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

by Kal Aaron

“Oh.” The teen turned back to his friend and the screen.

  She was glad they didn’t press her on it or take her picture. That let her concentrate on her new find.

  The sensation was unmistakable. She’d found a shard, an enchanted USB stick.

  That was a first for her. She wasn’t the only Illuminated out there who believed they needed to accept more technology. That made her rogue dangerous.

  “Samuel’s going to hate this,” she muttered, walking back to the elevator. “But I’ll give Damien first crack.”

  “Why would you do that?” Jofi asked.

  “Sorcery-enhanced or not, a USB stick is a technological device,” Lyssa replied. “I’m not sure Samuel even knows what a USB stick is used for. This could have useful information on it.”

  She tucked the stick into her pocket. The boys cackled at a video. A familiar voice came out of the speaker: Lucky Nardi’s.

  “Get ready for the ultimate prank,” he said. “We’re going to convince this guy aliens stole his car! Remember, as always, if you love what we’ve done, you need to smash those Like and Subscribe buttons!”

  Lyssa stepped into the elevator, shaking her head. She’d avenge him and his partner.

  A desperate college kid didn’t deserve to get shoved into a monster nest. It might not have had anything to do with her before, but now that she had the contract, she’d see it through to the end.

  Lyssa brooded on the thought as she headed out the front doors. By the time she returned to the gauntlet near the opening, she’d given up on strawberry wafers. She hurried past everyone toward the parking lot and her bike.

  “Do you think they wanted me to find it?” she whispered. “They could have taken it with them, but they left it. If not me, then another Torch.

  “You would know better than me,” Jofi replied. “But might I suggest they left it to avoid someone using it as a basis for tracking sorcery? Their sacrifice was already achieved, assuming your theory is correct. They no longer needed the shard. Its mere presence doesn’t prove anything more than what you already presume, that a Sorcerer is involved.”

  Lyssa laughed. “This is even more messed-up than usual, huh?”

  A dark-haired man stood in front of her bike. His back was turned, but he was doing something to the seat. What were the chances?

  Lyssa growled and stomped over toward him. What the hell was wrong with people in the valley? She’d beat down every person in the county to protect her bike. Someone wanted a broken jaw.

  “Hey, asshole,” she shouted. “Stay the hell away from my bike. You hate being able to breathe?”

  The man spun, revealing a familiar handsome face. It’d been only a fleeting encounter at a gas station weeks ago, but Lyssa was good at remembering faces, especially when she talked to the person. It was her day for coincidences.

  “Bill?” she asked, sounding as surprised as she felt.

  He smiled and nodded at her seat. There was a piece of paper with writing weighed down with a rock. He held a pen, not a screwdriver, and had written Dear Lyssa.

  Lyssa stared at him. “What’s going on, exactly? Sorry about the threat. I thought you were trying to steal it.”

  “Nope. I wouldn’t dare.” Bill grabbed the paper and crumpled it. “I was coming out of the library when I saw a bright yellow Ducati. I thought to myself, ‘What are the chances that two people have that exact bike around here?’ Forget about the color. I don’t think I’ve seen that kind of bike before yours.”

  “My bike?” Lyssa shook her head. “You remembered?”

  “You and your bike are kind of hard to forget.”

  “Oh. That makes sense.”

  He gave her a dimpled smile. “I figured someone up there was trying to tell me something, and I figured a note couldn’t hurt. The worst thing that could happen was you would blow me off, and I was back to where I started.” He chuckled. “Are you still on the way to something?”

  Lyssa stared at him, trying to judge the situation. Given the population of the area, running randomly into a man she’d met at a gas station was incredibly unlikely, but she didn’t sense any sorcery from him. There was no tension in his face or stance, nothing to indicate he was all that worried.

  That didn’t mean he was innocent. Shadows had normal stalkers, and as he’d pointed out, she had a very distinctive bike. It wouldn’t be impossible to track her down, depending on how dedicated a man was.

