Southwest Nights (Semiautomatic Sorceress Book 1) by Kal Aaron (ebook reader for pc .TXT) 📗

so ornate and unintelligible it might as well have been in Lemurian. Dark makeup, all-black clothes, and guyliner fit the stereotype more than Lyssa, a pretty, dark-haired woman in a ponytail, jeans, a white leather jacket, and a t-shirt featuring Kawatsu-chan, a cutesy pink Japanese unicorn mascot character. Even her boots came off as fashion-conscious suburbanite rather than dangerous biker.

As Grant babbled on, she tuned out the television conversation to focus on her meal. Damien or Reed needed to come up with something for her soon. The quicker she found the source of the shards, the less chance there was of idiots like Grant Harris whipping up a panic.

She also needed the case to be over for her peace of mind. Accepting that she was letting the anniversary mess with her and having clear proof the job had nothing to do with her brother were two different things.

Grant’s words stung because she knew people like him had the advantage in the war for the public’s trust. The sad truth was, standing up and announcing who she was might empty the restaurant. Greater numbers of Illuminated or more open relationships between her kind and Shadows might make things different, but as it stood now, her kind were outnumbered and often not trusted. She couldn’t even claim there weren’t good reasons for mistrust.

Saying the Illuminated feared Shadow society might be going too far. Sorcery might not be infinite, but Lyssa had defeated an entire house full of armed criminals only a couple of days prior and was back to working out without ever hitting a hospital. Superior numbers ensured an unequal relationship.

A freckle-faced teenage employee barely old enough to work walked past her, trays in hand. He stopped to smile. “Enjoying your sandwich?”

She smiled at him, unsure of what this was about. “It’s nice, yes.”

“That bike is bitchin’.” He nodded at the yellow Ducati outside. “I don’t know a lot about motorcycles, but it looks cool and fast.”

Lyssa laughed, her tension leaving with the sound. “I love my bike. It’s cool, yes, and fast. Faster than you could imagine when I’m trying.”

“Just surprised to see someone with a bike like that in here.” He eyed her for a moment. “And you don’t seem the type.”

“Hey, sometimes a girl needs a chicken sandwich.” She smiled. “And all sorts of people ride bikes.”

“I’ll get one someday, but right now, I’ve got to get all the trays.” The boy laughed and lifted them. “The Man’s always calling.”

“You do what you need to.” Lyssa waved at him as he stepped away.

Though she liked a good chicken sandwich, hunger hadn’t been the main force that sent her to Emperor Chicken. The truth was, sometimes she needed to get away from Jofi. It wasn’t like the spirit could hear her thoughts, but she always felt his presence when she was close.

Sometimes she wanted to be alone. It was ironic that going to a fast-food joint filled with people would make her feel more that way than sitting in her house. There were too many secrets in her life, too many mysteries.

It was pointless to worry about what she couldn’t change. She’d been born into the Corti family and come into true power. That might not mean she had a destiny, but she had a responsibility.

She offered her tray to the boy and glanced at the TV again. The interview was coming to an end.

“I think every normal person out there should remember what we’re saying and not let our opponents mischaracterize our stances.” Grant adopted a stern look. “Whether the Society wants to call it magic or sorcery, it’s all the same. There is a group out there with powers beyond normal limits. Many of these people don’t even do us the courtesy of showing us their faces. If you have nothing to hide, Hecate, why do you wear a mask?”

“Screw that guy,” the busboy said, sweeping by Lyssa to grab her tray. “I bet Hecate is hot. That’s why she wears the mask. She doesn’t want guys always hitting on her.”

Lyssa laughed. “You think so? You don’t think she looks like an old lady?”

“No one who kicks that much ass looks like an old lady.” The boy left with his trays.

It was nice to know not every Shadow was against her, but she was concerned about adults like Grant Harris. The Society needed to clean up to keep his influence from growing.

Alvarez hadn’t conjured his shards out of thin air. There was a good chance that somewhere, a Sorcerer had gotten greedy. Whatever else it had to do with her, someone needed to go down.

Chapter Nine

Lyssa groaned when her cell phone awakened her the next morning. She rolled toward her nightstand and groped for the offending piece of technology, then opened her eyes enough to hit the accept call button. It wasn’t until she’d done so that she realized it was from an unknown number.

There was silence, then a click on the other end. She muttered, awaiting the stupid computer voice attempting to sell her an extended warranty on her bike or claim she owed the IRS millions of dollars. Who needed sorcery when there were so many ways to con people?

A single word came over the line, the voice distorted, not male or female, but with familiar diction. “Chartreuse.”

Lyssa’s stomach tightened. The universe was trying to screw her over by making everything come at her at the same time. Before she could even think to reply, the call ended. She had no choice now but to take a little trip.

“I’m going to grab a bite to eat,” she announced. “I’ll just be going around the corner. No reason to get you out.”

“If you’re sure,” Jofi replied. “I’m surprised to see you eat so early.”

“Sometimes you’re hungry.”

Sure? No. This was one thing she’d never be sure about.

Lyssa sped north on I-17, appreciating the light morning traffic. She didn’t bother with her regalia. That meant she couldn’t go any faster than normal and needed to