Southwest Truths (Semiautomatic Sorceress Book 3)

by Kal Aaron

  That left only one option. She needed to take him out there.

  Lyssa raised her pistols and pointed them toward the pool, seeking a target. She didn’t spot anyone except the same unconscious people. There were plenty of places, including the nearby rooms, for a man to hide.

  “What’s the deal?” she asked. “You’ve gone through a lot of effort to follow me, and you’ve done whatever the hell you’ve done to this place. There’s a plan here other than just killing me.”

  “Spirits are swallowing the sound in this entire area,” the voice replied. “We can fight to our heart’s content without anyone outside hearing anything. Don’t worry, it’ll last long enough for us to finish our business.”

  Lyssa laughed. “You don’t think they’re going to notice the giant dome of darkness sitting here? I’m not in the greatest part of town, but cops will show up, then they’ll call the EAA. The EAA will do an emergency high-threat scramble and more Torches will show up, along with the National Guard.”

  “I’ve put a lot of effort into preparing this battlefield, and I’ve thought of all the relevant concerns. All the Shadows nearby are unconscious. The sound is swallowed. The dome isn’t as you think. From the outside, they don’t see anything strange. A useful shard will make anyone traveling near here subconsciously want to avoid the area.”

  “That’s a nice trick.”

  “Eventually, an Illuminated might notice or sense the sorcery, but I’m willing to bet our fight will be over and we will be long gone, one way or another, before that unlikely event occurs.”

  Now closer to the pool, Lyssa confirmed there was active sorcery coming from that direction. She still couldn’t see anyone.

  “You don’t have to bother with your hiding spell,” the voice said. “I know you’re there.”

  Her stomach knotted, but she didn’t drop her soul blanket or wraith form. She hated Sorcerers with spirit essences. It was hard to get a handle on what they could do with enough time and preparation. It was a good thing they were rare.

  He said he knew she was there, but that wasn’t the same as knowing her exact location. She needed to be careful and not believe everything the enemy said.

  “If you know where I am, why don’t you just kill me already?” Lyssa asked. “You’re the one who showed up with a Santa’s bag full of shards and a horde of spirits.”

  “This isn’t about killing you,” the voice replied. “Not yet, anyway.”

  “Was it about killing Aisha? About killing Lubon? Lee?” Lyssa snorted. “I guess I should be honored you bothered to show up yourself to take me down rather than send a bunch of mercenaries with shards and special gear, but that doesn’t mean I won’t kill you.”

  Something was wrong. He’d let her run all the way to the room and arm up. Even with spells, he could see the magazines. That didn’t make tactical sense if he knew anything about her, and even less if he knew about Jofi.

  “There’s something I’m missing,” she whispered. “This guy let me get my showstoppers. I don’t care what weird plan or shards he has. He’s got to know he can’t survive me using more than one on him.”

  “I’m glad to see you’re anticipating using maximum force,” Jofi replied. “Our foe has an unusual ability to manipulate spirits. The number of spirits present suggests he is far stronger than the last man you faced with such an essence.”

  The comment further cemented in Lyssa’s mind the likely identity of her opponent. There was only one Sorcerer with a spirit essence who had a possible connection to her.

  Lyssa closed on the pool, pointing her guns at the water. She couldn’t see anything in the untreated muck, which made it an excellent place to hide.

  “You were ruthless when you killed those men at the ghost town,” the voice said. “Brutal.”

  Lyssa snorted. “They were trying to kill me. I gave them a chance to be smart, and they thought flares and tungsten bullets meant they didn’t have to worry. If you want me to apologize for it, keep dreaming. I owe you for Lubon.”

  “Do you?” The voice chuckled. “I wasn’t aware you two were close.”

  “He died watching my back. So you admit to killing him?”

  “Yes. I see no reason to lie to you.”

  “That little incident taught me something useful,” Lyssa replied. “It taught me you’re not that great one on one. Otherwise, you would have come after me after Aisha was taken out and you murdered Lubon. But sure, I owe you for nearly getting Aisha killed, too.”

  “Making too many assumptions can be dangerous.”

