Shadow Duel (Prof Croft Book 9) by Brad Magnarella (ereader with android .txt) 📕

An appendage lashed out, quick as a frog’s tongue, and wrapped his leg. Before I could cleave it with my sword, it retracted. One moment Bree-yark was standing beside me, and in the next, he was over the pond, his work boots planted on either side of the creature’s yawning mouth, which bristled with fangs.

“Everson!” he barked.

I invoked a shield around myself an instant before another appendage arrived and thumped against it.

“Hang tight!” I called, digging into a coat pocket.

But two more of the creature’s tentacles were already wrapping Bree-yark. One immobilized his arms, pinning his blade to his side. The other circled his legs. Bree-yark grunted, straining to keep his feet from being pulled together and into the creature’s mouth. Beyond its fangs, a purple tongue lurched back and forth.

“Protezione!” I shouted.

Bree-yark’s legs faltered and his feet came together, but a wall of hardened air now spanned the creature’s mouth. Denied its meal, the creature threw a thrashing tantrum that involved waving Bree-yark around. I clutched a vial of ice crystals, searching for an opening while trying to reassure Bree-yark help was coming.

There!

With a pair of Words, I dispersed the creature’s muzzle and shot the vial into its mouth. As the vial slammed the back of its throat, I shouted, “Ghiaccio!”

The creature let out half a gagging noise before the released magic froze its convulsing throat muscles. The crystals worked quickly, growing frost over the creature’s hide and films of ice over its many eyes. The tentacles went herky-jerky and then turned into rigid statues. I splashed into the pond as the entire creature began to tip. With hacks of my sword, I shattered the tentacles holding Bree-yark.

“Thank the—gaaawds!” he shouted.

Falling from the creature’s grip, he broke through the sheet of ice spreading around us. I grabbed the back of his overalls and pulled him, sputtering, from the water. We landed in a flower bed and lay panting.

“What in the blazes was that?” he managed.

“No idea. But it could explain Sunita’s disappearance.”

At that moment, the back door to the house opened, and the missing woman stepped onto the deck in a bathrobe, her hair wrapped in a towel. She looked from us to the pond creature as she padded down the steps on bare feet.

“I am so sorry,” she said.

Bree-yark glowered at her. “That monstrosity is yours?”

“An early experiment gone awry,” the bioengineer said. “I didn’t have the heart to destroy him, so I took him home, and he started growing. He’s really protective of the house. I wish you’d told me you were coming.”

“I tried to call, but you must have been in the shower,” I said. “Sorry about your … experiment.” I gestured toward the frost-covered creature, half capsized in a thick layer of ice.

Sunita’s story reminded me a lot of Tabitha. I hadn’t been able to destroy her as a little one either. And as much as the full-grown cat got on my nerves, I knew the devastation I’d feel if I ever found her like this. But Sunita surprised me by waving a hand.

“No worries. His tissue was engineered to survive deep freezes. He’ll be fine once he thaws, though it may take another week for the appendages to grow back.”

“Great,” Bree-yark muttered.

“You’re a magic-user?” she said to me.

“I am,” I admitted. “I’m also the reason you have police protection. Is there someplace we can talk?”

Twenty minutes later, we were sitting in her living room. Sunita was the one dressed now, while Bree-yark and I wore towel skirts as our clothes tumble-dried in the laundry room. Chilled from my ice attack, Bree-yark clutched a steaming mug of Darjeeling tea in both hands. Tabitha sat on the couch beside him. She was under no-talking orders, and her slitted eyes peered around critically.

“So you think Bear and Robert were killed because they’re Discovery Society fellows?” Sunita asked after I’d given her the rundown.

“I do. Someone wanted their organs—for what purpose we don’t know yet. Does the Discovery Society have any rituals, anything that goes back to its beginnings? To do with gods, maybe, or patrons?”

She shook her head. “If anything we’ve become more scientific as an organization.”

Remembering Walter Mims’s dry lecture from the night before, I nodded and struck off my theory that a ritual had endowed their organs with special properties.

“Whoever did this has access to the club,” I continued. “The perp slipped both victims a liquid. Might even have happened in the lounge, where I understand fellows and members mingle? The liquid bound them to alternate versions of themselves. Versions the perpetrator was able to attack with impunity.”

“Good thing I don’t drink,” Sunita said with a hollow laugh.

She touched the protective pin on her shirt. I had guessed she was already somewhat versed, or at least accepting, of the esoteric, and that seemed to be bearing out so far. Her expression remained serious.

“The liquid isn’t in you,” I reassured her. “My hunting spell would have told me. But I want to give you something.” I drew one of the two amulets I’d prepared from my satchel. “Until we catch the perpetrator, I want you to wear this at all times. The gem will glow if you come within fifteen feet of the liquid in question. It will also alert me. Check it before you eat or drink anything, okay?”

She nodded as she accepted the amulet and fastened it around her neck. Beyond her professional veneer, I caught a glimpse of the grief she must have been feeling over the death of Bear, her former lover. If she was the perp, she was doing a damned good acting job to portray that kind of nuance.

She recomposed herself as she sat back again. “Do you have any suspects?”

“I was actually about to ask if you’d noticed anything odd lately,” I said. “About the club, it’s members? Anyone new hanging around?”

“I hate to name names,” she said, “but I saw you sitting with Ludvig Lassgard at the meeting last night. His ancestry goes back