Bring The Pain_An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure Read online

  Shay frowned. “I don’t know. Wouldn’t that drive him deeper underground?”

  “Nope. From what I’ve read, this asshole’s been picking up the pace the more the media talks about him. He also left some sort of note ranting about the corruption of society, and how anyone who is helping fight the chaos is a tool of darkness and shit like that.”

  “Huh.” Shay shrugged. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised that a serial killer would be fucked up. What about the Harriken?”

  “What about them? It’s not like they don’t know I’m here. The assassins might have been distracted by the decoy, but three of them have found me. No, those Harriken fuckers aren’t gonna come after me on the street. I’m past the point of fucking hiding.”

  Shay shrugged. “Okay, then. I guess let’s smoke ourselves out a serial killer.”

  Trevor looked out the window into the brightly lit streets of Tokyo, watching the lines of lights marking the traffic. “It’s down to just us, Sabine. Hisa missed her check-in.”

  The German assassin glanced down at her necklace. “I want to go last.”

  Trevor turned away from the door to smile at the woman. “You sure? Now that Brownstone is making so much noise trying to rattle some serial killer it’s easy to track him. I’m going to kill him very soon, you know.”

  Sabine shook her head. “No. You’ll try to, but you’ll fail.”

  “I’m not an idiot like the others. I’ve no intention of taking him on directly. I’ve also been persuaded he’s dangerous. He’ll never see the face of his killer.”

  Sabine’s smile mocked him. “A coward will never kill Brownstone, only a warrior like him.” She licked her lips. “And that warrior’s soul will be mine soon.”

  Trevor snorted. “I don’t care if you think I’m a coward. I’m an assassin.” He headed toward the door. “And Brownstone is just another mark.”

  A few days passed while James taunted the killer with the help of Peyton, Shay, and various public-awareness ads.

  Currently James sat across from Shay at a cracked and scratched wooden table at a yakiniku place in Kabukichō. Several prostitutes dined nearby, shooting him bright smiles occasionally. A few tattooed Yakuza watched him as well with a mix of wariness and respect in their eyes. None dared approach him.

  Peyton’s research and hacking of police records revealed the killer was almost exclusively targeting people in that neighborhood, which was dangerous anyway. The researcher had also discovered the police had concealed that the killer had slain more people than had been revealed to the media, including several prostitutes in the area.

  The local Yakuza were hunting the man and the rumors said that even the Harriken had a kill-on sight-order if anyone encountered the culprit, even though in general they kept a light touch on the area.

  James hadn’t seen a single Harriken, which made him wonder if they were purposely avoiding him.

  Yeah, you fuckers aren’t so tough now, are you?

  “I can’t believe so many websites and radio stations are running those ads,” Shay said, glancing down at a picture of James’ face next to brightly-colored Japanese characters. “It’s like you’re some weird celebrity who came over to hawk soap or something. ‘Buy this. Brownstone says it’s the only thing stronger than him!’”

  James chuckled. “Hey, there’s nothing bad about the ads. They just talk about my track record and how I’m gonna protect the people of Tokyo. It’s more like a political ad than a soap ad.”

  “Brownstone for mayor of Tokyo. He’ll beat down taxes like he beats down criminals!” Shay laughed. “I just...can’t get over you sometimes. Assassins target you, so you go straight to them. You’re looking for a serial killer, so you take out ads bragging about yourself while sitting in the heart of the city ruled by your enemies.”

  The corners of James’ mouth quirked in a smile. “It’s sim—”

  “Simpler,” Shay finished for him. “Yeah, yeah. You’re lucky you’re such a badass, Brownstone. Most other people would have ended up dead long ago pulling half the shit you do.”

  “I’ve gotta be me.” James grinned.

  Shay rose and winked. “You keep being you. I’m gonna make myself scarce in case our boy won’t approach unless you’re alone. Enjoy the rest of your meat.” Her mouth quirked into a smirk.

  Probably thinking something dirty again, aren’t you?

