Hexomancy (Ree Reyes Series Book 4) by Underwood Michael R

Author:Underwood, Michael R. [Underwood, Michael R.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Pocket Star
Published: 2015-09-13T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Still Not a First Date

The crocodile’s maw was a good five feet long and two feet wide. More than big enough to swallow her whole down to the calves.

Ree considered her plan, mental voice taking on a Buffy-esque patter:

Step one: Avoid getting eaten.

Step two: Take out a limb or two.

Step three: Wrasslin’.

Ree slid to the side, giving Drake room to open fire. Rifle-fire vaporized a few of the demon birds, sending the rest to the air in a cloud that was equal parts Hitchcock and Pitch Black.

The crocodile ran-swam forward, too big to just glide through the water, but getting a boost as it went, the winter melt leaving yard-deep water to work with.

“Stay up out of the water,” Ree said, lightsaber dancing around in a defensive pattern, working like a bug zapper as the demon birds swarmed her. A couple of birds winged through her defenses, coming all at once. Beaks and claws carved through her coat and bit into her buff jacket, the best present Drake had ever given her.

“You could just turn around and go the other way, you know,” Ree called out to the crocodile, which seemed to not be in the mood to respond.

This was the problem with nonsapient monsters. They didn’t appreciate good banter. Peter Parker didn’t have this problem, and Buffy’s rank-and-file mooks could at least grunt aggressively in response.

But this time, she was wrong.

The crocodile spoke with a voice like an avalanche. “This is our kingdom, morsel. We are Scale, sovereign of the sewer.” The crocodile bound forward, snapping at Ree.

“The fuck?” Ree cut at the croc’s face, jumping back, training saving her ass despite the talking-monster surprise.

“This is quite unusual,” Drake declared, still picking off the demon birds with deft, controlled shots. The swarm diminished, retreating to form a halo above the croc’s head.

“These sewers are ours now, mortals. The price for tresspassing is death.”

“Dude, I’ve spent more time down here than just about anybody. I’m the Duchess of Pearson’s sewers. Just ask Yelp.”

Scale growled, “Yield, and we will do you the favor of killing you before we consume you.”

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Ree said, drawing her phaser and zapping the croc at the left shoulder.

The creature roared, anger muting out language. And then it charged.

Ree slashed at the creature’s face, and the blade glanced off, raising sparks.

Ummm, that’s not supposed to do that, Ree thought. The thing about lightsabers was that they were fucking lighstabers, and they cut through everything that wasn’t another lightsaber or Cortosis-weaved thing-a-ma-whats-it.

And who the hell ever heard of Cortosis-weaved crocodile scales?

Plowing right through her attack, the crocodile bit down on Ree’s arm. Jagged teeth eviscerated the arm of her coat, and pierced the enchanted buff jacket, drawing blood.

Ree dropped the lightsaber, pain blue-screening her vision.

Scale worried at her, shaking its snout back and forth, teeth tearing into her arm. Without the Buffy magic, the bite would have snapped her bones like twigs.

Screaming seemed like the thing to do.

Blue bolts soared over her shoulder, searing wounds into Scale’s back.

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