Bad Moon on the Rise: Six-Gun Shifters, #1
By Annie Bellet
5/5
()
About this ebook
From the world of The Twenty-Sided Sorceress comes a bold new Urban Fantasy series!
Tiger-shifter. Bounty hunter. Vigilante for hire.
Kira Jones solves her problems with a big gun and she rarely has the same problem twice.
But not all problems can be solved with a bullet, and some cases are more complicated than others...
This is the first book in the Six-Gun Shifters series following Alek's sister Kira and her crew on their adventures in vigilante justice. This series stands entirely on its own.
Annie Bellet
Annie Bellet is the author of the Pyrrh Considerable Crimes Division, The Twenty-Sided Sorceress, and the Gryphonpike Chronicles series. She holds a BA in English and a BA in Medieval Studies and thus can speak a smattering of useful languages such as Anglo-Saxon and Medieval Welsh. Her short fiction work is available in multiple collections and anthologies. Her interests besides writing include rock climbing, reading, horse-back riding, video games, comic books, table-top RPGs and many other nerdy pursuits. She lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and a very demanding Bengal cat.
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Reviews for Bad Moon on the Rise
1 rating1 review
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Enjoyable, violent urban/beach fantasy, and I learned something new, always a plus. I read Bellet’s Twenty-sided Sorceress series (loads of fun), so I wanted to learn about the sister of the tiger shifter Aleksy (spelling?)
Kira’s story seems to start mid-book, or mid-series, since she already has a crew (Cora & Alma, shifters; Jaq, mysterious teleporting driver), an RV, and a back story, but whose life starts on page 1? Kira’s an assassin for hire, though picky about her targets (must be bad or evil), and thinks humans are less complicated than the magical community. But of course, she can’t avoid other shifters. One foe in the book is an epicyon, which I looked up—I saw bones at the LeBrea Tar Pits of this prehistoric canid killer, but had completely forgotten it and the name, so I spent half a morning reading about these killer canids who hunted at the time of saber-toothed cats. Any book that teaches something is a winner to me. I’ll definitely read book 2, I’m glad I’m on Annie Bellet’s email list.
Book preview
Bad Moon on the Rise - Annie Bellet
Bad Moon on the Rise
Six-Gun Shifters: Book One
Annie Bellet
Copyright 2020, Annie Bellet and AnneMarie Buhl
All rights reserved. Published by Doomed Muse Press.
This novel is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and incidents described in this publication are used fictitiously, or are entirely fictional.
No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted, in any form or by any means, except by an authorized retailer, or with written permission of the publisher. Inquiries may be addressed via email to doomedmuse.press@gmail.com.
Cover designed by Gene Mollica
Formatting by Polgarus Studio
Electronic edition, 2020
If you want to be notified when Annie Bellet’s next novel is released and get free stories and occasional other goodies, please sign up for her mailing list by going to: http://tinyurl.com/anniebellet Your email address will never be shared and you can unsubscribe at any time.
This book is dedicated to my husband and to chicken nuggets.
Without either, I might never have finished.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
Also by Annie Bellet:
Chapter One
I sat on the back terrace of the Blue Café, a little place in a little town on the edge of a bigger town that could have been a hundred places across the western United States and nowhere at all, watching humans going about their lives oblivious to the dangers lurking in the evening around them.
Dangers like me, or like I could be if I wasn’t stuck sipping a weak iced coffee and waiting for a man with a problem apparently only a fixer like myself could solve. I watched people move past and wondered idly what they’d do if they knew a tiger lurked just above them. The bored, capricious beast in me was tempted to shift and find out.
Client is entering now, wearing a red shirt,
said Cora’s voice in my earpiece. Wish you’d given us more of a chance to vet him.
I heard your objections the first ten times. We’ll figure out the details later,
I murmured as I turned my gaze from the people passing the back terrace toward the entrance from the café.
"You mean we’ll figure out details later and you’ll do all the fun stuff."
I smiled but ignored Cora’s response. She and her twin, Alma, had been very picky about the cases and clients we took lately, and I’d finally put my foot down and just grabbed a file from their stack of potentials whose finances had checked out. We were fixers, when people had a problem that human laws and means couldn’t solve, my team and I stepped in and fixed things. Usually with murder.
I never said we were the good guys.
The man in the brick red button-down shirt making his way toward me with all the nervousness of a TV prom date didn’t at a glance appear the kind of man who needed a hired gun, but I’d learned in the last few decades of bounty hunting with a side of vigilantism that it took all types and anyone could get themselves into trouble. He had a thin, earnest face with small pale eyes and an expression that had frozen somewhere between surprise and shiftiness. His clothes fit in a way that suggested he was unarmed, even if he hadn’t been moving with all the self-awareness of a brick. The details in his file listed him as a CFO for a tech company I’d never heard of, in his early forties, and married with no children. His name was Richard, no nickname listed.
