One Epic Ring: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure (The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Book 14) Read online

  One Epic Ring

  The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone™ Book Fourteen

  Michael Anderle

  One Epic Ring (this book) is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.

  Copyright © 2018 Michael Anderle

  Cover by Andrew Dobell, www.creativeedgestudios.co.uk

  Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing

  A Michael Anderle Production

  LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  LMBPN Publishing

  PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy

  Las Vegas, NV 89109

  First US edition, December 2018

  The Oriceran Universe (and what happens within / characters / situations / worlds) are Copyright (c) 2017-18 by Martha Carr and LMBPN Publishing.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Author Notes - Michael Anderle

  Other Revelation of Oriceran Universe Books

  Books by Michael Anderle

  Connect with Michael Anderle

  The One Epic Ring Team

  Special Thanks

  to Mike Ross

  for BBQ Consulting

  Jessie Rae’s BBQ - Las Vegas, NV

  Thanks to the JIT Readers

  Micky Cocker

  Misty Roa

  Angel LaVey

  John Ashmore

  Mary Morris

  Kelly O’Donnell

  Peter Manis

  Keith Verret

  Nicole Emens

  James Caplan

  Paul Westman

  If I’ve missed anyone, please let me know!

  Editor

  Lynne Stiegler

  To Family, Friends and

  Those Who Love

  to Read.

  May We All Enjoy Grace

  to Live the Life We Are

  Called.

  Chapter One

  This shit is even better the third time.

  James swallowed his last bite of pulled pork and bread, taking a moment to let the flavors of the sauce from his sandwich play across his tongue. Jessie Rae’s had never disappointed him in the past, and today’s lunch was no different.

  I need to be studying this; always paying attention to all the flavors and textures. If I ever want to surpass Jessie Rae’s, I’m gonna have to understand Mike’s cooking. Sorry, Mike, but someday I’ll take you down.

  James wasn’t sure if that was even possible, but no point in picking an unworthy adversary to test his skills against.

  “I don’t know if I can finish mine,” Trey commented from across the table. “But damn, is that one of the best pork sandwiches I’ve ever had!” He leaned forward. “Don’t tell Nana, but this is way better than hers. She’d beat my ass for blasphemy and disrespect.”

  James nodded. “I won’t tell her. I need you alive to work bounties.”

  Maria smirked. “That is a lot of Brownstone to fit in your mouth. I don’t know if Tyler would approve.”

  James glanced at the two and grunted. “Even if it’s the Brownstone Sandwich, it’s technically a Brownstone Agency sandwich. I think it’s pretty damned good, myself. Worth waiting a few months for Mike to figure it out, not that I didn’t think he’d pull it off.”

  The owner of Jessie Rae’s had promised James and Trey a new sandwich after they’d returned his stolen memorabilia and awards but had quickly found himself conflicted about how to best express their bravery in sandwich form. What meat and cut best spoke to justice? What sauce best highlighted a man’s strength of will? What bread screamed “badass?”

  James didn’t mind the wait. That was the kind of drama he could handle. Even though he’d taken down a few level-four bounties in the last couple of months, things had been mostly quiet since Alison had returned to school after Christmas break.

  After the Wendigo adventure in Canada, James had decided to stay home for Christmas. He didn’t want some nanoform ruining Alison’s Christmas vacation by trying to take him out. She worried about him even more than he worried about her.

  Christmas vacation had been a fun time, not a violent one. No weird energy monsters attacking them. No one trying to blow up his house. No mystery Drow stepping through a portal and challenging him to single combat. Just a relaxing time at home, a family and their dog.

  That alien bitch is still out there, but at least she isn’t fucking with Jessie Rae’s. That makes her smarter than Demetrius. I hope those nanites were real damned expensive. Maybe she gave up after I beat her nanite shit down.

  He didn’t believe that, but hope never harmed a man, especially when his stomach was filled with delicious meat. He also liked the idea of building up an interplanetary reputation.

  How many aliens will I have to beat down before everyone in the fucking galaxy knows not to mess with me?

  Maria smiled. “It’s nice that Mike did this after you guys tracked down that thief, and it’s cool having an agency sandwich.” She frowned at hers. She’d given up on the mammoth edible monument to the glories of sauced pork. “But does it really take that long to figure out a barbeque sandwich? It’s barbeque, not brain surgery.”

  James grunted. “Yeah, brain surgery’s easier. Not like there are a bunch of different regional brain surgery styles.”

  Trey laughed. “North Carolina brain surgery, Kansas City brain surgery, Texas brain surgery.”