  “Maybe.” Lyssa circled the pool fence, trying to triangulate the exact position of the spell she sensed, but there was diffused sorcerous energy around most of the pool area. There was nothing out of the ordinary in the gray darkness. “If this is supposed to be about scaring me before you take me on, you should have done your research. I don’t frighten easily, but you know what I think?”

  “Please feel free to share.”

  “I think you’re bluffing,” Lyssa said, backing away from the pool. “I think you say you can see me, but you can’t, and you’ve thrown up so many spells on your little battleground that you can’t pick me out of the background. You might be able to pull an Ultrasound and track me down by voice, but it’s not enough.”

  “Then you intend to do, what? Wait?”

  “Something like that.” Lyssa glanced at the smoker. His chest still rose and fell. “I’m going to stall until your spells run out of power. Then I’m going to track you down and put a bullet in your brain to end all this.”

  The voice laughed. “You’re announcing your strategy?”

  “I’m that damned confident. What can I say? I guarantee I can hide out in the darkness a lot longer than you can maintain that dome.”

  “I see.” The voice sighed. “Then I’ll need to move this along. There are some things we need to talk about, and I can only spend so long probing your abilities.”

  Water flowed from the pool, coalescing into a legless form with two armlike projections. It slid over the ground toward the fence like a sort of hydro man. More hydro men appeared, producing a decent-sized group.

  “Caution,” Jofi said. “They aren’t purely a projection of direct sorcery. Spirits have infused the water.”

  They were moving, but not in her direction. Her soul blanket was holding.

  “I figured.” Lyssa backed away from the pool. “Physical damage will be enough to disrupt their manifestation,” she whispered. “We can do this. We’ve done it before. It’s just been a while.”

  The hydro men flowed through the fence, but they weren’t the only threat. The deckchairs at the pool twisted and wrenched to create four jointed metal legs and two sharp protrusions near the fronts of their makeshift bodies. They vaguely reminded Lyssa of dogs. Getting attacked by chair dogs might have been amusing if it hadn’t involved a spirit essence-using assassin who’d already killed an Eclipse.

  The chair dogs scampered up the fence and jumped over to join the hydro men. Compared to some of Lyssa’s recent jobs, let alone the mine, there wasn’t a huge number of enemies. She could handle the conjured lackeys as long as she stayed calm.

  Lyssa holstered her conventional pistol and ejected the penetrator magazine, placing it in her pocket and replacing it with explosive rounds. She couldn’t avoid damage to the motel, but keeping close to the pool and parking lot would save anyone else from getting hurt.

  “This isn’t about fear,” the voice said. “It’s an evaluation. I wanted to see firsthand how you’d react to this situation. You have a reputation in the Society, but reputations are flimsy things, coats of lies woven from dark gossamer threads that are easy to tear apart.”

  “What are you getting at?” Lyssa asked. “You think I’m all talk and no walk?”

  “No, no, no.” The voice sighed. “That’d be an idiotic conclusion. You’ve completed far too many tasks as a Torch for anyone to believe that, but I needed to know the truth behind the mask, Hec
ate.”

  His hydro men and the chair dog force didn’t advance. Lyssa wasn’t far from the pool. Given that she’d just seen the chair dogs move, closing the distance would have been easy.

  It was time for her to take control of the situation. Her newfound friend acted like he had the upper hand, but his army couldn’t even see her. A small reveal of her knowledge might throw him off balance.

  “Come on, Tristan,” Lyssa said. “Why all the games? Why the show?”

  “You think you know who I am?” the voice replied, sounding amused.

  “You’re Tristan St. James, Eclipse, bearer of the Snow Ghost regalia, and all-around badass,” Lyssa said. “If this was supposed to be a big surprise, you shouldn’t have used so many spirits. The big, bad Eclipse doesn’t know I have a spirit, too? I’ve known from the beginning spirits were involved with all this. Hell, you flat-out told me you’re using spirits.”

  It wasn’t the voice who spoke next, but Jofi. “Given what you’ve said in the past about this man, you should ready a showstopper.”

