by TR Cameron
Spell Street Swing
Scions of Magic™ Book Five
TR Cameron
Michael Anderle
Martha Carr
This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.
Copyright © 2020 TR Cameron & Michael Anderle
Cover Art by Jake @ J Caleb Design
http://jcalebdesign.com / [email protected]
Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing
A Michael Anderle Production
LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
LMBPN Publishing
PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy
Las Vegas, NV 89109
First US edition, February 2020
ebook ISBN: 978-1-64202-764-8
Print ISBN: 978-1-64202-765-5
The Oriceran Universe (and what happens within / characters / situations / worlds) are Copyright (c) 2017-20 by Martha Carr and LMBPN Publishing.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Author Notes - TR Cameron
Author Notes - Martha Carr
Other series in the Oriceran Universe:
Other LMBPN Publishing Books
Connect with The Authors
The Spell Street Swing Team
Thanks to the JIT Readers
Diane L. Smith
Dave Hicks
Larry Omans
Dorothy Lloyd
Nicole Emens
Jeff Eaton
Deb Mader
If I’ve missed anyone, please let me know!
Editor
Skyhunter Editing Team
Dedication
For those who seek wonder around every corner and in each turning page. And, as always, for Dylan and Laurel.
— TR Cameron
Chapter One
Caliste Leblanc tripped over a protruding pipe and barely managed to stop herself before she toppled over the edge. The sight of the street three stories below triggered a spike of icy fear in her stomach. She crouched to catch her breath and cursed the setting sun for hiding the offending projection from view. Neither the fall nor the foul language was perhaps appropriate for the nineteen-year-old matriarch of House Leblanc, one of the nine noble houses of New Atlantis, but who gave a damn?
Tanyith Shale, ex-prisoner and her sometimes investigation and battle partner, laughed softly. “Graceful.”
“Shut it.” She pushed her long red curls out of her face and tucked them behind her ears. “This is all your fault, anyway.”
He shook his head. In the last few weeks, he’d returned to the look he claimed was normal for him—brown hair buzzed on the sides and piled high on the top of his skull, jeans, t-shirt, hoodie, and big black army boots.
It looks good on him. She chuckled. The elderly are so hip these days. In truth, he was only seven or eight years older than her. She could never remember which and it didn’t really matter since he was essentially ancient either way.
His voice was low and he gestured to the street below. “We both wanted more information on the Atlantean gang’s drug trade. So technically, it’s also your fault.”
“I’m not the one who’s taking care of an errand for the Malniets.”
“Okay, that’s a fair point.”
She grinned. “You’re giving up awfully easy. It’s not like you. Did Kendra tire you out or something?” She gave him an eyebrow waggle that suggested naughtiness.
He twisted his back as if to ease it. “No, but being sore all the time does. I don’t know what I did to myself in New Atlantis, but it sucks.”
“It could be anything. It was a long swim, plus the fight against the octopus.” She shuddered at the memory. After the Kraken attack, she’d begun to dislike the sea creatures. Once the second massive tentacled beast targeted them, it had become an outright phobia.
“Sure. Anyway, they’re moving.”
Cali snapped her gaze to the people they were tracking. Three Atlantean gang members had taken a route to one of the streets that were a known distribution point for Shine, the drug they’d developed to entice humans in New Orleans. The black backpack on the lone female of the group appeared to be full of product.
Once the three had moved out of sight, she used a blast of force magic to launch herself to the next rooftop across the street and one story down. It wasn’t an issue to allow them a small lead as the Draksa who had adopted her flew above to keep an eye on things. When she thought of him, he delivered a flow of amusement over the magical channel that connected their minds.
“Don’t get too full of yourself,” she sent. “It’s not like I chose you to be my life partner. That was all you.” More mirth confirmed his understanding of her joke. The truth was, though, the pairing seemed like destiny or fate. Each day, their connection strengthened, although he still could only send emotion. She feared the moment when the dragon lizard would be able to actually respond with real words through this bond.
Tanyith landed on the black surface beside her and scattered small stones in a circle around him, but the soft sound was thankfully lost in the noise that filtered from the streets below. They darted across the roof and reacquired their targets. The road the gang members had moved onto was a one-way lane that ran parallel to the main routes. Even the bigger roadways at the fringes of the French Quarter weren’t that big, although there was a fair amount of foot traffic—more than one would expect if they were unaware that it was essentially a shopping mall for illicit goods and services. Occasional cars parked on both sides of the street evidenced various states of disrepair.
