Semiautomatic Sorceress Boxed Set One: includes: Southwest Nights, Southwest Days, and Southwest Truths

by Kal Aaron

  Damien watched her warily as he sat down. “You sure you’re okay? You were real spun up at Alvarez’s place.”

  “It depends on what you have to tell me.” Lyssa sat down, not wanting to get too close to Damien. “I hope you didn’t come here empty-handed. I can let showing up in broad daylight at my house go, but I’m still irritated about the whole ambush thing and the EAA not having a clue.”

  “You got out okay.” Doubt tinged Damien’s voice.

  “Would you be fine with being shot at as long as you got out okay?”

  “I see your point.”

  Lyssa frowned. “I don’t mind going after shards or thugs using them, and it’s not like every rogue bit of sorcery out there needs to have an Eclipse sent to handle it, but I want to go in prepared whenever I’m hired.”

  Damien nodded. “Fair enough. And let me make it clear: I don’t disapprove of how you handled yourself.”

  His gaze lingered on her for a moment, an outright stare. Lyssa scooted farther away, her cheeks heating.

  Why was he doing this? Not that she wasn’t flattered, but anything other than the job was way down the list right now.

  “What?” she asked. “Something on my face?”

  “No.” Damien looked away. “I’m so used to dealing with you as Hecate that I forget that’s not your face.”

  “You don’t like my face?” Lyssa ran a hand over her cheek.

  Damien shook his head. “You’ve got a great face. One I don’t mind looking at.” He grimaced. “I’m saying you’re not unattractive.”

  “I’m not unattractive?” Lyssa asked. “Ouch. That’s the bare minimum praise.”

  What the hell was she doing? She’d been pissed at him for flirting, and now she was?

  “You’re attractive,” Damien sputtered. “Completely. Affirmatively.”

  Lyssa tilted her head, unsure of how to respond to that. Damien had never said anything like that about her mask before, but he was right. Ninety percent of the time when they dealt with each other, she was dressed as Hecate the Night Goddess and sounded like a sailor who’d spent twenty years smoking.

  Damien, in contrast, got to show off his handsome face whenever he wanted to. She wouldn’t say it was unfair, given the power granted by the regalia, but it did make the conversation awkward. She could understand how he might almost see Lyssa and Hecate as two different women.

  “Okay.” Lyssa looked away. “Enough about my face. You’re here about the shards, right?”

  Damien’s smile faded, and serious concern settled over his face. “Yes. I’ve been looking hard into the situation with Alvarez. We don’t have the deep personnel bench and resources in the local office that some of the bigger offices do, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have pull.”

  “Okay,” Lyssa replied. “I’m glad to hear you’re doing your job, but I’d prefer to hear about the results.”

  “How about information?” Damien asked.

  “Same thing. I’ve quietly asked around on my own, but I’m still waiting to hear back.”

  Damien looked down for a moment, his brow furrowed, before speaking. “I pressed a little deeper, and the mayor’s call for a Torch doesn’t seem like it had much to do with testing you out. I don’t think Lopez lied. I think he was fed a line.”

  Lyssa hopped off the couch and pumped her fist. “I knew it!”

  Damien eyed her with concern. “Yes, you were right that day. I checked into local procedures, and it’s clear that if they have any reason to suspect shards or Sorcerers, their first step is to coordinate with the EAA to request a Torch or an Eclipse.”

  “And they didn’t do that?”

  He shook his head. “That only happened because the mayor pressed the Chief, and he got the ball rolling. It didn’t come from the police side of things, which is where we’d expect it in this kind of situation.”

  “Then why are you so sure this wasn’t just the mayor wanting to test his new pet Sorceress?” Lyssa asked.

  Damien frowned. “I thought you were the one who thought all this was suspicious. I bring you evidence, and you’re trying to poke holes in it?”

