Death Match (A Magic Bullet Novel Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

disinterest. She touched a set of batons adhered to the wall. "What about these? I was a baton twirler in middle school. I kinda miss it."
    I nodded toward the baton. "They're called yantoks."
    "Or Escrima sticks," Farah added. "Go on. Give them a whirl."
    Pinky scrunched up her perfect button nose. "Dunno. These aren't the kind of batons I twirled. They're much bigger." She removed one from the wall and held it in her hand. It was a slender black stick, about twenty-six inches in length.
    "You could use a spell on them," I said. "Give them a boost when your magic is flowing."
    "But if someone shuts down your magic, you still have protection," Farah finished.
    Pinky studied the stick. "Put a spell on this?"
    "Sure. Why not?" I'd seen everything under the sun imbued with magic at some point. A tube of lipstick, sunscreen, a dog's water bowl. Okay, maybe the dog's water bowl was more about a lazy owner than offensive and defensive weapons, but still. Magic.
    She pulled out her phone. "I'll see if I can find a spell that would work..."
    "Online?" Farah queried and peered over her shoulder.
    Pinky tapped the screen. "It's the Enclave's website. There's a section for spells."
    I wrenched the phone from her fingers. "The official Enclave website? Are you kidding me? No, no, no."
    "That's how I learn lots of my spells," Pinky argued.
    "None of the good ones," I replied. "Those need to come from the brow chakra." I poked her forehead with my index finger.
    Pinky slid her phone into her pocket. "Mage magic isn't like djinn magic."
    "That's true," I said. A mage's magic came from harnessing external forces. They needed spells or runes in order for their talent to manifest, whereas djinn magic came from within. A djinni's magic was in every fiber of her being.
    "Tap into that Marid DNA," Farah told her. "Your unique Pinky energy is going to develop way better spells than anything you'd find online."
    Pinky chewed her lip. "But Oscar doesn't like us to deviate from the official spells." Oscar Martinez was the head of the Enclave in the Mid-Atlantic Colony.
    "Is it against regulations?" I asked.
    She stared at the yantok, deliberating. "Not exactly. It's just not done very often."
    "So what's stopping you?" I asked. Pinky was the teen mage who thumbed her nose at the establishment by taking up with shady mobsters. When did her rebellious streak come to a screeching halt?
    Pinky's gaze drifted to the floor. "Oscar's in charge of the training program."
    I rested my hands on Pinky's shoulders. "I guarantee that you could come up with spells ten times more powerful than anything in the Enclave's Official Book of Magic."
    "Actually, it's called a grimoire." She placed the yantok back on the wall. "I'll think about it."
    She wouldn't. Oscar had his members well trained. If he didn't want them to deviate from the Enclave script, then Pinky wouldn't deviate. I didn't understand it, but I could tell by the stubborn lift of her chin that her baton twirling days were officially over.

6
    T he sky was an ominous gunmetal gray when I met Thompson in front of her office for another Ghul School session. We'd agreed to return to the scene of our previous narrow escape to see if the Ghuls were still in residence. Midday was the best option since they were unlikely to be active until dusk.
    Her brow furrowed when she saw me. "Do you own any other clothes?"
    I glanced down at my black tank top and dark jeans. "What's wrong with this?" I liked the built-in holster of the tank top and the jeans had a slightly stretchy quality that allowed me to run like hell when necessary.
    "Nothing's wrong with it," she said. "It's just that you wear them so often, I think they're going to be able to walk on their own soon."
    The woman who probably wore PTF pajamas to bed was criticizing my fashion choices. Before I could offer my own sartorial assessment, her phone buzzed.
    "Thompson," she said. The longer she listened, the tighter her jaw became. "Got it. Thanks." She shot