Courts and Cabals 2 by G.S. D'Moore (warren buffett book recommendations TXT) 📗

my soul had been barbequed when the Fae’s power was transferred to me in some ancient ritual of the bleeding ground’s “you keep what you kill” mentality.

The whole scenario was one giant mindfuck, and I hadn’t tried to make sense of it yet. “There’s a lot that doesn’t make sense,” I put on my seatbelt and sat next to Lilith to try and digest it all.

First off, I wasn’t even entirely sure I was human anymore. The doubt crept in long before the fight, back when I started displaying unusual abilities. I’d felt a spark in my mind one day during training, and suddenly, I could see what was about to happen. It wasn’t much. I couldn’t see tomorrow’s lottery numbers, but I had a half-second warning if I was in the zone; totally focused on the combat in front of me. That had allowed me to go toe to toe with Dani and Xamira in training, and ultimately allowed me to take down the Fae knight.

However, I’d also learned it wasn’t infallible. If people knew I had the ability, they could counter it with strategy. Afterall, I couldn’t fight physics, and the Knight had proven that to me the hard way by fucking me up pretty good. He’d nearly killed me with a single strike.

“Then . . .” I tried to remember how the fight ended, but it was all blurry. My sword had been sticking out of the big troll’s chest, and since it was made of cold iron, the weakness of the Fae race, that had killed him good and quick. “But . . .” I couldn’t remember how I got from getting knocked on my ass with a broken shoulder, and several not-so-small puncture wounds, to killing the Fae.

No matter how hard I tried, it was like trying to hold water in my hands. The truth of the memory just slipped through my fingers. I shook the excess adrenaline out of my arms, and concentrated on what I did know. Amanda Springfield, one of St. Vincent’s two Anima mages – the branch of human magic that dealt with the human mind – had called me a precog. I guess that was technically right, but my power seemed to come and go. She called what she saw an aftertaste of the combat-induced sight.

Then there was the healing. I thought Lilith had worked her sex magic on me all along. As the First of her harem, an important role in the cabal, I had lots of responsibilities to my succubus boss. She needed me to perform my duties, and I couldn’t do that if I was constantly fucked up. Apparently, she hadn’t been healing me of the various injuries I’d sustained over the course of my involvement with supernaturals. The healing wasn’t anything special. I healed way faster than the average human, but much slower than supernatural standards.

So, to wrap it up; I was precognitive, but only when I hit my stride in a fight. I could heal, but not fast, and somehow, I’d found the strength, speed, and skill to kill a Fae knight.

“And then,” I remembered another aspect of my new self that I didn’t understand.

The same daggers the noble Fae bitch, Aveena Foxbelle, had injured Dani with, had come for me too. I’d thrown up my hands instinctually to protect my body – like it was actually going to save me or something – and it surprisingly did. A mostly-translucent shield appeared between me and the blade. The blade shattered on impact with the shield, but it felt like someone roundhouse kicked me in the temple. My head still throbbed.

Thinking about the pain brought it back, and I groaned. Both women sitting in front turned to glare at me.

“Suck it up, Cam. We aren’t out of this yet,” Dani shot back.

I was glad dwarf senses and reflexes were far superior to humans because Dani was driving at about a hundred miles an hour, down a country road, in the dark. I tried not to hyperventilate, or imagine t-boning a cow that wandered off from the herd. All it took was one stupid animal to step into the road and we were dead. Well . . . I was dead. Everyone else would survive the crash.

It was about two miles to the highway, which was our primary escape route from the police and fucking government helicopter that were circling the town of Vincent’s Hollow. It took us less than a minute to get there and find more flashing lights blocking the entry ramp. Dani slammed on the breaks, leaving fifty feet of burned rubber on the asphalt. A pair of troopers in the blue and yellow squad cars of the NYS police looked at the bullet-ridden minivan in surprise. Both groups just sat there for a moment, watching each other, before we all moved at once.

Dani hit the accelerator, and the cops went for their guns. Xamira flowed smoothly out of the passenger side window, hooked her legs around the seat for stability, and opened fire. The much more powerful M4 rifle barked, and the cops hit the ground. The imp had aimed far over their heads. She wasn’t actually going to shoot them, but she needed them down and out of the way.

The van lurched as Dani took it into the grass, around the barricade, and down the ramp. Xamira swiveled outside the van, took careful aim, and put two rounds into the grills of each cop car. I didn’t know if that would stop them. This wasn’t a Hollywood action movie, but I trusted the imp. She’d trained for shit like this.

“That bought us a second,” she informed.

It was more literal than she intended. I could already hear more sirens in the distance coming for us. Despite the decrepit, soccer mom vehicle, we were hitting one-twenty on the highway. Still, there was no way in hell we