Midlife Soul Hunter (The Forty Proof Series Book 8) by Shannon Mayer

Author:Shannon Mayer [Mayer, Shannon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hijinks Ink Publishing
Published: 2023-06-29T18:30:00+00:00

9

“That doesn’t make any sense!” I yelped, mostly because it was really, really bad if Bramble knew about the spells that Gran had hidden here. Because…hang on, confusion chased the fear as quick as a hound on a hare. “If she knew the spells were here and she’s working with the Dark Council, why would she not just give this to them? That doesn’t seem right, Gran. They killed you because they wanted to get to this place.”

Gran paced the small space. “I know, you’re right, but…I think…it’s confusing because I have a kernel of memory of having been followed here once. Only…she could have erased it all if she’d wanted to. There is just one missing piece from that night.” Gran’s eyes swept around the room. “You must burn all of this, quickly. No matter what, it needs to be done.”

I dug into my hip bag and pulled out a lighter that read “Hunk-O-Mania –Shaking that D since 1993” and clicked the striker. It lit right away, and I leaned over and set it to the papers under the shelving unit I’d downed.

I should have been more careful with what I was lighting, should have thought this move through. The paper was beyond tinder dry. The shelving unit billowed up in flames that mimicked the rainbow in about 2.3 seconds.

“Jaysus!” I bellowed and fell backward, against the far wall. As far from the door as I could be. Which, of course, now had a series of flames swelling up between me and escape.

There was not a lot of time to consider the best route. I had to move and move as fast as my aching knees would allow me to go. I jammed the burgundy ribbon-wrapped paper into my hip bag, took a step back, and then ran and leapt through the flames. I closed my eyes as I went through, covering my face with my arms.

There was a distinct smell of singed hair, but my leathers held off the worst of the heat. I hit the ground, stumbled a bit across the loose papers scattered everywhere, and then blasted through the door, into the rain, and then splatted into the mud that had built up even in the short time I’d been in the shack.

The rain was coming in sheets, sideways and with the force of a baby hurricane as it built up speed.

I spun on my ass to see Robert leap out after me, collapsing as if whatever magical strings held him up had been cut as he went through the flames. I scooted through the mud and scooped up the finger bone, tucking Robert back into my bag.

The shack erupted into flames with a boom that rivalled the thunder above my head.

“Hurry, back to the car.” Gran shooed at me, flapping her hands and her skirt to move me along.

I pulled myself out of the muck and slogged back to the fancy little sports car. It came into view, and I grinned, thinking about how much Corb was going to hate me climbing in, covered in mud and stinking like a slough.

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