  “Don’t get me wrong; I’m completely dedicated to my paranoia hobby.” Lyssa folded her arms and flicked her wrist. “But I also want to make sure we’re following actual evidence and not phantom leads. It’ll make it easier when I need to ride somewhere to shoot someone.”

  Damien blinked at her answer before nodding slowly. “I got my hands on an internal email from the mayor’s office. In it, the mayor references ‘a message from our friends at the Bureau’ before telling his chief of staff to get a Torch for any potential Alvarez raid. That email was written earlier that day, before Alvarez was spotted returning to his home.”

  “Who are these friends at the FBI?” Lyssa asked.

  “Nobody knows.” Damien shrugged. “I asked around the mayor’s office, and they’re arguing I misinterpreted the email, and I wasn’t supposed to have it anyway. They threatened to make a big stink about it. They also pointed out that hiring a Torch via the EAA is the proper procedure, so it’s not like they did anything wrong.”

  Lyssa returned to the couch, scowling. “But why all the secrecy?”

  “They were acting so offended it made me more suspicious. I thought the cost might come off as extravagant, and maybe they were worried about justifying it, but I think this is more about maintaining relationships.” Damien inclined his head toward the window. “It’s the same reason the EAA sent me and a couple of people here from California to follow you. I think the locals are still getting used to the idea that they have a Sorceress living openly among them and trying to figure out how they can use that politically and otherwise.”

  “How does that translate into the FBI and their leads?”

  Lyssa didn’t understand or care much about the fine details of politics. She could barely bring herself to care about Illuminated politics, and it was all but impossible to muster any interest in Shadow politics. She dealt with assignments involving discrete targets and harbored no interest in working her way to an Elder position, let alone the Tribunal.

  For now, she needed flexibility if she wanted to achieve her long-term goals, including finding the truth about her brother. But not caring about politics wasn’t the same as not having them affect her. If the mayor had indirectly set her up because someone at the FBI had told her something, she needed to understand why.

  Damien leaned forward and lowered his voice. “It seems like there’s been a major spike of illegal shard smuggling in the US in the last couple of weeks, particularly in the Southwest. I don’t think you appreciate that we’re still working out the fine details of handling all this.”

  “As in, the government?”

  “Exactly.” Damien nodded. “Technically, the illegal transport and import of any sorcery-based object should be handled by the same organizations handling all black-market smuggling, but the practical truth is, the FBI, the Coast Guard, the DEA, and just about everyone else doesn’t want to get near sorcery. They try to shove as much of it as they can onto the EAA, but we’re stretched thin, and we don’t have the depth of experience or the personnel to handle that kind of thing.” He averted his eyes. “There are other considerations.”

  Lyssa stared at him, trying to read his face. She’d only known Damien for a few months. He’d been a welcome relief after the uptight idiot who had been her previous primary personal liaison, but that wasn’t the same thing as always understanding how his mind worked.

  This time, though, she could see it right on his face—the shame. The rest worked itself out quickly.

  “You don’t always want to come to the Society hat in hand,” Lyssa murmured.

  “It’s more than that. If a fox eats a bunch of hens, it’s crazy to hire another fox to hunt them down. No offense.”

  “It sounds more logical than hiring a bunch of hens. No offense.”

  Damien met her gaze with steely determination. “You saying you think
normies are a bunch of hens waiting to be eaten?”

  Lyssa rolled her eyes. “Dial it down, Damien. Remember what you told me the other day? It’s me you’re talking to, not some fossil Sorcerer who thinks he’s inherently better than all Shadows.”

  He gave a shallow nod. “You’re right. Sorry. But yes, the more we depend on Torches, let alone Eclipses, the more the higher-ups are concerned that it makes normies look weak. I don’t think you always appreciate how deeply people are afraid of you.”

  “The ratio of Shadows to Illuminated is, like, four million to one.” Lyssa shrugged. “If we were all-powerful, I don’t think the Society would have gone public after M-Day. They would have found a way to blow it off.”

