She Is The Widow Maker: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure (The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Book 5) Read online

  She Is The Widow Maker

  The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Book Five

  Michael Anderle

  She Is The Widow Maker (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

  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, June 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

  Chapter 25

  Author Notes - Michael Anderle

  Other Revelation of Oriceran Universe Books

  Other Books by Michael Anderle

  Connect with Michael Anderle

  She Is The Widow Maker Team

  Special Thanks

  to Mike Ross

  for BBQ Consulting

  Jessie Rae’s BBQ - Las Vegas, NV

  Thanks to our Beta Reader

  Natalie Roberts

  Thanks to the JIT Readers

  John Ashmore

  Kelly O’Donnell

  James Caplan

  Peter Manis

  Micky Cocker

  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.

  1

  The five Drow sat around a massive blue-crystal table. They glanced on occasion at a door and waited for the consulate staffer to return.

  “Are we sure the new Princess of the Shadow Forged is even in this wretched hive of humans?” Laena asked. The Drow woman didn’t want to spend more time on Earth than necessary. “Just because her mother died near this city doesn’t mean the girl is still around.”

  A Drow man frowned. “It’s our only real option unless we wish to involve the human authorities or ask for additional help. Our attempts to track her have failed. Someone is using powerful magic to shield her location.”

  Laena hissed. “The less the humans know the better, and we are Drow. We don’t go begging gnomes, Light Elves, or anyone else for assistance. Besides, if more learn of her wish, it’ll only cause more trouble for us. It’s disgraceful that we can’t go and just seize the girl directly.”

  “We have to be careful about this. Everything we’ve learned suggests the girl grew up thinking she was human, not even knowing about her Drow heritage. If we approach her too aggressively it might become a problem.”

  “She’ll adapt. The longer we wait, the more of a problem it’ll become. At least before she had a Drow parent around her, now she’s with this…James Brownstone, another human.” Laena sneered. “If he knows about the wish, he’ll try to persuade her to use it for him rather than the benefit of the Drow. She belongs with us, and we should do what is necessary to reclaim her.”

  “But the humans—”

  Laena slammed her fist on the table. “I don’t care what the humans think. They are barbarians who murder each other with impunity. They lack honor, vision, and strength. We will save our princess from them, even if we have to annoy a few people who overly value stability and false peace.”

  The gathered Drow nodded their agreement.

  Someone knocked on the door, and the Drow fell silent. A Light Elf in a suit entered a moment later with an apologetic smile on his face.

  Laena resisted the urge to snort. Many Oricerans were adapting to human ways, and so many of them were obsessed with precious human technology. Turning Oriceran into Earth wasn’t the answer. They needed to understand that.

  Oriceran might have problems, but it’d accomplished things the humans couldn’t even dream: a peace that had lasted centuries, and stability—a balance within their world.

  Such concerns would have to wait. The princess needed to be retrieved. Laena could worry about the future after they accomplished that.

  “I’m sorry for the wait,” the Light Elf apologized. “After speaking with my superiors, I’ve been authorized to pass along some information, including some warnings that you should be aware of so you don’t cause trouble for yourself or the local Oriceran population. We’ve established good relations here, with not too much resentment.”

  “I heard a Light Elf was murdered by a human earlier this year, and the human authorities let the murderer go because he claimed he had been cursed. That seems like a lot of resentment to me.”

  The elf’s face tightened. “There are difficulties when different populations mix. It’s…to be expected.”

  “I know how we have handled that.”

  The Light Elf narrowed his eyes. “So do I, which is why I don’t want you causing trouble for the rest of us. But some of this is about protecting you from trouble as well.”

  Laena didn’t care about inconveniencing anyone. She didn’t even want to be on Earth. If the previous princess hadn’t run off, they wouldn’t have had to come sniffing for her daughter.

  She glared at him. “We’re Drow. We’re more than capable of protecting ourselves from humans.”

  The Light Elf sighed. “Normally I’d agree, but when it comes to James Brownstone…”

  James shifted in the comfortable seats of his F-350. His phone was to his ear. “Yeah. Shay is out of town on another acquisition trip.”

  Alison sighed on her end. “She’s always out of the country.”

  “Goes with the job, kid. Can’t expect artifacts to be hidden underneath some Walmart in Madison, Wisconsin.”

  “I guess. Do you at least know when she’ll be back?”

