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

pieces. Others only had limited operating times. A construct could have one or all those weaknesses.

Without being able to inspect the construct more closely and leisurely, Lyssa had no chance of figuring it out. She might not need to worry if it didn’t start moving again soon.

Lyssa’s guns dipped. “It looks like our boy doesn’t want to fight anymore.” She looked around. “But that doesn’t answer the question of where Serafina is.”

She furrowed her brow. A body could fit under the pile leftover in the corner, but there was no blood anywhere.

“Serafina might have weakened it.” Lyssa sidestepped to peer at the pile. “That might be why it stopp—"

The construct took a step forward. So much for it being out of power. She didn’t want to take a hit from something that strong, but it was so slow that there was no way it could land a blow.

“Recharging, huh?” Lyssa lifted her guns. “I’ve got a lot more than a couple of bullets for you.”

A final flash surrounded the construct. It dissipated, along with the glow, both from the cracks and aura.

The construct barreled through the room, the lumbering giant replaced by a fleet Olympian. Each step knocked trash and debris out of the way or crushed it underfoot. Lyssa hissed in surprise and silently thanked Jofi for not choosing that moment to offer an “I told you so.”

It closed the distance and flung a silver fist at her. Lyssa ducked the blow and jumped to the side. With quick trigger pulls, she walked bullets up and down its body, hoping to find its weak spot or forcing it into another recharge cycle. Her shots bounced off with bright sparks.

The construct charged her again, and she twirled out of the way like a matador taking on an angry bull. Its heavy silver fist smashed into the wall. Chunks shot out, leaving another deep dent.

Lyssa emptied her pistols into the construct before leaning back to avoid its latest blow. Unlike the enemy, she’d not left a dent. She had not accomplished anything but scratches.

Her enemy got lucky in its next attack, and its fist clipped her in the side. The hit sent her to the floor with a loud crack.

She had never been sideswiped by a truck, but she imagined it felt similar. Hissing in pain, she rolled out of the way of a heavy stomp. Testing her defenses could wait for another day.

Lyssa ignored her pain and sprang to her feet. “All you do is punch. Up your game.”

The construct charged again, but this time she was ready. She jumped onto an overturned piece of table and backflipped off, leaving nothing but air for the construct.

“Taunting an unintelligent creation is a waste of concentration and time,” Jofi said.

Lyssa holstered one of her pistols while dodging another blow. “But it’s fun, and it makes me feel better about myself.”

“Destroying the enemy would do more to raise your self-esteem.”

“True enough. I’m getting to that.”

The construct tried a kick. Lyssa’s dodge helped her escape its foot by inches.

“Great, now it’s learning.”

“Recommend you increase your level of engagement,” Jofi said.

Lyssa’s body and head jerked side to side, keeping any more hits from landing. Her opponent struck fast and hard, but at least he hadn’t mastered combos yet.

Jofi was right. The enemy was fast, dangerous, strong, and it didn’t appear to be running out of power. She didn’t know its weak point. That left one option. She needed to obliterate enough of its body so nothing was left to threaten her. It was time for enchanted ablative rounds.

“You’re going to regret messing with me.” Lyssa vaulted off another piece of table with her free hand.

A punch missed her, close enough to muss her hair. The heavy blow crashed into the sad remains of a shelf, collapsing it and sending the containers of tiny steel nuts it held to the floor. Pieces of the shelf bounced off her mask.

Lyssa reached into a specific pocket to grab a magazine. She didn’t have time to reload before there was another attack, another kick. Her quick sprint took her to the other side of the room.

She slapped the magazine into her pistol while the construct turned to face her. It charged again, bringing back a fist. She aimed at the center of its chest and loosed three rounds in rapid succession, taking a step back with each.

Yellow-tinged purple flames exploded from the points of contact. The blasts vaporized huge chunks of the construct and surrounded it with dark smoke. Lyssa’s opponent stumbled back with each strike and molten metal splattered, hissing as it hit the floor.

The attack left a nasty uneven gouge in the enemy’s chest. Dozens of cracks shot from the wounds, glowing like they had earlier. A bright aura surrounded the construct.

Lyssa frowned. “Oh, come on! That’s not fair.”

The construct became a blur of speed. Its next blow nailed Lyssa square in the chest with such force that it launched her across the room. Something crunched in her torso. Fiery pain spread everywhere, and it was hard to breathe.

Lyssa managed to get off more shots before smacking into the wall at high speed for another date with Mr. Pain. She groaned and tumbled forward. Doing her best to ignore the pain suffusing her body, she kept her gun aimed at the construct’s chest and rapidly pulled the trigger before landing on her knee. She emptied the rest of her magazine into her opponent, screaming in defiance.

“Take that, you stupid piece of crap!”

Each shot exploded and obliterated more of the construct. Despite her unsteady state, the enemy couldn’t get closer to finish her. The force of the attacks knocked it back. By the time her gun went dry, she’d forced the construct against a wall. Thick dark smoke billowed from its chest, hiding its upper body. An acrid stench filled the air.

“That was expensive,” she muttered. “And painful.”

Her vision swimming, Lyssa hopped to her feet and loaded a penetrator magazine on pure muscle memory. She steadied her pistol