  But the more she considered the possibility, the less sense it made. She had stayed home for the last month, and she’d not been on the job, meaning she would have been easier to find in Scottsdale than at a random Phoenix library.

  Lyssa pinched the bridge of her nose. Blowing Bill off again would be the easiest option, but it might mean she missed out on a chance for something outside her job. It wasn’t the right time for her to pursue a relationship, but it also wasn’t the right time for her to push things away.

  Lyssa lowered her arms. “Hold up your right hand with your palm out.”

  “Huh?” Bill complied. “Like this?”

  “Solemnly swear on your grandmother’s grave that you’re not a stalker,” Lyssa continued.

  “But my grandma’s still alive.” Bill looked confused. “She’s super-healthy.”

  “Do it anyway.” Lyssa leaned forward and locked her gaze on his. “Please.”

  Bill laughed. “I solemnly swear on my grandmother’s grave I’m not a stalker.”

  Lyssa looked for a twitch or an aversion of the eyes suggesting guilt, but Bill stared straight at her with a faint smile. She had decent reasons to distrust him, but maybe he was right, and the universe was telling them both something like, “It might be a bad idea to date guys you work with, so here’s a cute guy who isn’t an EAA agent.” Mixing work and the job might be a problem.

  She sighed and scrubbed a hand over her face. “Okay, this is going to sound weird, but I need you to hear me out.”

  “Sure thing, Lyssa.” Bill moved to sit on the bike but stopped himself. “Sorry. I know better than to mess with someone’s bike. And I do like being able to breathe.”

  A man who could crack jokes after being threatened with vicious injury was worth at least checking out.

  “I forgive you.” Lyssa took a deep breath. “I’m interested in you.”

  Bill’s eyes widened. “You are? Great!”

  “And I’m not out of your league,” Lyssa said.

  “Oh, crap. You remember my friends.” He groaned. “Those guys are idiots.”

  “Yeah, I remember them.” Lyssa walked toward her bike. Bill moved out of the way, and she straddled it. “And if things weren’t so hectic for my life right now, I’d go out with you tomorrow, but I’m in the middle of a job and some personal family stuff. I’m willing to commit to a date when I have time.”

  “When you have time?” Bill sounded disappointed.

  Lyssa nodded. “When I have time. That’s the best I can do. I hate to sound like I’m messing with you, but you wouldn’t believe the week I’m having.”

  “Okay, I get that.” Bill offered a strained smile. “When exactly will you have time?”

  “When I have time,” Lyssa said. “This is my life. I could lie and bat my eyelashes and claim it won’t happen again, but if you’re seriously interested in me, you might as well get used to it now. This isn’t about me being flaky. It’s my job.” She pulled out her phone. “Give me your number, and I’ll text you to set something up when I’m free.”

  “Are we talking days? Weeks? Months? Ballpark?”

  “All? None?” Lyssa grinned. “If I knew how my life was going to go from day to day, I’d be a much calmer woman, but I’m willing to entertain the notion something good might have fallen into my lap.”

  Bill stared at her, his face scrunched in confusion. She couldn’t blame him. She sounded completely self-absorbed. He could easily find a woman who wasn’t wrapped up in so much trouble. It’d probably be better for him.

  Tricia had found
Fred. An Illuminated could be with a Shadow outside the old families. In theory, it should have been easier post-M-Day, but she was a Torch with a secret identity, making that all a wash.

  But coincidences meant something to her, sinister and otherwise. They could signal the intentionality of people or the universe. Fate might be hard to accept, but that didn’t make them lies.

  Too many things in her life had lined up in strange ways for her to accept a random universe devoid of at least a path, if not a plan. She’d come to believe that even more in the last month after finding the picture of Chris.

  Pushing Bill away made the most sense for both of them, but Tricia’s advice about finding a life outside of being a Torch hung in the back of her mind. Lyssa was closer to finding Chris than she’d ever been. Once she did, they could be a family again, and a hole in her life would be filled. Would she be able to move on after that?

  One way to do that was to seek more. She’d let her personal life all but slip away the last few years until the line between Hecate and Lyssa had disappeared.

