Spellcrash Read Online Free PDF

a complete luau scene, only all the participants had tie-dyed octopuses where their heads should have been. It made for a sort of Jerry Garcia dropping acid with Don Ho and H. P. Love-craft vibe. Haemun can also read the needs of the house’s occupants . . . most of the time. Witness the replacement drink I was even then lifting to my lips.

    “I’ll take the absinthe,” said a deep, growly voice from the direction of the stairhead that led down to the beach.

    Fenris, back from his latest attempts at surfing—I’d shown him the basics the previous evening after Eris released me. He seemed to have fallen in love with the sport despite the obvious handicaps involved with being a giant wolf. I turned toward the stairs, took a swallow of my piña colada . . . and then went to my knees when pain lashed my eyes and clawed at my right hand when my glass exploded.

    “Down!” Melchior yelled somewhere behind me, followed by the sound of more shattering glass.

    “Mine.” Fenris’s voice came out as an angry snarl, and I heard claws scrabbling on marble before a blurry gray streak raced past me.

    Melchior arrived at my side in the next moment. “Boss, are you all right?” I wanted to say yes, but I didn’t know yet. While the pain in my eyes had stopped getting worse, the signals from my hand had a shocky feeling I didn’t like one little bit.

    “What happened?” I demanded.

    Melchior didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he whistled a binary spell string that I recognized as “Better Living Through Chemistry” before jabbing a hollow claw freshly full of morphine into my right wrist. Not a good sign, that.

    “Just hang on, Boss. I don’t think it’s as bad as it looks.”

    “I can’t see shit, Mel. What happened?”

    “Assassin. High-powered rifle, I think. If you hadn’t turned when you did, we’d be picking up pieces of your skull. As it is, the bullet hit your drink, and maybe your hand. It’s hard to tell what’s what with all that blood.”

    Damn it, damn it, damn it. “Should I be scrambling for cover?”

    “I expect Fenris has it under control, but getting off the balcony sure couldn’t hurt.”

    “Guide me.” I closed my eyes to minimize distractions.

    Melchior caught hold of my right wrist and tugged. I followed on hand and knees.

    “Let me give you a boost.” Haemun wrapped a helpful arm around my waist.

    After we slipped into the shadow of the roofed portion of the lanai, I let my next worry surface.
    “How bad are my eyes?”

    They felt like they were getting better but . . .

    “I didn’t see any blood or glass fragments, but why don’t we have a closer look now.” Melchior halted our forward progress, and I felt his tiny fingers tugging at my eyelids.

    I let him open them, and a blurry version of my inner lanai materialized. Mel’s attentions hurt, but I tried to hold still.

    “I think they’re fine. You just got sprayed with alcohol when your piña colada exploded. That’s bound to sting something fierce, but I don’t see you going all Oedipus Rex anytime soon.”

    “You have no idea what a relief that is, Mel.”

    “Actually, having met the bundle of spite and bile that is your mother, I rather think I do. Just a second.” He whistled another string of binary, something extemporaneous this time. A moment later, I felt warm saline washing out my eyes.

    “Much better.” I blinked several times as something like normal vision returned.

    Haemun had flipped over a Hawaiian-print sofa, putting at least a visual block between us and anyone pointing a gun in our direction. So, temporarily out of the line of fire, check. Eyes functional, check. Time for item three on the triage list.

    My right hand was a mess. Reflexes are a wonderful thing, except when they aren’t. Mine had closed the hand into a tight fist when the initial pain hit. Not the best plan in the world when your drink has just been converted into a rapidly expanding cloud of alcohol and