Eye For An Eye_An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure Read online

  Probably some asshole traffic cop is keeping a list of fines to make me pay when this is all over.

  One of the three cars, a blue sedan, weaved slightly in the mirror.

  Don’t speed if you can’t handle it, asshole.

  A second later a rifle barrel poked out of the window.

  “Oh.” James raised an eyebrow. “That was why.”

  Several bright muzzle flashes followed, but no bullets hit the Humvee. James jinked hard to the right, then back to the left. Breaking glass flew from the back of the vehicle as a bullet struck the back window.

  James rolled down his window and yanked out .45. He kept a tight grip on the wheel with his right hand and blasted away. None of his bullets hit from what he could see, but he’d barely aimed. He cared more about suppression than damage.

  “What the fuck?”

  A glowing portal appeared several yards in front of him and a fireball blasted through it. He let go of the gun to grab the wheel with both hands. His quick reflexes saved the Humvee from being roasted, the fireball smashing into the ground just a few feet away.

  James checked his rearview mirror and laughed. His .45 had embedded itself in the windshield of the blue car.

  Fuck this. He wasn’t going to win if they could toss fireballs through fucking holes in the sky. Damn Oricerans always had to take shit to the next level.

  Flashing lights to the side caught his attention and he glanced that way.

  Several police drones hovered in front of an on-ramp with a line of stopped cars behind them.

  Good. Keep the roads clear and no one gets hurt.

  The bounty hunter’s next course correction sent the Humvee up a steep hill and the entire vehicle shook. More bullets ripped through the back and side of the vehicle.

  Really glad I got that insurance now.

  The truck crested the hill and James hit the brakes, skidding to a halt and throwing up dirt and grass. He threw open the door and jumped out of the vehicle, another .45 in hand from a second holster.

  The crack of gunfire filled the air and bullets whizzed overhead. Another portal appeared, but the fireball smashed into the ground several yards away from both the vehicle and James.

  James dropped and crawled to the top of the hill.

  The three cars had parked at the bottom and he spotted the three drivers, who were all wearing suits: a dark-haired woman, a huge brute, and the elf most likely responsible for trying to roast him.

  “There he is!” the woman yelled, yanking her rifle up.

  James ignored her, instead taking a second to squeeze off two quick shots at the elf. His target cried out and fell backward, blood blossoming from his chest.

  Yeah, should have invested in magic armor, asshole.

  The crack of a rifle sounded and James grunted, pain flaring in his cheek. He rolled backward and touched his face. Blood flowed freely, but the bullet had only skimmed him. An inch more to the side and Rifle Girl would have had a headshot.

  Do I yank off the tab yet? Shit. No. Not yet. With the elf down, I can deal with the others.

  James ran back toward the Humvee. A loud yell got his attention and he jerked around just in time to see the huge brute sailing through the air with his arms in front of him and a glowing blue field surrounding him.

  More damned magic?

  The bounty hunter squeezed off several shots, but none of the impacts did anything more than make the blue field shimmer.

  “What the fuck?”

  The huge brute landed with a grunt and shook out his hands. “These work even better than I was told,” he remarked in a Russian accent. “Strength comes not just for the blows, but also the legs. They told me the gloves were made by a man who only fought others he could punch. He thought men who used weapons from a distance were cowards. Your gun will be useless.”

  “You gonna kill me or fucking talk me to death?”

  The Russian chuckled and raised his gloved fists. “Do you have the balls, James Brownstone, to face me knowing the power I control? I will beat you to death, and you will know the greatest fear you’ve ever experienced.”

  James holstered his weapon. If the guy wanted to do a few rounds of boxing, that was fine by him.

  “You pissed about your elf buddy? If you go down and take him to the hospital right now he’ll probably survive.”

  The Russian snorted. “I dislike Oricerans. They should stay on their planet. Earth is for humans. You’ve done us a service. Plus, now we only have to split the bounty two ways.”

  “That’s cold, asshole.”

  “That is business, little bitch who is about to die.”

