Fight Fire With Fire_An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure Read online

  The elf laughed. “How wasteful. There are plenty of spells for musical prowess that don’t require you to sell your soul. Foolish human.”

  Maria opened her mouth to explain that it was only a story, but closed it and shrugged. Given what she did on a daily basis, she couldn’t say the legend wasn’t true. While she highly doubted the bluesman had sold his soul to the literal Devil, she wouldn’t put it past some Oriceran asshole to have popped over to Mississippi to collect a free soul in exchange for what Dannec implied wasn’t even that powerful a kind of magic.

  “Problem, Lieutenant?” Dannec inquired.

  “Nothing, just got a little lost in thought.” Maria slid the backpack off her shoulder. “Got some deflectors in here. Can you recharge the ones we used?”

  Dannec inclined his head just a touch too slowly to hide the smile at the corner of his mouth. “I’d be more than happy to. It will, of course, cost.”

  Maria raised her eyebrow. “Of course. Money, I hope, and not more favors.”

  “I need money more at the moment than favors, so yes.”

  She handed over the backpack. “How much?”

  Dannec took a quick look inside the backpack. “I’ll have to examine them first to see how much effort it’ll take, but I can assure you, it’ll be much cheaper than new deflectors.”

  Maria sighed. “Okay, just let Tyler know, and he’ll pass it along to me. The less trail I leave for this stuff, the better.”

  Dannec gave her a broad smile, his eyes twinkling with merriment. “As always, a pleasure doing business with you.”

  Maria wondered if the Devil offered lower prices.

  2

  James hopped out of his F-350 in front of Trey’s grandmother’s house, wondering if he should have pressed his friend more on what sort of favor she wanted. She was aware of his reputation as a bounty hunter, so he assumed it involved kicking somebody’s ass. However, if it was just a simple bounty, why hadn’t she asked her grandson to handle it?

  It wasn’t like the old lady frequented criminal hangouts, so she shouldn’t have had any run-ins with level-three or higher bounties.

  Maybe she just has some nasty animals in her yard she wants me to scare off. Whatever it is should be easy shit to handle.

  James grunted as he walked up the brick path to her front door. The kids and parents in Las Vegas wouldn’t have expected to have to deal with a level-four bounty either. Douchebags drunk on power didn’t stick to ratholes and caves. If they did, James wouldn’t have a job.

  If some magical douchebag is messing with an old woman, he’s gonna be very fucking sorry. And very hurt, soon.

  The bounty hunter knocked on the door, continuing to conjure up weird-ass scenarios such as the possibility that Trey’s grandmother had run into a necromancer while buying groceries.

  Fucking necromancers. Why don’t you just let a woman buy her toilet paper and pork in peace, you sonsabitches?

  Charlyce, Trey’s aunt, and now an administrative assistant for the Brownstone Agency, opened the door and put a finger to her mouth.

  “You’re nothing but a little fool,” Trey’s grandmother yelled from the living room. “I can’t believe you’re such a fool that you’d come here and spew this garbage to my face in my home.”

  What the hell? Did Trey piss her off? Did he call him over here to save his ass from his grandmother?

  James frowned. He didn’t want to get in the middle of a family fight.

  Charlyce opened the door wider. It wasn’t Trey standing there, but one of his boys. The bounty hunter was moving away from calling them gang members now that they’d left the streets to train as new bounty hunters and information gatherers for the Brownstone Agency, but they’d always be Trey’s boys in his mind.

  “Garbage?” the former gang member shouted. “It ain’t nothing but the truth. Fuck Brownstone, that bitch.”

  Guess I’m in the middle of this, but at least it’s not a family matter.

  James recognized the angry young man as nineteen-year-old Lachlan. From what Trey had told him, the kid was having more trouble adjusting to life off the street than a lot of the others. He’d given up on the gang, dissatisfied with the direction Trey was taking things.

  That had left Lachlan with nowhere to go, since no other gangs had dared try to move into the neighborhood. Word had gotten out, not only about how Trey’s gang were now the arms of James Brownstone, but also about when the Demon Generals had torn up the neighborhood and both the cops and Brownstone had beat them down.

