Southwest Truths (Semiautomatic Sorceress Book 3)

in an arc toward the roof of the motel. “What do you hope to accomplish?”
“I don’t know.” Lyssa spun toward him. “How about you die and I don’t? Don’t get pissy since you showed up to kill me and got cocky, and I bloodied your nose. I’m not saying you can’t still put up a good fight, but I’m going to make you pay for it. I’m not going down like Lubon.”
Tristan landed on the edge of the roof. “If I’d intended to kill you, you’d be dead. I wouldn’t show myself unnecessarily,” he replied, sounding disappointed. “Did you think I’d be so foolish?”
Lyssa kept her pistol trained on him while ejecting the magazine of her other pistol one-handed with the help of her thigh. She flipped the penetrator magazine into her pocket while fishing out another explosive magazine and jammed it in, also one-handed with the help of her leg.
Tristan didn’t react. Had he let her reload on purpose, or was he not worried?
She’d hurt him. The burns all over his regalia confirmed that. Maybe he was at his limit because of the earlier summoning.
“You’re a damned coward,” Lyssa shouted. “If you were the Eclipse everyone says you are, you wouldn’t need to take hostages. I don’t care if you take me with you, but I’m not letting you get away.”
“I never had any intention of harming those Shadows,” Tristan replied. “It was only necessary that you believed I did. I wanted to confirm with my own eyes what your limits were, both in sorcery and morality. Not every Torch worries about Shadows.”
Lyssa shook her guns. “Our job is to protect people.”
“Your job is to kill and wound and destroy.” Tristan sounded amused. “You can’t be so naïve as to believe all Torches do it because they care about helping people.”
“Oh? You’re a good guy all of a sudden, and the Torches are all awful?” Lyssa snorted. “Give me a break.”
Tristan’s veil covered his face, leaving her unable to read his expression. “I’m a ruthless killer, and I have been for a long time. I’m far more ruthless and brutal than you since you only act upon contracts and orders and in self-defense. I’ve killed without permission many times. It wouldn’t be going too far to claim I’m a coldblooded murderer.”
“So I’ve heard.” Lyssa flexed her hands while keeping both guns pointed at the roof but not at Tristan. “And that’s what I don’t get about all this. Why are you trying to kill me? Why did you kill Lubon? It doesn’t track with what I thought I knew about you.”
“Then consider the implications.” Tristan lifted his hands in a placating gesture. “I’m not trying to kill you. Do you think if I wanted to do that, I’d announce my presence or bother with the shards to keep this private? I would have waited for my opportunity and struck quickly and efficiently, not toyed with you like some feeble egocentric villain. Ask yourself, have you ever heard of me toying with my prey?”
“No, but a man can pick up new hobbies when he gets arrogant.” Lyssa shrugged. “What was all this, then? Entertainment? A way to keep your skills fresh?”
“I told you before. It was a test, an evaluation of your abilities and your personality under pressure.”
“I would advise against trusting this man,” Jofi said. “You have no reason to believe him.”
“Yeah, I don’t need to be told that,” Lyssa whispered. “But talking’s better than fighting.”
The numbness on her arm and chest started to fade. It’d probably take a day or two for her regalia to regenerate, given the size of the holes.
Tristan motioned toward the pool. “It would have been pointless to test you while you fought the mercenaries. You’d set up that environment to your advantage. I needed to test you in a disadvantageous environment and also confirm whether you’d be willing to sacrifice Shadows to protect yourself.”
Lyssa scoffed. “You’re saying I should be happy you didn’t try to kill me in the shower?”
“Yes. I’ve done it before.” Tristan sounded amused. “Striking when the prey least suspects it maximizes success. I’m not a Torch, I’m an Eclipse. I exist to assassinate those who have strayed from the appropriate path. By the time I’m targeting someone, they’ve forfeited both their life and their dignity.”
“I don’t care what you do,” Lyssa replied. “Except when it involves me and my friends. You say you were testing me? The thing is, you just admitted you knew about the ghost town setup. Was that what you were doing with Lubon? Testing him when you cut off his head? Is that your new thing, taking a trophy when someone fails your test?”
Tristan asked, “What have you heard about me?”
Lyssa saw no reason to lie. “That you’re practically a rogue. You kill Illuminated without authorization, and the only reason the Tribunal hasn’t come down on you is that every target was someone they determined would have needed it anyway. Plus, I think they’re all a little afraid of you. They probably figure it’d cost too many good Sorcerers to take you down, and as long as you’re cleaning up future messes, the math works to their advantage.”
“That is mostly correct.” Tristan gave a firm nod. “I could have killed any of the Shadows here with ease. I could have bound spirits closer to them. I could have chosen not to use the shards to protect and conceal this place to bring more, including law enforcement, and made it easier for them to come to die.”
“You want an award?” Lyssa scoffed. “You murdered another Eclipse, and you sent mercenaries after me. Those mercenaries seriously injured a Torch.”
“I sent no mercenaries after you,” Tristan replied. “If you’re as well-informed as you seem to be, you know I am the only one who kills my prey. What sort of Eclipse relies on Shadows to do their work?”
Lyssa couldn’t deny that. It was one of the reasons she’d dismissed him as a suspect, but she kept circling back