  James chuckled. “And you’re using magic. So you hate Oricerans, but you like their toys?”

  “Humans create magic too.”

  “Only because of the crap that’s happening with Oriceran.”

  “You use the tools available for the job.” Dmitri lifted his hand and gestured for James to attack him. “Whatever name you use, James Brownstone or Granite Ghost, I don’t care. Because today you die.”

  James sprinted at the Russian and threw a right hook. The man blocked with ease and returned his own punch. The bounty hunter also blocked, but the blow knocked him back several feet.

  He shook out his hands and grunted. It’d been a long time since he’d fought someone who could take one of his punches without any trouble. That complicated things.

  “He dead yet, Dmitri?” a female voice called. The dark-haired woman with the rifle crested the hill.

  James reacted instantly by going for a throwing knife. The Russian brawler leaped back and brought up his arms, apparently convinced the bounty hunter was attacking him.

  The knife struck the woman in the shoulder, and she grunted and dropped the rifle. James sent another throwing knife her way and the hitwoman turned at the last second, managing to avoid being struck in the heart.

  James spun back toward Dmitri as the man charged him with his fist pulled back. As the Russian threw his fist the blue field glowed brighter and the punch slammed into the bounty hunter’s chest. He grunted as pain spiked from the point of impact. Two more blows followed quickly, then a kick sent James sailing over the top of the hill.

  Maybe I should have used the necklace after all.

  It wasn’t the fall that got a man. It was the sudden stop at the end.

  James landed hard and grunted, rolling down the steep hill until he lay on the edge of the 73. His arms and ribs ached.

  “Not so tough now, are you, Brownstone?” the woman called. She held her left hand against her bloodied shirt and let her right arm, knife still embedded, hang loosely her side. Brownstone hadn’t killed her, but she wasn’t going to be shooting at him anytime soon.

  Dmitri smacked a fist into his gloved palm and the blue field pulsed. “I will be able to take a long vacation after this. Thank you for sharing your information with me, Kayla.”

  “No problem.” The hitwoman sneered at Brownstone. “I’m going to take the next few years off; have some fun down south. Maybe even retire if I get a little investment help. Hey, Dmitri, want to do the honors and finish him off? I would, but that sonofabitch stuck these knives in me.”

  “Da, Kayla. I will handle him.” The Russian grinned. “It is as I told you, Brownstone. Today you die.” There was another blue pulse and Dmitri leaped, his arc taking him straight toward James.

  13

  James rolled to the side to dodge the magically-enhanced Russian hitman. He hopped to his feet, doing his best to ignore the pain in his ribs as he backed up.

  “Be careful, asshole,” he rumbled. “You could really hurt someone doing that.”

  Dmitri grinned. “Oh, good. I like your spirit. It makes it more satisfying. You’re not so tough, huh? All it takes is a little magic to stop you.”

  “Fuck you.” James launched a series of a quick jabs. Dmitri blocked the blows but moved backward. He jerked his knee up and Dmitri staggered from the blow. James thought it only fair to warn h
im. “You got a few lucky hits in, asshole. You still can walk away, but if you come at me again you’re dead.”

  “Finish his ass, Dmitri,” Kayla yelled. She started making her way down the hill. “There are a lot of police drones over there. The cops might already be on their way.”

  Dmitri swung a meaty fist at James, narrowly missing due to a quick sidestep. The hitman shifted to throw another punch, but James slammed a fist into his stomach. The Russian hissed and stumbled backward.

  James had to give it to him. The last time he’d hit a man that hard it’d sent him through a window. He didn’t let up, throwing punch after punch, not giving his enemy any opportunity to counterattack. Dmitri blocked each blow and the blue field surrounding him flashed brighter and turned more opaque with each impact.

  The bounty hunter pivoted and sent his right elbow toward Dmitri, his left hand going underneath his gray coat.

  Dmitri grabbed the elbow and squeezed. Pain shot through James’ arm as the Russian started bending it back.

