by Kal Aaron
“Since when are you the head of Sorcerer HR?” Lyssa asked. “And I hope you’re not talking about Tricia. I need people who I know aren’t corrupt but who can also take care of themselves outside their home. At the end of this twisted rainbow, there’s not going to be a pot of gold. It’s going to be a cauldron filled with blood. I love her to death, but she’s not ready to kill like I am.”
“Your choice of metaphors is colorful, but I’ll address your primary concern,” Jofi replied. “Given what I’ve witnessed, I’d recommend approaching Miss Khatri for aid.”
Lyssa burst out laughing. “You want me to ask Aisha for help? Are you drunk?”
“It’s impossible for me to get drunk,” Jofi replied. “Your statements in your last encounter and her actions after your battle with Adrien Allard when you were wounded and vulnerable suggest she’s no longer a threat to you. Her constant proclamations also suggest she takes a dim view of Illuminated corruption. Her combat skills, by your own admission, approach yours, even though she’s younger.”
“She’s a frenemy, not a friend.” Lyssa sat up and stacked the whiteboards on her nightstand. “Yes, that’s a big upgrade from her previous status of ‘woman most likely to murder me in my sleep’ or ‘petulant shin kicker,’ but it’s not the same as being a friend willing to have my back in a dangerous investigation of Society corruption. And if people think I lack finesse, Aisha is the Empress of Explode First and Ask Questions Later.”
“But you don’t question her potential corruption?”
Lyssa shook her head. “Not anymore. The other problem is she believes in the Society more than I do. She came up with a lot of explanations for Theodora’s behavior when I brought up some weird things.”
“Would Miss Dale be a possibility?” Jofi asked. “Her dolls would prove useful in a battle. Presumably, she’s made some improvements in control.”
Lyssa wasn’t sure about that. During her most recent visit to Vegas, she hadn’t even seen any of the tiny dolls at Serafina’s place.
“Serafina couldn’t concentrate on a conspiracy long enough to help hunt it down.” Lyssa chuckled. “If I need someone to help me in the end, I might ask her, but not at this stage in the investigation. The same thing for most people I know and trust—pretty much all of them, and it’s a short list.” She shrugged. “I’ll have to figure something out, but you’re right. I can’t go hunting down people on that list until I have a few more things lined up.”
“Then what is your immediate plan?”
Lyssa slipped under her covers. “To stop asking and force Samuel to give me work. If there’s pressure on him from the higher-ups to keep me benched, the louder I get, the more obvious it’ll be. And if he gives me work, I’ll end up that much closer to Last Remnant.” She nodded, now more comfortable with the situation. “It’s time I insisted. If he refuses, I’ll know something is up.”
Chapter Six
Lyssa yawned and stretched out on her couch. Watching the latest episode of the new season of Sensual Sorceress might not be the best way to spend her time, but she’d become addicted after binging on the train wreck that was the first season. It was at least something to distract her from her thoughts of throttling Samuel. She couldn’t go around town beating up every bike thief.
She’d contacted Samuel two days before with her shard mirror and insisted he give her work. She’d preemptively countered every objection about her health and mental state with the same arguments she’d given to Jofi. The finishing touch was explaining how placing Torches under extra pressure weakened their availability in all of the western United States.
“I’ll take your concerns under advisement,” Samuel wrote back to her. “I understand your desire to return to the field, and I also understand you are feeling frustrated. Rest assured, I keep general readiness in mind when assigning contracts. Please stand by for now.”
Lyssa didn’t know what to make of that. She’d been prepared for a definitive answer, but the slippery chicken mascot clone had managed to commit to nothing without refusing her. The damned Elders were always slithering away like that.
That was why she’d never make a good Elder. Politics and ambiguity weren’t natural to her. Being Hecate was easy. It involved a mask and shooting people, not manipulating them.
Without a clear no, she needed to stay home in case an emergency contract came up. While she accepted it wasn’t like the EAA or the Society needed a Torch every day, she’d never get to Last Remnant by sitting around watching terrible reality shows. For once in her life, she wished the area was a little more out of control.