  An individual gang might be willing to risk a confrontation with the cops, Trey’s boys, or Brownstone, but not all three. The territory just wasn’t worth the hassle.

  James hadn’t cared about Lachlan leaving, but now he was causing trouble. That made it his problem again.

  You should have just stayed away, kid, and not fucked with an old woman.

  “Don’t talk to me like that, boy,” Trey’s grandmother shouted, brandishing her cane at Lachlan.

  The gang member snorted. “I didn’t come here for your permission, old lady. I came here to let you know that your grandson had better watch it. This neighborhood needs a gang leader, and if he’s given up, I’m gonna take that position. If that bitch Trey gets in my way, I’ll beat his ass down.” He smacked his fist into his palm. “I’ma beat anyone’s ass down who gets in my way.”

  The old woman laughed in Lachlan’s face. “Listen to you. Nothing but nonsense. First of all, boy, Trey hasn’t given up anything. He decided to become someone worthy of respect, and he made sure to bring you all along, but you—you’re gonna throw that away? Fool. You’re a little boy pretending to be a man. It’s pathetic.”

  “I don’t want no fucking respect.” Lachlan snarled. “I want people to be afraid of me.”

  “Don’t matter. You want to run the gang that controls the neighborhood?”

  “That’s damned right. I’m gonna be the new shit around here, and everyone’s gonna know not to fuck with this neighborhood.”

  I can’t take this bullshit much longer.

  Charlyce shook her head as she stepped aside to let James enter. The bounty hunter’s fingers itched to toss this little asshole onto the lawn for the way he was disrespecting Trey’s grandmother, but he refrained. The woman would ask for help if she needed it.

  Besides, he’d seen her cane-wielding skills in action. She had this.

  Trey’s grandmother shook her head. “You can’t run the gang, boy. This neighborhood already has a gang, and there’s no way you have a chance against the man running the gang.”

  Lachlan scoffed. “Trey? Fuck that bitch. He ain’t so tough.”

  The old woman pointed her cane at him. “This is your last warning, boy, and I’m not talking about Trey. I’m talking about James Brownstone. Trey works for him. All the boys work for him, which means he runs the gang now.” She laughed. “You think you can take on James Brownstone? You think you can take on the Granite Ghost? HA! You’d have to be high to believe that.”

  “Brownstone’s nothin’ but a bitch who keeps getting lucky. I only di’n’t pop his sorry ass because he’s up to his neck with the 5-0 and I don’t need them breathing down my neck. I wouldn’t even need my gun. He’d be crying on his knees, begging me to leave him alone. Don’t matter how tough he is. He ain’t bulletproof.”

  James smiled at himself. Not all the time. But some of the time.

  Charlyce rolled her eyes, and James grunted quietly and shook his head. Seeing wasn’t believing for dumbasses. The Harriken had proven that, and he’d been forced to destroy them.

  He’d heard enough of this crap. The old lady could defend her own honor, but Lachlan needed to be put in his place before he went and spread this bullshit attitude to the other former gang members. It was time to use a little phrase that Staff Sergeant Royce seemed fond of.

  “Lachlan,” James rumbled. “We need to have a little talk, and it’s gonna be one way.”

  Lachlan flew through the ai
r, flailing his arms until he smashed into the front yard with a grunt and rolled several feet.

  Guess that was more of a demonstration than a talk.

  James stuck the man’s gun in his waistband as he stepped through the front door. “For a guy who didn’t need his gun, you sure went for it fast, asshole.”

  The younger man groaned. “Fuck you, Brownstone.”

  “Good, you’ve still got some backbone. That means Royce can turn you into something other than a piece of shit who yells at old ladies.” James marched over to the downed man and grabbed him by the neck. “So I’m gonna give you the opportunity to be something else.”

  James stomped over to the F-350, Lachlan in hand. He threw open the back door and tossed the dazed wannabe gang kingpin in the back.

  Lachlan moaned.

