Spirelli Paranormal Investigations Box Set 2 by Kate Baray

Author:Kate Baray
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2016-12-05T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

“What the hell?” Jack felt Marin’s hot breath blow down the neck of his shirt. He moved further into the room, giving Marin space to enter. “Clear. You wanna have a look? Check for wards?”

Stinks like death.

Marin tucked her wings in tight against her body to fit through the hole she’d made. And as she scanned the room for signs of magic, Jack checked her wounds. Three neat holes, and none of them had stopped bleeding. A thin trickle of red seeped from each wound when she moved. Her scales hadn’t done jack to protect her.

“Recent death magic—as in, the book’s here now?”

Yes.

She made a chuffing noise that warmed the air.

“Yeah? Laugh all you want, but you look like shit and you’re not healing like you should.”

Her long neck snaked around, and her reptilian eyes burned with a subtle green glow.

“Your eyes are glowing. You might fix that—or I can just paint an iridescent X on your forehead.”

Her lids lowered, and when she opened her eyes the glow was gone.

There’s a basement.

“In Texas? Maybe it’s another exit.”

Jack felt more than heard a low rumble.

“Okay, there’s a basement.”

He followed her gaze to a point a few feet away along the interior wall. He wouldn’t have spotted it in the darkness, but knowing where to look made all the difference. “You have enough juice to blow through that?”

This time, the low, vibrating rumble made his stomach churn. Head injuries and dragon growls did not mix well. Someone was a cranky dragon.

Jack’s stomach cramped and his head pulsed anew with pain. A darkness choked at the back of his throat, stealing his breath.

Death magic.

“No shit,” he coughed out.

Holding his side, he pointed at the trapdoor in the floor—but Marin’s jaws were already wide. Orange flame burned through the door.

Jack blinked through the haze. Stinging smoke hung in the air, and tears rolled down his face.

The cramping in his stomach had stopped—so maybe they’d interrupted whatever the hell was happening down in that basement.

He wiped his face with the hem of his T-shirt. Only then did he see that she’d blasted several feet beyond the door.

And he’d been inhaling bits of dead-guy ash.

That left three death-magic zealots doing who the hell knew what in that basement.

He looked at the narrow opening and then at Marin. “Be back shortly. If that shit starts up again, torch the entire building.”

Marin huffed out a bit of steam. Then she sank down carefully on her haunches in front of the basement.

Be careful, you ass.

Jack lifted his gun in a salute and started down the stairs.

The steps under his feet were charred, but they felt solid and held his weight.

He trod softly—but what was the point? They knew he was coming. Then he felt it again: that terrible sense of dread.

He swallowed and sped up his descent.

The bottom of the steps opened up to the right, so he hugged the left wall, hoping he’d be able to quickly sweep the entire room.

Three more steps…

One man with a gun—shooting.

Jack fell to the ground and fired.

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