“I screwed up, didn’t I?” Lyssa said, pausing her show during a hot tub scene featuring a faked water sorcery display involving waves in the tub.
“In what sense?” Jofi replied. He remained tucked away in her safe. “I don’t approve of your every decision, but you’ve survived so far. That does imply you’ve made fewer mistakes than good choices.”
Lyssa sat up. “I don’t mean in general. I meant about Samuel. I should have pestered him for more jobs right away instead of overthinking the pictures. Right after Houston, I should have been up his ass demanding work. He would have been resistant, but I’d already be back doing what I do best, and I think he’d be less inclined to keep up the status quo. It’s hard to argue with momentum.”
“The battle you fought was difficult,” Jofi said. “I would not so lightly dismiss the level of injury you sustained, nor the level of sorcery you were forced to use. The effectiveness and beauty of the showstopper round don’t negate the dangers of its use.”
“Beauty?” Lyssa stopped herself from frowning. Jofi could see her expressions.
She’d held onto a slight worry that the fight had done something to Jofi’s seal. On most days, those concerns were easy to dismiss, but she didn’t trust her recent luck. She didn’t need to panic, but a little follow-up wasn’t unwarranted.
“There’s beauty in complete annihilation,” Jofi continued. “You don’t agree? I don’t harbor the same aesthetic sensibilities as you in a sense, but I can’t deny that I find it appealing. You made statements during the fight suggesting the same.”
“I don’t know about that. I accept the power of complete annihilation, but that’s not the same thing as beauty.” Lyssa shook her head. “I don’t think much about the beauty of what I do, only the effectiveness. I used that round because Allard left me no choice. I would have preferred not to.” She sighed. “Believe it or not, I’d prefer if every job ended with the guy surrendering. I like being good at what I do, but it’s not like I find joy in killing people. I don’t feel sad about taking out trash, either.”
“I see. That’s interesting. I know you’re reluctant to use the rounds, but I was under the impression that was more about the expense and difficulty involved with their creation. Does the level of power involved disturb you?”
Her face twitched into a slight frown, but at this point, she thought she could explain it away. Having Jofi focusing on the rounds versus her statements about killing fueled her worries.
“It disturbs me a little. Yeah.” Lyssa lifted her hand and looked at the back of it. “We could get through almost anything with a showstopper if we had to. I don’t know if I like that. It’s good to have a final option, but I prefer being careful about using them.”
“Why do you dislike having an effective weapon?” Jofi asked. His tone remained steady and without any emotion. “Would you prefer weapons that could be defended against? That would increase the personal risk to you.”
Lyssa thought about the question. She wasn’t all that philosophical on most days, even when her job left her too much time to sit around and think. Her solutions to problems were only a little less direct than Aisha’s.
No one liked being reminded of their flaws. That was probably the reason she and Aisha’d had such trouble getting along over the years.
She thought back to Jofi’s question. Telling him she didn’t want to use something that ri
sked freeing him to wreak havoc wasn’t an option, but it also wasn’t the only concern. There was something else.
“A weapon that can’t be countered limits its own use,” Lyssa said. “The Shadows have only managed to drop two nukes and no more because then a bunch of countries got them. Mutually assured destruction. An armed society is a polite society.”
“This is not a similar situation,” Jofi said. “Killing you or disarming you will stop the use of the weapon. You’re not unstoppable. Your weapon can be countered. Therefore, your reluctance doesn’t make sense.”
Lyssa chuckled. “Now I’m a little insulted. I’m Hecate, the Semi-Automatic Sorceress. I’m not so easy to take down.”
“It wasn’t my intent to insult you. I’m only stating my perspective.”
“I’m just messing with you. And yeah, I get your point. They won’t work without the appropriate compatible essence, so it’s not like some goon could knock me out and take them.”
Lyssa stared in the direction of her bedroom. She’d been sitting around feeling sorry for herself and worrying about her brother, but she had other responsibilities. Jofi believed he was a gun spirit and not an emptiness spirit. It was time to get out of the house and do something other than brood about Samuel.
