Power Mage by Hondo Jinx

Author:Hondo Jinx [Jinx, Hondo]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-04-08T22:00:00+00:00

12

Brawley sat on the U-shaped sofa in his RV, examining the firearms. Nina lay beside him, fighting sleep. She’d been struggling to stay awake ever since they reached the RV and lifted the moped inside.

That had been a bitch and a half. Her cute little scooter weighed three hundred pounds if it weighed an ounce.

But they couldn’t afford to leave the thing out in the open for all the world to see. With a pile of corpses laying in Nina’s driveway, Brawley had to assume that the cops were looking for her. And if they had talked to anyone who knew Nina, they were hunting her highly recognizable moped, too.

The strange thing about that, however, was what they were saying on TV. The 32” wall mount across from them was tuned to a local station, where special reports kept interrupting regular programming with breaking news updates that all seemed to say the same thing.

Authorities on the scene. Five dead. Two of the victims identified as having gang ties in Boca Raton.

Stuff Brawley would’ve expected.

Some of the other things they kept repeating, however, were a little surprising.

Authorities suspected a drug deal gone bad. None of the neighborhood’s residents had been harmed or were being considered suspects.

Why would they say that? Was it the truth as far as the cops were concerned? Or was this some sort of trap to lull Nina into a false sense of security?

Brawley ejected the Smith & Wesson’s magazine and racked the slide, clearing the chamber. Setting the pistol on the dinette table, he thumbed rounds out of the magazine, counting them up on the table before him. Seven. Eight, counting the hollow-point at his feet.

“Holy shit,” Nina said drowsily. “I can’t believe that actually happened.”

The shootout had rattled her cage pretty hard.

Brawley, on the other hand, felt strangely calm. He’d always figured if he ended up killing somebody, it would weigh on him. Not so much. Not at all, in fact. They had tried to kill his woman, and he had responded logically, decisively, and without mercy.

Now those assholes were dead. End of story. No sense feeling bad about it.

Not that Nina was expressing remorse. She was just worried about the ramifications. And that made sense, even if he didn’t share her anxieties.

Part of that was this psionic bullshit that had overtaken him. He felt strong. Strong and sharp and ready to roll. Dominant as fuck, if he was honest about it.

But part of his calm was just Brawley being Brawley. You spend your life climbing onto the world’s rankest bulls, ignoring broken bones and torn ligaments, you didn’t startle easy.

At the same time, he knew this was a real problem. So while he wasn’t worried, he was serious.

“Well, you’d better believe it, darlin,” he said, “because it did happen. We can’t afford to pretend it didn’t.”

He picked up the last cartridge, wiped it clean, and fed it back into the magazine. Then he replaced the magazine, set the Smith & Wesson on the cushion beside him, and turned his attention to the machine pistol.

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