Southwest Days (Semiautomatic Sorceress Book 2) by Kal Aaron (best book recommendations TXT) 📕

“I need some real hobbies,” she mumbled.

Tricia had it easy. Her hobby overlapped with her essence and interests. A lifetime of Torch training had left Lyssa less primed for something casual. Most of her free time as a child and an adult had been focused on becoming faster, better, and more lethal to take down threats of similar magnitude.

There was only so much she could do with that when she was not on a job. She couldn’t compete in sport martial arts. Her techniques were designed to cripple and kill with maximum efficiency. MMA competitions had rules and limits.

Using her enchanted ammo for amusement was a waste of money and Serafina’s time. She couldn’t risk using a showstopper for anything less than saving her own or other people’s lives.

Shaking her head, Lyssa stopped to take in a Halloween costume display. Contrary to what a lot of Shadows believed, the average Illuminated didn’t love the holiday. Rumors and legends about the barrier between worlds being thinner on Halloween held a kernel of truth, which meant potential trouble with spirits.

The Illuminated Society didn’t control the human world, but they had significant influence. In contrast, they barely understood or influenced the spirit world.

Lyssa didn’t mind Halloween. She didn’t worry much about spirits coming for her with Jofi on her side, so she welcomed the chance to ingratiate herself with the neighborhood. Maintaining loose and friendly connections with her neighbors would help her later.

There were less than two weeks until the big day. She’d already loaded up on candy, unsure of how many kids might come to her door. Next year when she didn’t have so much distracting her, she’d have to consider an elaborate yard display.

“I wonder what the HOA allows?” Lyssa looked around the display. “At least some things never change.”

She snickered at a sample of the adult costumes hanging from a rack: a sexy angel, a sexy princess, and a sexy Grim Reaper. A woman who wore a regalia daily didn’t need or want a costume, and Hecate didn’t need to be sexy. Intimidating was better in her line of work.

“Hey,” Lyssa muttered, narrowing her eyes at the Grim Reaper costume. “Wait a second.”

The costume included a long coat over a black shirt and pants and a rather familiar-looking mask. The package depicted the Grim Reaper holding two pistols, though it did note in small print “prop pistols not included.” A black and gray chopper was in the background.

The costume’s shirt presented new advances in the realm of absolute cleavage display, and the pleather pants were super-tight in the picture. The busty model also wore heels instead of boots.

Even so, the resemblance to Lyssa’s Night Goddess regalia was unmistakable. It was also hard to ignore that Grim Reapers weren’t typically depicted with dual pistols rather than scythes.

Sexy Hecate. It was inevitable.

I wonder if I can sue somebody for unlicensed use of an image? She needs to take some weight off the front if she wants more mobility in a fight. Her back would be killing her after too many jumps and flips with those puppies.

She’d come to the store because she needed ice cream and a couple of other things, but she’d also wanted time to process what she’d heard about her brother without Jofi butting in and trying to reason everything away in that painfully calm tone of his.

Insisting to Caroline and Tricia that the message was a lie or a trick didn’t make that reality. Lyssa suspected a conspiracy but didn’t know for certain, or even worse, she might have been too late, and the message wasn’t a lie.

Lyssa wandered past the sexy illegal use of her image and continued her quest for ice cream. She couldn’t worry about what might happen. Not doing anything now when she’d made progress after so many years wasn’t an option. The only way to find out the truth was to pursue it.

The truth might set her on another path, one of vengeance. She was prepared for that. Someone would pay for taking what was left of her family from her. She’d force the truth into the light if she had to swim to Last Remnant and throttle every Sorcerer there.

She smiled as she arrived at the ice cream. Jackpot. There was a buttload of different strawberry varieties. At least some things in life weren’t complicated.

Lyssa hummed quietly as she walked back to her bike, feeling more at peace with what she needed to do. She swung her bag of ice cream, butter, and bread back and forth.

She was ready to go home and send a message to Samuel to demand he send her assignments. It wasn’t like he didn’t need the help. There’d been at least two incidents close to her area of responsibility in the last month that he’d assigned to other Torches. And there were a couple of others she’d heard rumors about that she suspected should have been assigned to her.

Lyssa slowed with a frown. A large man in a grimy white t-shirt crouched near her bike. He pulled a small screwdriver from his back pocket, whistling a merry tune.

She’d spent all that time calming herself, and some idiot had to come and ruin her night. At least she had a convenient target for her frustration. No one could complain about a woman protecting her bike.

Lyssa cleared her throat loudly and set her bag down. There was no reason to get her ice cream and bread involved in the incident. They hadn’t done anything to anyone.

The man looked her way with a smirk. “Keep walking. You don’t want any part of this.”

“I can’t do that,” Lyssa replied, gesturing at the Ducati. “That’s my bike, asshole.”

He held out his hand. “Then give me the keys. I don’t want to damage anything. Let’s make this easy for both of us.”

“Are you serious?” Lyssa laughed. “We’re in the parking lot of a grocery store, and that’s an expensive bike. Even if I gave you my keys, I’d