  James picked up a slice of beef with his fork. “I will.” He stuffed it into his mouth, then flagged down a server to order more beef and pork.

  When Shay departed relief spread over the faces of several of the prostitutes who had been watching the pair. A few batted their eyelashes at James.

  Not here for that, ladies.

  The bounty hunter planned to spend a full hour or two at the restaurant, just as he’d done the last few days, and with the amount of food he’d ordered the owner didn’t mind. He’d even taken a picture of James making a V sign and put it on the wall.

  James had trouble understanding the man and the translation app on his phone didn’t help much, but the owner seemed to think the bounty hunter brought him good luck. Or maybe the owner just believed the bounty hunter would kick the ass of anyone who might cause trouble.

  A few minutes later James’ phone buzzed and he read Shay’s text.

  Whatever you do, don’t eat anything else that comes out. Encountered another friend of yours.

  James grunted. He was almost out of beef. Fucking assassin should have waited until after lunch.

  A thin man in a rumpled business suit and glasses pushed into the restaurant, his gaze focused like a laser on James.

  The bounty hunter locked eyes with him. He didn’t need Alison’s soul sight to see the evil radiating from the shifty-eyed bastard.

  The new arrival marched right over to James’ table and inhaled deeply. “You’re James Brownstone, right?”

  “Yeah.” The bounty hunter frowned, surprised at the man’s crystal-clear words and British accent.

  Huh. Guess it doesn’t make any sense for him to have an American accent if he’s gonna speak perfect English.

  “What’s your name, asshole?” James rumbled.

  The man sniffed. “You can call me ‘the Cleaner.’”

  Of course—another nickname.

  James glanced at a nearby table with several Yakuza. He nodded to them and then to the door, hoping they understood his meaning. The men offered polite nods back and rose, rattling off something in curt Japanese to the other customers.

  Soon, a conga line of gangsters, prostitutes, and middle-aged men was making its way outside.

  The owner frowned and started shouting something in Japanese, but the Yakuza shouted back. The owner looked at James.

  “I’ll pay for their meals.” He pointed at the Cleaner. “And get some beef slices for my new friend.”

  “Yes, Brownstone-san,” the owner replied and hurried to the back.

  The Cleaner continued watching James, resting his elbows on the table and his chin in his hands. “You sent those maggots away to save them? It’s not worth your time. None of them deserve to live.”

  “It’s less trouble for me if they’re fewer people around, so it doesn’t matter if they deserve it.”

  “I think you and I are alike, Mr. Brownstone.”

  James snorted. “Not fucking likely.”

  The Cleaner smirked. “Aren’t we? You’re a cleaner too. Scum infests your country and your city and you get rid of it. Sometimes you even kill, don’t you? How is that different than me?”

  “I only go after legal bounties, not random-ass people.” James narrowed his eyes. “And I don’t torture them.”

  “Random? There’s no randomness to any of this. I target those who are poisoning my society and I kill them. Whores weaken the moral fabric of society. Corrupt businessmen sell out our country’s soul for profit, and people who talk at the movies are rude and care only about themselves.”

  James blinked. “People who talk at
movies?”

  “Rude is one of the worst things a person can be. It proves they don’t care about anyone but themselves. Anti-social behavior should be punished.”

  The bounty hunter sighed and shrugged. “Look, I don’t really give a fuck about your reasons. You’ve killed, and the cops want to talk to you. You have two choices: you can either turn yourself in or I can take you in. I’m not gonna lie—I’d love to smack you around a little, you twisted fuck.”

  The Cleaner slammed his hand on the table, causing James’ utensils to clatter. “I will never surrender to the tools of corruption. I would rather die first.”

  “Not my call, but either way you’re going in.”

  The Cleaner laughed and shook his head. “You think you’re strong and can defeat me.” The man pulled off his jacket and ripped open his sleeve, a glowing tattoo of a tengu, a winged Japanese long-nosed goblin.

  “Nice ink. I am supposed to be impressed?”

