Shift (Strangetown Magic Book 2) Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  New Beginnings

  It's Hormonal!

  Totally Tropical

  You Can't Choose Your Family

  Things Heat Up

  New Orders

  Naughty Demon

  Rain

  Visit to Pumi's

  The Monster Inside

  The Trouble with Men

  On the Hunt

  Memories

  Eek

  Naughty Soldiers

  Time to Leave

  A Partner

  Very Enterprising

  Damn Weather

  A Nice Cuppa

  On the Hunt

  A Ripple

  A Lucky Break

  Bugger

  Cryptastic

  No Visitors

  A Final Push

  Still Alone

  No Help

  A Homecoming

  Breathe Deep

  A Downer

  I'm a Grown-Up

  Ticking off the List

  No Rest

  The Comedown

  My Sister

  Huh?

  A Street Party

  Why Me?

  Monsoon

  Getting Closer

  Nasty Juju

  Poor Mr. Moppet

  Bit of a Problem

  Losing It

  Lost It

  Catch that Witch

  Pint, Please

  A Warning

  No Remorse

  Ugh

  Shift

  Strangetown Magic Book 2

  Al K. Line

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  Copyright © 2016, Al K. Line. All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  New Beginnings

  "Now, about that date?" said Pumi, releasing my hand and stepping in front of me so I had to stop. Robin winked and walked on ahead to catch up with Mack.

  "A date sounds perfect. Maybe we should get cleaned up a little first?" I offered, indicating the mess he was in and frowning at my own less than ladylike appearance. Okay, maybe I never look like a lady, but I can dress smart when the need arises, although I'm not a fan of ironing.

  "Haha, yeah, guess we could do with a hose down. Or a soak for a few hours. A nice shower?"

  He was smiling like a total idiot. Maybe it was the fact we'd succeeded and the Rift had taken the Strange, including the damn dark elves, back where they belonged, or maybe it was the thought of a steamy shower—together. Heck, now I was grinning, and it wasn't because of the Rift.

  A question came to me then, although it was hard to get my thoughts in order after all that had happened. I wondered if I was still in shock, if we all were. "Do you have an actual home? A house? Surely you don't live at that scrap yard?"

  "What do you think I am, a pauper? Swift, I'm an ancient man, have fought in the gladiatorial ring and—"

  "Yeah, yeah. Killed Romans, tangoed with tigers, all that good stuff. So, you've got your own place?"

  "Of course I do. It's not far, and it's pretty nice, even if I do say so myself. Hardly anyone knows it's mine, only a few close friends. You know how many Strange are afraid of me, don't trust me, so I keep it private. I kept away from it after I became a wanted man, just to be sure, but now... Should be all right, I guess." Pumi shrugged, but I could tell he wasn't confident life would go back to normal for him.

  "Pumi, it's fine. Levick spread the word that you weren't to blame for the girl, you know that. With all that's happened, I think you're the last thing on most people's minds."

  "But not yours?" he said, smiling again.

  Damn but he had a goofy grin. If you could look past the strangely handsome yet somehow peculiar face, past the muscles and the confidence he oozed because of the things he'd done, seen, and survived, he was still like the rest of us. He just wanted to be accepted. To be needed. To be loved.

  "No, I think we could have something. Maybe. Life isn't exactly simple at the moment, what with all this crap that's gone down, but we can try, right?"

  "You bet." Pumi reached out and took my hand, and for the first time in many, many years, I felt a peace I'd forgotten could exist.

  I pulled at my tight clothes, feeling flushed and strangely hot. I began to sweat, which was at odds with the sexy witch aura I was hoping to project. Instead, I felt like a kid that couldn't talk to boys. "Damn, why is it so warm?"

  "I have that effect on women." Pumi looked amused by my discomfort, but then his smile turned to a frown and he began sweating himself. "Hell, it is hot, isn't it? It's humid, too."

  Our hands were slick now, so we let go of each other, the heat rising until I felt like I'd stepped into a sauna. Was this just the comedown from the craziness of the Rift? Energy heating the air after such a monumental disruption? Maybe the rain? Sure, that explained it. The rain that doused the dust, it was steaming off the scorched earth at ground zero, creating a hot, sweaty microclimate. It would be gone soon, dissipating as everything returned to normal.

  "It's just the aftereffects of the Rift," I said, saying it out loud to convince myself it was the truth. But something didn't feel right, and I knew that was too simple an explanation.

  "You think? Damn, I'm burning up here." Pumi was searching the busy streets, as if he could find an answer to the temperature increase, but we were halfway to my home, nothing to see but terraced houses.

  This wasn't right. I could feel it in the Pool, a ripple of wrongness running through our local magic source. It was also brimming over with untouched magic.

  Now so many Strange had left, the Pool was back how it had been and then some. It was fat with magic, meaning those of us capable of drawing it would be able to take more than ever before. This was both good and bad. I knew from past experience that when there was an abundance of magic it caused Strange to act even stranger—hungry for power, they overdosed and lost the plot a little.