  James chuckled and shook his head. “It’ll be years before I’ll be able to attempt the kind of shit Mike is pulling off in this sandwich. You have to balance not just the meat and sauce, but also how they play off the bread. There are so many different things you have to take into account. It’s complicated as shit, but the good kind of complicated.”

  Trey nodded his agreement, his face solemn. “You should join PFW, Maria. Once you start cooking with us, you’ll understand. I thought I liked barbeque before, but once I was on the team, I started to love and understand barbeque. I know so much shit now that I didn’t know about before. I thought I was a barbeque man, but I was just a barbeque boy waiting to become a man.”

  “First of all,” Maria replied with a laugh, “I don’t want to be a boy or a man. Second, you make it sound like a cult or a bunch of junkies. I think I should stay well clear of it.”

  Trey shot her a grin. “Hey, it ain’t so bad. Barbeque is better than drugs. Might be cheaper to be an addict, though.”

 
They both laughed.

  James stared at the menu on the wall, wondering if he should go for another sandwich or some ribs, especially since he hadn’t been making it up to Vegas as much as he wanted lately. He scratched his chin as he considered the possibilities.

  Trey’s phone buzzed, and he pulled it out of his pocket. He stared down at it for a moment as he read the message. “Huh. Didn’t expect that. Don’t know whether to be annoyed or surprised.”

  James continued to stare at the menu, weighing his choices versus the annoyance he might inflict on Trey and Maria by making them stay since they’d all driven there in his truck.

  “What’s up?” Maria asked, far less entranced by barbeque.

  Trey looked her way. “Remember Marty Calabrese?”

  She eyed his phone. “Oh, did that cockroach finally scuttle out from under someone’s refrigerator? Anywhere close? Something about his smug face makes me want to bring him in that much more.”

  “He’s damn close. He’s in Vegas.” Trey grinned. “I mean, he’s all but begging us to find him and bring him in. Probably sitting in his house being all, ‘I think Trey and Maria are bitches. They can’t get me.’”

  Curiosity defeated barbeque, if only for a moment, and James looked at the other bounty hunters. “Who the fuck is Marty Calabrese?”

  “Makes sense you don’t know about him offhand.” Trey shrugged. “He’s a level three. Do you even check level threes anymore?”

  James shook his head. “That’s what I’ve got the agency for. I concentrate on the big fish that come through and let you guys handle everything else.” He shrugged. “Since Zoe gave you those gloves, there’s even less reason for me to get involved. I’m trying to take it easy. Shay suggested I try it out for a while.” He grunted.

  Trey laughed. “Beating down level fours is easy?”

  “Only taken down a few lately.” James shrugged. “I’d go after a level five, but none of those fuckers have come to LA lately.”

  “Sure, big man, sure. Anyway, that bitch Calabrese is a former Mafia enforcer.” Trey snorted. “He was supposed to be in Witness Protection in Wichita, but crime’s too fun for the motherfucker to give it up. He started a dust ring and killed a guy during a bad deal. Some people were saying back in December that he was coming to Vegas to settle some scores, so we’ve been looking around for the piece of shit but haven’t been able to find him.”

  “And?” James had almost settled on ordering another Brownstone Sandwich before his mind flipped back to ribs.

  “And my boy who sent me the message here says he’s got a line on Marty at this huge-ass rental house, but he also says our boy Marty’s hired a big new crew. He’s about to make some noise. Settle some scores.” Trey shrugged. “I thought we was coming just for the sandwich, and we don’t have another crew coming in until tomorrow since things have been light on the ground the last few days. Victoria’s out of town, too. Maybe we should wait. Taking Calabrese on when he’s got a whole crew with him might be annoying as fuck.”

  Maria frowned. “If your informant has a line on him, Calabrese might find out and run. The dirt bag’s done a good job of hiding so far. If we don’t make a move on him now, he might not be there tomorrow. He could end up in rural Idaho for months. You want to look for him there?”

  “Me and the country don’t agree,” Trey mumbled, fluffing his lapels. “This is city style. Too much dust and shit will ruin my fine threads.” He looked at James. “Then again, we don’t need a crew if we’ve got the big man. That’s if you want to come and play with us just for a level three and his buddies.”

  James shrugged. “I’ve got nothing better to do.” He nodded at his empty plate. “I’m done with my sandwich anyway.”

  “You sure you’re not gonna order another one, big man? That’s your third.” Trey chuckled. “Don’t want you to have to go out into the world starving to death. Sad, sad end for the Granite Ghost.”

  “I was actually thinking about ribs, but I can order those to go.” James wiped his hands with a napkin. “Let me do that, then we’ll go have a chat with Calabrese and his friends. This shit might be fun.”

