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

be able to convince the Shadows not to be suspicious if we use their criminals as excuses. They already view us as dangerous puppeteers, and I can’t say that’s completely unfounded. For now, we need to remember it’ll take many more years, if not decades or longer, to achieve some sort of equilibrium in our coexistence, given the general public’s knowledge of us.”

“I don’t know how you can have equilibrium with a handful of Sorcerers and billions of Shadows.” Lyssa shrugged and gave him a defiant look when he frowned at her. “I get what you’re saying, but you’re talking about the distant future.”

“Our true numbers are increasing again for the first time in a long time. Our revelation to the world has worked out better than we planned and fits well with our other increases in fortune. The Society is growing stronger.” Samuel’s expression turned stern. “We need a probable path toward equilibrium, not a guarantee based on any one timetable.”

Lyssa didn’t bother to press Samuel on that. With the sinking of Lemuria, the last of the pure-blooded Sorcerers had passed into the dustbin of history. The Cataclysm had also taken most of the knowledge and records concerning their relatives. The event and the spread of Illuminated into the cracks of Shadow society had resulted in a steady decline in their numbers, along with a loss of overall power.

It was hard to separate the propaganda from the truth about greater power in the past and success in the future, but the Society had trumpeted steadily increasing numbers of Sorcerers since the 1960s. Before, a family might produce a true Illuminated once every few generations, and now some families spit out more than one, such as the case of the Cortis. Some rumors attributed this to the moon landing, but no one was able to explain how a Shadow technological achievement would contribute to Illuminated sorcery.

“What good is the equilibrium of the Society to people like me?” Lyssa mumbled. She hadn’t realized she’d said it aloud until she noticed the angry look from Samuel.

“Without the Society,” he replied, enunciating each word, “the Shadows would sweep over the Illuminated like a tsunami. They’d scour us from the Earth. They’d find a way to get to Last Remnant and destroy it with their nuclear and chemical bombs.” He sniffed in disdain. “Is this latest fit of pique about your brother?” He frowned. “Ah, yes, the anniversary of his death. And let’s be clear about that. Just because his regalia—”

“I know,” Lyssa snapped. “Somebody already shoved that in my face recently.” She scrubbed a hand over her face. “And I know she was trying to help me when she said it. But that doesn’t matter, I’m not here to talk about him, and I honestly don’t care much about politics. I’ve got a contract to track down the source of the shards and clean up the mess. I’ll do that, and I’ll leave the rest to you. If there’s a rogue at the end of this, I’m not going to call you to ask for permission. I’ll clean that up the second I find it, whether or not it’s politically convenient.”

The mention of her brother rekindled a pathetic hope that this incident was targeted at her and related to him somehow, but the rational part of her had given up on that. Finding and taking down the smugglers would help her get past the emotions piling up from the anniversary.

A subtle look of discomfort flickered across Samuel’s face. “I might have misspoken when I suggested the possibility of a rogue. You were right before. Many shards have slipped through the Society’s fingers throughout the millennia. The Shadows now fully appreciate their value and know better how to use them.”

Lyssa gave him a skeptical look. It sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than her.

“Do you honestly believe that?” she asked.

“I choose to believe until presented with less annoying evidence, but I encourage you to be prepared for all possibilities.”

“Understood.” Lyssa grabbed her gun and waved it. “I should probably spend less time talking to you and more time investigating.”

Samuel’s form blurred into the boring disguise from before. “Keep me apprised of your progress.”

Lyssa offered a mocking salute. “Don’t worry, Great Elder. I’ll get this mess cleaned up.”

“I sincerely hope so.”

Chapter Nineteen

Pulling into a gas station in east Scottsdale, Lyssa yawned, already mentally exhausted even though it wasn’t noon yet. A man filling his black Silverado watched her out of the corner of his eye. The Ducati drew plenty of attention in its normal form.

Everyone liked a sexy bike. Getting attention as Lyssa rather than Hecate wasn’t unwelcome, but she’d bought the Ducati for her and her love of the road, not to get a man.

Sometimes when she stopped at a gas station, she wanted to laugh. For all her clever rituals and help from a spirit, in the end, she couldn’t avoid having to pump 93-octane into her motorcycle.

The Silverado owner, a broad-shouldered man with a cute boy-next-door look, continued to do his best to pretend he wasn’t looking at her while watching her every move. What would he think if he knew the great Hecate the Night Goddess needed to hit a Shell now and again?

Five years after M-Day, the average Shadow still didn’t understand sorcery. The Society encouraged that. A lack of information wasn’t misinformation, the Elders claimed.

Lyssa furrowed her brow. She didn’t agree. Stratagems and politics should come after the truth, not before, but she’d follow the fossils’ rules until they convinced her it would make things worse, not better.

There wasn’t much she could do as an individual. The future didn’t care about individuals, even Illuminated. Power wasn’t the same thing as omnipotence, even though the Tribunal camping out on Last Remnant liked to pretend otherwise.

Her nozzle clicked, and the gas flow stopped. She replaced the nozzle on the pump.

“That man is paying excess attention to you,” Jofi said.

“I know,” she whispered. “He’s just hoping for a