Southwest Truths (Semiautomatic Sorceress Book 3) by Kal Aaron (the red fox clan .txt) 📗

The hydro men flowed through the fence, but they weren’t the only threat. The deckchairs at the pool twisted and wrenched to create four jointed metal legs and two sharp protrusions near the fronts of their makeshift bodies. They vaguely reminded Lyssa of dogs. Getting attacked by chair dogs might have been amusing if it hadn’t involved a spirit essence-using assassin who’d already killed an Eclipse.

The chair dogs scampered up the fence and jumped over to join the hydro men. Compared to some of Lyssa’s recent jobs, let alone the mine, there wasn’t a huge number of enemies. She could handle the conjured lackeys as long as she stayed calm.

Lyssa holstered her conventional pistol and ejected the penetrator magazine, placing it in her pocket and replacing it with explosive rounds. She couldn’t avoid damage to the motel, but keeping close to the pool and parking lot would save anyone else from getting hurt.

“This isn’t about fear,” the voice said. “It’s an evaluation. I wanted to see firsthand how you’d react to this situation. You have a reputation in the Society, but reputations are flimsy things, coats of lies woven from dark gossamer threads that are easy to tear apart.”

“What are you getting at?” Lyssa asked. “You think I’m all talk and no walk?”

“No, no, no.” The voice sighed. “That’d be an idiotic conclusion. You’ve completed far too many tasks as a Torch for anyone to believe that, but I needed to know the truth behind the mask, Hecate.”

His hydro men and the chair dog force didn’t advance. Lyssa wasn’t far from the pool. Given that she’d just seen the chair dogs move, closing the distance would have been easy.

It was time for her to take control of the situation. Her newfound friend acted like he had the upper hand, but his army couldn’t even see her. A small reveal of her knowledge might throw him off balance.

“Come on, Tristan,” Lyssa said. “Why all the games? Why the show?”

“You think you know who I am?” the voice replied, sounding amused.

“You’re Tristan St. James, Eclipse, bearer of the Snow Ghost regalia, and all-around badass,” Lyssa said. “If this was supposed to be a big surprise, you shouldn’t have used so many spirits. The big, bad Eclipse doesn’t know I have a spirit, too? I’ve known from the beginning spirits were involved with all this. Hell, you flat-out told me you’re using spirits.”

It wasn’t the voice who spoke next, but Jofi. “Given what you’ve said in the past about this man, you should ready a showstopper.”

“I see,” Tristan said. “I should have been more cautious. I didn’t intend to be so obvious, and I didn’t expect you’d have reason to think it was me.”

Lyssa half-wondered if Tristan could hear Jofi speak, given his spirit essence and general ability. It didn’t matter. She loaded a showstopper into her other gun and holstered it.

“Aren’t you going to kill me with your army?” Lyssa asked. “Or is it that you can’t find me? Not as impressive when you’re not surprising a man from behind?”

“I’ve heard about your brutality and lethal reputation,” Tristan replied. The hollow and echoing quality disappeared, replaced by a quiet, deep, masculine voice. “But I’ve also heard something else. One might consider it a weakness.”

“What’s that?”

“You make extreme efforts to avoid injuries to innocent people.”

Lyssa snorted, trying to throw him off. He couldn’t be allowed to think he had an advantage or any reason to threaten hostages. Lying cost her nothing.

“You don’t know me that well,” she said. “Samuel does a good job of covering things up. He calls me Miss Collateral Damage.”

“Oh?” Tristan let out a quiet laugh. “Is that so? There’s an easy way to discern the truth.”

The hydro men sloshed toward the smoker while the chair dogs padded toward the housekeeper. “To attack someone is to bare your soul. It exposes you to the world. You can’t hide and fight.”

Lyssa gritted her teeth. She couldn’t risk firing her explosive rounds so close to the unconscious victims. He’d left her only one choice.

She jogged backward and dropped her wraith form and soul blanket. The hydro men and the chair dogs stopped their advance, turning toward her.

Lyssa waved her gun. “Fine, Tristan. Bring it on. You want to test me? Time to see what Hecate can do.”

Chapter Fifteen

The outside lights all clicked back on. It didn’t matter much to Lyssa, other than pointing to Tristan trying to conserve power. The change supported her earlier hypotheses about being able to wait him out. She didn’t want to take the bait, but he was right. She wouldn’t risk getting innocent people hurt.

The dome of darkness remained around the motel, cutting them off from the rest of the world. No one would be coming to help her.

No matter what she’d thought earlier, she needed to accept the truth. It was LA. Even if she called for help, it’d take them forever to get there.

Lyssa walked backward, making her way toward the parking lot via the concrete sidewalk that passed in front of her room. The strange force Tristan had assembled didn’t move with great urgency, and she couldn’t shake the belief he was still playing with her. She was almost past her room when the hydro men and the chair dogs sped up.

The absurdity of being attacked by weaponized furniture and pool water might make for a good story later, but at that moment, all she wanted was for them to move past the unconscious Shadows. Samuel hadn’t mentioned Tristan being willing to kill innocent people, but after what had happened with Aisha, Lyssa wasn’t willing to gamble with other people’s lives.

Lyssa continued moving backward and kept her gun trained on the closest advancing enemy, a hydro man. He slithered across the surface, surprisingly not leaving any water behind as he closed in on his prey. The chair dogs moved to the sides of the hydro men. It was the finest in mixed-arms spirit platoons.

“Why do I feel like I’m about