The Bounty Hunter stepped behind a large Oak tree. The backyard was layered in darkness. Grey storm clouds had rolled in from the east obscuring the full moon. Samuel took in a deep breath. The scent of water and pollution was heavy in the air. He thought back to decades past when much of this area was still dominated by forest and the only thing to fear was the occasional coyote.

“It’ll be over soon.” He waited in silence. “I’m talking to you, not the Colt.”

“Oh, I wasn’t sure.” Jessie’s voice came from his left. “Are you waiting for them to come out?”

Samuel took out the stick that used be a lollipop and flicked it aside. He purposely allowed his mind to visualize a blank wall. He wanted to see if Jessie could see beyond it. As the silence hung in the air, he figured she could only read the thoughts at the front of his mind.

“No, they won’t come out for us. Why would they? We don’t have anything they want. But they have something we want, or something you want, and I don’t mean Devlin’s head.”

Shimmering in golden light, Jessie slowly appeared next to him. Even with his head turned, he could feel the sadness on her face.

“I’m sorry, Samuel, I didn’t want to lie to you. I just thought, well, you’re a bounty hunter, and I thought killing is all he is. I was wrong about that. I was wrong not to tell you the truth. Devlin has my mother. Somehow he has managed to do what no other non-angel has ever done. He captured an angel.”

The Bounty Hunter was only half listening. Somewhere between, ‘I was wrong’ and ‘mother’ his keen eyes spotted the flutter of curtains on a large side window, indicating it may be open. Without a backward glance at Jessie, he began walking towards his target.

“These things aren’t human, so I’m going to need a little something extra; I’m thinking phosphorous incendiary shells. I bet even werewolves burn.” The Colt glowed slightly and the Hunter smiled.

The window turned out to be a sliding glass door, and it was indeed open. The soldier who opened it stood two feet to the side with his automatic aimed at the opening. Blended into the shadows, he was virtually invisible.  His breath held for long minutes with no problem, he was deathly silent.  With no nerves  to speak of, and no heart beat, he was as still as a statute.

“It looks like they forgot this door.” Jessie touched her charm and slowly vanished. “We can slip in without them noticing.”

The Bounty Hunter stopped before the glass door and drew the Colt. “Let’s try that M-16 with armor piercing rounds.”

The Colt glowed brightly, and elongated in the Hunter’s hands. In seconds his revolver was replaced by a silver automatic rifle with a smiling red devil image on the barrel. “Cute.”

“Okay, let’s go,” said Jessie.

“Wait.” The Hunter held up his hand. “Two things I want you to remember before we head in there.”

“Okay.”

“First, do everything I say.”

“You got it, lover,” Jessie reached out and patted his buttocks, “and the second thing?”

“I’m a black man in a cowboy hat surrounded by werewolves, angels, nephilim, and God knows what else.” He raised his weapon and fired a steady stream around the door. The deafening sound of thunder and broken glass cut off all communication. When the sound faded, a swirl of black dust and a 9mm handgun fell through what remained of the door. The Hunter kicked the weapon aside and step through. “For me there is no such thing as going unnoticed.”

Thirty feet away the Sergeant heard the sound of automatic fire. A veteran of countless combat tours, he didn’t need to ask any questions. Right away he knew the weapon being fired didn’t belong to his men. He looked down at his P-90 and then tossed the weapon to floor.  The three squad members with him, one by one did the same with their guns.

“I don’t know who this fuck is,” the Serge began taking off his shirt, “but I know what he is, and so do you.”

“Meat, meat, meat,” The soldiers began to chant as they all grew, bursting shirt buttons, and snapping through belts like dry rubber bands.
 
Upstairs the Captain and Senator Devlin watched the view screens as the remains of the Spook Squad took on their true forms.

“That’s one rather large wolf, Captain.” Howls began to echo through the halls as the wolves and a lone goblin raced through the corridors and along the walls toward their prey.

“The Sergeant is half werewolf and half Orc. Naturally his mother, who had to deliver him in her human form, didn’t survive his birth, but I think the Squad did a good job of raising him.”
******

The Hunter heard the howls too. He reached down and picked up the 9mm. “They’ll come at us hard and fast. Stay behind me.” He felt a soft kiss on his cheek. “Alternate between silver and incendiary rounds,” he said to the Colt.

The Hunter threw off his coat and stepped into the hallway. Almost immediately the pounding of paws and scrapping of claws filled his ears.

A large grey goblin skittered along the wall at a fantastic rate. Its long claws dug in the dry wall allowing it to seemingly defy gravity.

He pulled the trigger on his 9mm. The Goblin seemed to dance between the rounds as they smashed into the wall.  The Hunter tried to bring the Colt to bear, but the creature leapt within his guard, and knocked the Colt from his hand. Both man and beast slid back along the marble floor. Razor sharp claws ripped into the Hunter’s vest. With one hand, he held the creature by the neck as it struggled to sink its teeth into man flesh.  The Hunter jabbed the barrel of his 9mm into the goblin’s gaping mouth.  For one brief moment its black eyes turned bright blue  and looked into the Hunter’s brown eyes, as its human mind registered what was about to happen.

The back of the creature’s head exploded onto the white walls, creating a mosaic of evil colors. The Hunter pushed the quickly changing carcass to the floor.

“Are you all right?” Jessie asked.  The Colt seemed to float in midair as the invisible woman handed it back to its master.

“I’ve been through worse.” The Hunter dropped the empty handgun. “Let’s kill them all.”

The Hunter and Jessie made their way into a large dining room.  Loud howls reverberated around them.  Two wolves jumped on the far end of the dining room table and ran towards the Hunter with jaws wide and red tongues wagging.

“Stupid.” The Hunter raised his M-16 and cut them into pieces. When the shooting stopped a haze of smokey brimstone formed a cloud over the table. “That was really dumb…”

“Samuel.” Jessie’s screaming warning came too late. The Hunter turned just as a mountain of rage, fur and teeth descended on him. The Colt hit the floor and slid to the wall.  The Hunter, not a weak man, tried to hold off the beast, but he was still a man, and the Serge was beyond his power. The Hunter screamed in agony as the Beast bit into his left arm. Thick, sharp, six inch fangs ripped apart muscle and penetrated bone.  Like a child pounding on a giant man the Hunter's blows thudded harmlessly off the monster’s hide.

Rank, hot and sticky saliva splashed across the Hunter face as the wolf chewed up his arm and into his shoulder.  The pain in what was left of his arm had ceased as nerve endings vanished down the beast’s gullet. The heavy bullet proof vest slowed the creature’s assault as its teeth fought with the armor.

In his mind the Hunter saw the images of his long lost mate and his son. He felt sorrow and regret at having failed them. With his death they would become just two more souls for Azazel’s collection.  Unable to move, the Hunter looked up to see the huge jaws of the Serge open wide. It would easily take in his head with one bite.