Page 65 of Elven Shadow

“No way…”

“That’s some crazy shit.”

“How’s itdoingthat?”

“How about you shut the hell up and quit distracting me, huh? Christ, I brought a bunch of babies with me.”

“I’ve just never seen something like that before, Boyd. You gotta let us try—”

“The hell I do. This is—hey! You don’t fucking touch this thing, got it?I’mthe only one who touches it.”

“Geez, okay, okay…”

Rebecca almost laughed at the criminal cattiness spilling through the mouth of the alley as she approached the far end. These had to be some Grade-A dumbasses.

Then again, there also wasn’t much to say for the woman with the giant purse walking around this part of town like she owned the place.

The woman was having one hell of an unlucky night.

Or one hell of a good-luck streak with Rebecca around, depending on how she looked at it.

Rebecca’s steps quickened as the sounds of violence grew louder. Her blood sang in her veins.

Tonight was about to get interesting.

It never even occurred to her how many dark, powerful secrets a gang of strangers might have had hidden up their sleeves.

16

When Rebeccafinally emerged from the opposite end of the alley, her stiletto heels clacking away, the scene before her made her pause.

Not many did, but this was one for the books.

The woman with the giant purse hung suspended in the air above the empty lot, her limp feet dangling a yard above the asphalt and the rest of her body almost entirely slack. Her wide eyes bulged in her head, her cheeks and neck red and swollen, as if someone had grabbed a hold of her by the throat to lift her up off her feet.

Definitely magic involved, but what Rebecca didn’t immediately know how to categorize was the startling image of a garishly costumed clown hovering in the air directly in front of the woman.

As if clowns weren’t ridiculous enough without any real purpose, this one seemed to be made of smoke.

Thick, bluish-gray smoke with speckles of color in the fuzzy pom-poms protruding from the thing’s costume; the enormous, round rubber nose; and the tight, wild curls flaring away from its head in all directions, marked with subtly translucent rainbow stripes.

Whatever kind of ridiculous new magic this was, it held the woman by the throat in mid-air. She couldn’t seem to stop staring at the clown, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her mouth worked quickly open and closed, but no more sound came out.

The smoke clown, on the other hand, was incredibly animated, rearing its head back with a soundless cackle before swiping outstretched hands left and right. No more solid than the streams of mist rising up off the city streets on a warm summer’s night.

If the woman could have moved or screamed every time the smoke clown swiped at her, the parking lot would have been a hell of a lot louder. But apparently, she’d lost her only ability.

Rebecca eyed the stupefying scene and tilted her head. “Wellthisis new.”

At the sound of her voice, the five other idiots in the parking lot all jumped to attention, as if physically struck, and turned their seething glares onto her.

“What happened to you?” one of them asked. The Cruorcian eyed her up and down much like the human woman had, and his sneer intensified. “You’re on the wrong side of town looking like that. Though there’s a whole strip of cheap motels just right down that way.”

His cronies sniggered and jostled each other.

Judging by the growling whine of his voice, Rebecca pegged him as their ringleader. Allegedly named Boyd.

She inhaled deeply, let it all out in a long, exacerbated sigh, and spread her arms, “I don’t get why everyone has a problem with my clothes…”

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