Are you, uh, I mean,
Richard stuck out a hand toward me, then withdrew it.
He smoothed down his trouser pockets, making it even more obvious he’d come to this meeting without so much as a folding knife. Not that I’d expected someone armed. He’d clearly never hired anyone like me before, probably had all his knowledge of this sort of thing from television and movies. I imagined that’s why he’d insisted the meeting take place at night.
Nobody wants to hire a killer in broad daylight. At least not their first time.
Sit down,
I said, nudging the chair opposite me with my boot.
They said a tall blonde, but you look like a super model, so I wasn’t sure,
Richard tried on a smile and ran a hand through his light brown hair. He was almost cute when he smiled, a little of the Frat boy he might have been once showing through an exterior worn down by decades of disappointment. His watch, much like his shoes, was obvious and expensive, and he fiddled with it as he waited for me to say anything. A thick gold band glinted on his left hand, expensive-looking but traditional.
I’d gotten used to Americans thinking any woman over five foot ten should be a model, so I let it slide without even an eye-roll. I was six foot three and full clad in black leather from my boots to my pants to my jacket, carrying two guns and enough knives to take over a small country. I was used to being stared at, even if most of my weapons weren’t obvious to untrained human eyes.
You’re being blackmailed,
I prompted.
In a way. It’s my wife doing it.
Richard’s expression grew more pained as he leaned forward, lowering his voice even though nobody was near us. I’d already paid the waiter to bring me coffee and then make sure we weren’t disturbed. Nobody else would be seated on the back terrace for the next hour.
Your wife is blackmailing you?
The file hadn’t said. This was one of the details the twins had complained they needed to follow up. But I was anxious since it had been nearly three months since our last interesting job. I wanted action. I was a tiger, an apex predator, and we get a little murdery when we go too long without a hunt.
I want a divorce,
Richard said, his voice still a stage whisper, but she’s pregnant and I know she’ll win ridiculous amounts of alimony and child support. The courts just don’t side with the man, you know?
He was doing his best impression of a beleaguered victim of circumstance as I sat trying to wrap my head around what he was asking.
You want me to kill your pregnant wife so she doesn’t get alimony and child support?
I finally said. In my ear piece I could hear the muted whispers as Cora and Alma started hissing about how this was why we vet people and that I should just walk away.
This guy is terrible,
Cora said into my earpiece. This is why we don’t just take cases. Come on, Kira.
It sounds terrible,
Richard said, but if you knew her, you’d realize this is my only chance to escape. She’s evil. I doubt the baby is even mine. She’ll do anything to make sure I get nothing. She’s going to destroy my life and my lawyers say I can’t do anything about it. Our pre-nup is ironclad.
Kira,
Alma said. Don’t. I know what you are thinking. Walk away. Kira?
She’s going to do it again?
Cora asked.
Pre-nup?
I said as I casually pretended to brush some hair away from my face and turned off my ear piece. The twins could rant at me later, but there was blood in this water now and I was hungry.
My wife comes from old money, she uses it to control me. She’s ruined my life.
He ran a nervous hand through his hair again. I wondered if the stylist he probably paid three figures a cut to knew he had that habit. I want to move on, but she’ll never let me go.
Because he was such a catch, I could see that. About as great a catch as he was at playing victim while paying for a murder.
So you can marry someone else?
I guessed.
His eye widened as he nodded. We’re in love. I just want to be free.
He glanced around the empty terrace. I was told by, well, it doesn’t matter, but I was told you fix things like this. That you can take care of her so that nobody knows.
Some cousin we’d helped a few years ago had referred Richard to us, I remembered the note in the file. Almost all our clients were referrals. That didn’t mean they were all cases we wanted to take on. I’d have to pick up a box of fancy, overpriced cupcakes to make nice with Cora and Alma after steamrolling them about this guy.
Divorce is not an option?
I asked. I want you to be sure, because my solutions are final.
It’s not. She’d take everything. I worked too hard to let her take my money and raise some other man’s kid.
He nearly snarled the words, like a puppy who hasn’t learned what truly sharp teeth look like. He seemed to realize his victim mask was slipping and sat back, looking almost embarrassed.
What if we got her to sign something saying she’ll take nothing?
I knew the answer from his expression, from his body language, but I asked anyway, waiting to see if he’d lie to me.
It’s not an option. She’s evil,
he repeated. You have to take care of her.
And the baby?
I kept my face neutral.
It’s not mine,
he said, then seemed to realize how that sounded. She’s barely pregnant. Just a few weeks. I can pay extra if that’s an issue.
