Marked by Magic (The Baine Chronicles #4)(26)

I hissed, baring my all-too human teeth. “I’m Sunaya Baine, you jackass, and I’m here undercover.” I dropped my teenage-boy voice, and the guard’s eyes widened. “Stop trying to have a pissing contest with me, and let me in.”

The guard hesitated, then turned to address Gorden. “You say these are robbers?”

Gorden turned. “Yeah. They tried to loot my store. Gorden’s Grocery in Maintown.” His eyes narrowed. “You know the place. I’ve seen you in my store before.”

“Umm, yeah.” The enforcer scratched his head. “Your wife makes some pretty good sandwiches.”

“Damn right. Now are you going to let us through, or should we just untie these bastards and let them go cause more trouble?”

“Wait a moment.” The enforcer turned smartly on his heel, then went back to the door to confer with his buddies. He returned with two of them a moment later. “We’ll help you get them inside.”

“Thanks.” I flipped down the rear gate of the cart, then jumped in and grabbed one of the thugs. I only had one pair of cuffs, so I’d had to restrain the other two with good old-fashioned rope, but it did the job well enough.

“I’ll take him,” one of the enforcers said firmly as I dragged the first man off the cart and forced him onto his feet.

“Okay then.” I held up my hands as he grabbed the thug from me and began perp walking him into the building. The other two enforcers manhandled the remaining prisoners, and I was left with little to do but shove my hands into my pockets and follow them inside.

“Not so fast.” The two enforcers who’d been holding the rear doors open closed ranks, blocking the entrance. “We can’t let you through until you properly identify yourself.”

“I already have,” I growled. “I’m Sunaya Baine, registered member of the Enforcers Guild.”

“That’s all well and good, but how do we know you’re not some Resistance spy who’s got good voice-acting skills?” The one on the left, a burly guy with curly, chestnut hair, scowled. “We need visual confirmation that you’re one of us.”

“You guys are *s,” I snarled. “You know it’s me. Why won’t you just let me through?”

“What, are you too afraid to show yourself?” the other guard, a blond, asked with a smirk, and I bristled. “I guess that makes sense – must have been humiliating to have your ass tossed out of here earlier today.”

My cheeks flamed, and before I could think better of it, I dropped the illusion, allowing them to see my real form. “There,” I growled, grabbing the blond by the collar and sticking my nose into his face. “Is that good enough for you?”

A crack rent the air, and I cried out as burning pain ripped through my right shoulder. The blond enforcer’s head jerked as blood bloomed over his chest, then his knees buckled as he dropped like a stone.

A bullet wound, I realized, dazed. Someone had tried to kill me, and they got this guy instead. With a shot to the heart.

“Get inside!” the other enforcer roared, grabbing me by the arm and hauling me through the entrance. He slammed the steel doors behind him, and the sound brought reality rushing back to me.

“Gorden,” I cried, turning back around. I wrenched open the door, heedless of the other enforcer’s warning. Gorden was out of the cart, sprinting for the doors as fast as he could manage, eyes wide with panic. “Come on!” I screamed.

He was five feet away when he went down – a shot to the back of the head. A scream of denial tore through the night, and I realized it came from my throat. I tried to run to the fallen man, to check and see if it was a mistake, if he was still alive, but the other enforcer grabbed the door and slammed it shut, then drew the heavy bolt with shaking fingers. “Stop!” he shouted at me. “He’s already dead.”

I whirled around to face him, murder in my heart. “Yes, and it’s your fault,” I screeched, launching myself at him. The man reached for his sword, but he was only human, and I was too fast and too strong for him. Before he could do more than grip the hilt, I’d slammed him against the ground, my legs clamping around him so he couldn’t easily get away.

“You stupid bastard,” I yelled, pummeling him with my fists. He tried blocking my blows with his arms, then cried out when I started slashing at his unprotected flesh with my claws. “You killed that innocent man!” I plowed my fist into his face and heard the ridiculously satisfying crunch of his nose breaking beneath my knuckles. I was out of control, my rage burning fast and hot now that it finally had an outlet, and damn, it felt good.

So then, why were tears running down my face?

I paused at the sound of sobs, and I realized they were coming from me. The man beneath me was trembling with pain and fear, but so was I, guilt and anger so thick against my chest I could hardly breathe.

I’m out of control, I realized numbly. Succumbing to my volatile shifter emotions instead of using reason. Yes, this man deserved to be punished, but if I continued beating on him, I would kill him. And the Resistance had caused enough death as it was. I didn’t need to coat my hands with a fellow enforcer’s blood.

Sensing weakness, the enforcer bucked his hips, and in the next second, had flipped us over. The breath whooshed out of me as I landed hard on my back with all his weight bearing down on me, and I instinctively bucked as fear spiked in my chest. But between the bullet wound, the constant illusion magic, and the fighting, my strength was starting to wane. I didn’t have much left in me to resist when he grabbed me by the hair and slammed my head into the concrete floor. Spots danced in my vision, but I was still conscious, so he did it again. And then, I was out.