  James chuckled. “She’ll be back when she’s back. She’s not great about giving me her schedule, but it should be soon. She told me it’d be a short trip when she left.”

  “Well, maybe next time we can make it a family trip. Stevie mentioned a family trip to Europe they were taking during summer break; actually for the whole summer break. Maybe we c
an do something like that, Dad.”

  He’d still not gotten used to being called Dad, but at the same time his heart warmed every time he heard it. With Alison, Shay, and his new friends in his life and the Harriken threat destroyed, for the first time in a long time James had allowed hope to sneak into his heart.

  “I don’t know.” James sighed. “That might be too long for either Shay or me to not go on jobs.”

  “It doesn’t have to be for the whole summer. Maybe you can do some on the side. There are plenty of bad guys in foreign countries. I mean, you can do what you did in Japan.”

  “It wasn’t exactly a sightseeing trip, though, and other than some good yakiniku places, I wouldn’t want you hanging out at a lot of the places where I had to go.”

  Alison groaned. “Just saying we can be like Stevie’s family and go see some place other than Los Angeles. I’ve lived there all my life until now, and I don’t get away from the school in Virginia all that much.”

  “I’ve lived in LA all my life, too.”

  “Then you know it’s boring.”

  “It’s a lot of things, but I would never say it’s boring." The warmth of familial discussion faded as fatherly paranoia grew. “Wait. Stevie? Who the he…who is this guy, anyway? I don’t remember you mentioning him before.”

  “Stevie? Stevie’s not a guy. Stevie’s a girl. She’s in a couple of classes with me. We aren’t that close, but I talk with her sometimes.”

  James sighed in relief. “Oh, good. Just a girl.”

  Alison laughed. “Seriously? Are you going to freak out about every guy who talks to me? Half this school is guys, you know.”

  “Not…every guy,” he grumbled.

  The girl continued laughing.

  “Okay, come on, stop laughing! So I’m a little protective, okay? That’s what fathers are supposed to be.”

  Alison regained control. “Dad, I can handle a few guys, and it doesn’t matter anyway. Everyone knows about the famous James Brownstone, so most of them tiptoe around me anyway.”

  “Good.” James grunted. “Saves me trips and ammo.”

  The sound of scratching and shifting filled the line. “What?” Alison’s voice sounded distant as if the phone weren’t next to her mouth. “Really? Okay, just let me finish up with my dad.”

  “It’s okay,” James told her. “Do what you need to do.”

  “Okay, talk to you later. Love you, Dad.”

  “I love you too, Alison.”

  James ended the call and glanced out the truck’s window at the modest ranch house. The well-maintained yard spoke of care compared to the overgrown messes in front of many nearby houses, but the peeling blue paint revealed issues with time or money.

  He looked up at movement in his rearview mirror. Eight men with skull tattoos on their faces were coming up the street. Demon Generals. They were far outside their territory. A bunch of gangbangers gathering conveniently near the leader of another gang didn’t strike James as a coincidence.

  Really, fuckers? Now I’m never gonna have a chance to talk with Trey.

  James stared at the house for a moment. Trey’s grandmother had lived in that house for longer than either Trey or James had lived. He’d come there to catch up with his friend, but didn’t want to interrupt Trey’s time with his grandmother or risk the wrath of the cane-wielding old woman inside.

  Too bad. He’d managed to make it a few days without kicking anyone’s ass.

  He texted Trey.

  You might hear some noise in the next few minutes. Stay inside with your grandma.

  Shit. You sure?

  Just some DG pussies looking to cause some trouble. They should have stuck to their territory. Besides, I owe these guys for trying to screw with my stuff.

  You do what you do best, Big Man.

  James slid his phone back into his pocket and stepped out of his truck onto the sidewalk. The Demon Generals continued to saunter in his direction, half on the sidewalk and half on the road. He waited until they were about ten yards out.

  Time to make an offer. If they chose to reject it, that was their own damned fault.

  “Go home.” The bounty hunter punctuated his sentence by cracking his knuckles and glaring.

  The gang members all laughed.

  “Who the fuck are you, you ugly piece of shit?” one of them called. “Your mama drop you in a vat of wax or some shit when you were born?”

  James assumed the man was a leader or lieutenant, given that he was a yard ahead of any of the others.