“A shopping mall with a hot new store in town,” she muttered under her breath as she watched the trio separate. The woman with the backpack took her position on the front steps of a house with black bars over the windows and a matching metal grate over the elegant entry door. One of the two men wandered up and down the street to interact with potential customers in what was clearly a well-practiced routine. The other lingered nearby to manage either money or delivery. “Don’t they usually have another person?” she whispered.
Her partner nodded where he crouched beside her. “Yeah. They must have more
business than they can handle if they’ve spread themselves this thin.”
She shook her head. “And that is not good.” They watched in silence for a quarter of an hour and mapped the flow of people and product. The shimmer of the Draksa’s veil from the building across the way was occasionally visible and she wondered, as she usually did, whether everyone could see it or if she was merely especially attuned. Instead of asking Tanyith what was essentially an irrelevant question, she said, “How do you want to handle it? My thought is maximum chaos.”
He laughed. “So, business as usual, then. Do you care to share a few more details?”
“Fyre comes out of hiding and flies over once to get people moving. On his return trip, he ices any of the Atlanteans still around.” His frost breath was excellent for disabling enemies in a fight without killing them and locked them in a magically frozen shell. “We deal with any runners.”
Tanyith shrugged. “It seems like as good a plan as any. I’m ready when you are.”
Cali had sent her thoughts to the Draksa as she spoke and approval flowed back from him. Of course, he’s always happy to be the star.
With another shake of her head, she banished the smile from her face and readied herself to leap. She was about to give the command for him to start the attack when the movement of the people inexplicably changed. “Hold on—what’s going on?”
What had previously been two streams of pedestrians moving in opposite directions on either side of the street became twin flows away from the far end. The speed shifted from a saunter to a deliberate walk that would probably become a run. She squinted and finally located three men in the typical cheap-suit uniform of the Zatora crime syndicate’s middle-level goons.
The current representatives also wore long trench coats that weren’t appropriate to the weather but were perfectly suitable to hide weapons. Two wore black and the other tan. They didn’t present an obvious threat that she could see, but something must have made the people decide that being somewhere else at the moment would be a better choice.
She nudged Tanyith. “Maybe they’re ugly. Like, disfigured. What do you think?”
He sighed and shook his head, doubtless jealous over her immense wit. “Well, there’s only one way to find out.”
“Right. Attack them.”
“Okay, make that two ways. I thought we’d wait for them to get closer.”
“Honestly, you’re no fun at all.” She shook her head. “Fine. Have it your way.” Many of those selling illegal goods followed their customers hastily in an effort to leave the area, and the Atlantean gang members joined the flow when the Zatoras had covered a quarter of the length of the street.
As soon as it became apparent that they had chosen flight rather than fight, a man called, “Hey. ʼLant freaks. Take another step and we’ll put you down.” The three men raised weapons and aimed at their quarry. Two held rifles and the man in the middle with the tan coat brandished a shiny silver revolver that looked too large for his hand.
The Atlanteans stopped and turned to face the new arrivals. They were all empty-handed and obviously had brought no weapons, but their postures displayed little concern at the evident threat. The woman’s voice rang out, contemptuous and confident. “Put your toys away and go home, humans.” She shrugged the backpack into a more centered position on her back with a casualness that spoke arrogance and unconcern.
“Hey, boss, do you hear that?” one of the men in black coats replied. “I guess we’d better take off, huh?” He laughed in the way that only genuine bootlickers ever could.
The Zatora in the center twitched the revolver slightly as he nodded. “Yeah, we’re probably no match for them. But maybe this once, we’ll get lucky.” It was the same voice that had spoken the first time and carried a heavy dose of contempt.
The Atlanteans’ posture changed and became more rigid and tense. “This is insane,” Cali whispered. “Force shields will block anything the Zatoras have and they will find themselves cooked, electrocuted, or otherwise obliterated.” She shook her head. “We need to stop this from escalating any further.”
Tanyith hissed his disgust. “Why? Let the scum wipe each other out.” She twisted to glare at him and he seemed to realize what he’d said and shrugged. “How many risks can we take until we lose?”
