Southwest Truths (Semiautomatic Sorceress Book 3)

incident, claiming it proved the American Council for Sorcery Safety had a point. He was floating the idea of Arizona passing laws to better control sorcery.
Lyssa snorted. The man would be disappointed. The Society’s treaties with the United States specified that only the federal government could restrict them, and even then, primarily via the EAA. The last thing the Elders would tolerate was some local yokel politician trying to boss the Illuminated around.
She let the interview float out of her mind. Based on what he’d said at dinner, Bill didn’t seem like the kind of man to listen to the ACSS. She didn’t know if he represented the average Shadow in Arizona, but he was the one she was going to be spending the most time around, other than the guys she saw at the range. An inch of progress was still progress.
Chills shot through her body. Shadowy hands clawed at the corners of her eyes.
The perimeter alarm spells weren’t disturbing in and of themselves, but the mild sorcery tightening her chest from the outside told her it wasn’t a delivery driver or an Arbor Scout outside hocking strawberry wafers.
Lyssa leaped to her feet and sprinted into her bedroom. She hadn’t brought Jofi along on her date to cut down on inopportune interruptions. She revealed and opened her safe in record time. Someone knocked loudly on the front door.
After jamming a penetrator magazine into one gun and conventional bullets into the other, she jogged back to her front door, holding them behind her. She squinted through the peephole. A sweaty fat man in a tracksuit stood on the other side. He was the source of the sorcery.
Lyssa frowned down at her dress, regretting not changing into something more functional instead of slumping on the couch. There was nowhere to hide her guns without help. She set the gun loaded with the conventional bullets on the floor and held the other gun behind her back before opening the door.
“It’s the middle of the night,” Lyssa began. “You have ten seconds to exp—”
“Miss Corti, be quiet and listen to me carefully,” interrupted the sweaty man in Samuel’s voice.
Lyssa stared at him in disbelief. It wasn’t as if Samuel couldn’t use any sort of disguise given his essence, but a big guy in a tracksuit was so opposite his usual choices it would have made her laugh if not for the harshness in his voice.
She hadn’t done anything since their meeting. There was no reason for him to storm over to the house.
“I’m listening.” Lyssa shrugged.
He looked her up and down. “Go into your bedroom and put on something more practical. Be quick about it. You’re to come with me immediately.” He gestured at a gray sedan parked in her driveway. “But you’re to leave your enchanted weapons.”
Lyssa scoffed. “Did Antoine mix you up a hallucinogenic potion? I’m not going anywhere unarmed until you tell me what’s going on.”
“I have my reasons,” Samuel barked, his face contorted in anger. “This is one time I can’t countenance your stubbornness. It’s vital you leave your weapons here.”
“This is unadvisable,” Jofi said. “I often question your more extreme conclusions, but there’s a significant chance this is a trap.”
“Don’t I know it,” Lyssa muttered. She backed away, her gun still behind her back. Her gaze dipped to her other pistol. “You want me to leave my home and my weapons and not wear my regalia? No damned way. If this is some sort of test of loyalty, too bad. I’ll be too vulnerable. There’s being not paranoid, and there’s being stupid.”
Samuel scowled. He took a deep breath. “No. You’re right. It’d be foolish. Wear your regalia and disguise it as you wish, but I must insist you leave the weapons. I’m not saying you should be unarmed, but I’d ask you not to bring those particular weapons.”
“He wants to remove your ability to use enchanted rounds,” Jofi said. “That will limit your combat effectiveness. That still points to a trap.”
“I can bring a gun as long as it isn’t Jofi?” Lyssa asked.
Samuel nodded. “But hurry. I can’t be sure about certain things. I’ll be waiting in the car.”
Lyssa slammed the door and grabbed the pistol on the floor. “I’ve never seen him like that.”
“Can you be completely sure it’s him?” Jofi asked.
“No, but he’s got the voice down.” Lyssa headed toward her bedroom. “As long as I have the Night Goddess, I can get away if it’s a trap, but Samuel might have a good reason for asking me to leave you behind. Weird spirit sorcery, for example.”
Lyssa’s heart sped up. There was one good explanation for why Samuel wanted Jofi left at home. He might want to talk about the true nature of the spirit.
She didn’t understand. Lee was the one who was supposed to be monitoring Jofi and Lyssa, and he had his special procedures and shard set up to make sure the spirit never knew about him or suspected too much. Knocking loudly on the door at night and insisting Lyssa leave Jofi behind was suspicious.
“It’s fine.” Lyssa put the pistols back in the safe and grabbed her regalia. After putting it on and willing it to look like jeans, a t-shirt, and a white jacket, she stuffed a couple of conventional magazines into her pockets, along with a Glock and her batons.
Jofi interrupted her on her way to her door. “And you don’t find this peculiar or concerning?”
“If he wanted to set up an ambush, he wouldn’t have let me get my regalia,” Lyssa replied. “It’s nighttime, too. Don’t worry. I’ll be back soon.”
“Be cautious,” Jofi said. “This situation is highly irregular.”
“My life is highly irregular.” Lyssa jogged out to the car, looking up and down the street. She spotted a teen on a longboard in the distance, but the only strong sorcery she felt was from the car and her house. She went to the passenger door and kept one hand on the grip of her pistol. For all their abilities, a