  The bounty hunter chuckled. “Don’t complain. I’m still a lot nicer than Royce.”

  Shay swiped through the messages on her phone. Peyton had lined up some potential jobs, and if James didn’t want to keep playing doctor, it was as good a time as any for her to go find out about the latest insane artifact someone wanted her to collect.

  Someday I’m gonna have to tell James the truth about all the alien shit I know, but after that speech earlier there’s no way. Need to protect him from himself.

  Shay’s phone rang and she answered, seeing that the call was from James.

  “Regret leaving me already?” Shay purred. “You can always come back and correct the mistake. I’m still in town…for now.”

  James grunted. “I’d much rather be at my house doing shit with you than playing truant officer with some punk kid with delusions of grandeur so bad that he makes Kings Pyro look humble.”

  All of Shay’s passion drained from her. “Truant officer? What are you talking about?”

  “One of the boys who quit Trey’s gang was harassing his Nana, going on about how he was gonna kick my ass and take over the gang and be the badass of the neighborhood. Shit like that.”

  Shay laughed. “I’m guessing that ended real well for him. Don’t these dumbasses ever learn?”

  James grunted. “He’s just a punk kid so I didn’t send him through a wall, even though I was tempted. Plus, it’d be a dick move against Trey’s grandmother since I was in her house.”

  “But I’m guessing there was still some violence involved?”

  “I just helped him move from one point to another real fast.”

  Shay snickered. “And what happened after that?”

  “I’ve got him in my truck now, and I’m taking him to the Brownstone Building for a little ‘Marine re-education.’”

  “The fun’s definitely over then.” She sighed. “No way in hell you’re coming back this morning, is there?”

  “Sorry,” James rumbled. “But I’ll make it up to you. How about we have a date night before you head out again? You said you weren’t leaving right away.”

  She resisted the urge to tell him that she might end up getting a job that required just that. The last thing she wanted to do was guilt-trip the man and get clingy.

  Shay pondered the original offer. “Sure, but this time I don’t want to go anywhere fancy.”

  “You don’t?” James chuckled. “Fine by me. You’re the one who is obsessed with us going to fancy places. It’s not like I love having to go to a place that requires different types of forks. Why the change?”

  “It’s hard to get blood out of a lot of fabrics, and I want to make sure if any assholes show up, I’m able to join in the fun and not just leave you to have all of it.”

  “Okay, I’ll think of something. One sec.” She could hear James speaking over the phone, but his voice was distant and muffled. Scratching filled the line before he came back. “Sorry, just needed to explain some shit to Lachlan. I’ll think of someplace appropriate for our date. Talk to you later.”

  “Talk to you later.”

  James ended the call.

  Shay sighed and surveyed the disaster that was the bedroom. Her clothes were strewn all around the floor, and the sheets were more than a little used after their epic three-day romp. They’d barely left the room other than to eat.

  She was surprised James hadn’t freaked out more about the mess, but she’d done a damned good job of distracting him with her body. Now that the pleasure marathon was over, OCD James was sure to return.

  Shay gathered her clothes from the floor. If she cleaned up and washed the sheets, it’d elevate James’ mood after he finished smacking around his employee. It was the little things.

  Managing with only Peyton is easy. I got all the death threats out of the way early on. Then again, James doesn’t have to deal with shit like that gnome, so maybe we’re even.

  The tomb raider leaned over and hissed at an ache shooting through her body. The days of fun had taken a toll on her. She wasn’t usually this sore unless she got in a fight or fell from a mountain. It also pissed her off that James was feeling well enough to go manhandle some gang member.

  “That asshole is still walking around like he’s some sort of Superman…” Shay gasped. “Shit. I didn’t think about it before.”

  Like Superman, James was an alien from another planet, most likely sent by his parents. Also, like Superman, James was stronger than the average human, even without his amulet. Finally like Superman, James had been raised by good people with a strong moral center and had internalized the desire to fight evil, even if he’d tried to hide it behind bullshit defenses about being nothing more than a bounty hunter.

  Shay snickered. It was a good thing James hadn’t ended up being adopted by her parents. If so, New York would have been a burnt-out crater already.

