Burned (12 page)

“Until this guy named Sal shows up,” I said without thinking about it as I racked the balls.

“You mean Big Sal?” Chris’s eyes locked on me. All the humor was gone from his face. “Um, he’s not usually someone people want to meet.”

“Neither am I,” I said, and then because I was a complete dumbass, I bent to pick up my beer. As I did, Chris lunged forward, seizing my right wrist and slamming it hard against the pool table.

“You’re the Cursed who killed Van,” Chris said, a touch of awe in his voice.

“Yeah, what of it?” I growled. His grip on my arm was so tight, I could feel my fingers start to go numb. It didn’t seem like he wanted to hurt me, but either way, if he didn’t let go soon, I was going to hurt him.

He let me go and was on the other side of the pool table before I could blink. “Are you here to take out Sal?” The amount of hope in his voice shook me out of the confusion at what had just happened.

“Yes,” I said, wringing out my hand. I wasn’t sure what he was, but there was no way it was human. Even Usain Bolt didn’t move that fast. In fact, even Ricky hadn’t moved that fast. I’d only seen one person ever move like that. Jack. And Jack was a vampire.

“Thank God,” Chris said and visible relief settled over him. “He’s a huge prick.”

“Is that so?” I asked, trying to figure out if I believed him. Most of me was leaning toward no, but then again, I wasn’t very trusting. Either way, I wasn’t going to give him another opening like that. I reached out very slowly and grabbed the pool cue, intending to drive it through his heart if he tried anything. He watched me do it but didn’t react.

“Um, yeah. It’s not exactly super enjoyable swinging my thing around for everyone to see and then giving him half my take, but just like everyone else, I have to do what Sal says.” He leaned back against the wall and sipped his beer. “And you know, I’m greedy. If I could keep my earnings instead of giving half to that dirt bag, it wouldn’t upset me.”

“Wait,” I said as a sudden realization settled over me. “Is everyone in here like you?”

“No, not everyone is a vampire,” Chris replied, watching me for a reaction. I must have satisfied his curiosity because he continued. “Some are weres and other things. Calvin is a wereleopard. Hence the thong.” He sighed. “It’s a bit ostentatious, but we all have our fetishes.” He gestured at himself as if to say, “I present exhibit A.”

“I didn’t even know wereleopards were a thing,” I said right before hurricane force winds blew the door to the tiny room off its hinges and sent it careening into the wall behind me.

Chapter 18

I scrambled to my feet, using the pool table for cover against the gale force winds whipping pool balls through the converted office like bullets. The smell of sulfur filled my nose as I ducked beneath the eight ball, allowing it to punch a hole in the drywall behind me instead of my skull. Clutching my cue stick in a death grip, I waited for a lull in the storm and darted toward the exit. I had no idea what was going on, but I was going to find out and kick its ass for being so rude.

Another burst of wind ripped through the space before I was quite clear, peppering me with debris. I threw my arm up, calling on my power to help ward off the effects of the wind even though I wasn’t even sure that was a thing I could do. As my tattoos burst to life, the wind veered around me. Well, that was unexpected.

Chris was laid out on the floor behind the pool table, his eyes glassy and far off. Only he didn’t look so much like Chris Hemsworth anymore. Instead, he looked paler and significantly less muscular. There were still similarities but not nearly as many as before. Had he been using vampire magic to look like Chris Hemsworth? If so, I needed to get ahold of that action, you know, for purely artistic reasons. I’d make an awesome Thor.

I shook off the thought and sprinted out of the room while doing my best to block the debris from my face. As soon as I burst into the strip club’s main room, my mouth fell open in shock. Dynamite would have been kinder to the surroundings. Splintered chunks of tables and chairs skewered the walls. Half the lights overhead were shattered, filling the floor with bits of jagged glass.

Rob, the other bartender, was pinned to the shelf behind the bar with a broken table leg. His eyes were wide in shock as black blood dripped from the wooden stake puncturing his chest. Unlike Chris, he still sort of looked like Robert Downey Jr, but then again, he was conscious, so there was that. I wasn’t sure if he was a vampire or some kind of other supernatural creature, but either way, he was on his own because I didn’t have time to deal with him.

