Southwest Days (Semiautomatic Sorceress Book 2), Kal Aaron [book recommendations based on other books .txt] 📗

There was one major problem. She didn’t see any sign that it was burning.

The robed man cackled, “It worked. All the effort paid off. It isn’t as grand as I’d imagined, but you’re responsible for that. You can’t stop it now. The sun won’t stop it. Isn’t it glorious?”

“You know what you have to do,” Jofi said. “It’s the only chance. It might also be capable of regeneration.”

“Yeah.” Lyssa growled, “I hope this works.”

She holstered one pistol. With the other, she ejected and caught her magazine. Taking a deep breath, she stuffed it into her pocket and pulled out the showstopper magazine. She jammed into the pistol with a determined look.

“Destruction of the enemy to save a town is the logical course of action,” Jofi said. “You have no other weapon available that can bring it down. Miss Khatri and the others might come soon, but they won’t be able to inflict enough damage. It will take time to mobilize Shadow military assets.”

Her heart threatening to jump out of her chest, Lyssa began chanting loudly and imagining the sigils of power and memories of celestial doom necessary to fuel the showstoppers. A yellow sun exploded in a nova, consuming a nearby planet in her mind. She painted glyphs and sigils at a rhythmic pace while flipping to a mental picture of a universe collapsing into an impossibly bright singularity. It was time to summon the true darkness.

An all-too-uncomfortably-familiar swirling void whirled in front of the pistol. She’d gone a long time without having to use a showstopper, and now she’d been forced to use them only a month apart. So much for being careful.

Lyssa pointed at the center of the building-sized monster and pulled the trigger three times. Jofi was right. There was a chance that something that large would be able to survive, and every use of a showstopper risked her life and consciousness. She couldn’t take the chance of passing out before the job was finished. Unloading them all at once was her best tack.

A wave of cold shot through her body, followed by pure, fiery agony. Her eyes rolled up in her head and she fell, trying to scream in pain but unable to get her body to respond. Intense torture suffused every part of her body, ameliorated by odd counterwaves of numbness.

Was this death? At least she’d given her life trying to defend people.

Lyssa tried to keep her eyes open as the showstoppers struck the monster. Shadowy lines spread and crisscrossed the body over several seconds, covering it in impenetrable darkness. The darkness shifted toward the legs, spreading faster.

“No!” the robed man screamed. “Impossible!”

The all-consuming darkness covered the monster, leaving a perfect giant shadow like a hole carved out of reality towering over her. A dot of light appeared, then another, and another. Sunlight shone through the holes, enlarging them and washing away the darkness around them. Lyssa wasn’t sure how much time passed until there was nothing left where a town-killer had once stood.

She also couldn’t feel anything anymore. She could barely hear or see. Someone shouted, but it sounded muffled and distorted. Her eyes fluttered closed. There was no fear, only acceptance.

“You did the right thing,” Jofi said, his voice clear. “One life is not worth thousands. It is a beautiful death, worthy of your family.”

Lyssa didn’t want to die, but she couldn’t argue with his logic even in her clouded state. That didn’t sound like the bloodthirsty ramblings of a grand emptiness spirit who lived to feed on souls and spread entropy.

A Torch was supposed to punish evil and protect others. That meant their lives were always on the line.

She’d been wrong. Lee had been wrong. Jofi had been right. She didn’t have time to wait and let the monster lay waste to the town. There was no guarantee other spells or heavy weapons would have even worked.

An image shot into her mind. No. She couldn’t accept this. Not yet.

“Not…ready,” Lyssa wheezed. “Chris. Either need to find him or get revenge on the bastard who killed him.”

“You’re right,” Jofi replied.

She couldn’t be sure if she was imagining it, but it felt like there was a hint of something in his voice—actual emotion, sadness.

“You’re not ready,” he continued. “I can feel it. There’s something more. Something in you. A greater potential. Find your brother first. Then maybe you’ll be ready. Until then, I will continue to serve you.”

“What?”

“We had an agreement, Hecate,” shouted Aisha. “You’re not allowed to die yet, you selfish woman.”

“Monsters?” Lyssa groaned.

“They all disappeared,” Ryan said. “I think they all formed into that thing you blew away as we left the tunnel.”

Someone sat her up. She couldn’t see in front of her and couldn’t feel them touching her, but she could tell that her balance had been shifted. They continued talking, but the sound went in and out. The world didn’t seem real.

Sleep. That was what she needed to do. Sleep forever.

No. No. No. She needed to remember Chris.

Warmth grew in her chest and slowly spread over her body. She didn’t hurt much, but she also couldn’t move any of her muscles.

Her vision returned. Her eyes opened, and color returned to the world.

Aisha stood over her with her arms crossed, frowning. Antoine knelt in front of her, his hand on her shoulder while he chanted in Latin.

“I’m not dead,” she murmured.

“Not yet, anyhow,” Antoine said. “Would you prefer to be dead?”

“Not on my list of greatest plans for today, but I also don’t think I’ll be doing a triathlon tomorrow.”

Aisha scoffed. “If you can make jokes like that, you’re fine.”

Chapter Thirty

“Help me up,” Lyssa said. Her senses had returned, but her muscles barely responded to her efforts. A cloud of fatigue hung over her mind.

That made sense. The showstoppers inflicted more injury to her soul than her body.

Antoine offered her his shoulder. “Up you go.” He nodded at the robed man, whose knee wounds were gone. “I figured we should stop him from bleeding out, but good job all around.”

“Good