Soul Breaker by Clara Coulson

Author:Clara Coulson
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Knite and Day Publishing

Chapter Twenty

It takes Charun all of five seconds to track me down again, lying prone on the BMW’s broken windshield. His hellish, glowing eyes lock onto my injured form, and he bellows out a word in Etruscan that echoes through the alleys and walkways of Compton Street. I can’t guess the exact meaning of the word, but his tone indicates he’s pissed at me. Pissed enough to power up his hammer with another surge of energy in the hopes of taking my head off my shoulders in a bloody explosion. Like he just did to Jack Brendon, whose limp body rests in a heap of tangled limbs against the bars of the park wall, where it was thrown by the hammer’s strike.

Stepping closer to me, the death demon lifts his mighty weapon to launch it through the air. The thrum of power in the hammer forces my eyes into magic sensing mode, almost a physical tug on my sockets, and the aura around the hammer shifts from a subtle blue glow to a vibrant cobalt radiance, six feet in diameter, with the hammer’s head at its center. Arms wound back in the perfect throwing position, Charun yells the same word at me again, like he’s cussing me out.

My muddled mind finally sharpens enough for me to realize I need to move before I end up Kinsey slurry on the top of a BMW. Wriggling my butt out of the hole in the glass, I use my right arm—the one not dislocated at the shoulder—to haul myself off the windshield and roll down the hood of the car.

None of the glass cut through my combat gear, but the force of the impact bruised half my sensitive skin (and probably a couple of ribs). And so, as I tumble, every bump against the aluminum sends spikes of pain shooting through my entire body. I brace myself for pure agony as I slide off the hood and onto my knees on the asphalt in front of the grille. The landing causes me to seize up, jaw clenched to prevent a scream from sounding off like an alarm on the quiet street, until another rush of adrenaline floods my system at the sight of Charun flinging the hammer at my head.

With my one good arm and leg, I dive out of the path of the oncoming enchanted hammer and shakily somersault to a stop on the sidewalk the instant before the hammer slams into the BMW. The front end of the car implodes, an ear-splitting squeal of bending, breaking metal. And then the massive store of energy in the weapon discharges. The entire car skids backward, wheels barely skimming the road, glass shattering, frame crunching, until the hammer runs out of power. The ruined car collides with the side of a closed convenience store and flops to a stop with a resounding boom.

For a couple of seconds, the car alarm—that, for some reason, stayed quiet when my ass hit the glass—attempts to shriek about a “break-in attempt,” but its sound warbles and gradually dies, the alarm mechanism too damaged.

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