  “I’m not saying I buy into all the conspiracy theories. What I am saying is that the federal government, at both the law enforcement and military levels, is very, very paranoid about what would happen if the Society decided the treaties are nothing more than pieces of paper. Things like shards flooding the black market don’t make them feel calmer.”

  “I’m not going to defend every Sorcerer, but I know the Society can’t be happy about this either. I’m waiting to hear back from Samuel, but you know how that guy is. The question is, if the FBI knew about the shards, why didn’t you? Shouldn’t they have wanted to shove the investigation off on you EAA boys?”

  Damien looked grim. “Normally, I wouldn’t have to ask. I’m still trying to figure that out, but for now, we need to proceed on the assumption that the best solution here is to send a fox after a fox. For now, I’m authorized to hire you to front a longer-term investigation into the shards, though it seems only Alvarez knew where he got them from.”

  Lyssa grimaced, regretting blowing a hole through the criminal. “Really?”

  “They’re following up with their phones and computers and the others, but I don’t think the FBI or the police are going to find out. I’m going to do what I can on my end too, but I’m not convinced I’ll get far. Too much ass-covering and not enough resources. I’m also going to keep my distance on this for your benefit.”

  “More politics?”

  “Exactly.” Damien nodded. “There’s been more noise than I expected about the alleged excessive force of the raid.”

  “Hey.” Lyssa glared at him. “Do you expect—”

  “No.” He shook his head. “After reviewing all the facts, I think if anything, you were restrained. But what I think and what the people above me decide aren’t the same thing. You’ve been working with us long enough to understand that.”

  “By Society laws and Society treaties with the US, I have the right to defend myself with full sorcery, up to and including lethal force.” Lyssa clenched her hand into a fist. “If they think I went overboard, they should take it up with Samuel and the Society. They can try to get an Eclipse after me.”

  “I don’t think anyone’s interested in doing that, and it’s not like your people would hunt you for taking down a criminal with a bunch of shards. I’m just trying to communicate that I don’t put it past some ambitious types to try to use this situation—and you—to advance themselves.”

  “Screw them.” Lyssa hopped up and shadowboxed the air. “If they want a piece of me, they can come at me.”

  “You’re a tough chick.” Damien’s voice trailed off, and he stared at her chest.

  Lyssa blinked. “Is this the time to be checking me out?”

  Damien winced. “I wasn’t doing that.” He gestured at her shirt. “Tough chick, but you’re in that.”

  Lyssa looked down at her shirt. More Kawatsu-chan. Toughness and cute unicorns didn’t go together.

  “You’ve seen this character before.” She shrugged.

  “I know.” Damien laughed nervously. “It’s just the situation. Anyway, forget it. The point is you’re not untouchable. If you resolve this incident quickly, they won’t be able to do much without looking like the snakes they are.”

  “Fine, fine.” Lyssa smiled. “Get the contract set up on your phone, and let’s do the signing. Maybe my info will come in before that, but I’ve got something personal to take care of later tonight.”

  Damien didn’t know it was the anniversary of her brother’s disappearance. She didn’t feel the need to mention it or talk about where she went every year at this time.

  “Sure,” he replied. “You do what you need to, but the sooner you finish—”

  “The sooner everyone stops being asses.”

  Chapter Twelve

  A white-jacketed rider on a yellow Ducati Panigale screaming down a highway at hundreds of miles per hour would, under most circumstances, attract the attention of the highway patrol, as well as more dangerous people. That meant that when Lyssa took full advantage of her abilities to maximize her speed, she needed to hide from prying eyes.

  On a day when she wasn’t pressed for time and was looking to relax, she could have kept to the speed limit, or near-ish, and hit San Diego from Scottsdale in around five hours. Zen-like calm accompanied a long bike ride. It was one of the reasons she preferred her motorcycle. She liked being exposed to the elements as she tore across the land. Freed from the cage of a car, she felt like she could become one with the road.

