Bounty Hunter Inc_An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure Page 4

  Leira raised an eyebrow as she walked up to the stand. Apparently, the term “bounty hunter” was now her permanent job title. She sighed and sat down, figuring she might as well embrace it. There was no time to squabble over such small things.

  Senator Trumbull stared at her, glad to finally get a good look. Berens was a pain in Trumbull’s side. Leira glanced at Pearson, recognizing him, and her eyes drifted to the small tattoo of entwined Silver Griffins on his wrist. She’d known he was a wizard and that he had once worked for the Silver Griffins, but she wasn’t about to give him away. He was an ally—or at least he had been—and she wanted to keep it that way.

  “Ms. Berens,” the speaker began. “We would first like you to testify, because of the growing concern of this council and the public, on the battles occurring out in the open over magical artifacts, as well as the skirmishes between different magical factions.”

  There was a low hum of conversation from the gallery, and it pleased Trumbull. He was starting to learn who was fearful and who wasn’t and was thrilled at the number of people who were worked up about those so-called shifters and wizards with wands.

  Leira gave a crooked smile. “There’s nothing to fear from most magical beings. They are just like us, working to provide for their families and trying to find a better life. But yes, there are criminals among them, just like in the human population. That is why I am here and why my position was created—to get them off the street. That said, there is no reason to start a literal witch hunt for the good people. Some of whom, I might add, have served the government here on Earth for generations. For what reason? Fear-mongering?”

  “One of the problems is we can’t tell the so-called good from the bad. They all have a much greater capability than the humans to do evil.” The senator from Rhode Island was passionate about this and more outspoken than usual for a council meeting.

  The truth of the matter was, no one in that room was truly convinced.

  Once the hearing had concluded and everyone had trickled out, Pearson stepped around the corner to find Leira waiting for him. The two made eye contact and walked down the hall, slipping around the corner away from prying eyes. Leira shook his hand and let out a sigh. She was disappointed in the responses she’d received.

  “Thank you for defending the Silver Griffins even though the vault fell. I am as worried as the rest of the politicians in there, but for much larger reasons. Everything is getting off to a terrible start, and I am concerned we may not come to a peaceful resolution.”

  “Times are changing,” Leira agreed. “And with that, of course, there is cause for worry, but the problem that we see here is that no one has sufficient knowledge of the magical community. They are being blinded by fear.”

  “I know. People do very strange things when they are afraid, especially those who have the power to make core decisions. That is why a peaceful resolution is so important.”

  Leira touched his hand. “If it’s the last good thing we do, we’ll find one.”

  5

  Lucius smiled as he watched the shifters change, rough-house, and roll around in the field. He took off his clothes and closed his eyes, letting the change come over him. It felt good to run wild. To let their inner wolves run free with no fear of being caught or having someone put them down for it. They had been busy working on the sanctuary, and this was the first time they had been able to just relax and enjoy themselves since they had arrived.

  It was quite a sight to see. Especially for Lucius, who was witnessing the world through new eyes as a shifter, and free from the World in Between. Some wolves’ lives had spanned generations, and some were basically teenagers. Some of them were shifters by birth, from a line of succession that dated back to before the gates were open. Others had been changed by the dark wizarding families, who used an old forbidden spell in an attempt to build armies. They, however, understood little about the shifters. They weren’t robots to be commanded, and didn’t just accept a leader because of fear.

  The wolves played and ran as a pack, reveling in the freedom and unaware of danger just inside the confines of the forest.

  Members of Humans First had snuck onto the property, tipped off by a local real estate developer who was friends with Senator Trumbull. They wanted pictures, ones that would prove the shifters’ existence and enable them to spread word of shifters living in the open. They wanted to wake up the public and show them the dangers that could be lurking in the house next door. The plan was well thought out, but not well enough, considering the identity of the pack’s alpha.

  Lucius howled with the rest of the pack, sending positive vibes toward the bright full moon overhead. He was panting and watching the others play when a breeze blew past him carrying an unfamiliar scent. His brow furrowed as he inhaled deeper, realizing the scent was humans on his land. Immediately, he stood on his hind legs and let out a deep warning howl that froze everyone in their place.

  There are intruders here. Humans. Sniff them out. If you cannot chase them off, bring one back to me. I want to get to the bottom of this.

  The wolves tore through the fields in the direction of the scent, determined to hunt down whoever had come on their land.

  The three humans climbed over a fallen tree, unaware that they had been detected. The man in the middle had a camera around his neck, while the other two held shotguns for protection.

  “I think the housing is up on the hill,” the one with the camera said. “I am hoping to get them in a change. It is a full moon, after all. That’s how this works, right?”

  “I think they can change at any time, actually,” one of the others replied.

  The third man stood tall, holding his gun close to him. He pulled his camo baseball cap farther down on his head and spit to the side. He didn’t want to be there. He thought it was reckless, but couldn’t deny the importance of letting the public know what was happening.

  “We want this to be in-and-out, you hear?”

  “Yeah, yeah.” The photographer groaned. “We’ll get it done and get out of here in time for a beer.”