  “I see,” Tristan said. “I should have been more cautious. I didn’t intend to be so obvious, and I didn’t expect you’d have reason to think it was me.”

  Lyssa half-wondered if Tristan could hear Jofi speak, given his spirit essence and general ability. It didn’t matter. She loaded a showstopper into her other gun and holstered it.

  “Aren’t you going to kill me with your army?” Lyssa asked. “Or is it that you can’t find me? Not as impressive when you’re not surprising a man from behind?”

  “I’ve heard about your brutality and lethal reputation,” Tristan replied. The hollow and echoing quality disappeared, replaced by a quiet, deep, masculine voice. “But I’ve also heard something else. One might consider it a weakness.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You make extreme efforts to avoid injuries to innocent people.”

  Lyssa snorted, trying to throw him off. He couldn’t be allowed to think he had an advantage or any reason to threaten hostages. Lying cost her nothing.

  “You don’t know me that well,” she said. “Samuel does a good job of covering things up. He calls me Miss Collateral Damage.”

  “Oh?” Tristan let out a quiet laugh. “Is that so? There’s an easy way to discern the truth.”

  The hydro men sloshed toward the smoker while the chair dogs padded toward the housekeeper. “To attack someone is to bare your soul. It exposes you to the world. You can’t hide and fight.”

  Lyssa gritted her teeth. She couldn’t risk firing her explosive rounds so close to the unconscious victims. He’d left her only one choice.

  She jogged backward and dropped her wraith form and soul blanket. The hydro men and the chair dogs stopped their advance, turning toward her.

  Lyssa waved her gun. “Fine, Tristan. Bring it on. You want to test me? Time to see what Hecate can do.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The outside lights all clicked back on. It didn’t matter much to Lyssa, other than pointing to Tristan trying to conserve power. The change supported her earlier hypotheses about being able to wait him out. She didn’t want to take the bait, but he was right. She wouldn’t risk getting innocent people hurt.

  The dome of darkness remained around the motel, cutting them off from the rest of the world. No one would be coming to help her.

  No matter what she’d thought earlier, she needed to accept the truth. It was LA. Even if she called for help, it’d take them forever to get there.

  Lyssa walked backward, making her way toward the parking lot via the concrete sidewalk that passed in front of her room. The strange force Tristan had assembled didn’t move with great urgency, and she couldn’t shake the belief he was still playing with her. She was almost past her room when the hydro men and the chair dogs sped up.

  The absurdity of being attacked by weaponized furniture and pool water might make for a good story later, but at that moment, all she wanted was for them to move past the unconscious Shadows. Samuel hadn’t mentioned Tristan being willing to kill innocent people, but after what had happened with Aisha, Lyssa wasn’t willing to gamble with other people’s lives.

  Lyssa continued moving backward and kept her gun trained on the closest advancing enemy, a hydro man. He slithered across the surface, surprisingly not leaving any water behind as he closed in on his prey. The chair dogs moved to the sides of the hydro men. It was the finest in mixed-arms spirit platoons.

  “Why do I feel like I’m about to become the villain in the next Pixar film, Chairs?” Lyssa asked.

  The chair dogs rushed her as a group. She fired at the ground in the center of the formation. Her explosive round disintegrated the closest enemy, leaving nothing but flaming pieces and ripping two others apart. They twitched on the ground before they stopped moving. She didn’t know if destroying a chair possessed by a spirit counted as killing something. As far as she knew, it released the spirit but didn’t otherwise harm or damage it in any real way.

  Lyssas fired three more shots in rapid succession, sweeping her gun in an arc. Her blasts ensured the motel would need new deck chairs and grounds maintenance. The attacks left charred craters in the concrete and the dirt. Burning hedges surrounded the hole carved through the center by explosions. It was efficient destruction, her specialty.

  “Don’t bring chairs to a gunfight, St. James,” Lyssa shouted. “Did you think those things would take me down? I’m insulted.”

  The hydro men moved faster, their speed now close to a human jog, but she’d put enough distance between herself and the fluid enemies that it was trivial to produce another set of craters and defeated enemies. The blasts splashed water everywhere. Steam filled the air, leaving it humid. She wanted to throw out another taunt.