Danton stood in the center of the room, gritting his teeth and bracing himself in front of half a dozen bruised and bleeding sorority girls. Both patrons and strippers alike cowered around the room in a desperate attempt to hide from the hurricane swirling in front of the demon hunter. A soft white glow surrounded his body as he stretched one hand toward the whirling winds. Blood dripped from his ears as he took a step forward, pushing back the gale.

That Frankenstein looking motherfucker who had beaten me senseless in my vision along with a shorter guy who reminded me of a chimpanzee wearing a three piece suit surged toward the demon hunter, apparently unconcerned by the in-room hurricane. If they reached him, it would be over because there was no way Danton could hold back the wind and take on two cronies.

Sal, the Cursed I’d been after, stood just behind them with gray sulfurous smoke rising off of his blackened arm in coils. His right arm glowed with harsh light, and as he flicked his wrist, another surge of wind ripped from his fingers and slammed into Danton, driving the demon hunter backward across the floor. Well, that made things easy. If I took out Sal, the wind would stop. I could do that.

As I reared back and hurled the cue stick with all my might, a cry of pain exploded from Danton’s lips. He fell to one knee, clutching his chest with one hand like a heart attack victim. I took a step toward him, unsure of what to do, but wanting to help him anyway.

My cue stick struck Sal in the side of his bulbous head like a javelin. A resounding crack echoed through the room. Sal slumped sideways completely boneless, and the wind in the room died. Well, that worked out much better than I’d expected. Now to take out the other two before they mopped the floor with Danton.

“Remember me?” I cried, sprinting across the room as my own tattoos exploded into bright crimson light. My fiery fist slammed into Frankenstein as he turned toward me. The blow caught the big man in the center of the chest with enough force to throw him backward off his feet. He smashed into the far wall, breaking through the drywall.

Before I could appropriately taunt the man who had stolen my nephew and left me laid out on the floor like a gasping fish, the chimp hit me in the side, smashing me with both fists in a hammer blow that knocked the breath from my lungs. I wobbled sideways as his foot came up in a roundhouse kick I expertly caught with my chin. Stars shot past my eyes as I crashed backward onto the dark floor. Fucking kung fu monkeys.

“Why if it isn’t Mac Brennan. I’ve heard a lot about you,” the chimp said, grabbing me by the hair. He hauled me to my feet by my demonic arm in one lithe moment and spun, wrenching my arm up behind my back. He shifted, spinning around before I could do more than cry out in pain. A bolt of lightning exploded from Danton’s outstretched hand and struck me full in the chest. My teeth snapped together, and my muscles seized as electricity coursed through my veins.

“Mac!” Danton called, but everything was so blurry I was having trouble seeing clearly. “I’m sorry.”

The strange thing was, I couldn’t figure out why he was apologizing. Then again, I was having trouble concentrating on much of anything. I reached out, grabbing feebly at the chimp with my free hand moments before monkey boy slammed a fist into my ribs and shoved me forward. My body smashed into Danton, knocking the demon hunter off his feet as Frankenstein got back up and shook himself like a giant, shaggy dog.

“You’re a lot less impressive than I thought,” the chimp said, pulling a 9mm Beretta from beneath his jacket and leveling it at us. “Then again, most people are.”

The sound of a gunshot exploded through the room, and it took me a minute to realize I wasn’t the one who had been shot. The ape looked down at his torso, and touched the dripping red wound with one hand before slumping forward to his knees and toppling to the ground.

I barely had time to register the sight of the huge black man in his teeny tiny leopard thong standing behind the bar and cocking a pump action shotgun. He leveled it at Frankenstein. The blast caught the big man full in the face, but seemed to do little more than stagger the giant.

“I hope ya’ll have a plan,” the wereleopard said as he racked another shell and fired. It had even less effect than the first shot. “Because my silver ammo doesn’t seem to be having the desired effect on Frankie.”

“Yeah,” Danton said, pushing me off to the side and clambering to his feet. “I got this.”

A silver cross on a long chain slipped into his hand, and as it did, bright silver light filled the entire room like a flashbang. I shielded my eyes and looked away so I wouldn’t go blind as Frankenstein turned to regard Danton like a curious bug.

“Demon hunter,” the big man said in a voice like a waterfall rushing over an abyss. “Your skin will make a fine lamp.”

“Well, that’s very Nazi of you,” Danton replied, squaring himself on the ground and whipping the cross around like a flaming morningstar. “Still adhering to the party line, I see.”