  “You fool,” the Russian said. “Now I will snap your arm in half like a to—” Dmitri’s eyes widened as James shoved a knife into his throat. The wounded man gurgled as he stumbled backward several feet and slowly collapsed to the ground, blood leaking from the wound.

  “Hurts, don’t it? I figured that might work as long as I was in arm’s reach,” James told him, “I bet you thought you had a shield against any weapon, not just bullets from far away. That’s the problem with magic. Shit’s too complicated to be reliable. Too many damn rules to remember.” He shook his head and glanced at an angry-looking Kayla. “Do you really want to do this, woman? You’re pretty jacked up, but I’m just getting going.” He cracked his knuckles to highlight his point.

  “Fuck you.” The woman narrowed her eyes and dropped to her knees. She then lowered herself to the ground and put her left hand over her head.

  “I’m sure retiring in prison will be just as much fun as down south,” James told her. “Rent’s a lot cheaper, too.”

  “Very funny, Brownstone.”

  Sirens howled, and James glanced across the highway. Several police cruisers and drones were rushing from the onramp toward his location.

  James rubbed his ribs. Dmitri had given him a workout, but his ribs felt more bruised than broken. It wasn’t time to crack out his healing potion just yet. If the bastard hadn’t had the magic gloves the whole thing would have been over in seconds.

  The police cars screeched to a halt and the officers inside piled out, their guns at the ready but pointed at Kayla and not James. At least his day still had a few nice surprises in store.

  One of the cops nodded toward the hitwoman, and an officer moved to cuff her. She hissed in pain as the cops manipulated her wounded arm.

  “Hey, not so rough,” she exclaimed. “I’m wounded here.”

  “Yeah, cry me a river.” The cop scoffed. “It’s crazy how a poor little thing like you got hurt trying to murder a man with the help of two other people.”

  They forced Kayla to her feet and started marching her toward a police cruiser.

  Another cop nodded to Brownstone. “You need to get going. We’ll clean this shit up, but these aren’t the last guys coming after you.”

  James looked at the ever-darkening sky. “Yeah, don’t I know it! Thanks.”

  The cop nodded and started toward the criminals’ cars. James could only imagine the contraband they held.

  “Brownstone,” Kayla called over her shoulder. “Nothing personal. It was just business. Just like you with your bounties.”

  The bounty hunter snorted. “I’ll tell you the same thing I told the last guy who said that. Fucking trying to kill me is very personal. You come after me again, you die.” He stomped up the hill toward the bullet-riddled Humvee.

  No F-350, but it’d been performing well—he’d give it that. He started up the hill, one foot in front of the other.

  He sighed. Still want my own truck back.

  Lieutenant Hall sipped some coffee. “That going-up-the-hill stunt has to be reckless driving. Make sure we note that, Weber. I’m sure we can find a charge for getting his rental shot up. I mean, come on! It’s California.”

  The sergeant tapped the keyboard. “I’ll just type in a note for now, Lieutenant. Man, Brownstone is sure racking up a bunch of citations.”

  Delroy steepled his fingers. “Can we tag something on him for the knife? It didn’t look all that legal. I mean, killing the guy was clearly self-defense. I’m talking about illegal possession, maybe.”

  Maria nodded. “Maybe, and I like the way you think. Did you see the feed when his coat flipped up a little? The man is a walking arsenal. I’m sure he’ll eventually use something illegal, even if the knife wasn’t.”

  The door flew open, and Maria, Delroy, and Sergeant Weber turned to find an angry-looking Sergeant Mack standing in the doorway.

  “What the hell are you doing here, Mack?” Delroy said. “Shouldn’t you be down in bounty processing?”

  Mack snorted. “This shit’s gone on long enough.”

  Maria shrugged and smiled. “I agree. Tell it to Brownstone. He’s the one doing the Pied Piper act with every piece of garbage in the area.”

  “To save cop lives,” Mack thundered. “I’m here not to bitch about Brownstone, but to talk some sense into you fools.”

  Weber and Delroy blinked but didn’t respond.