Cali replied with a short laugh. “At least one more, I hope. Are you ready?” He nodded, and she sent the mental command to the Draksa as she said the words aloud. “Start it up, Fyre.”
He unveiled and launched himself off his perch. The twilight glinted from his metallic scales, which had morphed over time into a mixture of platinum and gold. His body elongated and his legs tucked against his torso while his neck extended to balance the long heavy tail at the opposite end. He roared to attract the attention of all those below, and the Atlanteans summoned the expected force shields. The Zatoras jerked their weapons up in surprise and pulled the triggers reflexively.
The creature dipped and wove deftly to evade the ongoing fusillade. The closer targets hadn’t attacked him, so he remained high to improve his dive at the ones who had. He screamed in rage when a bullet scraped one of his wings, and Cali’s eyes widened in shock. “His scales are magical. They should have protected him.”
Tanyith reached the obvious conclusion before she did. “Holy hell. They have anti-magic bullets.”
She’d heard of them but had been fairly sure they weren’t available in New Orleans. Usually, the expensive and rare ammunition was restricted to the military and the AET forces that some cities had to counter magical threats. “Well, that’ll make this more interesting. Let’s do it.” Before he could try to dissuade her, she launched herself on a trajectory that would take her directly into the ranks of the Zatoras and he followed only a beat later.
Fyre discharged a frost attack at the enemies who’d shot him and they flung themselves aside hastily. The Atlanteans took advantage of the moment to join the fray and released lightning at their human foes. The humans found cover behind trash cans and elevated stairs to protect them from the first barrage.
Cali landed cleanly and focused on the man in the tan coat since one of the others had referred to him as the boss. He raised the pistol to aim at her, but she had already initiated a quest to reach his mind. She slipped past his mental barriers and made him sneeze as he pulled the trigger, which sent the bullet wide. Before he could aim another, she fired a force blast at his chest that spun him behind a parked car, although he managed to dodge the full strike. Irritated, she surged ahead to get a better angle on him.
A force bolt pounded between her shoulder blades and propelled her forward. She tucked and rolled into a somersault and came out of it on her feet. Not only did the Zatora have his pistol aimed squarely at her, but one of the Atlanteans readied himself for his second assault. Apparently, he thought this might be a good way to remove her from the equation without officially breaking the rules that governed their conflict.
Sure, let him shoot me and you look all innocent. Enemy of my enemy and all that, I guess. Bastards. Now, you’ve made me mad.
Chapter Two
In quick succession, Cali dispatched a magic force blast at both her enemies before they could act against her. The first knocked the pistol out of the Zatora’s hands and his look of shock as it careened away was deeply rewarding. The second failed to connect but drove the Atlantean into hiding. She sent a thought to Fyre to tell him to target the magical gang members and turned toward the man in the tan coat.
He was in mid-twist in an attempt to retrieve his fallen weapon when her bracelets completed their transformation into black Escrima sticks with etched scarlet runes. She hurled them both, the first high and the second low. The shorter distance diminished the impact, but it was still sufficient to trip him very effectively and he landed hard with a grunt. She scanned for the men with the rifles.
One was to her left, the farthest from their original position, and sighted at the closest Atlantean. The other was directly in
front of her and his rifle already spat bullets at Tanyith. She gave an involuntary shout of warning. In the same moment, he saw the danger and elevated sharply on a blast of magical force.
The weapon swung upward to aim at him again and her instinct kicked in. Her body lurched into motion toward the assailant, but it was very clear that neither her momentum nor her physical powers would be sufficient to stop him before he shot her partner. In the realm of mental magic, though, time acted differently. She reached out with her mind and found the protective shell around his.
Many magicals trained to build up their resistance, but only the most meditative humans had anything more than the most basic defense. Her foe clearly was not on the path to enlightenment. She darted through one of the plentiful mental gaps and primed him for distraction, then made him imagine a roaring Draksa on his left.
The man flinched, whipped his weapon around, and created holes in the siding of the closely packed buildings that bounded the street. She reached him before he could gain his bearings and positioned herself on the opposite side of him from the Atlanteans. Her first punch landed on his kidney as she darted past and spun to face him. Ehrn he arched his back from the pain, an uppercut that carried the full strength of her twisting and rising body struck his chin, lifted him from his feet, and dropped him bonelessly to the cobblestones.
