Courts and Cabals 2 by G.S. D'Moore (best novel books to read .txt) 📕

“Yep, definitely tweaked something,” I groaned as I tried to stand.

“Your filth will not be tolerated here, invader,” the woman’s voice carried like she was used to giving intimidating speeches.

It made me cringe as I got back to my feet. My knees wobbled, but they held.

“I don’t know what your issue is, lady,” I heaved myself out of the trench and rolled back onto level ground. She was taking her time advancing on me. Now that I was defenseless – my sword and shield were gone; she must have destroyed them while I was out cold – she seemed to take pleasure in taking her time.

I could use that to my advantage. The first lesson that Xamira taught me, Peter reminded me of, and Lark continued to drill into me was that anything and everything was a weapon. I looked around for something to improvise with, and found something.

“When in doubt, throw a car at them,” I grinned.

“Can we talk about this?” I played for time as I put a couple of cars between her and me before selecting my target.

Everyone who had half a brain had cleared the fuck out, so I wasn’t going to hurt anyone; just fuck up someone’s insurance premium. I don’t know if supernatural fights are covered in someone’s usual auto plan.

“There is no negotiating with your kind,” she spat; casually walking around cars like she was on her way to visit the zoo. “You assimilate. You destroy. You’ve ruined your home realm and now you’re coming for ours. I will not let you leave here alive.”

“You know,” I worked quickly to avoid raising any suspicion. “This would be a lot more informative if I had any idea what the hell you were talking about.”

Her face screwed up in confusion as she rounded the next to last car, and into my field of fire.

“Catch bitch!” I yelled.

Here’s a little tip. Those Superman cartoons on Saturday morning are a load of horseshit. The man of steel casually picking up cars and throwing them at Brainiac couldn’t be farther from the truth. You can’t just grip the side of a car and pick it up. Newsflash, cars aren’t designed for people to pick them up. To pick them up, you’ve got to leverage part of it off the ground, get beneath it, get a central hold on the frame, and then gently lift it and ensure you use equal force so parts of the vehicle don’t simply tear off. As you could expect, I didn’t have time to do that against my attacker.

So, I did the next best thing. I popped the hood, karate chopped hoses, intakes, and whatever else was connected to the big block of metal at the center. I got a firm, two-handed grip on the engine and ripped it out of the car. Even with my Fae strength, I couldn’t chuck the hunk of metal like a football. Instead, I raised it above my head and threw it at her like it was a medicine ball. It barreled at her at around sixty miles an hour; not half bad for something that weighed over three hundred pounds.

This time, I felt the pulse of magic as her staff blazed red. She moved to the side well in advance of the engine reaching her. My smile fell, and my body screamed for me to move as I realized what was about to happen. She wound up with her staff for the second time, and swung at the engine like I’d just lobbed her a softball.

Her staff and the engine connected with a crack that shattered windows for half a block, but I had other things on my mind than raining glass. She must have played professionally because the engine came rocketing back at me at nearly twice the speed. With only a few dozen feet between us, I didn’t have nearly enough time to move. The metal block clipped my bad shoulder and searing pain nearly made me black out again. It spun me around and smashed me against the nearest car; leaving a deep, human-shaped dent.

She just laughed as I pulled myself back to my feet, and kept coming.

“Fuck this!” I determined Lark’s advice on ambushes was a load of shit. I turned and ran.

I heard something screaming through the air, and thankfully my foot snagged the concrete lip of the sidewalk at just the right moment. I half fell, half rolled forward as something hot streaked over my head and set a Sbarro sign ablaze. I thanked my lucky stars, scrambled to my feet, took a second to find purchase on the glass shards covering everything, and streaked down the sidewalk at a Fae-powered sprint.

“Move! Get the fuck out of the way! Stop live streaming and run, bitch!” I yelled. No more streaks of fire tried to barbeque me as I ran, but that might have been because I entered the gaggle of lookie-loos.

I made it to the corner without incident, whipped around it, and let out a high-pitched, very unmanly scream. Flopping toward me, tentacles flashing and rows of jagged teeth chomping, was what would happen if a Hollywood B movie had sex with hentai and made a baby.

Someone else yelled it, but it fit the creature directly in front of me perfectly. “Sharktopus!” People screamed and ran.

Tentacles lashed out at random. There were over a dozen, so it wasn’t technically an octopus; but that didn’t mean shit to the guy who’d yelled it as he was scooped up, and tossed into the creature’s maw. I heard the squish of him being eviscerated; his screams abruptly silenced. Then the creature’s face turned to me . . . and grinned. I saw intelligence in those eyes, and a spike of familiar magic.

“Fae,” I gulped and tried to run back the way I came. My