Maria blinked. “Seriously?”
Shay leaned back and nodded. “Whose body do you think they found in my old place?”
“Huh. That’s definitely a colorful way to change careers.” Maria sighed. “You think Brownstone would consider coming? I’d like him there for a few different reasons. He’s a big part of why I’m doing this, after all.”
“I’ll ask him, but he’ll probably be uncomfortable unless there is barbeque to distract him.”
Maria laughed. “I’ll make sure Weber has barbeque there.”
Maria’s head swam as she leaned against the back of her chair. She’d lost track of how many beers she’d drunk. A quick look around the room confirmed that everyone else in the Black Sun that evening was either swaying or red-faced, except for Tyler, Kathy, and Brownstone. Tyler had insisted that if there was going to be a drunken party at his place he needed to be sober.
“A room full of drunken cops,” he had whined. “If they get rowdy, who am I going to call? The fire department?”
Brownstone didn’t seem much affected even though he’d drunk plenty of beer. Maria wasn’t surprised.
Tyler had cleared out the scum for the evening, leaving only cops, bounty hunters, and their families. Besides Weber and the rest of the available off-duty AET, there were dozens of other police officers, including Sergeant Mack, and their spouses. A handful of Brownstone Agency men were there. The rest were out on jobs, but Trey and a half-dozen others had shown up.
Trey, Sergeant Mack, and Brownstone huddled together at a table, eating ribs and brisket and speaking quietly but with a lot of gestures at their barbeque. When Maria had wandered by their table, they had been in deep discussion over some barbeque minutiae related to their team.
A cop, a bounty hunter, and a former criminal turned bounty hunter. Whatever else I can say about Brownstone, the man brings people together through sheer force of will. That’s got to be the definition of a great leader.
Loud rock music blasted over the speakers. A few people were dancing, but most people were sitting or standing, talking and sharing stories. Even without the music, the din created by so many people talking made it hard to hear past one’s own table.
Tyler walked over to Maria’s table and sat down. Kathy had taken point on handling most of the drinks for the night but needed help now and again, especially when some table decided it was time for shots.
“This is it,” Tyler declared. “You can’t go back now.”
“Wasn’t planning to go back.” Maria grinned. “Weber told me that you only gave him a ten percent discount. Stingy.”
Tyler shrugged. “If you were talking like a half a dozen people, sure, I could take the hit, but you’ve got half a station in here, and freaking Brownstone keeps drinking like it’s impossible for him to even get drunk.” He frowned. “Shit, maybe it is.”
Maria laughed. “I’m just messing with you.”
Weber staggered over with a beer in hand and sat in an open seat. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, Maria. Without you yelling at me about coffee in the morning, I think I’ve lost my purpose in life,” he slurred. He glanced at Tyler. “Does she yell at you about coffee, man?”
Tyler shook his head. “Not about coffee. Everything else, though…”
Both men laughed.
Maria rolled her eyes and turned as she sensed someone behind her. Shay.
The other woman smirked at Tyler. “Yeah, Mr. Pay Per View should be careful he’s saying.” A hint of menace underlay her words.
Tyler muttered something under under his breath as Shay took a seat.
She smiled. “Nice party, even if it feels weird to be around so many cops in a small room.”
Tyler chuckled at Shay. “Now that’s a sentiment I can relate to.”
Weber shook his head wildly. “It’s not going to be the same.” He set his beer down. “Without Maria busting our balls, the AET is going to get soft.”
Maria snorted. “You’ll be fine. You all know what to do. You don’t need me.”
Weber sniffled a little.
She groaned. “Come on, don’t do this.”
The sergeant stood and shuffled off, his arm to his face.
Maria sighed and stood. She picked up her glass and a fork and banged it against the side until everyone stopped talking and looked her way. Kathy killed the music with a few quick commands into her phone.
“I’ve chatted with a lot of you individually already,” Maria announced, “but I figured I should say something. I asked Weber not to have anyone give any speeches because I wanted to give one, and you all know I don’t like people outshining me.”
