Storm (The Storm Chronicles Book 6) by Skye Knizley Page A

Aspen concentrated and drew on her magik as she ran. Fire leapt from her fingertips and struck the creature as it passed through the window. It exploded, covering Ford in ash. Aspen slammed into her a beat later and they fell to the water as more of the creatures, vicious birdlike creatures with black wings and a curving scorpion tail, burst through. One struck Aspen in the shoulder and she screamed in pain. She felt a momentary dizziness from the venom, then pitched forward as blackness claimed her.

CHAPTER FIVE
    Seattle, Queen Anne Ave.
    It was still early, but in Seattle most burger joints served all day long. Rick’s was no different, in that it was the food and atmosphere that made it different. The restaurant had been in place since the fifties and, aside from a recent facelift it was the same as it had been when it first opened. It consisted of a central building with an overhang big enough to protect six tables and as many as thirty people. Food was served either at the windows or by the carhops that skated between the cars like figure-skaters of old. In the shining sun with only a handful of classic cars sitting in the lot, the morning could have been mistaken for one in 1967.
    Raven sat on the hood of the Shelby and chewed on a sausage sandwich smothered in ketchup and egg. She normally wouldn’t touch such a gross combination, but she felt hungry for the first time in days. She finished her meal and balled the foil wrapper up in her left hand. She was considering a second sandwich when she felt Aspen pull on their connection. Raven closed her eyes and could see a corridor in a place she didn’t recognize, but was undoubtedly the Crescent Star. Aspen was running toward a blonde woman as the windows around them exploded inward. A moment later, the connection went dead, leaving Raven feeling cold. She couldn’t feel Aspen at all.
    Raven tossed her garbage into a nearby bin and started the car. Two minutes later she was weaving her way through traffic to the Seattle FBI range. On the way she dialed Weaver’s number. He picked up on the second ring.
    “Weaver.”
    “Be at the range in twenty minutes,” Raven said.
    “Storm, we’ve been through this—”
    “I said be there,” Raven snapped.
    She tossed the phone aside and pressed the accelerator hard enough it felt like it was going to break beneath her foot. When she parked behind the range just over twenty minutes later, she was sweating in spite of the cold weather. She couldn’t feel Aspen, it was as if there connection was severed. The only time she had felt that was when the Alpha-lycan had almost killed her two years before.
    Raven pushed through doors and hurried down the steps to where Weaver was waiting. He had an annoyed look on his face. He opened his mouth to say something and Raven raised a finger. “Don’t. Just don’t.”
    “I’m not afraid of you, Storm,” Weaver said.
    Raven lowered her sunglasses knowing full well her eyes were the feral slits of an angry vampire. “Good for you, you’re tougher than you look. Set it up.”
    Weaver blanched and turned away. “It already is. The first part, anyway.”
    Raven followed him to the end of the range where the red man had been set up. Weaver placed the Sig on the counter along with a magazine of ammunition. Raven loaded the weapon and closed the slide with a clack that echoed throughout the range.
    “You already failed today, Storm,” Weaver said. “What makes you think you can do it now?”
    “Because I’m not a monster,” Raven said.
    She held the weapon at her side. Though she knew it was finely crafted, it felt wrong in her hand. Light. Her fingers itched for her Automag. She shook off the sensation and pushed the dummy out of her way. As it fell back she moved blindingly fast. The Sig barked and she put two holes in the target down range and a third the middle of the dummy’s head, sending it to the floor again.
    Raven glanced at the timer. Less than two seconds had passed