  “You shouldn’t have sent the others away. With this I can stop anyone, even the mighty James Brownstone.”

  James resisted pulling his gun out and ending the fucker right there. The only reason he didn’t was that the poor owner would have to clean up all the gore.

  “If you’re helping out Tokyo so much,” the bounty hunter said, “why not tell people about it at your trial?”

  The Cleaner snorted. “The law is a tool of the corrupt system. I will never get a real trial. Most people have let the darkness swallow their minds.”

  The owner pushed through the door leading to the back, two plates filled with beef slices in hand. He hurried over to the table and set a plate in front of James and one before the Cleaner. He shot a pleading look at the bounty hunter.

  “Don’t worry,” James said. “I’m not gonna break anything in here. I like the food too much.”

  The owner nodded, bowed, and scurried back into the kitchen.

  The Cleaner snatched up a piece of beef with his chopsticks and downed it without much in the way of chewing.

  “You should savor the flavor, asshole,” James commented. “Otherwise, why even bother going out to eat?”

  “Food is a distraction. Flesh is a distraction. The corruption has blinded us all to that. The existence of Oriceran only confirms that we’re in the Latter Day of the Law. This world is degenerate and suffering. I will embrace the darkness to push back the darkness, even at the cost of myself. That is how much I am willing to sacrifice despite the cesspool called civil—”

  The Cleaner dropped face first into his plate of beef slices.

  James stared at the man, waiting for him to pop up and continue his rant.

  A scream ripped through the alley behind the bar, and seconds later Shay burst through the kitchen door and rushed to the table.

  The tomb raider stared down at the Cleaner. “It’s fucking poisoned. I spotted Trevor Moses sneaking into the kitchen and adding a special ingredient. I thought I told you not to eat anything.”

  James nodded at the Cleaner. “I didn’t eat anything. The asshole did.”

  “Whatever. Grab him and let’s go. I was hoping we could zap Trevor’s body to the World In Between, but they’ve already found it.”

  “Damn, now I won’t be able to come back to this place. At least I can take out some trash for them.”

  James fished several large bills out of his wallet and tossed them on the table, then threw the Cleaner’s still-warm body over his shoulder and headed toward the door.

  Shay followed him. “Four down, one to go.”

  Tyler groaned and slowly opened his eyes. Something was buzzing.

  “What the fuck?”

  It was his phone.

  The bartender/information broker snatched the phone from his nightstand.

  “Some fucker better be dead to be calling me so fucking early.”

  He rubbed his eyes and looked down at the text.

  Four out of five gone, TM most recent. Only SH left.

  Tyler bolted upright, now awake. “Time to update the odds.” He texted back.

  Cops playing too. Real family-friendly event. It’s almost respectable.

  Cops?

  Yeah, an AET chick and some of her friends.

  Brownstone waited a good minute before responding. Is she betting on me?

  Yeah. She’s like me. She hates your ass, but likes money more.

  That’s me. Bringing people together.

  Fuck you, Brownstone.

  Tyler followed his text with ten middle-finger emojis.

  21

  The next morning, James had just finished his shower when his phone rang. He slapped a towel around his waist and headed over to the grab the phone.

  Unknown number.

  “This is Brownstone,” the bounty hunter answered.

  “This is Sabine Haas. You’ve come to Japan to look for me. I thought I would save you the trouble.”

  James couldn’t help but chuckle. “You assholes are calling me directly now? You’ve got balls.”

  “It’s my understanding, Mr. Brownstone, that you prefer direct confrontation. Now that you have disposed of the others, I’m ready to deal with you. In thirty minutes I will be at a construction site. I will send you the address. If you wish to end this, come for me there.”

  “I could just call a TEK team to come and bust your ass. Not even sure there’s a bounty on you. Not really worth my time.”

  Sabine gave a throaty laugh. “If you call the police I’ll escape. I’ll wait until the next time you’re sitting at some cute little restaurant surrounded by your sycophants and we’ll start the battle there. If you’re not a coward who would hide behind the weak, you’ll come to the construction site.”