  I sighed, knowing the next few days would be busy, little time for this Justice to rest and recuperate. But I had to. I was starving hungry after the terrible powers used and experienced at the scene of the Rift, and I needed sleep more badly than a bear in a cold winter.

  "Swift, Swift? Hey!" Pumi had an arm on my shoulder, shaking me gently.

  "Sorry, I was miles away. Just trying to figure this thing out. I'm too tired to think straight, though. Need to eat and sleep. You coming to mine?"

  "No, not now. Maybe later tonight? I'm gonna go and get clean and eat until I can't eat any more. Then sleep, must sleep."

  Pumi called a goodbye to Robin and Mack, then headed off down a side street at a fast pace. Rushing to get home before he crashed and fell asleep in the middle of the road.

  I caught up with my sister and peculiar demon friend, and said, "Are you guys feeling the heat? Do things feel wrong to you?"

  "All good here, babe," said Mack beaming, clearly still very pleased that he'd remained when so many had been taken. "Just a little cool for me still, but better than usual. You humans turned up the heating, right? Got some kind of dial? Back home we usually just open a new furnace, pop our head in if it gets chilly."

  "No, Mack, we don't have a dial. How would that work?" I held a hand up. "Don't answer that, it was rhetorical. So you can feel it getting warmer?"
I asked Robin.

  "It's warming up, sure. Probably just from all the magic." She shrugged her perfect shoulders. "Don't worry about it. Relax. We did it, Sis, we beat the elves. Be happy. You got a new boyfriend and—"

  "Hey, he's not my boyfriend."

  "Whatever. You got a potential boyfriend, then. Come on, let's go home."

  We weaved through the streets, busier and busier as everyone left the scene of the chaos, many rushing past to escape the soaring temperature. It was clear it wasn't just me. People were swearing and grumbling, looking red-faced and sweaty. Many already stripped down to minimal clothing.

  I'm no good with the heat. It makes my makeup run and my hair go frizzy. Not that my sister has that problem. How she can stay looking as though she's got a personal, semi-clad guy wafting her with a giant fan and never seems to sweat, her clothes don't hang limp and her hair looks salon ready, is a mystery and just not fair.

  But then, that's who she is. Damn annoying at times. Gorgeous, cool, calm, unflappable, and oozing sexiness. All I was oozing was sweat and salt, and boy did I need a shower. She looked like she was as fresh as always, but I knew her, and knew she felt it. She kept brushing her hair from her face, dabbing gently at her forehead.

  And Mack was chirpier than ever, feeling more at home as the temperature rose.

  "What the hell?" I dropped flat to the road as thunder filled the air before it was ripped in a vicious whirlwind, dragging at my hair and clothes like I was gonna be sucked up into the sky. "Get down!" I shouted to Robin and Mack, but Mack just stood there, looking up, while Robin carefully lowered herself to the ground.

  It was helicopters, huge great beasts of things. Military. Guys with large weapons peered at us and the others in the street, now prone and shouting at the sky. Well, it didn't take them long. They leave us to sort out the problem on our own, then the moment it's gone here they are. Too late to do anything but maybe take the glory for what we did. We dealt with the chaos caused by the Rift, not them. Not the army, not the police, certainly not the bloody politicians, but us, the inhabitants of Strangetown.

  The helicopters passed, soon just tiny dots in the sky, and we carried on walking.

  At the end of the street we stopped, our way barred. Robin and I exchanged glances, knowing this wouldn't be good. "These bastards," she whispered. "Bet they heard what we were doing and were on standby. Would've been nice if they bothered to help when we needed it."

  "Just play nice, and we'll be home soon. Mack, don't do anything, er, too demonic."

  Mack crouched down, still towering over our heads, and said, "You sure you don't want me to slap these bitches about a little? I can get medieval on their asses?"

  I rolled my eyes at his movie reference and said, "No, be good," then turned to face the line of soldiers blocking our way.

  "Okay, shitheads, move right now or my buddy here will bite your bits off and stick them up your fat behinds." Look, I was hot and bothered, tired and hungry, and feeling a little angry about their unwelcome intrusion into our city. Plus, there was something else. With magic rising inside me, I was getting some very nasty vibes from a number of these guys.

  Fifteen men raised their rifles and pointed them straight at us.

  "Hi, I'm Swift. Welcome to Strangetown," I muttered, before all hell broke loose.

  It's Hormonal!

  Over the years, especially since we let the world at large know about the existence of magic, people have asked how come I don't act my age. Yes, it's always Normals, never Strange that ask, as they know the score.

  And I tell 'em, it's hormonal. They laugh, and usually say something dumb like, "Yes, but if you really are five hundred years old, then you should act like it."

  And I say something like, "Shut your mouth, or I'll shut it for you." At least I'd like to. Instead, I'd try to explain to them, before that became about as much fun as being stomped by a troll and I gave up.

  I honestly don't know what they expect of me. Yes, I'm five hundred years old, and have magic coursing through my veins, but I'm also on magic time. Meaning, I have life experience, but my body, and that means my hormones, the way my brain is wired, everything about me, is that of a thirty-something.