  Maria snorted. “That’s the problem with all you Brownstone fanboys. You buy into his bullshit. He’s not doing this to save cops lives; he’s doing this to save his own life.”

  Mack shook his head. “He had his chance to protect his own ass. I told him to go into protective custody when he showed up at the station, and he told me he didn’t want cops getting caught up in his shit because he knew it was going to get serious.”

  “That doesn’t prove anything,” she argued.

  “It proves enough. Why do you hate Brownstone so much, Hall?”

  “I’m AET. I deal with enhanced threats, and he’s an enhanced threat. Just because the guy bags criminals doesn’t mean he’s not a threat to innocent people.”

  “Bullshit. That’s not the reason.”

  The lieutenant arched a brow. “Bullshit? Okay, enlighten me, Sergeant.”

  Mack pointed at her and then Delroy. “You guys don’t like Brownstone because he’s doing our jobs for us, and deep down you think that it makes us look weak or some such crap. That guy doesn’t have to do what he does. He could have been a thug. Hell, he could have been an accountant, but instead he’s trying to make sure cop asses don’t go down to guys like King Pyro—and you guys want to send him to an ultramax.”

  “Do you have a point, Mack?” the lieutenant asked. “Or you just here to whine and fanboy over Brownstone?”

  The sergeant frowned. “If you’re sick of Brownstone doing our jobs for us, maybe we should start doing them.” He pointed toward one of the drone feeds. “Instead of just watching, maybe we should actually do something to get this situation under control.”

  The lieutenant snorted. “I thought Brownstone didn’t want us getting involved? What about saving cop lives? You saying we should risk blue lives for Brownstone?”

  “I’m saying there’s at least shit we can do to put more pressure on the people trying to mess with him, and maybe start convincing the damned criminals they don’t get to do whatever they want.”

  “Like what, exactly?”

  Mack turned his narrowed his eyes on Delroy. “Doesn’t the gang task force care at all that the Harriken are setting up hits and not even giving a fuck what cops think? It’s like they don’t think we can do anything to stop them.”

  Delroy glared at the sergeant. “What are we supposed to do?”

  “Roust some Harriken, at least. We mess with them a little, it’ll give Brownstone more of a chance and send a message to the Harriken that they don’t get to do whatever the hell they want. From what I hear, there are a lot of Harriken on the street p
assing along information.”

  “That’s...true,” Delroy admitted. “So?”

  “If you want your balls back, Washington, earn them.” Mack pointed to the feeds. “AET’s got the whole county crawling with drones. Start searching for Harriken, and then bust their asses for whatever reason. I’m sure most of them are packing illegal firearms, at least, or violating parole conditions or some shit. They’re scum. I’m sure we can find something.”

  Maria shook her head. “What good does a bunch of arrests that maybe won’t stick even do? Aren’t we just wasting time?”

  “Look, the Harriken started this shit, but eventually Brownstone’s going to end it. The fewer of them on the street the easier it is for him, whether they’re attacking anyone or just paying other people. I’m guessing holding their asses for seventy-two hours will be enough.”

  A thoughtful look crossed Delroy’s face and he pursed his lips. “Maybe.”

  Maria gritted her teeth. “Delroy, you can’t seriously be buying into this crap. Screwing with the Harriken for a few days isn’t going to change anything.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Delroy countered. “Look, Brownstone’s going to do his thing anyway. I don’t see why upping the odds of him taking out the Harriken and all their hired help is such a bad idea. We’ve got intel that Jiro Ikeda is in town, and if he goes down it’s going to cripple the Harriken across the entire United States.” He stared at Maria. “But we’ll need your AET surveillance resources to make this work. Our task force doesn’t have enough juice.”

  The AET lieutenant’s face reddened, and she turned away. The three men in the room stared at her, awaiting her response.

  “Fine,” she grimaced. “But I’m not doing this for Brownstone. I’m doing this because at the end there might be one less criminal organization with power in our area.” She held up a finger. “And this doesn’t mean that Brownstone’s not going to have to pay a fuck-ton of fines when this is over.”