  James parked his black F-350 across the street from the huge two-story house. A tall white fence surrounded the property, but the front gate stood open. Nothing about the well-maintained lawn gave any hint that a criminal gang might be living inside.

  If he isn’t in there, I don’t want to go shooting up the place and annoying the local cops for no good reason.

  “How do we want to do this?” Trey asked, nodding toward the brick walkway leading to the front porch. He slipped on his enchanted gloves and patted his chest to check his bulletproof vest. “Just have James kick in the door and start beating ass? Give them a chance to surrender?”

  Even if they hadn’t come fully equipped, James always kept some supplies in the back of his truck in case he and Shay needed to kick a little ass. Taking down a mobster and his guards didn’t warrant much more than guns, stun rods and bulletproof vests, especially given that James would go in with his amulet and Trey his gloves.

  Maria shook her head as she clipped a stun rod to her belt. “We need to make sure Calabrese doesn’t run. If he escapes, it doesn’t matter how many random idiots we take down. They might not have bounties on them, and he’s the damned mastermind anyway. He’s the one running the dust rings.”

  She narrowed her eyes. Maria had proven to be an asset to the agency, but sometimes James forgot she’d spent decades as a cop. Priorities were hard to reset.

  James grunted. “Maybe you two should take the back, and I’ll knock on the front door. If they’ve got any surprise shit, I can take it better. Just because it’s supposed to be a level three doesn’t mean we won’t find He Who Hunt’s cousin in there.”

  “Sounds like a good plan, big man.” Trey nodded. “Oh, forgot to tell you earlier—this shit ain’t dead or alive, at least not for Calabrese. Gonna need you to dial it down to badass.”

  James frowned. “Do we know about bounties on the other guys?”

  Trey shook his head and shrugged. “Don’t know who else he’s got in there, so I can’t say.”

  James reached into the open suitcase in the back seat and grabbed a few throwing knives. “Then the other assholes should stay out of the way if they don’t want to die.”

  “Probably, but you still need to control yourself,” Maria replied. She chuckled and opened the door. “Just remember, explosions are indiscriminate. We need Calabrese mostly breathing when we deliver him to the Vegas PD.”

  James nodded. “You showed me his picture. I know what he looks like and I won’t kill anyone who looks like him.” He shrugged. “You two make your way around back. I’ll hit the front in a minute.”

  Trey and Maria stepped out of the truck and ran down the side fence. Stealth wasn’t that important. Even if the pair were spotted, the men inside would soon have someone large, angry, and tattooed to draw their attention.

  Once the other bounty hunters had moved out of sight, James took a deep breath and reached under his shirt to remove the spacer separating his amulet from his body. He gritted his teeth as the amulet extended its tendrils into his body, burning pain accompanying their spread.

  Initiation, Whispy sent.

  Don’t really need you for this shit, but Alison whined at me again about being careful, James thought. So, congrats, time to go all pro level on these junior varsity assholes.

  Constant use improves tactical capability and adaptation potential. Engage and kill enemies. Achieve primary directive.

  These guys aren’t going to feed you today. Just some guns, maybe a knife or two.

  The amulet projected a faint undercurrent of annoyance. Kill stronger enemies for maximum adaptation.

  Could be worse, James responded. I could not use you at all.

  He snorted and crossed the street. The last thing he needed was a prima donna amulet. He’d spent most of his adulthood using Whispy Doom as nothing more than glorifie
d armor, not realizing its true potential. Now that another alien was hunting him, Whispy might be the only thing that would keep him from getting his ass kicked. The damned thing needed to work when he wanted it to work and without a lot of attitude. It was almost like the fucking symbiont thought he should be the one calling the shots.

  The bounty hunter walked up the path to the door, his boots clopping on the brick. Several Andercarr delivery boxes were piled in front of the door. He knew the reason for the open gate now, although it increased the chance no one was at home.

  “Did the fucker run?” James murmured. “Can’t settle scores if you’re already running, Calabrese. Don’t be such a pussy.”

  James stopped in front of the door and rang the doorbell. The lack of response led him to knock hard on the door.

  “Damn it,” he muttered. “Don’t have all fucking day. If he wasn’t even going to be here, I should have just stayed at Jessie Rae’s and had another sandwich before I ordered the ribs. Calabrese better be here if he doesn’t want to really piss me off.”

  James pounded on the door again, not breaking it down only because he couldn’t be certain that Trey’s informant hadn’t sent them to some random innocent person’s house. He’d promised Mack and Maria he’d try to cut down on unnecessary property destruction. It’d help keep his insurance rates down, too.