  “Going once, cowboy,” Lyssa said before she knew what was coming out of her mouth. “Going twice…”

  Bill offered his number. Lyssa smiled and typed it into her phone.

  “You going to give me yours?” he asked, sounding hopeful.

  “You’ll get it when I text you.” Lyssa grabbed her helmet from the back of her bike and pulled it on. “Do what you want in the meantime. And to be clear, this isn’t a loyalty test. You did catch me at a bad time with work and everything else. I’m not saying I’m not a bitch, but I’m not being one about this.”

  “What exactly do you do for a living?” Bill asked.

  “I’m a corporate troubleshooter.”

  “Oh. That’s cool. Whatever that is.” He smiled. “I hope you finish shooting trouble soon.” He chuckled.

  “I fully intend to shoot some trouble.”

  Lyssa had never understood why she’d settled on that cover story. It’d popped into her head years ago, and she’d run with it ever since. Part of it could be that people didn’t seem that interested in following up once they heard the word “corporate.”

  If they asked, she tossed out jargon about synergy and corporate goal alignment, and they smiled and nodded before trying to change the subject. It all sounded important, and she could easily claim corporate privacy kept her from talking about specific clients. It also explained why she had to travel so much and could afford an expensive bike and a nice house in Scottsdale.

  “Do you think it’s wise to lead that man on?” Jofi asked.

  Lyssa kept her smile through her flare of irritation. She’d only brought him along because she didn’t want to risk running into a rogue unarmed, even if she was limited to the two preloaded mags. The last thing she needed was a bound spirit who didn’t even know what kind of spirit it was giving her dating advice.

  The most annoying thing was that he was right. Whether future partner material or assassin, it wouldn’t hurt to expedite things with Bill and test him at the same time.

  “Screw it,” Lyssa said.

  “Huh?” Bill pointed to himself. “Me?”

  “I’ve got to drop something off,” Lyssa said. “I’ll have a few hours after that because I can’t go forward with my current job until I hear back from some people. If you want to have dinner tonight, this is your chance.”

  Bill ran a hand through his hair. “Sure. Why not? Just text me when you’re done dropping things off.”

  Lyssa started her bike and roared off, leaving the stunned Bill staring after her. She’d either finished a masterpiece of flirting with a long-term payoff or made a hideous mistake.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Lyssa decided against dropping the shard off with Damien before she texted Bill the address of a relaxed seafood place in Tempe she’d found a week ago. The universe might not be trying to tell her to date him. It might be trying to tell her to shove Jofi in his face and pull the trigger. But whatever happened with Bill, she wasn’t ready for him to know where she lived. Suggesting a place in Tempe might throw him off a little.

  Of course, he could trace her license plate, but there was only so far she was willing to twist things in her mind. Unless she confirmed he knew she was Hecate, there was no reason to adopt drastic measures. This didn’t have to be a stressful encounter, and he already seemed tolerant of her personality.

  After she offered the location, Bill responded with a suggestion of dinner about an hour after that. Lyssa hadn’t bothered to change. He might as well see the real her, and he’d been interested when she was driving around town before.

  They hit the restaurant. Both ordered poached salmon and settled in with their meal. While he chose to have a beer, Lyssa stuck to water. Fighting while drunk was obnoxious and hard, no matter what Hong Kong action movies suggested. And it could be difficult to keep secrets once the drinks flowed.

  Light conversation drifted back and forth, mostly idle talk about her motorcycle and his Silverado. She didn’t know what she expected, but she didn’t feel any sorcery. That was a point in his favor.

  “This is kind of weird,” Bill said, scratching his ear after finishing a bite of his food.

  Lyssa stared at the fish on the end of her fork. “Mine tastes fine. I won’t say it’s the best I’ve ever tasted, but it’s hard to get good fish here compared to back in San Diego. I think I’ve kind of given up on anything better.”

  Bill smiled. “I’m not talking about the fish, but it’s cool you told me a little bit about yourself. I can tell you’ve been trying not to. I’m not offended. I get that you’ve probably got your reasons to be careful around guys, but I’m happy you could open up to me, even a little.”