“Hey, after I finish the episode,” she said, “why don’t we hit a range? It’s been a while since I’ve fired you. I made some promises. It’s time I kept them.”
“I would enjoy that,” Jofi replied.
A handy feature of Jofi being bound to Lyssa’s pistols was that she could change their appearance even without using active sorcery or her regalia. She didn’t want to wander into the Southwest Survival Tactical Range and have people recognize Hecate’s weapons. There were enough minor intimidation flourishes on the pistols to make them unique.
For now, she was a woman alternating between her two normal-looking Sig Sauer P320s. Bringing only one would stress the seal.
She stood in her firing lane, aiming at the man-shaped target in the distance. It’d been a while since she’d been at a range. She’d forgotten that loud gunshots plus ear protection made it a surprisingly good place to chat with Jofi.
Lyssa put three rounds into the head of her target. Shooting stationary targets was too easy and a little boring. She might have to look into their more expensive and appointment-only moving target room during her next visit. She doubted she could get the HOA to approve a fancy backyard firing range, though she was tempted to ask them just to see the looks on their faces.
After another three shots, she asked, “Everything okay with you, Jofi?”
“Yes,” he said. “Why wouldn’t it be? Do I need to remind you I don’t suffer from mental stress in the same way as you?”
“That’s not the same thing as never getting stressed out.”
“I suppose you could say that.”
“I’m not an expert on all things spirit. For all I know, you could get in a spirit funk, and I wouldn’t notice.” Lyssa concentrated and put a tight cluster into the chest of the target. The rounds landed so closely together they formed a single large hole. She nodded, satisfied.
“I was very satisfied with my heavy use in your most recent job,” Jofi replied.
Lyssa frowned. Her next few shots didn’t land in nice clusters, but she would have blown out the lungs of a living target. Muscle memory made her guns deadly even when she was barely paying attention.
That was good. A person didn’t want to spend much time thinking during a firefight. Split-second decisions kept shooters alive.
“I desire more activity against active targets rather than pure practice, but I understand the limitations of active hunting,” Jofi continued.
“You do understand I can’t kill people except in self-defense without a contract, right?” Lyssa asked. “Even if we drop me into the worst crime-ridden hellhole and I clear it out, the Elders and the EAA might call me a rogue. The Shadow government would freak out over the implications.”
“Of course, Lyssa,” Jofi said. “It wasn’t my intent to suggest you hunt criminals or terrorists. I understand your limitations.”
Lyssa wasn’t convinced he did. He’d always been borderline bloodthirsty despite the calm, professional tone. That didn’t bother her, but this was the first time in a while he’d hinted at doing something outside the bounds of the Society’s rules. He was usually the one talking her down from trouble.
The recent shift worried her, but it wasn’t time to go blabbing to Lee yet. Losing a partner and risking her life over mere suspicions, especially now that she had a lead on her brother, was the last thing she needed. Lee could ensure she couldn’t go to Last Remnant for years, and Lyssa would need Jofi’s power to deal with any potential assassins.
She emptied her current magazine in exchange for more headshots. “We’ll get our chance soon enough. There’s no way Samuel can leave me sidelined with all the bitching I did.”
Lyssa strolled toward the main lobby exit when a man jogged from the front desk toward her. His holstered pistol might have bothered her anywhere else, but over half the people in the building wore holsters. The ones who didn’t carried firearms in cases or were renting something large and high-powered from the range.
She let the man catch up. She planned to come back to the range and didn’t want to make a scene.
“You were in lane four, right?” the man asked, gesturing at her holsters.
“Yeah. What about it? Did I leave something?” Lyssa looked down. Two guns. Two holsters. A spent magazine, maybe?
Lyssa frowned, wondering if she’d made a mistake. Changing the appearance of her weapons wouldn’t do much if someone made the natural connection between dual pistol use and Hecate.
