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And stop calling me a bruja. I’m not a damned witch.” She gestured with her free hand toward her head. “See? I don’t have the damned hat.”

“You—”

Lyssa cut him off with a trigger pull. The bullet blasted through his chest with a bright flash, leaving a huge hole where flesh and bone had been. He opened his mouth to speak, but only a quiet croak came out. Alvarez fell to his knees with shock on his face before collapsing forward.

“Having a couple of toys doesn’t make you better than a Sorceress,” Lyssa snarled. She grabbed her other gun and holstered them both.

Her gaze lingered on Alvarez. The penetrator bullet had done its work well, enhanced by Jofi’s passive power.

She sighed. “I’d say I earned some more ice cream.”

Chapter Six

Lieutenant Lopez spoke quietly with the newly arrived FBI agents, scowling at Lyssa between sentences. She ignored him as she talked to Damien and leaned against her bike, glad the mask protected her identity. The news locusts were out in force.

Damien’s earlier antimedia efforts had collapsed before the power of First Amendment inevitability, leaving a street choked with news vans and reporters chatting in front of their cameramen. Three news helicopters now circled the area, along with tiny drones. Besides the professional reporters, twenty-something and teenage wannabe internet stars ran around the edges with their selfie sticks, trying to get reaction shots and fulfilling Damien’s prophecy.

A huge crowd of curious onlookers only interested in watching the story unfold added to the chaos. The police had set up cones. Uniformed officers kept curious locals and reporters back with the occasional stern rebuke or threat.

Lyssa glanced at the sun, which had barely moved. That pissed her off. It was like the sun was mocking her.

All the tension and concentration of the fight inside didn’t change that it had been a battle marked in minutes, not hours. It’d only taken as long as it had because of her restraint.

The conscious survivors of Lyssa’s attack knelt on the lawn, cops on guard around them. Many of the criminals remained unconscious, bruised, and bloodied. EMTs walked up and down the rows of men to triage and apply first aid. Some were being carried on stretchers toward waiting ambulances, bandages on their heads or arms. Non-lethal force didn’t mean harmless.

She didn’t care. Even ignoring their other crimes, they’d had plenty of chances of surrender, but they’d convinced themselves the shards would help them win. The price of their arrogance was a trip to the hospital.

That covered the living. The police hadn’t removed any of the dead bodies from the home, including Alvarez’s. There were detectives and FBI agents already inside, inspecting things and looking for evidence.

She wasn’t needed anymore. They hadn’t hired her to investigate Alvarez and the cartel.

No one had taken a statement from her beyond a couple of quick questions. They expected Damien to file a report he’d pass along to all the relevant agencies. It cut down on the complications from both ends.

Lyssa’s leg ached. She shifted position to take the weight off it.

Damien gestured at her leg. “Now that everything’s calmed down, you want someone to take a look at that? You’ve got a lot of holes in your outfit. They must have lit you up in there.”

“I’m fine.” Lyssa shrugged. “They got lucky a few times by throwing hundreds of bullets and some shards at me. Nothing big.”

“If you say so.” Damien’s gaze lingered on the wound. “I’ve seen you get torn up before. You keep on coming back, but you’re not immortal.”

“Says you.” Lyssa flexed. “People should learn not to mess with a goddess, and they won’t get their asses handed to them.”

“I’m not some hick. I know what you’re capable of.” Damien chuckled. “And I’d love to believe we had an immortal super-weapon on our side. Forget it. You cleared out a house filled with guns and shards and walked out. That’s a lot better than we could have done without your help. And since no one’s said it yet, I’ll say it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Lyssa was annoyed at the wounds for a reason she didn’t want to say out loud. Active healing spells were beyond her capabilities. Her regalia accelerated the healing process and would regenerate itself, but that just meant she’d have to keep it on for a while.

For all its disguise and shape-changing capabilities, there were limits to its power. There was no way it would feel as good as a nice, loose nightgown.

It would be a long night. She could supplement her healing with enchanted herbs, also courtesy of Tricia, but she’d taken too much damage to avoid discomfort for a day or two.

“So, uh,” Damien began, “now that the thanks are out of the way, there’s something we need to talk about. Unless you have somewhere to go.”

“Spit it out,” Lyssa said. “I have an appointment at this lovely place called my house.”

“Not the Hecate Cave?”

“Very funny.”

Damien inclined his head toward Lopez with an uncomfortable look on his face. “The lieutenant’s arguing you went overboard. The FBI isn’t keen that you gunned down Alvarez. They really, really wanted to work him for their investigation.”

“They’ve got plenty of people left alive.” Lyssa shrugged. “And I was being attacked with shards. If you consider how many people were attacking me, I didn’t kill a lot. The lackeys will know other higher-ranking guys and will have seen things.”

“I know that.” Damien looked uneasy. “But they wanted the big fish. I’m not saying I agree with them, but as a liaison, I’m trying to make the other agencies’ positions clear to our Society contractor.”

“Oh, I see.” Lyssa folded her arms. “The FBI thinks I was supposed to sit there and let Alvarez cave my head in with his shard-enhanced strength.” She shrugged. “Next time, make that clearer. I didn’t realize Sorceresses needed to die to make sure the FBI has an easier investigation.”

“It’s going to be a lot of paperwork for them, and also for me. We have to

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