Blood Storm Magic by Jayne Faith

Author:Jayne Faith [Faith, Jayne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: urban fantasy
Publisher: Jayne Faith
Published: 2018-05-09T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

I KNEW I had maybe a few seconds before their necromancer tried to wrench me out of the in-between. The skeletal shape I took in limbo land was too thin to be held by the restraints. I slipped my arms out from under the straps and quickly released the ones around my chest, waist, and legs and stepped away from the gurney. I whipped around, looking for an escape. At the same time, I reached out with my senses, searching for the nearest river of underground magic—a ley line from which I could draw power. There was one in the vicinity, but it was miles away. Better than nothing.

I ran for the open doorway and burst through it, only to find myself in another room that was a dead end. Just as I wheeled around to go back the way I’d come, the center of my chest twitched as if my reaper were jerking in alarm. A second later, a ghostly figure materialized in front of me.

Damn. It was the Steins’ necromancer. I had no idea how he was projecting himself into the in-between without the aid of a reaper soul, but the answer had to be some insanely powerful mage magic.

I reached for my chain whip, which the mages had been arrogant enough to leave on my belt. It fell to the ground like a little waterfall of metal.

“This is my realm,” I growled, my voice not really my own.

My forearms met, and the sigils on them lit up with silver light as ley line magic flooded into me. It hurt like hell, but not as bad as Sheila’s torture. At least with this pain, I was in charge. I didn’t absolutely have to use the trick of the sigils to draw ley line magic in the in-between, but I knew it looked impressive and I was going for intimidation.

Silver magic sparked down the length of the whip as I flicked my wrist and sent the power-imbued razor chain flying through the air toward the necromancer’s ghostly image. I wasn’t sure what damage I could do, if any, to a projection, but I was willing to try every trick I had.

The necromancer raised his hands, palms out, and balls of pure white magic pulsed toward me. I quickly changed the trajectory of the whip to intercept the barrage of golf-ball sized orbs. My magic and the mage’s magic clashed and sparked, seeming to burn away the gray mist.

I needed to get past this asshole. I switched the whip handle to my left hand and continued to fend off the attack. Allowing Xaphan, my reaper, to come forth, I raised my right hand. He knew what I wanted to do. The reaper’s blade appeared in my hand, and I stalked toward the mage, my whip flying in a spiral to deflect his magic.

“Get out, or I’ll reap you right now,” I ground out, brandishing the reaping knife.

The mage’s attack faltered and sputtered down to nothing. His image stumbled backward and then winked out of sight.

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