Witches' Bane (The Soul Eater Book 2) Read Free

in the open for all of New York to see?
    The tablet, clasped between all four of them, steadily brightened and purred its magic into the air. I could taste it, Osiris’s magic: heady, verdant, and powerful.
    Retrieve my tablet.
    I bolted forward and hit the first guy from behind, kicking his legs out from under him. He fell backward into my arms. I shoved him aside and released my right fist into the jaw of another. He spun and went down onto his knees all too easily. A third bolted, taking the tablet with him. He obviously had no idea who he had on his tail, or else he would’ve handed the tablet over and said thank you for the pleasure of losing.
    Whoever he was, he damn well knew how to run. He sprinted off the tennis court, down the path running half the length of the football field, and shot through the bushes like the goddess Neith’s arrow. With my head down and chest on fire, I was gaining on him. I’d have him in a few more strides.
    He glanced back, saw me, and veered left toward the practicing pitcher.
    “Whoa!” the pitcher reeled back while his slack-jawed batting pal looked on.
    Witnesses. Wonderful.
    At the last second, as I reached for Speedy Gonzales’s flapping jacket, he swerved right. I cut him off, tackled him from the side, and drove him face first into first base. He let out a bark and tried to scrabble away, all arms and legs. Skinny bastard. Reaching under him, I got my hands on the tablet and yanked. The curse screamed inside my skull— retrieve my tablet —desperate to complete the compulsion. Retrieve—retrieve—retrieve.
    The skinny guy jerked his head around, showing me a tattoo of a half circle and two dashes below his left eye.
    A priest?! My surprise almost lost me the tablet.
    Why couldn’t it just be someone who’d picked an Egyptian symbol at random and painted it on his face because why the hell not? This was New York. No, he and his pals had to be gods-be-damned priests.
    “ Ba suma, kuir craosira, ”he snarled. Be gone, foul creature .
    So he did know me.
    More words spewed from his lips—Egyptian spellwords. The type a midtown office worker had no right to know. I hadn’t seen a priest in a very, very long time. The zealots had gotten their asses handed to them during the sundering, and yet here four of them were, trying to activate a tablet in a park.
    “Really? You’re trying to spell me ?” I laughed. It sounded sharp and unhinged, but I didn’t care in the slightest.
    “ Koqosa !” Savage!
    A jab to the nose shut him up and freed the tablet from his grip. Finally, I had it in my hands and Osiris’s curse unpicked its claws. Slowly, much too slowly, control lapped back in, filling out all the vital parts of me. Relief flooded in. Rocking back on my heels, with the guy still trapped under me, I sighed. At last, I was my own person again.
    Something smooth and cool pressed against my temple and trembled there. “Drop the tablet,” a nervous voice stammered.
    I was done with these fools. I knocked the guy’s gun arm up, snatched the pistol out of his hand, and tossed it with force behind him. A few seconds later, it landed in the Hudson with a splash. Nervous Guy yelped and staggered back, his bravado going the way of the gun.
    Straightening, I plucked my sweat-soaked shirt away from my chest and frowned at the pitch dirt smothering my borrowed pants. I didn’t care about the suit, but I did care that I had to ride home caked in dust.
    “Now that I have control of my faculties, let me give you some advice.” I shook out my hand, pain crackling across my knuckles where I’d clocked a priest in the face.
    The two of them watched me with not nearly enough fear in their eyes. These priests were new, probably first generation. Their knowledge of the Nameless One had likely been shared in whispers and rumor, and they didn’t believe it.
    The priest I’d punched groaned and spluttered, struggling to find his feet.
    I backed up. “If you’re going to steal from