  “Wait. If he’s Superman, that means I’m fucking Superman! Who does that make me, Lois Lane?”

  The tomb raider snorted and grabbed her bra off the ground.

  3

  Trey stared at the huge mud pit and shook his head. Even though he’d been told about it before, he still wasn’t crazy about the idea. Fighting a group of men didn’t bother him, but rolling around in the mud just didn’t appeal.

  Every day when he got up he slapped on a suit like he was going to an office—only his office was the streets of Los Angeles. The suit projected respectability and filled him with confidence. The idea of rolling around in the mud like some drunken pig only filled him with the urge to rebel.

  Shit. I’m gonna have to set an example for my boys. No way to get out of this bullshit.

  “Listen up, men,” Staff Sergeant Royce shouted.

  “Yes, Staff Sergeant,” the assembled trainees yelled in unison.

  Trey, James, and Chris Royce had discussed whether to make use of his old rank when he started training the gang members. They concluded that it’d help reinforce discipline during the training process.

  The ex-gangbangers didn’t respect most authority figures, but almost to a man they respected the military—and the Marine Corps in particular. He wouldn’t wear his uniform because he was retired, but the title still carried weight with them.

  “You’ve come a long way from the lazy-ass undisciplined pieces of shit you were when I started with you,” the drill instructor continued. “But you’ve still got a long fucking way to go. It is fortunate that I don’t have to turn your weak asses into Marines, just bounty hunters, so there’s some tiny hope for you yet.” He pointed to the pit. “Part of not being a puppy pretending to be a man is commanding respect in difficult environments. At the end of the week, we’re going to find out who is the King of the Pit. Everyone’s going to get involved on two teams.”

  Trey was distracted by a movement off to the side. A foul-faced Lachlan marched out of the back of the Brownstone Building, the big man himself behind him. James looked more bored than annoyed.

  Lachlan had left the gang recently, and Trey wasn’t surprised to see he’d run into trouble with James. He’d expected to have to confront the asshole sooner or later.

  A sudden thought had the former gang leade
r grimacing. “Shit, James,” Trey began. “Please tell me that this stupid motherfucker wasn’t at Nana’s house. Please tell me he was just walking down the street and flipped your ass off or something.”

  The gathered men laughed.

  James pushed Lachlan forward. “He was having an argument with your grandmother. I had to remove him for his own safety before she beat his ass down.”

  Lachlan scoffed. “I don’t need no protection from some old bi—”

  James spun Lachlan around and glared at him. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking that me making a few jokes means I’m gonna stand here and let you disrespect that woman. You understand me, asshole?”

  Lachlan glared back. “Fuck you, Brownstone.”

  Royce stepped forward with a deep scowl on his face, more than ready to go all Full Metal Jacket on the wayward gang member.

  Trey shook his head and held up a hand. Lachlan was younger and had always been trouble. Trey led the gang, so the gang members—former or current—were his responsibility.

  He waved Royce down. “I got this,” he told him, meeting Lachlan’s eyes as he marched toward him.

  James grunted and shoved the man toward his former gang leader.

  Trey loomed over Lachlan. “You think you got something to prove, bitch?”

  Lachlan sneered. “No. I think you do. You fucking gave up. You’re nothing but Brownstone’s bitch, so I’m taking over the gang. Once I do, everyone in his neighborhood will know who the real bitch is.”

  Everyone laughed, except for James and Royce.

  “Yeah, ‘Lachlan, King of the Streets,’” a man jeered. “Fuck it, why not King of Los Angeles? Next thing you know, it’ll be like, ‘Oh shit, Mr. President, I’m sorry, sir.’”

  “Maybe he should start a new Harriken,” another man called. “Then Brownstone can kill their asses, too.”

  Trey held up his hand, and everyone quieted down. “You’re gonna lead the gang, Lachlan? No one’s gonna follow you, bitch. A fucking stray dog you gave a steak to wouldn’t follow you. You’ve never been the brightest guy, but now you’re just being a dumbass.”