The big man’s lips curled into a cruel smile, and he came lumbering closer. While Frankie’s attention was completely focused on Danton, Sal was starting to stir. Evidently, he could shrug off a cue stick to the head just fine. That was no good. I couldn’t let him get back into the fight. If I did, there was no telling what kind of demonic voodoo he could pull off. No, I had to hit him hard and fast.

I lurched to my feet, and stumbled toward the other Cursed even though my ribs ground together inside me like broken glass. As Sal got to his hands and knees, I straight up soccer kicked him in the face. The toe of my steel-toe boot smashed his nose into a cloud of red. The fat man flopped onto his back and stared skyward with a dazed look in his eyes. The light from his tattoos faded as I flopped on top of him with all my weight and wrapped my black as pitch hand around his damned throat.

“Do you remember me?” I asked, pinning his demonic arm under one knee and leaning down until we were eye to eye. Instead of responding, Sal’s eyes bugged out of his skull, and he slapped weakly at me with his free hand. “Answer me!” Rage exploded through me as I shook him as hard as I could. “Why are you not responding?”

“I don’t think he can breathe,” the wereleopard said from behind me. He had the shotgun pointed at Sal, which made me feel a bit better about my situation. Then again, I’d shot a Cursed before, and he’d turned out to be remarkably resilient. Even if he did shoot Sal, maybe the shotgun wouldn’t hurt him much. No, the safer play was choking him into unconsciousness, chopping off his arm, and tying him up. Grisly, sure, but effective.

As Sal’s skin took on a blue tinge, Frankenstein shrieked in pain. I turned my head to see the big man reeling backward, his chest torn open and black ichor spilling across the floor. Danton had a stupidly satisfied grin on his face as the cross whipped around him, leaving a trail of white flame in its wake. Well, at least I wouldn’t need to worry about Frankenstein.

“What’s the matter big guy?” Danton called, mockery in his voice. “Is my light too much for you to handle? This lamp doesn’t come with a dimmer switch.” He swung again, and the burning metal cross struck Frankenstein’s blocking arm with a sound like a thousand roaring fires. Black ichor burst from the monster’s flesh as he staggered backward, grabbing at the wound with his other hand.

“What did you do with my family?” I asked, turning back to Sal. As I said the words, my arm grew ten times brighter, filling the tiny room with Hellish star fire. “Answer me before I start breaking things you’ll want to keep in one piece.”

“I don’t have them,” Sal wheezed, even though I was sure he couldn’t breathe. As he said the words, I leapt to my feet before I could stop myself and started kicking him in the ribs. My own insides shrieked in pain, but I ignored it, pressing it down under the fury of my rage.

“Not good enough!” I cried, grabbing him by his grease ball hair and slamming him into the concrete floor. “Tell me where they are.”

“I can’t!” Sal gasped, and as he did, I hauled him to his feet. I began dragging him toward the exit. I was sure the police were on their way, but right now I didn’t care. I needed answers, and I was getting them. If that landed me in jail, so be it.

“I need your shotgun,” I said, glancing at the wereleopard. The man took one look at me before tossing me the weapon.

“Good luck,” he said, looking me over with blazing yellow cat eyes.

“I won’t need luck. I have a shotgun,” I said, kicking open the door and dragging Sal out into the rain so I could force him to talk without a couple dozen witnesses watching me. With what I had in mind, I didn’t want one of them trying to stop me.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” the wereleopard replied as the door swung shut.

Chapter 19

As I stepped out into the rain swept street in front of the Brass Monkey strip club, I noticed the same black car from my vision. It was running, and a man sat in the driver’s seat, smoking one of those electronic vaporizers. As he blew one long stream of vapor through the open window, I leveled the shotgun at him and pulled the trigger. The sound of the gunshot exploded across the nearly empty parking lot, nearly deafening even in the pouring rain.

The silver buckshot splintered the windshield and threw the driver backward in his seat. Silver fire flared from his chest, and the smell of cooking meat filled my nostrils. So he must have been some kind of werecreature, good thing I started with a bang.

I pumped the shotgun with one hand and put another blast into the guy’s chest before he could even think about recovering. Satisfied because I could see the buckshot-riddled seat through his body, I turned my attention to Sal. “How about you and I take a little trip?”