  Today her schedule removed any chance of a relaxing trip. Tomorrow she needed to start her new contract. The timing meant it was even more important that she finish her personal business that night. That translated into getting to San Diego as quickly as possible with the help of sorcery spells and rituals. She had started by using her standard package of spells to escape her home before driving west as Hecate.

  Focused on splitting her attention between mental imaging and chanting as she prepared her long-distance travel spells, along with driving, she didn’t mind the looks and occasional honks as she made her way along surface streets to the highway.

  Once she hit the highway, a group of bikers cruised in formation with her for a while, but no one dared get too close to the dark rider. Once she’d hit AZ-85, the long minutes of chanting under her breath and her mental images of strings of shadow and dark twins layered in intricate patterns took effect, turning her sorcery from mere potential to an alteration of reality.

  Lyssa pulled away from the bikers with a wave, not wanting to startle them into an accident. They offered respectful nods.

  Once she’d distanced herself by hundreds of feet, she finished the last portion of the ritual. The melodic Phrygian flowed with ease, each syllable spoken in time with a specific mental image precisely memorized over years of practice. When she’d learned the ritual, she’d never imagined using it on a motorcycle.

  That kind of flexibility was what the Society needed. The combination of technology and sorcery represented the future of humanity.

  The Phrygian wasn’t her choice, but she didn’t mind. Every Illuminated had their own methods of calling on their power, linked to both family and essence traditions. In a sense, every language was sacred and could bring out the power of a Sorcerer’s soul. Lyssa used the ancient Indo-European language as part of her efforts because her mother, the last bearer of the Night Goddess, did so.

  Specifics didn’t matter as much as finding what resonated within. All the pointless squabbles of the past where different factions obsessed with their paths warred with each other represented a fundamental misunderstanding of sorcery.

  Lyssa spared a brief thought for how she’d inherited the Night Goddess indirectly. That had caused trouble with another family, the Khatris, who had previously controlled the regalia, but such was the way of the capricious enchanted garments.

  Her grandfather, though a user of different regalia and essence, also made use of the language, and so it had been for generation after generation of Corti before their family blended in with lost ancestors. Since getting Jofi, Lyssa typically only needed the language for powerful, lasting rituals.

  With the ritual complete, the bike and rider were an all-but-silent, ghostly, intangible wraith form. She was barely noticeable unless
someone was close, but the power of the vehicle remained. She jerked as the Ducati ripped down the side of the road, barely touching it. The maxed speedometer was useless. She knew from experience that her bike had reached four hundred miles per hour.

  Lyssa took slow breaths, the spell helping her breathe evenly. Driving on the side of the road, combined with her spells, would help her avoid a serious collision. The worst-case scenario would involve a sudden stop and her wraith form failing.

  In the past, she hadn’t always been able to perform the complicated ritual she’d dubbed Tenebrous Air successfully. Darkness wasn’t an essence that lent itself to quick travel, but once she’d acquired Jofi, things had changed. She’d been able to maintain spells and rituals that had seemed far out of reach when she was younger.

  It wasn’t relaxing, for sure. The trip required heavy concentration, but there was a lot to be said for being able to get around quickly and not having to leave the ground.

  Lyssa could do Phoenix to San Diego in less than an hour on a single tank of gas. An alert driver might notice the slight wake of her passage on the ground, but it wasn’t like anyone dared chase a shadow going hundreds of miles per hour. Not only did Jofi grant her the extra power she needed for the spell, but the spirit also helped guide her driving, even beyond the enhanced reflexes her regalia granted.

  The nearby road and countryside became blurs, but the mountains in the distance provided a stable measuring point. Her fingers and arms flexed with movement, both her own and the slight tug by Jofi. This would be her first trip back to her stomping grounds, the San Diego area, but it was almost a straight shot west after the beginning.

  She was now passing Yuma. She could stop at her informant Reed’s place, but there wasn’t any point. The snake would call her when he had something useful.

  “Thanks for your help,” Lyssa said once she hit I-8.