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

and inflicting even that minor a wound proved both the power of true sorcery and that Adrien’s blades couldn’t be ignored. Cops or FBI who tried to take him on would be paper dolls.

A quiet whooshing noise sounded from Adrien’s direction. She kept close to her current cover, a green shipping container. More hollow wrenching echoed all around her. She needed to get eyes on him.

Dozens of tiny needlelike blades shot up and rained down around the area. They embedded themselves in the containers with a cacophony of pings. Others buried themselves in the ground. None hit her.

“The enemy lacks confidence in his ability to defeat you,” Jofi said. “His attacks show desperation. Finish him off.”

“Or he’s being careful so he can take me out,” Lyssa whispered. “I got overly excited, but I need him alive so I can question him. You heard what he said about my brother.”

“Taking him prisoner might not be possible,” Jofi said. “You have suffered wounds and damage and aren’t completely recovered from your encounters with Miss Khatri and Miss Dale’s creation. Your showstopper has sapped your strength and mobility. You can’t find your brother if you’re dead.”

“Then I’ll have to make sure I don’t die.” Lyssa ejected her showstopper magazine and tucked it away. She replaced it with her remaining exploding round magazine, glad Aisha hadn’t forced her to use it up in Midland. “I’ve managed to do that for twelve years. I don’t see a reason why I would stop today.”

Explosions and gunfire continued to sound behind her, along with a loud, recognizable laugh. At least Aisha was enjoying herself.

The din of nearby battle almost drowned out the whooshing noise, but not enough that Lyssa couldn’t track it. She spun around the corner with both guns ready, her eyes narrowed, creeping forward. Adrien was close to her. She could feel his sorcery.

“You’ve seen what I’m capable of when I get serious,” Lyssa shouted, her gaze darting around, seeking the enemy. Knowing he was roughly in front of her wasn’t the same as knowing exactly where the next attack would come from, especially with so many potential places for cover among the containers—and that was assuming he hadn’t crawled inside one. “This is over, Adrien. I don’t know why you thought you could get away with smuggling shards, but this was how it was always going to end. On some level, you must know that.”

Lyssa stopped near an intersection of containers. The whooshing was louder but still not close. She spun. Nothing but sharp metal embedded in the ground.

“What you did shouldn’t be possible for someone like you,” Adrien called, his voice echoing from ahead of Lyssa. “You’re not old enough to hold such power. That shield would defy an Elder.”

“That’s the thing about having a lot of friends instead of lackeys,” Lyssa replied. “When you put your heads together and pool your efforts, you can do a lot. If you’re that impressed, why don’t you do me a favor and give up?”

She crept along the side of another container. The sorcery sensation intensified. Something glinted ahead. She jumped back and prepared to fire.

No attack came. Thin, shiny blades floated in the air and fanned out at the end of a container. Lyssa wasn’t sure what he was up to.

A whistling noise caught Lyssa’s attention from above, and she looked up just in time to see the two blades. By reflex, she swiped at one with her guns. It sparked as it slid down her pistols, but she deflected it. The other impaled her abdomen. She bit her tongue to keep from crying out.

Lyssa ran backward as another pair of blades shot up from the opposite side of the container and missed her by inches. Running with a sharp, pointed piece of enchanted metal sticking into her abdomen when she was already wounded and drained wasn’t high on Lyssa’s list of recommended activities for the day. She stayed in motion, every step jostling the blade and making the pain flare worse.

She continued her defensive dance until she assumed wraith form and ran around the corner. The edged onslaught stopped. Ensconced in wraith form in the long shadow of a container, she was barely visible, but her trail of blood wasn’t helping.

“When’s the last time you fought another Illuminated?” Adrien called. “I think you’ve gotten arrogant, Hecate. You’re too used to gunning down weak Shadows and relying on defenses that assume the other side doesn’t have true sorcery. Now, because of your miscalculation, you’re going to die.”

Despite the confidence in Adrien’s words, there was a ragged quality to his voice. The man might have had an impressive shard shield, but he’d pushed himself to the limit with his blade sorcery.

“When was the last time I fought an Illuminated?” Lyssa laughed. “I don’t know. What time is it?”

“We can make a deal. I’ll give you the information about your brother. I know you’re hurt. You can just lie and say I escaped. There’s nothing to be gained by fighting me and everything to lose.”

“In your current state,” Jofi began, “victory is not assured.”

“Winning never is,” Lyssa murmured. “But there’s no way he’s walking now.”

She pulled some more painkiller herbs out of her pocket and munched them. Samuel had better let her rest after it was all over.

There had been no explosions or gunfire for about a minute. The sirens had stayed distant, and flashing red and blue signaled a line of police at the far edges of the port.

Lyssa tried to decide her next move. There was no way Aisha would lose to a bunch of second-stringers using borrowed power. Waiting for the other Sorceress might be a good move, but she also might not be coming. Aisha might have taken Lyssa’s declaration as a desire for a beginning-to-end duel with the Sorcerer, or the flame Sorceress might be exhausted or unconscious and not able to join her.

There was no choice. Lyssa didn’t have time to wait for help, Illuminated or Shadow. It was time to