  “You’re the fucking coward, bitch.”

  “Perhaps, but you can prove you’re not one. Also, don’t bother having your little girlfriend try to sneak up on me. I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised to learn she was still alive. She was always a roach, but if she’s so eager to kill she should join you and face me.”

  James grunted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Fine. I don’t care. I can kill her later, after I’ve killed you. Come to the address in thirty minutes. Auf wiedersehen.” Sabine hung up.

  The phone buzzed, signaling the text with the address. James glanced at the address and activated his map app.

  “Damn it.”

  James wouldn’t have enough time to get breakfast first.

  Fucking inconsiderate assassin.

  James and Shay rolled up to the construction site. Tall stacks of metal girders and wood littered the area, and a few massive cranes and bulldozers had been parked at the edge of the zone. Construction had barely begun, with only a few water pipes laid in recently-dug ditches.

  Shay surveyed the site and pointed into the distance. Sabine was about a hundred yards away on top of a stack of wood.

  “Everything I’ve heard and that Peyton could dig up suggests she’s gonna be tougher than the rest.”

  “Let’s just get this shit over with so I can get some damned breakfast,” James rumbled.

  Shay laughed. “Love your priorities there, Brownstone.”

  Eerie whispers sounded in his mind.

  Yeah, you’re gonna help me today, amulet.

  James had bonded with the amulet before they’d gotten in the car. Sabine might be tough and have a magic necklace, but he figured that only meant she’d last a couple of minutes longer than her buddies had. He hadn’t even bothered to bring either of his healing potions. He wanted to save them for the Harriken raid.

  This shit won’t take long. She’s got a nickname, and she’s calling up to taunt me? She hasn’t met anyone like me before, and I’m gonna punish her for fucking with people’s souls.

  The bounty hunter and the tomb raider stepped out of their rental Toyota, their coats flapping in the light breeze as they made their way toward the assassin.

  Sabine hopped off her makeshift throne and sauntered
toward them like they were all meeting for brunch. Her jeans, tennis shoes, and cream-colored top only reinforced the casual feeling of the encounter. They stopped about ten yards from each other.

  The German assassin smiled. She had something approaching happiness in her icy-blue eyes. “Thank you for not making this more complicated, Mr. Brownstone. I appreciate your bravery and honor it.”

  “Hey, I like shit simple. This was simple.”

  Sabine’s gaze cut to Shay. “And look at you! I’m sure I can squeeze some money out of someone for killing you. Well, killing you again.”

  Shay snorted. “You have to win first, bitch.”

  The assassin chuckled and returned her attention to James. “You should be honored, Mr. Brownstone. I’ve decided you’re worth a rare display of my true power.”

  James shrugged. “Thanks, I guess.”

  The whispers grew louder and more insistent in his mind as if the amulet was worried about something.

  Sabine’s pale fingers rubbed the polished obsidian pendant hanging from her necklace. “Grendel, gib mir deine Stärke. Grendel, mach mir die Krallen deiner Rache.” The necklace glowed for a few seconds and the woman’s eyes turned solid black.

  James grunted and whipped out his .45. “What the fuck did she just say?”

  Can’t the Harriken just stick to hiring people who speak Spanish or English to kill me? I’m an American. We don’t do foreign languages.

  Shay frowned. “She asked Grendel to give her strength and make her his revenge claws.”

  “I thought the Grendel was just a monster in a story.”

  Shay pulled out her 9mm. “Guess not. Fucking magic.”

  “Fucking magic,” James echoed.

  Sabine laughed, her eyes as dark as the hole to the World in Between. “Magic has returned. True strength has returned. Now I will show you my power.”

  James narrowed his eyes, realizing for the first time that Sabine didn’t have a gun or any obvious weapon. She hadn’t worn a coat, so she didn’t have anywhere to hide one. What that implicated about her strength wasn’t lost on him.