The just a few weeks
was a lie, I could taste it almost, see it in his eyes, the way his breathing accelerated. I was glad I’d turned off the ear piece or I’d be listening to Cora and Alma cursing in three different languages right about now. They’d almost certainly subject me to a reprise performance once I got back.
But first, I had to figure out what to do with Richard CFO. Walking away was the easy option, but then there would still be a man seeking to murder his pregnant wife. It was painfully obvious this guy wanted his wife dead. I didn’t get how a man could go from in sickness and in health
to death better part us quick
but then again, long term romantic attachments were not exactly in my wheelhouse. Murderous desire though? That I had down. I knew from ten minutes with this guy that if I didn’t solve the problem, someone else would. It was just business, after all.
You bring the money?
I said after I finished off the last melted ice dregs of my coffee.
Hope dawned in Richard’s pale eyes and some of his earnestness faded like the thin veneer it was, revealing the gleam of eager hatred beneath. In the car, wasn’t sure if you wanted to do that here.
I don’t,
I said, making a quick decision. Let’s take a drive.
Maybe it was because he was inexperienced and nervous. Maybe he was too wrapped up in his desire to destroy his wife. Maybe it was because I was a woman, even though I was inches taller and outweighed him by more than a few kilos. But Richard barely even blinked at getting up, walking out of the café with me, and letting me get into the passenger seat of his Audi R8 coupe that seemed to overstate I have money but want to be different about it.
No basic BMW or Mercedes for Richard CFO. I kept my gaze away from where the RV-HQ, as the twins called our RV headquarters, was parked, knowing the twins would have eyes on me and be extra super pissed right about now.
I gave him directions that led out of town and along an old highway that exited onto country roads. He licked his lips nervously a few times and glanced at me, but I kept my posture casual and stared out the side window, watching him covertly in the reflection. He wasn’t armed and wasn’t going to try anything. Back at RV-HQ, I imagined they were both going insane at my radio silence, and the thought made me smile.
Left here,
I said, spying the junk yard I’d seen on one of my burning off energy
motorcycle rides around the area. The place was abandoned, with heavy chains across the gate, but the fence to the side had been torn away by thieves or horny teenagers, leaving a gap a car fit easily though. I directed him to drive through the gap and around behind a derelict metal shed.
I made a file about her, her schedule and everything, it’s in the glove box with the money.
Richard shut off the car and turned to me, the dome light casting unflattering shadows over his lined face.
I smelled the sharp bite of fear sweat. Apparently his lizard brain had caught up to the fact that he was in a car in the middle of nowhere with a hired killer. Sometimes I wondered how humans ever made it out of caves.
This can’t trace back to me,
he added. Not that I’m questioning your ability. I just want to be free of this.
This
being the woman he married. I didn’t care about the particulars. Maybe she was a psychic vampire, the human sort, who preyed on and sapped the joy from everyone around her. Maybe she really was ruining this man’s life. I’m sure there was blame on both sides for how this mess had grown and festered.
But she was pregnant, and this man wanted her money more than he wanted to protect a new life he had helped bring into the world.
Even we tigers care for our young.
Roll down your window,
I said.
Why?
he asked, but he pushed the button even as he said it, the window going down quiet and fast. Warm evening air flooded in carrying the scent of rusting metal and dried grasses.
So if the bullets go through your skull I won’t have to deal with broken glass.
I slid my Glock 19 smoothly from the holster inside my jacket and fired two shots into Richard the CFO’s head.
I left the file in the glove box, but took the packet of wet wipes and the envelope full of hundred dollar bills. The junkyard echoed with empty silence after the deafening blasts from inside the car. My ears quit ringing after a couple minutes. I cleaned the spatter I could see from my hands, face, and jacket, then I turned my ear piece back on.
We’re going to need to have a little clean up party,
I said. I did it again.
I better get extra sprinkles for this,
Cora muttered.
Red velvet for me. Now tell me where you went?
Alma said with a heavy sigh.
I looked at the Audi and smiled again. Sometimes I’m the bad guy. But sometimes being bad makes the world just a little better.
Chapter Two
When most people think of RVs, they think of cramped camper vans with plaid furnishings. Before I’d rescued Jaq from a cult of self-described witch hunters, I’d also had that image in my head. Then Jaq had introduced me to his version, customized and upgraded over the years into a home on wheels, including multiple modifications to accommodate the twins since they were quite literally joined at the hip.
The driver’s area had two seats with all the trimmings of electronic comfort including in-seat heating and cooling. Above that was a curtained off sleeping compartment where Jaq did the equivalent of sleeping for his species. He’d never said what he was, exactly, and I’d never asked other than to establish he wanted to be called a him, but although he looked like a very non-description human of indeterminate gender, Jaq smelled like the sea on a cold autumn day. Sometimes I’d catch him