She hadn’t seen anyone else in the range wearing two holsters, which made sense given the lack of tactical utility for the average shooter. Maybe next time, she’d leave one of the guns in a case. As long as one was close to the other, it wouldn’t strain Jofi’s seal.
“No, you didn’t leave anything. Nice guns.”
“I like them.” She smiled.
“It’s stylish.” He smiled and extended a hand. “Luke.”
“Lyssa.” She shook his hand. “Please don’t tell me this is the part where you give me tips on my shooting.”
It had come out bitchier than intended. While she didn’t want to cause trouble, she didn’t need amateurs telling her how to shoot.
Luke laughed. “I don’t think I can give you tips. Your control and accuracy are damned impressive.” His gaze lingered on her face for a moment. There was a hint of open admiration in his eyes. “You doing anything after this?”
“I’m going home,” Lyssa replied. “Why?”
Luke laughed. “I was wondering if you’d like to get a bite to eat.”
He wasn’t bad looking, and he had a slicker vibe than the last man who’d hit on her. Nice shirt, nice slacks, nice shoes, but she had work and family to worry about, and she still wondered about possibilities with Damien. Not that they were going anywhere.
Lyssa sighed. This would be awkward, but Luke was a big boy. It wouldn’t be that bad.
“I’m not really in the market right now. Sorry. I don’t want to waste your time.”
He snapped his fingers. “Damn. I didn’t even get to my B material, but I appreciate you saving me time.”
“No problem.” Lyssa nodded at the door. “I should get going.”
“Wait.” Luke’s smile returned. “That’s not why I stopped you, but it was worth a shot.” He winced. “No pun intended. Anyway, I was serious about your shooting. You do competition shooting?”
“No.” Lyssa shook her head. “I’ve never been interested in competitions.”
“You military or SWAT or something?” Luke sounded surprised. “Because that was competition-level skill.”
“I’m just a woman who wants to make sure she can protect herself,” Lyssa said. “And I can’t do that if I can’t hit the target both quickly and accu
rately.”
“Why the two guns?” Luke asked. “When I saw you had both of them, at first I was like, ‘Oh, it’s some woman who’s watched too many movies, but then I saw what you did to those targets. Is it, like, a luck thing with the two guns? You were alternating in the range.”
That small choice might have saved her from being recognized. She’d been tempted to do some dual shooting. Since she planned to come to the range again, she’d have to keep that in mind for the future.
Lyssa allowed herself a wry smile. “Something like that. I think a lot of weapons have a spirit to them, and I feel like these have a joint spirit. I don’t want to keep them too far apart.”
“You are coming very close to telling him the truth,” Jofi said. “I advise caution.”
Lyssa ignored the spirit. Some random guy in the range wasn’t going to figure out anything about her pet spirit and true identity from a comment like that. She hadn’t felt any sorcery other than the enchantments on her guns since leaving home.
Sometimes it was nice not to have to lie. A future where regalia existed but didn’t double as a disguise would be nice.
“Huh. Spirit of the gun? That’s deep.” Luke stared at one of her holsters. “It’s like martial arts for guns. The Way of Shooting. I could learn a lot from you. No wonder you’re so good.”
“I think it’s less my attitude and more that I’ve been shooting almost half my life, fourteen years.” Lyssa patted her holsters. “It’s funny you mention martial arts. I grew up doing only martial arts at first. I was kind of following in the family's footsteps, but then I got my hands on a gun, and I fell in love with it. I didn’t neglect my other training, but I threw myself into guns, too. Always nice to have tactical options. You never know what’s going to happen out there.”
“A woman who can kill me fifteen different ways. Nice.” Luke whistled. “And I know what you mean. A woman’s got to protect herself. But wow, fourteen years? I’ve only been shooting for about five.” He smiled. “You have to forgive me for hitting on you earlier. Seriously, that wasn’t really why I approached you.” He chuckled nervously. “It’s not that you’re not attractive, but I saw the double holster and realized you were on lane four, and I had to talk to you. I didn’t get a good look at you before, but I need you.”