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

the same thing as being able to blow her away from a distance with a surprise attack.

The sorcery pressure remained constant. What that implied about potential shards couldn’t be discovered without more information, but it did mean she could track the source with the help of triangulation.

Lyssa crept sideways, moving yards away from the window and paying close attention to the feeling in her chest. A return trip sent her past the original window and into the back. She now had a decent bearing on her target.

Whatever the power source, it lay inside the warehouse, most likely in one of the crates or behind the column. Her viewing angle from the windows produced a blind spot.

Someone could be waiting there, or it could be big, powerful stuff waiting to be sold. There was only one way to find out.

The chances of the location being an innocent warehouse had dropped nearly to zero in her mind. Owning a shard wasn’t technically illegal, but there was no way a random warehouse in Midland would have one sitting in a crate when said building had come up in a conversation discussing an organized crime group specializing in smuggling. The universe didn’t have that sick a sense of humor.

Lyssa spread her arms and took a breath as she tried to decide her next move. Bashing through a door would be easy, but it was guaranteed to trip an alarm. Slicing the bars and going through the windows was another possibility, but that also could signal a nearby Sorcerer. She remained unconvinced she was only sensing shards, but the steady level of power pointed to that possibility.

A moment of consideration turned into a plan and a chant. Thinning would scream power to anyone who could sense it, but she was willing to gamble that this was another Alvarez situation. There might be a rogue Sorcerer, but he wasn’t hiding behind a column in this Midland warehouse.

Lyssa flowed through the window and released the spell, then took a moment to catch her breath. Passing through tight passages always strained her. Her spells and the deep shadows of the unlit warehouse floor guaranteed her invisibility.

She reached into a pocket and pulled out her batons. The wraith form swallowed the click when she expanded them. She didn’t enchant them with her strength or knockout spells, figuring kneecapping a gangster would be enough to take him out. It was a mostly empty building, not a house filled with men who were ready to fight.

The soft overlapping ticks of large clocks echoed through the room. She continued forward, paying close attention to the increasing pressure she felt. The source was close.

About a quarter of the way into the room, Lyssa stopped, her heart pounding. She walked to the left and then to the right. Something didn’t feel right. She craned her neck upward, hoping to find a shard hanging above her.

“This was easier than I thought, friend.” The mocking voice came from above her. “And here I believed this was going to be a wasted night.”

Lyssa sucked in a breath. The voice was sultry, young, female, and spoke elegant English with a touch of a Hindi accent. It wasn’t an innate talent for linguistics that let her pick out the detail, just simple recognition.

Perfect. Just damned perfect. Of all the people she could have run into that night, why did it have to be that woman?

Blinding balls of white-hot fire shot out from behind the column and spread throughout the room. They hovered a yard off the floor, bathing the room in an eerie, flickering light.

“You can hide,” the woman shouted. “But I know you’re here. I’ll burn you out if necessary.” A sinister laugh followed. “And thank you. You’ve saved me the trouble of having to track you down before I kill you, Hecate.”

Chapter Twenty-One

After the ball lanterns flew out, the pressure intensified again. Lyssa jumped backward instinctively. A flash preceded two fireballs blasting from near the roof behind the column. The fireballs curved mid-flight to head straight toward her. A leap to the side saved her from a direct hit, and the spells exploded in bright flashes. The shockwave knocked her off her feet and disrupted her wraith form. She jumped up, growling.

Whatever doubts she’d had about her conversation partner being a rogue vanished. Honest Torches didn’t attempt to murder other Torches with surprise attacks.

Flickering light spilled from the top of the column. The Sorceress responsible for the attack floated away from the back of the column and revealed herself. A bright aura surrounded her.

Four flaming wings extended from her back, and white-hot jets of fire flowed down from the tips, supporting her in the air. Her regalia consisted of a loose high-slit dress dominated by red with patches of saffron and yellow throughout, marking out glyphs. A golden mask covered the top of her face, leaving patches of her smooth brown skin exposed. Her glowing yellow- and red-streaked hair fluttered as if it were in a wind, resembling the flames behind her. Gold bangles adorned her ankles, and gold bracelets ran up half her arms.

There was no mistaking her. It was Aisha Khatri the Fire Deva, bearer of the Flame Goddess regalia. Of all the people Lyssa had expected to run into when hunting a rogue, Aisha was at the absolute bottom of the list.

This couldn’t be happening. Even Lyssa’s luck couldn’t be that bad. She’d had issues with Aisha in the past, but she couldn’t believe the woman had turned a family feud into a betrayal of the Society.

She didn’t want to believe it, but Aisha had tossed fireballs at her. The evidence was in.

Aisha’s earlier spells had killed most of the ground-floor darkness in the warehouse. Wraith form or thinning would be risky anyway because of her guided fireballs and the concentration required. The woman knew Lyssa’s capabilities far too well. This would be a hard fight.

“I recommend maximum force,” Jofi said. “Miss Khatri has already demonstrated an extreme willingness to kill you.