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

“Sorry.” Lyssa shrugged. “I like my soul. It’s not the best one, but it’s mine.”

“You have no choice but to use a showstopper,” Jofi said, his tone closer to normal. “It should disrupt the spirits.”

“I do have a choice.” Lyssa lifted her hand and chanted. Shadows flowed from the nearby cars to form a spectral spear. “I read something once about these things. I have an idea.”

She walked toward the emptiness spirits, holding her shadow spear in front of her. A black spiked clublike limb whipped from the closest spirit. She ducked it, but the follow-up, a trunk-like projection, struck her in the chest, disintegrating the material around the point of impact and sending her flying into a nearby windshield, cracking it. Her shadow spear disappeared.

Lyssa groaned and rolled off the car. She summoned a new spear and ran toward the emptiness spirits again. She spun and sidestepped the new attack to slam her spear into the spirit. Her blow struck deep, and the spirit writhed and thrashed.

She jumped and leaned backward to dodge a thin, blade-like tentacle from the other spirit. A backflip saved her from dark mandibles. Her wounded victim continued to writhe and change before its darkness flaked away like the last embers of an old fire.

“Yes,” Jofi said neutrally. Hearing emotion in his voice was the last thing Lyssa wanted in this situation. The retreat of his emotion reassured her his seal was intact.

Lyssa summoned another spear. Her chest was numb in the area where the emptiness spirit had struck her, the exposed flesh gray and dry. She sprinted toward the spirit, dodging, spinning, and ducking as it flung its concentrated darkness at her. She jammed in a spear into one side before pivoting past another strike to slam her second spear into its center.

The spirit whipped her with a wing, this time hitting her arm. She stumbled to the ground, gritting her teeth at the numbness, but she rolled out of the way as it struck at her again. The attack left smooth holes in the asphalt but did not score another hit. By the time she’d jumped back up, the spirit’s form had dissipated.

Lyssa rubbed her numb arm with a frown. Disappearing in wraith form would end with Tristan targeting the nearby sleepers. She had no choice but to continue playing his game. He had to be close. Once she drew him out, she could finish him off.

While payment for the property damage would be handled by the Society in exchange for silence, people couldn’t be killed without their families and the government asking questions. Beyond that, a Torch who let Shadows die because of a rogue Sorcerer was almost worse than the rogue.

Lyssa pulled out a gun and loaded penetrator rounds. She then loaded an explosive magazine into the second and pointed both guns in front of her. “All I wanted was a freaking glass of water! Come on, Tristan. If you’re going to kill me, get it over with. Chair dogs, puddles, and shadows? I’m not impressed.”

Dust swirled in the parking lot. The dim light from the nearby poles wavered and flickered. A man in loose white pants and shirt, white veil, and headband appeared, his arms covered in gloves. His appearance removed all doubt about his identity.

“I’m glad you finally decided to show yourself,” Lyssa said. She fired a penetrator at him. “And goodbye.”

Chapter Sixteen

The bullet bounced off an invisible shield protecting Tristan, sizzling and vaporizing as it fell to the ground. Lyssa fired two more rounds, and both met the same fate. Annoying, but not surprising.

“Did you think it’d be that easy?” Tristan asked, shaking his head. “I’d have been killed a long time ago if I could be shot with such ease.”

“A woman can dream, can’t she?” Lyssa replied.

“He’s using a spirit to protect him,” Jofi said.

“I kind of figured,” Lyssa whispered.

“Gun spirits are curious beings,” Tristan said. His veil fluttered in the breeze. “I don’t use firearms, so I haven’t dealt with them much. It’d be interesting to talk with your spirit, but bound spirits can be hostile to others. That’s who you’re talking to, isn’t it?”

“I refuse to deal with that man,” Jofi said.

“Don’t worry,” Lyssa replied. “You won’t have to.” She glared at Tristan. “You want Jofi, right? That’s what this is all about.”

“No, I don’t want your spirit.” Tristan sounded vaguely offended. “As I said, I don’t use guns. You have a darkness essence, but that doesn’t mean you use all of the darkness spells. I’m the same with spirits. It’s a matter of compatibility.”

Lyssa didn’t know if he was lying. The incident only made sense if Tristan was the one behind the attacks and was targeting Jofi. Lee had told her the binding ritual provided a disguise of sorts, meaning it’d take a dedicated spirit sorcery examination to learn Jofi wasn’t a gun spirit.

She frowned. There was no reason for him to play games and lie. She was missing something, like she had been from the beginning of this latest incident. It was driving her insane.

Lyssa needed to focus since the man had just tried to kill her. He was only talking because he believed he was safe.

“There’s something important you should know,” she said.

“What’s that?” Tristan replied.

“You’re not the first Sorcerer with a shield I’ve fought.” Lyssa aimed her other pistol at the ground and fired.

The explosion staggered Tristan. Chunks of the asphalt hit the shield but fell to the ground, sizzling and disappearing like the bullets. He grunted and stumbled back.

Grinning, Lyssa kept firing. She wasn’t finishing him off, but each shot forced him back, burning holes in his regalia and scorching him. At least she knew she could hurt him. It was hard to get a handle on the limits of his abilities with him having called in so many different spirits and using so many shards.

“This is pointless,” Tristan shouted. He flew to the side, pulled by an unseen force, before flying