  Lyssa had let it slip. She needed to be more careful until she was sure about him.

  “You’re not the one who’s weird.” Bill chuckled and motioned between the two of them. “You and I are weird together. This date is weird. I’ve never done anything so quickly before, so I don’t know how to feel about it. I get there are speed-dating and Tinder and stuff, but I’ve never been into that kind of thing.”

  “I prefer to think of it as spontaneous rather than quick. And I’ve never done speed-dating or Tinder either.” Lyssa smiled. “Tell me a little more about yourself. A man’s not defined by his truck and his smile, but they are a nice start. And you were brave enough to ask me out, so that’s worth some points.”

  “I’m not a big hotshot corporate troubleshooter,” Bill replied. “And I’m from Gilbert, not California.” He smiled. “I shuffle files in an office. Nothing impressive like you.”

  “Being a corporate troubleshooter isn’t as cool as you’d think,” Lyssa replied. She set her fork down. “I never know when I’m going to be ridiculously busy or sitting around bored for a while. And it amounts to shuffling files, just not in my own office. I go and tell people they have problems, but I don’t do anything to fix them.”

  She didn’t know if she could start a relationship off with a bunch of lies, but she had no choice. Revealing her Sorceress identity to a man she didn’t know would go beyond trusting to ultimate stupidity.

  “I kind of understand your whole unpredictable schedule thing.” Bill picked up his beer and took a sip. “What made you want to go into that line of work? I can’t imagine you being a kid and saying, ‘I want to be a corporate troubleshooter when I grow up.’”

  The timing link between her library trip and Bill's appearance did suggest a remote possibility of him being involved in the incident. She didn’t think it was likely, but she had the means to check.

  Lyssa reached into her pocket and pulled out the shard drive, flipping it back and forth in her fingers with a smile. “I come from a long line of people who like to solve problems in dramatic ways. So in a sense, I did grow up saying I wanted to go into this line of work.”

  Bill eyed the drive, but he didn’t look interested or worried, more confused. “You’re not saying you’re a second
- or third-generation corporate troubleshooter, are you? Is that a real thing?” He laughed. “Sorry if that came out rude.”

  “Something like that, and yeah, something like that.” Lyssa laughed and set the drive beside her plate. “I suppose a lot of people fall into the same line of work as their parents when you think about it. It’s kind of like once you start paying attention to movies, you realize that not only half the actors are the kids of the last generation of actors, half the directors and writers are. What’s it called? Path dependence?”

  Bill watched her, not the drive. She might have overplayed her hand. Possibly he could be a Sorcerer and just wasn’t using any active spells, but it’d be much harder for him to pull that off if he was concerned about fighting her.

  When they’d entered the restaurant, Lyssa had kept her jacket on and half-zipped, claiming she was chilly. Bill didn’t seem to care or pay special attention to it or take notice of the powerful enchanted spirit-bound weapons inside. Knowing about them might have removed the worry for a prepared spy.

  It was time to test him more directly. Passive sorcery was far easier to ignore than active sorcery.

  Lyssa concentrated, imagining strings of pure darkness in her mind bundling together. The shadows at her feet deepened, all but unnoticeable, even if someone was looking right at them. Bill didn’t react. His breathing didn’t change.

  She released the spell as Bill returned to munching on salmon with a soft smile on his face. Eliminating the possibility of him being a Sorcerer didn’t mean he wasn’t a threat, but so far, the evidence was piling up that he was just a Shadow interested in an attractive woman with a nice bike. Simple statistical probability supported that.

  Her job and her brother had driven her into a corner, especially over the last month, but it wasn’t fair or sane to assume everyone was out to get her. He was a pleasant guy with a nice smile. His only flaw was his poor timing. That and his choice of friends, but that was a lot of men.

  Lyssa grabbed the drive and stuffed it into her pocket. “I’ve got a question. It’s very important. You should take time and carefully think about the answer because it means a lot to me.”