  The other guy froze, his hand slightly shaking on his gun. The two men looked at him and stopped as well.

  “What is it?”

  “Shhh! Didn’t you hear that angry howl?”

  His next step crunched dead leaves underfoot. He paused for a moment, squinting into the woods where the moon cast rays of light through the canopy. As he stared into the dark yellow eyes began to appear, one after another, until there were hundreds.

  “Shit! RUN!”

  The men turned and ran to their cars, which were parked just outside the boundary. The wolves chased them, bounding over fallen trees and logs, saliva dripping from their sharp pointed teeth. They were faster than the humans and quickly closed in, nipping at their heels as they ran.

  The man with the camo hat slowed and pivoted to bring his shotgun around, and pulled the trigger. A wolf not far behind whimpered, rolling to a stop. Blood soaked his fur as he growled and whined. The man smiled and darted for the car.

  Lucius gained on the pack and zeroed in on the fallen. He was a friend, a father of two boys who lived in the suburbs with his wife. They had only come out there to run. The shifter’s body morphed back into its human form, and Lucius nodded at the pack assembling around them.

  You four, go after them. The rest of you, go back to camp and bring the off-road vehicle. We need to get this man to the hospital. I’ll stay here with him.

  Four of the wolves pursued the men while the others rushed back to the houses. The humans were almost to their cars when the wolves reached the perimeter. One of the older shifters growled, leaping from one side of the ditch to the other, and grabbed the photographer by the leg. The photographer punched the wolf until it let go, quickly pulled his leg in, and slammed the door shut. He screamed in pain before racing away. A chunk of his leg was missing, fortunately not the one he drove with. As he sped off he looked at the shooter, who had a smile on his face.

&
nbsp; “What are you smiling about? I have a chunk out of my leg!”

  “The power of technology, my friend,” he said, holding up a video on his phone. “I recorded the whole thing.”

  Back in the woods, Lucius shifted into his human form and grabbed the injured one’s hand. He looked up at Lucius, wincing in pain as blood trickled from the side of his mouth.

  “We will take care of you, friend. Don’t you worry.”

  He looked up as the vehicle crashed through the forest. Three of the shifters, who were back in their human form, pulled a stretcher from the back. They loaded up the injured shifter and looked at Lucius.

  “Go on, get him help. We will worry about this threat later,” Lucius ordered. “I will be up after I re-secure our borders.”

  Lucius watched as they pulled off, the four shifters from the chase running after them. When they were out of sight, Lucius pulled up his sleeves and walked to the road’s edge, where the gravel was bloodied from the photographer’s wounds. He looked up at the air surrounding the perimeter and felt the break in the security spells.

  Something had ripped away the security magic he had put in place. Either that or someone with enough power to find them had set them up. He would need to put a better glamour in place, something that not only would ward away anyone who might try to come in, but also stop anyone who might try to remove it. The way they moved through the woods, had come armed, and ran as soon as they saw the wolves made him think it was a setup. At that time of night, there was no reason for three grown men to wander through the woods. He fisted his hands and growled. He would make sure it was the last time something like that happened.

  Leira rolled over in the bed and put her hands down to her sides. She groaned as she tried to lift herself since the muscles in her arms and sides were tense and sore. Her leg, now fully healed by the artifact, still stung, and she could feel the residual pain from jumping off the high-rise. Finally, she got herself upright.

  Correk sat up beside her, noticing her stiff movements.

  “You look like you were hit by a bus. What happened?”

  “Nothing.” She smiled. “Just need to keep up at the gym. My last call had me busting a move, and my muscles aren’t very happy with it.”

  “We should get a dog.”

  “We have a troll,” she pointed out.

  “Yeah, but he’s all grown up and going out on his own. I don’t even know where he is half the time, and he’s making his own friends.”

  Leira glanced over her shoulder with a smirk. “He’s not really our kid, you know.”

  “We should have one of those.”

  Leira laughed and turned toward him. “We should have one of those when people stop trying to kill us.”

  He leaned forward and kissed her nose. “Then we may never get the chance.” He bounced off the bed, causing her to wince as her body tensed. “Wait here.”

  “I don’t think that will be a problem.” Leira smiled as he walked out of the room.

  She looked at the door for a moment and uncovered her leg. There was a light scar, almost like sleep imprint from the sheet. It was tender to the touch, but nothing like the pain of the initial wound. She knew that using the artifact was probably not the best choice, but she did what she had to. She covered her leg as Correk walked back in with a cup of coffee. He handed it to her, and she smiled, thankful that he was there.

  “Thank you.”

  “We should talk about a life plan,” he said, sitting down next to her.

  She chuckled taking a sip of hot coffee. “You finally ate one too many Cheetos. Your brain is turning to orange dust. I didn’t think elves made long-range plans. What would that look like? A thousand-year plan?”

  “Ehhhh, more like eight hundred years at this point, give or take.” He winked and nudged her with his shoulder. “No, we usually plan in chunks of fifty years.”