Everyone laughed. Weber laughed harder than anyone else.
Maria smiled. “I’ve been a cop for twenty years. Beat cop the first few years, then Vice, then SWAT, and then AET. I’ve worked for the LAPD that entire time.” She took a deep breath. “The whole world changed on me and most of us all of a sudden right when I was starting out. Being a cop went from just dealing with criminals to worrying about magic.” She nodded at Weber and a few of the other AET officers present. “AET wasn’t even a thing at first. I mean, who would have even thought we needed to worry about a special division of cops to deal with magical threats?” She snorted. “Yeah, I know we call them enhanced threats, but we all know what we’re talking about. We are the anti-hocus-pocus squad. I am…I was the leader of the people who would have put the Wicked Witch of the West in her place if she showed up in LA looking for shoes and Dorothy. I might have never railgunned a flying monkey, but I came damned close.”
The gathered crowd laughed, and the AET officers laughed loudest.
Maria blinked her eyes a few times, trying to keep any tears at bay. “Every day we worked together to keep people safe whether from the common criminals or the outrageous high-level bastards.” She looked down for a moment in silence. “And we all know that every day we get up in the morning and put on that uniform not knowing if we’ll make it home to those we care about.” She glanced at Tyler before returning her attention to the crowd. “But we all make that choice because we know that the police represent the thin blue line that keeps this city safe.”
The cops shouted their agreement.
She lost the war against her feelings, and a few tears leaked out. “Even though I’m retiring, every day from now on when I get up, I’ll think about you all first. Think about the sacrifices you’re continuing to make.” She wiped some tears from her face. “And how you are the best men and women I’ve ever known. I’ve never met finer people than my brothers and sisters in the LAPD. God bless you, everyone, and let’s keep having a good time the rest of tonight.”
The room exploded in applause, and Maria slumped into her chair. At least if she were crying there, it’d be not nearly so obvious.
Tyler was right. This is it. I’m not a cop anymore.
Weber wandered back over to the table as the applause died down. He waited for a good minute, as did Tyler and Shay, as Maria got her tears under control.
Losing all my ball-busting cred here. Everyone’s going to know I actually have a heart.
She blew out a breath. “This is harder than I’d thought it would be.”
“What are you going to do now, Maria?” Weber asked.
She let out a quiet chuckle. “Really wish people would stop asking me that. For tonight, I’m just going to do the whole eat, drink, and be merry thing.”
He shrugged. “You don’t seem really merry right now.”
Maria gave him a death glare and he winced, even as drunk as he was. Tyler eyed her for a moment with a slight smirk on his face.
You’ve done a good job of keeping it to yourself, Tyler. Don’t worry. You won’t have to keep the secret about my plans much longer.
Her glare shifted into a smile. “I’m only not merry because I’m not drunk enough yet.” She winked at Tyler. “Barkeep, I need more of your best ale!”
Tyler stood and shook his head. “Drunk cops a
re the worst. Even when they are hot.”
Chapter Fourteen
He Who Hunts floated through LA hundreds of feet in the air, considering his options. Between the government raids and Brownstone’s tunnel raid, his main forces had been depleted. He’d gathered the raw materials to create more servants, but the energy required was becoming increasingly taxing.
The cars and people flowed beneath him, all wasting their short, pointless lives. One good massive explosion would have done much to make the humans of LA understand the true nature of existence, but his long-term plans would have to come before short-term satisfaction.
Giving up on Brownstone wasn’t an option, but He Who Hunts also needed to generate a scenario that would ensure the man felt the rage and anguish necessary to draw upon his true power. Without that, the red crystal would be useless, and all the resources and energy He Who Hunts had expended would be wasted in a scheme as pointless as his Council brethren’s.
It was clear now that he would have to face Brownstone directly, but if the bounty hunter came with another army, the fight might be over before the crystal could corrupt the man, or even before the opportunity arose to engage its magic.
