Swift (Strangetown Magic Book 1) by Al K. Line Read Free Book Online Page B

to try to argue with him, saying the beer was bad. This guy was huge, a proper barbarian, and yes, I mean literally. Club, plaited beard, the lot, and he grabbed Yuki and yanked him over the bar.
    Yuki sort of went ape-shit on the guy. He beat him half to death in a frenzy of fists and kicks and didn't even bother to use magic, just old skool art of fighting like I've never seen. I asked him to teach me but he refused, saying he didn't fight any more, and besides, he had a pub to run.
    Musings over, I realized I'd drunk half my beer without doing what I'd come here to do. Time to get busy. The sooner I got on the job the sooner it would be over. Was I losing it? My edge, what made me such a good Justice?
    No, I was just tired, needed a rest, a sleep. Like for maybe a few decades and when I woke up everything would be back to normal, how it was before the Rift, but that really was just wishful thinking. And anyway, Zeno would be gone then, Mack too, although I did prefer him as a dormouse to a home destroying demon.
    Draining my beer, I put down the ancient glass and fished out my phone. I got the email up with the details of the job and read it through again. Damn this new technology, things were much easier when you had a proper piece of paper, a real live person giving you the info. That's progress for you.
    Time to get to work.
    I caught Yuki's eye and he glided over, raising a brittle white eyebrow. I turned the phone around so he could see the picture I'd been sent. "You know him?" He nodded. "He a good guy?" A shrug of the shoulders. "He hardcore or just playing?"
    "He hardcore. Totally immersed."
    "Thought so. Shame. I gonna have trouble with him?"
    "Lots."
    "Thanks." Yuki Ye nodded and went to serve one of the ghosts that refuse to move on—the beer is that good.
    So, as I'd assumed by the tone of the email and the look of the guy in the picture, this would be a messy as hell Justice job. He wouldn't submit easily, so this would be no picnic, but it never is. It always sucks and it always makes you feel alive like nothing else.
    Time for battle.
    I just had to pee first. The beer always goes through me faster than Yuki can take your money.

 
     
     
    To the Streets
    The city was quiet outside the pub. Ye's is only a few minutes from the heart of the city, the shopping district, a main high street with endless small alleys weaving around the hill and down to the parkland and the river, but it's quiet, set back from the hustle and bustle. The lack of traffic noise was still disconcerting after months of clean air.
    It's not until you listen to the city that you realize what's missing, but it's the roar of engines, the beeping of horns, the squealing of tires. It was just background noise, nothing you noticed until it was gone. Now it's as if the city is sleeping, taking a break from the chaos even though it's never been as crazy as it is now.
    The narrow alley was empty, peaceful and welcome after the mad morning. The beer had dulled my senses somewhat so, with regret, I let a little magic rise and felt it hit my brain like an ice bath. Foggy thoughts were replaced with clarity and my energy boosted, a hit I am always grateful for but one I knew would leave me needing to eat soon.
    Leaning against ancient brickwork, I studied the image of the man on my phone. He had a square, yet long head, thin lips, jaw like granite, thick stubble and the most piercing blue eyes I think I have ever seen. They were cold, heartless, and arrogant. He looked haunted. His hair was a regular brown, hanging halfway down his back, nothing special, neck thick and bunched with muscle just like the rest of him. He was like a troll in miniature, meaning he was massive and looked like he layered muscle onto his body for a living.
    Pumi-Sopa Fialkowski, just Pumi to all that knew him, or knew of him. Meaning everyone Strange. For all its integration, those of us deemed Strange are still miles apart from everyday folk. It's a cloistered world in