The Supernatural Bounty Hunter Files: Special Edition Fantasy Bundle, Books 6 thru 10 (Smoke Special Edition Book 2) by Craig Halloran

Author:Craig Halloran [Halloran, Craig]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2017-05-02T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 24

The huge teenager stood between the truck and the gate. He stooped, staring right at the windshield, small eyes squinting.

Manson rolled down his window.

The guard climbed up on the semi-truck’s doorstep. His eyes popped open when he met Manson’s in A.V. form.

“Special delivery,” Manson said. “And don’t ever get in my face again.”

The flat-nosed guard held his ground. “Who’s the girl? I don’t recognize her.”

“She’s the delivery, fool!” Manson shoved the man off the side of his truck. The guard fell on the ground, popped up, and with a nasty glance over his shoulder at Manson, he headed over to Lance.

Manson said to Sid, “You seem to recognize that big fella. Got a name?”

“Lance. We crossed with him a little ways back at Titus Tolliver’s mortuary. I’m a bit surprised he’s here. He’s a loner.”

“A shifter that big has nowhere else to go. Hmm, I wonder if he knows A.V.”

Lance approached.

“I guess we’re about to find out.” Sid put on a long face. Lance’s big head almost filled the window. His little eyes got big. “You! Why isn’t she secured?”

“She’s not going anywhere, Lance. Her loved one is hostage in the back.”

“They should both be in there,” Lance said. “Kane’s not going to like this. Where’s the bird lady?”

Manson leaned toward the windshield and glanced up in the sky. “I’m sure she’ll be landing any moment now, if she hasn’t already. Why, do you still have a thing for her?”

Lance gaped. “What thing?”

“Oh, people talk. They say you give the little lady a lot of leers. I can’t blame you. She’s a fine wine even to the likes of myself, though a little moody.”

“I don’t remember you being so talky,” Lance said. He stuck his entire head through the window. Sid crammed into the back of her seat. Lance sniffed. “Anyone back in there?”

“The truck cab? Uh, no, you can see for yourself.” Manson popped his door open.

“Forget it.” Lance looked at Sid. “You burnt my hair.”

“I don’t care.”

“You will.” Lance walked away. He snatched a radio from one of the guards. The radio looked like a credit card in his big hand. He said something. A few seconds later, he gave a nod and then dropped the radio on the ground. Using his hand like a grizzly bear’s paw, he grabbed the heavy gate by the chain-link fencing and walked it open, waving the truck through.

Manson jammed the truck into gear, hit the gas, and stalled.

“Really?”

He started the engine again. “Sorry, but this clutch is jumpy.”

“No, your driving is shitty.”

“What do you expect? It’s been decades.” He hit the gas, the truck jumped forward, and he eased it through the gate. Lance stepped in front of the truck. Arms swinging easily and with giant strides, the colossal teen led them inside the compound. “Looks like things are going to be chippy. I hope things work out. I don’t recall seeing this many people about.”

Sid counted men in pea coats. They stood inside the windows and were scattered in the parking lot.

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