The window of opportunity had narrowed and the time for caution had passed. His next strike would need to be bold and force Brownstone into a situation where he couldn’t win with his normal tactics. Perhaps a situation where frustration would drive him to the extremes of his mind and soul.
He Who Hunts stared down at the city as he continued floating along. A line of cars led to a massive parking lot. Colorful buildings, roller coasters, and thick crowds littered the ground beneath him: Happy Magic Land Amusement Park, according to the sign out front.
It was the perfect stage for corruption.
It was time to gather his remaining forces.
We’re ready to show you what’s up, big man, Trey thought to himself as he killed his F-350’s engine. He didn’t give a shit if it was a tight fit with so many men. He loved that truck.
“Let’s do this shit.” He threw open his door.
Trey, Deshawn, Max, Carl, Lachlan, and Daryl burst out of the F-350. A row of houses lined the street, yards between each. Their target location was about fifty feet away, an unassuming light blue home.
Lachlan frowned and looked down at his stun rifle. “I can’t believe this shit. We’re going against a level four without the big man for the first time, and we’ve got to use non-lethals? That’s some bullshit right there, you know what I’m saying?”
Trey shrugged. “The bounty notice was clear. They want this guy alive, probably to testify against some of the crime families he used to work for. We ain’t even gonna score half the money if we waste his ass, so we bring him alive, or this is just gonna be a waste of our fucking time.”
Lachlan snickered. “Yeah, this ain’t gonna be fun.”
The men grumbled and checked the power cells on their stun rifles. They all had regular pistols if they needed them. Even if they were trying to take the man alive, no one was prepared to sacrifice a team member for money.
Despite the danger of their foe, they were back in their signature suits, although the anti-magic deflectors clashed with the style and the bulletproof vests gave them a bulkier silhouette.
I should ask Zoe if there’s a slicker-looking deflector out there.
The target, Alphonse “Quickstep” Cametti, had been just another hitman out East until on one lucky job he stumbled onto an artifact that gave him a useful power for any man, let alone a hitman: teleportation.
Fortunately for Trey and the boys, Quickstep needed line of sight for his power to work, and it was short-ranged. It wouldn’t be a matter of the man just blinking away the minute he felt threatened.
As they closed on the door, Trey’s heart rate kicked up, and a grin slipped onto his face. A year ago, he’d just been some punk running on the streets. Now he was taking on teleporting hitmen.
He cleared his throat. “We’ve been doing this shit for a while now, and we’ve been training hard at Fort Shorty to deal with magic shit. We took on the Council several times, and their weird-ass monsters and motherfucking wizards had a lot more powers than Quickstep. We’ll stun his ass and bring him in. This shit’s gonna be easier than our last job, I bet you.”
Lachlan furrowed his brow. “How we gonna keep him from teleporting away once we stun him? It’ll wear off, and he’ll just run like a little bitch, won’t he?”
Trey pulled out his phone and tapped at it until an image of a silver pendant formed by seven interconnecting rings was on the screen. “He ain’t no Oriceran. We take this necklace off, and he can’t do shit. He’s just another bitch-ass hitman, then. With cuffs on, he ain’t doing shit.”
Manuel rubbed his hands together. “What about that necklace? We get to keep it?”
“Hell, no. We have to turn that shit over to the 5-0 along with Quickstep.” Trey shrugged. “Don’t get greedy, motherfuckers. Now, let’s do this like we planned. Lachlan and Daryl, you with me in the front. Everyone else, wait in the back. Spread out in case that bitch teleports. Remember, though, we need his bitch ass alive.”
He looked up at the house. Thick curtains covered all the windows.
Trey jogged toward the front door. “Let’s prove to the big man we’ve got what it takes to bring in the big bounties.”
Lachlan and Daryl rushed after Trey as the other bounty hunters rounded the corner and headed toward the back.
Trey knocked on the door.
Lachlan blinked. “What the fuck? You’re knocking?”