  “Doesn’t matter who I am. This neighborhood doesn’t need any trouble, let alone the old lady in the house you’re heading to. You’re outside your territory, too.”

  The gang member grinned; he had murder in his eyes. “That bitch Trey’s in there. You think you some sort of friend of Trey’s? You can’t trust that bitch. He’s not even playing the right way. That fucker worked with the cops to get some of our homies locked up, so now we’re gonna have a little talk with that squealing little bitch and his grandma, too. If you don’t want to get fucked up, get the fuck out of here. You understand me, you ugly sonofabitch?”

  James heaved a sigh and ran a hand over his close-cropped hair. “I don’t give one shit about whatever gangland bullshit rules you think exist. From what I heard, you were going to steal from a man, and a concerned neighborhood citizen made sure that didn’t happen.”

  “Yeah, bitch. We heard that big-ass bounty hunter James Brownstone was out of town and shit, so we was gonna show him he ain’t all that.”

  James grunted. His reputation was spreading over the world, but many people still managed not to know who he was. The combination might prove useful in the future, but for now he wanted to use it to screw with the gang member.

  “Hey, what’s Brownstone look like? I’m curious. I heard he’s been on television a lot.”

  “I don’t watch TV. That shit rots your brain.”

  The gang members all laughed.

  “And Brownstone?” the gang member continued. “Ugly motherfucker, I’ve heard. Got all these tattoos and funny shit on his face.” The man’s eyes widened. “Shit, bitch.” The DG sneered. “You’re even uglier than I heard. Guess I should watch more fucking news so I can identify all the ugly motherfuckers around LA.”

  James gave the man a feral grin. “You assholes were trying to steal from me, and Trey made sure that didn’t happen. Now I’m gonna repay the favor. You can turn around right now and walk away, or I can beat the living fuck out of you to teach you a lesson about respecting personal property.”

  “Fuck you, bitch. I heard that when a bunch of hitmen came, you ran off to hide behind a bunch of Marines like a pussy. You ain’t shit. I bet you got a bunch of people to help you with them Japanese fucks, too. You’re all smoke, no fire, Brownstone.”

  His men hooted and hollered behind him.

  James snorted. He’d only led the hitmen to Camp Pendleton to avoid collateral damage. The stubborn refusal of some in the underworld to see the obvious amazed him at times. If the Demon Generals didn’t want to believe his reputation he’d make them feel it in their broken bones and battered faces, and then they could pass it along to other assholes who didn’t believe it.

  Even without his amulet, James could take eight pieces of shit without pulling his gun.

  Some of their humor drained from their faces, as if they could sense his violent intent. The gang members spread out and widened their stances.

  He’d give them credit for being a little aware, but only some.

  “You assholes probably aren’t worth any real bounty money even all together.” James shifted to his side. Their leader might talk a lot of shit, but he wasn’t one of the bigger guys. “Still gonna take you down.”

  “Bring it then, bi—”

  The bounty hunter rushed forward and slammed a fist into the largest gang member. There was a sickening crunch and the man flew backward several yards. Half the remaining men stood there stunned.

  Three
of the others, including the one who’d been speaking, charged James. The leader got an elbow in the face for his trouble. He collapsed to the ground, blood spewing from his destroyed nose, but James’ restraint saved the man from death.

  The bounty hunter grabbed the next two men by the necks and slammed them together. They went down in a tangle of limbs and groaned.

  Another gang member managed to yank his gun out with a trembling hand and fire. His shot didn’t come close, and James’ fist landed square in the man’s face. He collapsed and his gun skittered across the ground.

  James spun and bowled into another gang member. The thug’s outstretched arm braced his fall, but the crack and the scream that followed proved he’d broken it.

  That gang member’s pain was only beginning. A powerful kick launched the man into his two remaining friends, who were both pointing guns. They grunted and fell back and no shots ensued.

  James was done with the farce. He yanked out his .45 and pointed it at the men.

  “Drop your fucking guns or I will give you new nostrils.”

  The remaining Demon Generals dropped their guns and raised their hands. Most moaned in pain. Their blood stained the pavement, but all remained conscious.

  “You got two choices, fuckers.” James gestured with his gun. “I could just cap you now. It might cause me trouble, but I’m really fucking annoyed that the assholes in your gang thought they could steal my shit, and even more fucking annoyed that you came to mess with Trey over it at his grandmother’s house.”