supposed to be intimidating? It’s funny, more than anything. Gonna get some rubber balls to bounce at the same time? Maybe wear the same pretty bow in your hair?” He raised his hand and gestured for them to come at him. “Let’s finish this shit. I still have to kick Lars’ and the wizard’s asses.”
The brothers took a few steps to either side, their eyes narrowed. James took the opportunity to hurl two sonic grenades. The whine filled the air and both men collapsed, clutching their ears. Apparently, unlike with his amulet, their sturdiness didn’t protect them from that kind of attack.
Didn’t see that coming, did you, assholes?
James rushed over to the first brother. He yanked him up and slammed his fist into his face several times. His head snapped back, and blood spurted out, but the wounds healed. After the tenth hit, the man moaned and his eyes fluttered closed.
Guess regenerating doesn’t save you from being knocked out.
The bounty hunter tossed the man to the ground and planted his booted foot on the stomach of the other brother. He dropped knee-first, to the man’s chest, and alternated pummeling him with both fists until blood covered the bounty hunter’s shirt and harness.
James stood up. The second Winter brother was breathing but unconscious. His battered face had already begun knitting itself back together.
The bounty hunter shook out his hands. “I should use those sonic things more often. My girlfriend uses them a lot, but I’ve avoided them. I guess I just like to fucking waste people more directly or go old-school with a flashbang.” He shrugged at Lars. “All this high-tech shit can fail. I like to keep it simple.”
Lars snorted. “Fuck off, Brownstone. I’m not impressed.” He nodded to Patrick. “Fucking finish them off while they’re out. Pussies.”
“What?”
The level five narrowed his eyes at Patrick. “Or you can deal with me.”
The redheaded wizard lifted his wand, and a massive fireball grew in front of it over several seconds. James leapt to the side as the blast crashed into the downed men.
The blast wave knocked him to the ground, and after a few seconds the stench of burnt flesh filled the air. Only the charred skeletons remained of the men.
Fuck. Can’t regenerate if you don’t have a body.
James stood and stared at Lars. “Don’t you think some of your fellow criminals might have something to say about that?”
A sick grin appeared on Lars’ face. “Nah. Not like we’re in a union, fucker. I was hoping you’d kill them. It’s entertaining, and if they aren’t strong enough to take you out, who cares?” He cracked his knuckles. “But it’s time for Round Three. I’m going to enjoy killing you, Brownstone. Going to enjoy seeing the panic in your eyes as I’m fucking you up and you understand, in those last few seconds, that you’re going to die.”
The bounty hunter reached for a sonic grenade, but he was out.
Whatever. I’ll beat their asses down the old-fashioned way, then.
The amulet’s quiet whispers became strident and understandable.
Kill.
James snorted. Yeah, no argument there.
The crowd in the Black Sun winced as the fireball exploded and incinerated the Winter brothers. Tyler had been alternating camera feeds on the big screen on his wall.
The information broker shook his head and clucked his tongue. Maria was right. This was the problem with these high-level assholes. They didn’t have any respect for boundaries. Killing a guy because he came at you was one thing, but murdering him after he helped you, even if for his own reasons, was grade-A bullshit.
I hope you tear this fucker’s head off, Brownstone, and not just for the money.
Oh, yeah, the money. Almost forgot what this was about.
Tyler rushed over to the odds board and slapped it with the back of his hand. He had no idea who’d come up with the idea of adding real time odds and in-fight betting, but it was a fucking gold mine.
“There you have it, folks,” he yelled. “The odds have changed in Brownstone’s favor with the defeat of the Winters brothers and Victor. They keep wounding him, but they aren’t stopping him. The Bounty Hunter One-Man Army. The Scourge of Harriken. The Granite Ghost.”
“That’s bullshit,” a man shouted. “He didn’t kill those guys, Patrick did. That better not pay out anything.”
Tyler tapped a box on the board. “Fair enough. All these deaths categories clearly state that Brownstone has to be the one killing people or be killed, so you’re right, Patrick blowing people up doesn’t count.”
“That’s right.” The man crossed his arms and beamed a smug smile at the information broker.
“But Brownstone knocked them out.” Tyler erased a few of the boxes and started filling in new numbers. “Which means he’s not taking on as many people at once. The early Brownstone adopters are the ones who will really profit from this.”
The angry biker from before reached into his wallet to yank out even more bills. “Fuck that. I’m gonna double-down on Lars. Just because Brownstone beat some small-fry pussies don’t mean shit. Lars is a level five, and Brownstone won’t be able to win against him.” He pointed at Tyler but spoke to the crowd. “Don’t you get it? This fucker is just trying to get us to cover his dumb bets for Brownstone. He’s on Team Brownstone, and has been for a while.”
Tyler rushed up to the man and got right in his face. “Don’t you fucking dare. I’m a businessman. All I want to do is make money. I’ll take any opportunity that presents itself, whether it involves Brownstone or anyone else. As long as that bounty hunter can make me money I’ll bet on him or send bounties at him, but don’t you ever say I’m fucking Team Brownstone. I fucking hate his ass.”
I do, don’t I?
The biker grunted and shoved Tyler away. “Whatever. I’ll just take your money and make you cry that way, bitch.”
The bar owner stomped back toward the table in front of the odds board. Kathy sat there, checking through the online bets o
n a laptop they’d brought from the office.
Tyler slid into a chair. “I’m not on Team Brownstone,” he muttered.
This isn’t about anything but money. I only warned him because it’s a reputation thing. It’s not like I give a shit if he dies. People have to know that. If I liked Brownstone, I wouldn’t have helped send a level-five psycho at him.
Kathy snickered. “There are worse teams to be on. You’re practically business partners with the guy, and you’ve been making eyes at a cop. Just something to think about.”
Tyler’s head shot in her direction. “What are you getting at?”
“Just saying, maybe you’re less of a criminal mastermind than you think if you’re buddying up to a bounty hunter and a cop.” She shrugged. “Nothing to be ashamed of. Brownstone and Hall are better people to hang out with than psychos like Lars Hansen.”
“Maria’s the reason this place is neutral ground. What do you want me to do, tell her to piss off? I’m making a lot of money and have a lot more opportunities because it’s neutral ground. And I don’t leave money on the table.”
Kathy rolled her eyes. “Keep telling yourself that, Tyler. Whatever. I’m just the employee. Ignore me, boss man.”
This is about money on the table. Nothing more. Nothing less.
“I think they are about to go at it,” a gang member in the corner shouted.
Tyler snapped his attention back to the screen. Patrick and Lars had spread out. The wizard had his wand up, and the level five was grinning at Brownstone like a hungry cat in front of a cornered mouse.
The information broker hopped up. “Get in your bets. It could last an hour, or it could be over in seconds. You don’t want to wait until it’s too late. You don’t want to lay awake tonight asking yourself, ‘Could have I made a big score off James Brownstone?’”
Several men grabbed their phones to make electronic transfers. Others grabbed their wallets.
Tyler smirked.
Team Brownstone. I’m not on fucking Team Brownstone. I’m on Team Greenback.
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Hail To The King: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure (The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Book 8) Page 18
