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    Bladed Magic
    Bladed Magic
    Bladed Magic
    Ebook89 pages5 hours

    Bladed Magic

    By J.C. Daniels

    3.5/5

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    About this ebook

    A Colbana Files Prequel

    The events of this short story take place between A STROKE OF DUMB LUCK and BLADE SONG. It can be read as a stand-alone.

    For the first time in her life, Kit Colbana’s life was going just fine. She had a nice, easy job. She’d managed to escape the not-so-loving attentions of a family who’d rather see her dead than look at her. She had a roof over her head and she didn’t have to fight for every little thing she had.

    Then she finds herself tangled up with a green-eyed witch by the name of Justin. He’s looking for somebody and for some bizarre reason, he seems to think she can help. All she has to do is say no, and she can go back to her safe little existence. That’s exactly what she needs to do and she knows it.

    Too bad she’s not very good at following her own advice.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherShiloh Walker
    Release dateMar 16, 2014
    ISBN9781625174246
    Bladed Magic
    Author

    J.C. Daniels

    J.C. Daniels exploded in being in May of 2012. She’s the pen name of author Shiloh Walker and was created basically because Shiloh writes like a hyperactive bunny and an intervention was necessary. J.C. is the intervention. The name... J.C. Daniels is a play off of the three people who pretty much run Shiloh’s life.About us both...Shiloh Walker/J.C. Daniels...Shiloh has been writing since she was a kid. She fell in love with vampires with the book Bunnicula and has worked her way up to the more...ah...serious works of fiction. She loves reading and writing just about every kind of romance. Once upon a time she worked as a nurse, but now she writes full time and lives with her family in the Midwest. She writes romantic suspense and paranormal romance, among other things.

    Read more from J.C. Daniels

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      Book preview

      Bladed Magic - J.C. Daniels

      I knew you were in there somewhere.

      What in the hell are you talking about? I stared at him, uneasiness creeping through me. My hand started to heat. In the back of my mind, I heard a soothing murmur. My sword, whispering to me. All is well, child…all is well. I am here…

      A weird refrain for her. I was more used to the words… Call me, I am here. She came to my call when I needed her, something I’d learned when I’d been trapped in the dirt, gasping for air and begging for an escape that I knew didn’t exist.

      Except it had.

      But she didn’t seem to think I needed her.

      Maybe I didn’t. This peacock was annoying, but I didn’t think he was dangerous. Not to me at least.

      A queer smile lit his eyes and he just continued to watch me. I knew something was under all those nerves you wear like a second skin. You ready to come out and play or not?

      Play?

      You think this is a game? I curled a hand into a fist. Surprise ricocheted through me as I realized something—I wanted to punch him. Arrogant, cocky piece of work.

      No. It’s not a game—it’s a hunt and you want in on it as much as I do.

      He was right. I knew it. Not that I’d tell him but he was right. And I still wanted to punch him.

      Something of that must have shown on my face because he laughed. Quick as a wish, he reached out and cupped my chin. Something hot shivered through my veins as his thumb pressed against my lips. Keep that thought, Kitty-kitty. You and I can go a round after we catch this son of a bitch.

      I curled my lip at him, jerking out of his reach. I’m starting to think I’d rather not mess with you. Maybe I should try to do it all by myself.

      Oh, really? He cocked his head, green eyes all but laughing at me.

      Bladed Magic

      A Kit Colbana Short Story

      J.C. Daniels

      The events of this short story take place after A STROKE OF DUMB LUCK and before BLADE SONG

      Also available:

      Blade Song

      Night Blade

      Broken Blade

      Smashwords Edition

      Copyright 2014 Shiloh Walker

      Cover Art by Angela Waters

      Editorial Work Sara Reinke

      This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

      All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews.

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people.

      Please note that if you purchased this from an auction site or blog, it’s stolen property. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. Your support is what makes it possible for authors to continue to provide the stories you enjoy.

      Chapter One

      So, who wants to talk and who wants to die?

      The voice coming from the alley behind TJ’s was cheerful, just a little too cheerful, considering the grim message in his words. It was a little scary, though, because that cheer was not false. Whoever he was, he was all too excited about the thought of making somebody talk, then bleed, then die.

      In that order.

      I could smell the blood in the air and it wasn’t shapeshifter blood. I knew that smell all too well, but that was just because I worked in a bar where blood was spilled. A lot. Shapeshifters liked to fight, after all, and those fights led to bloodshed. Lucky me, I got to clean it up.

      Go inside. That was the voice of common sense.

      I was done working. Nothing for me to do, really. I never did anything, other than work. Well, other than lock myself in my room and read. Or lock myself in the little gym TJ had let me set up and work out. I could do either one of those and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist.

      This one night, I’d felt an odd little pull, something that had tugged me out of the bar. Go back inside, I told myself.

      Something sizzled in the air and I felt it dance across my skin.

      Then there was a yell, followed by a grunt and a series of thuds.

      It was getting really hard to pretend this wasn’t happening. If I went back inside and acted like I hadn’t noticed anything, I’d have a hard time facing myself in the morning.

      My inability to mind my own business will be the death of me. Here lies Kit Colbana, killed by her own curiosity. That will be my epitaph. Still, I couldn’t stay there, shifting from one foot to the other while I listened to somebody getting the hell beaten out of them.

      Keeping to the shadows, I moved down the maze of twisting, narrow little paths and paused when I reached the junction up ahead. It was there. Just ahead and to the right. The smell of blood was stronger and I could hear somebody laughing. It was the man I’d heard earlier—

      Oh, come on, you can do better than that…

      His voice sounded thick now. Not quite so eager to make something talk, then bleed, then die.

      Of course, he was the one talking, in a voice that was thick and wet. He was bleeding, too. I could see that when I peered around the corner. There he was, caught between two wolves—shapeshifters—while a third drew back a hand and slammed it into his gut.

      He crumpled around the fist.

      Who are you working for? A new voice now, somebody big and mean. He drove another fist into the man’s gut as he spoke. I raked him with a look, sized him up. A werewolf.

      The entire tableau was surreal. There were three weres, the one doing the pummeling, while the other two held a brown-haired man immobile.

      One more time, you little fuck. The were smashed a giant fist

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