Master of Smoke

all black power and malevolence.
    And if he could sense his enemy ...
    David whirled and ran back toward the shop. He had to get Eva and her father to safety—whether they liked it or not.

    The squirrel raced up the tree trunk in a panic, its furry little legs a blur of effort.
    For all the good it did.
    The laser-thin bolt of magic hit the tiny creature right in one beady eye. It tumbled off the tree and hit the ground, a charred corpse.
    Warlock pivoted, drew a bead on a robin sitting in frozen terror, and blasted it, too. The tiny blackened body hit the leafy forest floor with a papery rustle.
    The Dire Wolf grunted, dissatisfied. He was making progress, but not fast enough to suit him. He scented a rabbit, and turned. The animal broke from cover, moving in desperate bounds.
    He drilled it through the skull in mid-leap. It went down, its fur still soft and gray, no visible injury to explain its death.
    Better. Much better.
    A familiar presence burst into his consciousness, and he froze in blind instinct and an instant’s fear.
    Smoke. Gods and devils!
    Then realization kicked in, and he knew he had only seconds. He cast the location spell with a flick of his clawed fingers. An instant later, he had pinpointed the Demigod’s location.
    A slight, cold smile curved his thin black lips, and he reached out to Skoll team.
    He had the bastard now.

    “We met through one of those online dating sites,” Eva told her father, her mind working frantically. “David’s a movie stuntman specializing in swordplay. Flew in yesterday to meet me. I didn’t want to leave him alone all day, so I brought him in to work. He was just showing me his latest choreography ...”
    “With his mouth?” Her father folded his beefy arms and glowered.
    “And like I said, that really isn’t any of your business.” A bead of sweat rolled down her back, itching furiously. She ground her teeth and ignored it.
    “This guy could be some kind of psycho for all you know. People have ended up murdered by men they met online.”
    “The site makes everybody pass a background check.” Eva hated lying to her father. He knew her too well. They’d always been close, even during her rebellious teenage years when she and her mother had fought like two cats in a very small sack.
    “I just don’t understand why you never mentioned this guy. Not even to your mother. I called her, and she didn’t know a damn thing about him either.” Was that a hint of hurt in his hazel eyes?
    She winced. “Well, at first, I wasn’t sure it was going to work. But now I am. I was planning to introduce you today, but Joel came in and ...”
    “Another thing—isn’t this guy awfully damned possessive for somebody you met online?” Bill leaned one brawny forearm on the shop counter, worry in his eyes. “And he’s a big guy. What if he turns out to be some kind of nutball? You could find yourself in real trouble.”
    “He’s not like that.” She put a hand on her father’s shoulder and gave him her best earnest look. “Dad, trust me. It’s going to be fine.”
    Bill glowered at her for another long moment before he sighed, his expression turning resigned. “You’re a grown woman, Eva, so I can’t tell you how to run your love life.” His gaze sharpened. “But if he gives you any trouble, let me know and I’ll kick his ass.”
    And he would, too. Or he’d try, anyway. Smiling, Eva stood on her toes to kiss his bearded cheek. “I won’t have to. He’s a good guy, Dad.”
    Bill grunted. “Tell him to put on a shirt, would you? He’s scaring the customers.”
    Eva was just about to ease her father out the door when it banged open with a furious jangle. She and Bill took a step back as David barged through, the prop sword in one hand, his expression grim. “My enemy has sensed me. We must go.”
    Dad gave him the kind of wary look reserved for people in tinfoil hats. Eva wanted to smack David upside his oblivious head. All her hard work, undone with one loony-tunes sentence. “Enemy? What the hell are you talking about?” Bill snapped.
    “There is no time for explanations.” He clamped his left hand over her father’s shoulder, pivoted, and started pushing the smaller man out the door, still carrying the prop sword in his right. The bell jangled a discordant note as the door hit the back wall. “We must go now.”
    “Dammit, I’m not going anywhere. This is my shop.” Bill tried to set his feet, but David switched his grip to his upper