Southwest Nights (Semiautomatic Sorceress Book 1) by Kal Aaron (large ebook reader txt) 📕

world, they’d forgotten how impressive soft power and cultural influence could be. Humanity had enough weapons. They could always use more joy.

“What parade?” Lyssa asked.

Time had flown by in recent weeks, but Labor Day had come and gone. She couldn’t think what else might be happening in September that would be worth watching on TV, not that she paid attention to much other than the news and her reality shows.

“The First Annual Sorcerer Appreciation Day parade in downtown San Diego,” Tricia said with a warm smile. “Originally they wanted it to be on M-Day, but it got delayed for various reasons.”

“’Sorcerer Appreciation Day?’” Lyssa tried to picture what that might involve but failed. “What’s the point? There’s only a handful of Sorcerers in all of California, and it’s not like most of them, including you, would publicly reveal their identity. They might get lucky and get one Sorcerer to show up in regalia.”

“It’s pointless.” Fred gave a firm nod. “A waste of money.”

“It’s not pointless, dear.” Tricia wagged a finger. “Somebody needs to say something nice. I think it’s good we have that sort of thing, especially after all those ACSS protests in the last few months.” She laughed. “And I think a lot of people just like dressing up in costumes. They do that at that big comic convention anyway, and have been doing it since long before M-Day. Why not take advantage of the spirit of fun to get more people on our side?”

“I’m not going to stick around for the parade.” Lyssa offered her an apologetic look. “I’ve got work.”

Tricia squeezed her hand. “We’ll always be here for you on this day. You know that, Lyssa.” She smiled. “We’re going to watch the parade on TV anyway. But if you’re not staying the night, let’s make sure we spend as much time together as we can.” A timer dinged, and she looked toward the kitchen. “Time to eat.”

The three sat at a small dining room table, working on the soup and drinking strong sweet wine. Fred watched both women as Lyssa chatted about adjusting to life in the Phoenix area.

Glorious umami packed the soup. Each mouthful offered balanced seasoning, and although Lyssa discovered new subtle hints of flavor with each bite, there was none of the bizarre experience from her last visit, where one of Tricia’s experiments had ended with a fruit salad that changed from tasting like lemons in one bite to spaghetti in another.

“The temperature’s the big adjustment over there.” Lyssa grimaced. “I know it’s not going to be so bad in a few months, but it’s hard to spend so many years here and then go to a place where it’s hot even at night. I’ve set up spells to cheat a little, but it’s still annoying.”

Tricia chuckled politely. “You could always move back. We’d love to have you closer. It’s nice not to have to use a ritual when you’re trying to stop over for a quick bite.”

Lyssa shook her head. “It was better to get away from California. I’ve annoyed too many people here, and remember, it wasn’t exactly my choice. Samuel all but ordered me to move. I think it’s about overall coverage.”

“Coverage?” Tricia looked confused.

“He doesn’t need as many Torches in California,” Lyssa explained. “You know how it goes.”

Tricia’s smile dimmed for a second. She never could fully accept Lyssa working as a Torch, but she never tried to forbid her, either. It didn’t matter if she wasn’t her mother or Fred, her father. They were the closest thing she had to a family after being left alone at fifteen.

Lyssa ladled more soup into her mouth, taking time to savor the flavor and let some of the tension from the last comment fade. Jofi was always silent when she visited the Bennetts. He’d answer if called, but he appreciated what spending time with the couple meant to her.

At least, Lyssa assumed he did. She’d not asked him directly because it had never occurred to her to do that, and the less Tricia and Fred knew about Jofi, the safer it’d be for them.

Lee’s words lingered in her mind. He’d been right about one thing. Jofi might “talk” to her, but that didn’t make him human. No matter how human a spirit seemed, it was a fundamentally different entity—a crystallization of a concept, not a lifeform.

“Your flowers and trees are looking nice,” Lyssa said, trying to distract herself from her brooding.

Tricia’s bright smile returned. “I always feel bad when we get a visitor and they ask me to share my gardening secrets. I feel so devious.”

“It’d blow their mind if you told them you’re a Sorceress with a plant essence.” Lyssa grinned. “Though that sounds a lot less threatening than living next to a darkness essence.”

“Our essences don’t define us.”

Lyssa laughed. “Sorry, Tricia. Of course they do. That’s why they’re called essences. It’s also why I have the Night Goddess regalia, and you have the Sacred Flower Bearer.”

Fred grunted in slight disapproval. Lyssa offered an apologetic smile, but her point stood. Her foster parents lived a different lifestyle from her.

Tricia looked away. “Never mind.”

Fred set his spoon down. “Thank you for the food, honey.” He departed without another word, escaping not into the living room but to a bedroom.

Lyssa tensed. Fred didn’t like conflict, especially between Lyssa and Tricia. It made sense because he wasn’t a Sorcerer.

Having been raised in an all-Illuminated family, it had taken Lyssa a while to understand how uncomfortable Fred was with inserting himself into their arguments. He couldn’t even claim any hint of Lemurian blood.

Pure Shadows marrying Illuminated was always difficult, even post-M-Day. The Society preferred to strengthen what little of the Lemurian blood was left, even if it meant relying on old bloodlines that hadn’t produced a Sorcerer in generations.

While it hadn’t been forbidden for Illuminated to marry pure Shadows for millennia, a stigma remained. Lyssa hadn’t cared about it, but she knew both Fred and Tricia had been forced to deal with