  And guess what? Thirty-somethings do stupid stuff now and then. Same as young kids do. Same as old people do.

  Most people don't understand how the body functions, but I do. I can look inside myself and see it working. See chemical combinations shunted this way and that, watch moods and emotions change because of subtle alterations that happen with or without my control.

  How wise and oh-so-insightful and knowledgeable about life is anyone at my apparent age? Exactly. Acting your age is utterly meaningless. If you took any "normal" old human being of say eighty years and put them in a young person's body how different would they be to any other young person? I can tell you right now that the answer is not very.

  You don't suddenly get to a certain age and have all the answers to the complexities of human emotions or why people act irrationally or do stupid stuff, you just get aching knees and are more inclined to moan about the younger generation and how expensive milk and bread is now.

  Basically, I live my life with this motto—"Ah, fuck it. Life's for living and I'll stay young for as long as I damn well can." Who wouldn't want to live like that? What's the point of existing for maybe millennia if you just get old and can't be bothered? And go around telling everyone that they never did it like that when you were a girl?

  So, the next time you wonder why I don't "act my age" excuse me if I skip the explanation and go straight for the punching in the face bit.

  Which is exactly what I did to the guy who stepped forward, rifle raised, stupid grin on his face as he winked at his mates then got right up in my face.

  "Look here, lads," he said, turning to address the other soldiers. "Two hotties and a freak, and one of them has a potty mouth."

  "I warned you," I said, reading the man like an open book. The magic in me so strong I saw who he was, what he was. What he had done in the past on tours of duty in foreign lands when he forgot he was meant to protect people and serve his country. He was the worst kind of human being. He made me ashamed to be of the same race, and my anger overflowed.

  Time slowed as magic practically slammed into me and I opened myself to it utterly. I pulled it from the brimming Pool. The rush was awesome and unlike how it had been for months. I'd adjusted to there being less magic to call on, and the usual draw I made gave me a hell of a lot more than I'd bargained for.

  As my magic reached out to the soldier, the acts he'd committed and the despicable ones he was keen to carry out swam around his head like holograms, a 3D glimpse into the mind of the rapist. Robin swore and I lost the plot.

  My fist slammed out hard and fast, and I watched in slow motion as the man's sneering, obnoxious face didn't even have time to act surprised when magic-fueled might aimed right for his nose.

  My impending satisfaction at feeling his nose break beneath my fist turned to utter shock as rather than connecting with his twisted features, my fist, shining bright orange and angry as all hell, punched a hole clean through his face and out the other side.

  Time returned to normal as I pulled back in horror and stared right through a massive gap where most of the dude's face should have been. His body tumbled sideways while I studied my hand, astounded. It was covered in bits of bone and blood, scraps of his flesh lodged under short fingernails.

  The other soldiers gasped, unable to get the image they saw to compute. Motionless with disbelief at the sheer violence of the act.

  I was pretty stunned, too, but pulled myself together, and said, "Any more of you want to try it on? Don't even think about using your guns, or my buddy here, the giant demon, in case you somehow missed the fact he's sixteen feet tall and has lots of big, sharp teeth, will pull all your limbs off. Slowly." They shook their heads furiously, looking like those little things you stick onto your dashboard with the heads that bobble a
bout on springs. "Good." We began walking—they moved aside to let us pass.

  I sauntered away casually, feeling anything but relaxed and confident, but refusing to let them see even an ounce of fear. Robin was all breezy and even gave a smile and a wave over her shoulder, and Mack puffed out his chest and swaggered, looking pretty intimidating, I have to admit.

  Just because the soldiers had piled in, didn't mean these supposed peacekeepers could go around getting off on what they thought were defenseless women.

  Maybe this would serve as a warning to them all—try to act anything but professional, dare even think about rape, and you were liable to discover that your face was on the sidewalk and that you were very much dead.

  So, yeah, if you ever come to visit, be nice. We most definitely bite.

  Totally Tropical

  "You punched a hole in that guy," whispered Robin, as astonished as me.

  "I know, but I didn't mean to." I fought down a sickness, a disgust, and wiped my gore-stained hand on my already soaked clothes, the sweat helping to clean me up a little. "I wasn't ready for the Pool to be so full. Make sure you adjust your magic intake," I warned, knowing I would have to make a considerable readjustment myself.

  "That was seriously hardcore, Swift."

  I don't know if Robin was impressed or disgusted, probably a little of both. All I knew was I wasn't proud of what I'd done, and certainly hadn't intended it, but that man was the worst kind of nasty. Although it was terrible, I at least felt some satisfaction knowing he wouldn't be taking advantage of his position and hurting any women—now, or ever again.

  "Hey, don't worry, my little chicitas," said Mack, ambling along as if all was well in the world. "I know you gals aren't keen on men doing the old, in-out, in-out, without you giving the go-ahead, so he got what he deserved." Mack carried on walking, whistling and smiling at life—or in his case immortality—in general, but Robin and I stopped dead in our tracks, horrified.

  Mack turned and frowned. "What? Thought you were all hot and sticky and wanted a shower?"