  Leira and Correk looked up, hearing the snap of a portal upstairs. Correk clapped his hands and jumped up from the bed. “Yumfuck’s home.”

  “Saved by the troll.”

  “Come on, let’s go see the furry guy.”

  Leira lifted an eyebrow with a smirk and took Correk’s hand, groaning as he pulled her to her feet. They headed upstairs to check on Yumfuck, but by the time they got to his room he was already curled up asleep on his bed, still wearing his cowboy boots. Leira chuckled as Correk carefully pulled his boots off and covered him.

  “Wonder where he’s been,” Leira mused, looking down at him. She had to admit, he was absolutely adorable when he slept. She loved the little guy, but he was all she was capable of taking care of at that point. Her priority was keeping the world safe.

  “Can’t be that far, right?” Correk asked as they switched off the light and closed the door. “What are your plans for the morning?”

  “I am going to go work out, so I don’t continue to have mornings where I feel like a geriatric patient.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll hopefully see you when you get back.”

  Leira kissed him on the cheek and smiled. That day was actually starting out on a very positive note.

  After a quick shower, Leira headed to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. On the fridge was a note from Correk explaining that he’d run out to the grocery store because he needed more Cheetos. Leira laughed, knowing that when she got back she would find a kitchen full of food—mostly processed, and probably a very stuffed troll and elf. As she walked past the table, she noticed a postcard from her grandmother in Charlottesville on top of the pile of mail.

  Leira,

  I hope you are doing well. The school is getting ready to open up in the fall. Hopefully, you will be able to make a trip soon and visit.

  Give Correk and Yumfuck my love, and love you much,

  Grandma Mira

  Leira tapped her finger on the postcard, closed her eyes, and sent a burst of energy to her grandmother. She smiled, feeling the return warmth before heading out. As soon as she made it down the front stairs, she took off running. She ran the entire six miles to the old mansion that belonged to Turner Underwood, bobbing and weaving through the foot traffic, and taking shortcuts to avoid the road traffic.

  It was empty, as usual, when she arrived. She put herself through a series of agility and strength elements, running and jumping around the large high-ceilinged room. She bolted forward, jumped high, and grabbed the rope in the center of the room. She pushed back and forth, swinging higher and higher before she flipped off backward and landed on her feet. She cringed slightly and rubbed her leg before tackling the fifteen-foot-high rock wall with no harness. She situated her feet on the small holds and climbed. When she reached the top she turned, looking up at a tightrope firmly stretched between the beams.

  She leaped, grabbing the rope and grunting as she lifted herself up, carefully placing her feet on the thin tight rope. She balanced herself, pulling from her inner light to make it to the other side. When she reached the platform, she put her hands on her knees and took a moment to catch her breath before climbing down the ladder. In a backroom was a tennis court with a ball machine on one side. She flipped the switch and watched the tennis balls fly, bouncing against the opposite wall.

  She ran over and began a succession of defensive movements, dodging the balls as they whipped through the air. She dove and rolled over and over until all the balls had been pitched. Leira looked at the tennis-ball-covered floor and chuckled to herself as she began to pick them all up.

  “Didn’t think about this part. Then again...”

  She dropped the balls, and they bounced across the ground as she pulled light from her chest. She swirled her hands, creating a ball of light in her palms. Leira tossed it back and forth in her hands, looking at the court.

  All the balls.

  She released the orb and watched as it morphed into a magical net of light, scooping the balls up before floating over to the machine. She walked over, looked into the net, and slowly waved her hand over the container. The bal
ls poured out, and the magical net disappeared with a flick of her wrist. She nodded, impressed with her work, and headed back to the gym.

  It was time to work with weights, but the idea of dumbbells bored her. She put her hands on her hips and looked around the room for an alternative. She smiled when she spotted the truck tires in the back. After lining them up in a row, she shook out her hands and stretched her legs. She set the stopwatch on her phone and put it back in her pocket, then bent down. At the beep she bolted forward, grunting deeply as she lifted a tire and flipped it over. She moved from tire to tire. The last was the hardest. Her face turned bright red as she got it on its side and pushed it to the ground. It bounced a bit, then settled into place.

  She grimaced as a twinge of pain shot through her leg. The wound was nothing more than a small red line now and she shook her head, impressed by the power of the artifact. Leira started to flip the tires again, thinking about keeping the watch for future use. She sighed as she flipped the last tire, knowing there was no way she could do that. A deal was a deal. But still, the idea of having something to save her ass like that in a pinch was more than tempting.

  She shook the thought from her mind, headed over to the stationary bikes, and climbed on one. She set it to the hardest level and began to pedal, pushing her body past the burn. Sweat poured from her as she tried to shake thoughts of the watch and battles from her mind and focus on getting stronger and better. She knew the day was coming soon when all this would pay off.

  6

  The Professor sat back in the booth in the back of his favorite diner. He picked up his pint and took a sip, looking at Correk. The elf had finally given in to the smell of cheeseburgers and fries and took a huge bite of the sandwich in front of him. Grease dribbled down his chin, and the Professor threw back his head with a laugh.