  Lyssa frowned. Something was wrong; it was too easy. Tristan St. James wouldn’t have the reputation he did if his attacks were trivial to defeat. What was he playing at?

  “Why don’t you stop with the attack of the evil pool crap and come out and face me directly?” Lyssa shouted. “Don’t you think this is getting boring?”

  “Is that even necessary?” Tristan replied. “I think I can whittle you down, Hecate. How many bullets can you possibly be carrying? Can you defeat my spirits with your batons and spells but not enchanted bullets?”

  Lyssa laughed. “I carry enough ammo to clear out a mine filled with monsters, including huge ones. I wouldn’t bet on outlasting me. Let’s not pretend that pushing spirits to manifest in our world doesn’t take energy, too.” She snorted. “How did you kill Lubon? You use a spirit for that, or did you just chop his head off with your knife? Sometimes it’s the personal touch that matters.”

  “Not everyone will answer your questions just because you ask.”

  She was close enough to the parking lot to make a sprint for her rental car but discarded the idea. Now that she knew who she was dealing with, her best chance of ending everything was to take him on there. Running risked all the unconscious people, given what he’d said.

  “Any idea how to wake these people up, Jofi?” Lyssa asked Jofi.

  “No,” he replied. “Your generation of loud explosions and their continued sleep suggests you’ll need to disable your opponent or locate and disable the shard responsible.”

  “That’s about where I’m at, too. Damn.”

  Sorcery pulsed beside her. Lyssa frowned. It was coming from her room.

  She stepped back and charged the window, smashing through. Glass flew everywhere and she hit the floor and rolled to her feet, ready to put an explosive round into Tristan St. James at point-blank range, even at risk to herself if it’d end this fight.

  There was no one in her room. The sorcery pressure grew.

  “What’s going—"

  A shockwave smashed into her and flung her against the wall, knocking the air out of her. A howl sounded, and air rushed past her. Twigs, rocks, and tiny pieces of concrete flowed into the center of the room in a swirling mass. The walls of her
room cracked, and the mirror shattered. Lyssa fell to one knee, gasping for breath. Her heart thundered. There was no air in the room to fill her empty lungs.

  She rushed to the door, threw it open, and ran outside. Two yards away, she inhaled newfound precious oxygen.

  Lyssa rushed toward the parking lot. Tristan wasn’t a god, but he was a skilled Sorcerer. She needed to give him less to work with by being smarter.

  Something crawled out of her broken window. Lyssa blinked, not sure what she was seeing. Coldness seeped into her body as uneven, juddering shapes slithered out of her room, rough tentacles, legs, arms, and hands appearing and disappearing. The area around them darkened as they moved, and loose debris and pebbles flowed into the shapes, disappearing like they were sucking up everything around them, including light. The forms continued to writhe and distort, constantly changing. As they moved forward, they scoured the concrete pathway.

  Lyssa’s heart thundered. She’d seen those before, or something very much like them, but not for about six years. They were materialized emptiness spirits.

  “Those spirits are extremely dangerous,” Jofi said. “You should flee.”

  There was something in his tone, a genuine emotion: panic mixed with anger. Lyssa took a deep breath. They weren’t grand emptiness spirits. She could still win, but every second she spent fighting them risked Jofi’s seal.

  Lyssa finished her run to the parking lot. Two emptiness spirits emerged from her room, but she was having a hard time judging their size because of their continual shifting. She lined up a shot, aimed at the ground in front of one, and fired.

  The explosion blasted up concrete and dirt, which swirled into the emptiness spirit and disappeared. The spirit slid forward, not reacting to the shot.

  “You will be unable to defeat them using your weapons,” Jofi said, his tone growing strident. “You should retreat.”

  Lyssa emptied her magazine, creating a nice, long ditch in the walkway but not slowing the advancing spirits. They crawled along, reaching a car. The spirits advanced without pouring over it, and everything except a thin slice in the middle disappeared into the pure darkness at their center.