Trey shrugged. “Hey, you never know. We’ve got a badass rep, especially lately with that subway shit and the Council base. Maybe he’ll do the smart thing and give the fuck up. Besides, it ain’t like he’s always wearing that necklace, just when he’s on jobs. Why do you think I decided to go after him as our first solo level four?”
They all raised their stun rifles as the door rattled.
The door opened to reveal a muscular man with a shaved head in jeans and a wifebeater. The teleportation necklace hung around his neck. A disinterested expression rested on Quickstep’s face despite three men aiming stun rifles at him from less than a yard away.
Aww, damn. Motherfucker.
Quickstep smirked. “You ain’t no cops. Who the fuck are you supposed to be?”
“I’m Trey Garfield with the Brownstone Agency. We’re here to take you in, Quickstep, for your level-four bounty. I’m not gonna sit here and list all the people you’ve killed. We’d fucking be here all day.” Trey snorted.
The criminal chuckled. “You are some dumb shits. You think just because you have his name that you’re as tough as him? Please, fuckers.”
Trey glared at him. “Nah, bitch. I think we’re plenty tough enough by ourselves. Now, you gonna be a good boy, or are you gonna make this shit hard on yourself?”
Quickstep vanished, and a loud pop from behind sent Trey and the others spinning that way.
The bounty disappeared again as soon as they faced him. Another pop had them turning back toward the front door, but this time the man was already sprinting up the stairs past the living room.
Trey fired at the man, but the criminal winked out of existence and the stun bolt slammed into the wall, discharging harmlessly.
Lachlan scoffed. “Told you this shit wasn’t gonna be fun. ‘It’s all gonna be easy and shit.’ Give me a fucking break.”
Trey pointed toward the street. “You two go over there and spread out. Don’t want him teleporting out of the fucking house. I’ll corner his ass inside.” He rushed inside and up the stairs.
He crested the stairs and fired a few stun bolts down the hallway, hoping for a lucky hit. All he did was waste more energy as he nailed another wall.
“Where you at, Quickstep?” Trey shouted. “You ain’t getting away. We’ve got the place covered from all angles, and we heard about how you’re set up nice here. Maybe if you come in, you can give up those fuckers you used to w
ork for. They’ll send you to Witness Protection down in Scottsdale, Arizona or some shit. It ain’t so bad.”
He held his breath, listening for any sound that might reveal the bounty.
Trey crept down the hallway toward an open bedroom door. The whole house was dark, despite it being the middle of the day, which meant Quickstep hadn’t opened any of his blinds or curtains.
What? Worried some other motherfucker’s gonna teleport in and surprise you, bitch?
The floorboards squeaked as Trey continued toward the bedroom. With Quickstep’s line-of-sight limitation, the criminal would have to open a door to get the drop on the bounty hunter. That fueled Trey’s confidence as he moved toward the bedroom. This job would be over soon.
His heart sped up as he noticed a mirror at the other end of the bedroom, his reflection visible in it, and more importantly, the hallway behind him reflected in it.
“Motherfucker.”
Trey pivoted a half-second before he heard the loud pop. Quickstep appeared, gun in hand and a vicious grin on his face. The criminal pulled the trigger, and Trey hissed as he fell backward, a wave of pain shooting through his chest and ribs. A bulletproof vest might save his life, but that didn’t mean he’d escape without pain or injury.
The bounty hunter pulled the trigger as he was falling, but Quickstep teleported away, the bolt passing through empty space and arcing against the wall as the criminal popped into existence beside Trey.
Quickstep kicked the stun rifle out of his hand and aimed his gun. Trey rolled to the side to avoid a bullet to the head and yanked the man’s legs out from under him. The criminal’s gun fell out of his hand and slid into the hallway.
With a pop, the criminal teleported a few feet in the air, facing the ground. Trey threw a punch, but the man teleported again.
Trey yanked a sonic grenade out of his pocket and threw it toward the doorway. No groans followed the whine of discharge. Instead, he heard a distant pop from the front.
Karma Is A Bitch: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure (The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Book 12) Page 11
