I release the magic of the two short swords I’m holding and reach behind me. I call on the runes for my big ass sword and draw it over my shoulder like I’m pulling it from a sheath on my back.
“Do what you’ve got to do, asshole. But keep in mind, it’s hard to tattle to some magic-binding elders when you’re dead.” My voice is saccharin, but my eyes blaze with the promise of pain.
I’m so tired and pissed off right now. I don’t care if I am related to this fucker. Who the hell does he think he is?
“By the bleeding stars, Lachlan, your Dictator Aylin routine isn’t fucking helping things!” Aydin yells at him. All five of them start shouting at each other, and I take advantage of the distraction and step out of the library. I let my sword dissipate as I retrace my steps to the front door. I grab my bag and bolt. Let thehide and seekbegin, motherfuckers.
* * *
Ispot a familiar auburn-bearded giant in the crowd. He’s wearing a baseball cap, but it does nothing to hide every other prominent feature that Aydin has. It’s like these paladin fuckerswantme to spot them from a mile away.
I spent the first two nights after I snuck out in random motels. I thought for sure there was no way they’d find me, but I was wrong. I’m pretty sure they put some kind of magical LoJack on me, but I can’t figure out how to find it, let alone get rid of it.
It either has to do with Lachlan and I being related, or with the blood I gave them for the beacon spell. Caster lesson number one: don’t give your blood to any fucker for a spell. It seems if I keep on the move they can’t track me as well, but as soon as I stop for too long to eat or sleep, these assholes start to close in on me. So, I changed the game fromhide and seektocatch me if you can.
I pick up my pace as I weave through the pedestrian traffic on the Las Vegas Strip. It’s night time, and the lights are blazing, the booze is flowing, and the streets are packed with people here to have a good time. I sneak a glance behind me and chuckle at the sight of Aydin being accosted by a group of drunk women, who look like they’re here for a bachelorette party. Either that or they really like dicks and find them to be the perfect accessories--we’re talking light-up headbands, necklaces, rings, straws--these ladies are dicked-out.
I take advantage of their sexual harassment of Aydin and dash towards the closest resort. I navigate my way through the casino, past all the shops, and out the back into a parking garage. I sprint toward the exit and hang left, trying to give myself as much of a lead as possible. I don’t hear anyone behind me but better to be safe than sorry.
I run behind the hotel and round a corner that will take me up the side and eventually spit me back out on the Strip. The smell of the alley full of dumpsters hits me, and I pull my shirt up over my nose. I move past the last can of stench when several things fall from the sky to land ten feet in front of me.
Did these idiots just jump from the roof? I skid to a stop as I try to gauge how far it is from the roof of the hotels surrounding me to the ground. I glance around and discover it’s not the paladin in front of me, but something else.
“Hello there, little caster. You’ve certainly been a hard one to pin down,” the lamia smiles flashing just enough fang to leave no doubt as to what he is.
He’s slightly taller than I am and possesses an angelic beauty, just like all the others I’ve encountered. I’ve never seen a female or even a fat fanged fucker. Either lamia are super picky about who can be in their club, or being a lamia makes you stone-cold gorgeous.
I scan the four lamia surrounding me, all of them have brown hair and various shades of alabaster skin. Each of them wears a confident smirk, and I can see the dismissal in their eyes. It’s okay though; underestimation always works in my favor.
“Aww, I’m sorry. If I had known you were looking for me, I would have sorted out your death wish sooner,” I wink at him and watch amusement flicker over his face.
I call on the runes for my short swords, and they flash solid in my hands. The amusement blinks out of the lamia’s expression and is replaced by intense indignation.
“Now, now, little caster, don’t be like that. Be a good girl. I promise we don’t bite...much.”
The four lamia titter at the lame joke as they close in on me.
“Could you be any more unoriginal? Really, you don’t bitemuchis the best you could come up with? How disappointing. I’d tell you to work on your lines, but you’ll be dead soon.”
The lamia furthest to the left spontaneously combusts into flames. The unexpected inferno makes everyone freeze, and I hear heavy footsteps pound against the pavement behind me. I recognize the cadence of Aydin’s giant stride, and he saunters up to me, fireballs alight in his palms as he takes in the scene.
“Well, look at you Little Badass, how did you know I was itching for a good ashing?” Aydin remarks, excitement and anticipation sparkling in his gaze.
“I’m an excellent gift giver. It’s one of my many shining qualities,” I deadpan.
“Why are we just standing around? Let’s do this.” Aydin’s fireballs begin to grow, and I watch, envious.
“You really need to teach me how to do that.”
“Come home with us, and I will,” Aydin tells me with a wink.
Before anyone else can so much as move, Aydin throws a ball at another lamia. It misses and explodes against a wall, and the magic fizzles out. I lose track of what he does after that as two of the lamia descend on me in a flash. I twist and dodge their sharp claws as I slash and stab with my swords to try and create an opening.
Based on the fireballs Aydin’s throwing, I deduce that’s one way to take them out. I’ve always had to remove their heads. Before my runes and magic armory showed up, I would force my power into the fanged fuckers. It would turn them to ash immediately, but I could never quite master how I did it.
Claws skate across my back, and my magic surges inside of me. I twist and slam my short sword down, and the blade takes a forearm and hand clean off. I follow through with my other sword, and the lamia’s head tumbles from his body. I twirl around and catch the chatty lamia with a blade to the stomach.
“Faron’s coming for you. Your free days are numbered. My sire will own you soon enough.”
