Southwest Nights (Semiautomatic Sorceress Book 1), Kal Aaron [best books for 20 year olds txt] 📗

struck the truck. The latest blast gave Lyssa the opening she needed to finish covering the entire truck in a black blob that was impenetrable to everyone’s sight but hers.

“You should consider the destruction of the container,” Jofi said.

“If you didn’t notice, Aisha’s draining herself to try to do that.”

Lyssa ejected one of her magazines and pulled out one wrapped in black tape from her pocket. It was her showstopper. The magazine only contained three rounds, but that’d be more than enough to win a fight. She didn’t want to use it, but her options were dwindling. The enemy would win by attrition if the Torches couldn’t get through their defenses.

The ammo was not rare because of the cost. While expense was one consideration, time was another. The creation of the rounds required a lot of preparation and ritual work by Lyssa before Serafina could finalize them.

The gunmen should be proud of themselves. They’d pushed Lyssa to a point she hadn’t reached in a year.

Lyssa shoved the magazine into her gun before loading penetrator rounds in her other gun. She winced and checked her body. There was a blackened hole in her regalia, and some of the links in her mesh were missing, but she wasn’t doing too badly for someone who had been directly hit by an exploding round.

She eyed her guns. This was turning into a mess.

There was a fundamental threat associated with the showstopper rounds that was specific to her: the powerful combination of enchanted ammo, ritual, and active sorcery risked Jofi’s seal. She’d seen no indication that using a showstopper had done that in the past, but she couldn’t ignore the possibility.

It would be all right. It had been before. Why wouldn’t it be again?

Some of the shooters had made it to the open front of the darkness-choked container. They felt along the sides, guns in hand. They weren’t spraying wildly, but their continued shots kept Lyssa pinned. After a moment, the top of the container shot into the sky with another loud pop.

“Now what?” Lyssa muttered.

The top turned end over end before crashing and embedding itself in a nearby field. The sides of the container fell with a loud clang. There was no reaction from the men.

Lyssa could now make out the entire group of shooters, all in helmets and dark overalls. They stood in front of a group of crates. Half of them held guns. A discarded rocket launcher sat next to one man. They weren’t the biggest worry.

A small group of men held a bizarre collection of objects, undoubtedly shards. One man held a skull with glowing rubies in the eyes. Another held a lit candle. A third man wore a bandolier filled with small darts.

The men were all surprisingly calm considering not one of them could see, thanks to Lyssa’s spell. The shard-wielding men crouched near the ground, looking back and forth. They might have been awaiting orders or reinforcements or were trying to outwait Lyssa’s spell.

Their shooter friends dropped lower. The constant fire ceased, replaced by sporadic shots in the general direction of the Sorceresses.

Aisha hadn’t fired off a big attack in a while. Her ragged, heavy breathing proved how far she’d pushed herself, but she’d left the semi an immobile, smoking mess. Whatever else happened in the battle, the men wouldn’t be escaping with the shards.

“Give up, idiots,” Lyssa muttered. “You lost.”

Lyssa carefully aimed the gun with the penetrator rounds and lined up a shot. She fired once, clearing some of the darkness, but her bullets still didn’t reach her target, again striking an invisible field. The men returned to spraying explosive bullets her way, forcing her back behind a container. She took some small pleasure in realizing she was costing the gang far more money than they were making her spend.

The gunfire subsided after another half-minute. The men seemed far less eager to fire when they couldn’t see. Blackness quickly filled the hole she’d created with her attack.

Keeping a grip on her guns but moving her fingers, she concentrated on producing an image in her mind. She controlled her breathing while chanting her spell.

A dark circle appeared in the air a yard away from her, then another slightly higher and a third lower than the second circle and farther out. Within seconds, an uneven path of flat black circles reached from the ground and circled the now-open container and nearby area.

The good thing about pushing her sorcery to the limit without rituals was that natural exhaustion made the pain from her wounds seem distant. She sucked a breath through her gritted teeth. The Dark Steps wouldn’t last all that long in the direct sunlight, but she planned for the fight to be over before they evaporated.

Lyssa pulled shadows from the ground over her legs, leaving them obscured but recognizable, and lifted her guns. She stood with her back against the damaged container she was using for cover. “Ready to end this, Flame Deva?”

“Are you finally getting serious, Hecate?” Aisha called back, her voice strained.

“Something like that. I’m going to take down the shield.”

“I see. That would be helpful.”

Lyssa expected a volley of deadly bullets or shard sorcery from the men after their shouting, but none came. The men could hear her, judging by their shifting positions, but they weren’t shooting her way.

Sirens screamed in the distance. This whole raid had gone sideways, but she didn’t have time to chat with the cops and get it figured out. The Torches needed to end the battle before any innocents got hurt.

The man holding the candle stood up. He waved it, and the dark shroud surrounding the container disappeared in a bright flash, along with the candle.

His form wavered for a couple of seconds, then his helmet and uniform changed, shifting color to become gray and white, the pattern vaguely reminiscent of concrete. His helmet turned the same color and pattern, and opaque dark-blue-tinted goggles extended across his face. He lifted his hand, and a piece of metal tore from the fallen