Read Blightcross: A Novel for Free Online Page A

hidden in the ornamental band on her left arm.
    Anyway, it was just one man who couldn’t afford to pay his own rent. She wouldn’t need an arsenal for that.
    â€œWhy did you ignore me just now?”
    â€œThe man expected it. Most do, Capra.”
    â€œIt seems worse here. Back in the—”
    â€œThis is not the Little Nations.” He gazed around the side of the house. “I think we should go around back.”
    So they left the porch, while the man from the lunch counter stood with his arms crossed and puffed on a metal pipe. They ducked under clothes flapping in the breeze, and nearly tripped over a couch that was inexplicably lying askew on the grass at the rear of the house. Dannac gave a quick nod, then smashed open the back door with his boot.
    It would be quick, especially since Dannac could pinpoint the man’s location through the walls. His strange sight almost made up for his attitude.
    He couldn’t see the colour of a person’s skin, or pick up on their finer features. Still, he knew she was a Valoii. Why had he chosen to stay with her?
    He took point, and went straight for the front of the house, as if he already knew the layout. She followed and fell into her usual role of sharp observer, which usually meant watching for panels in the floor that didn’t look quite right, or authority-types closing in on their rear. But this time, she saw only dirt-smudged floorboards, empty shelves, and rubbish strewn about. There were no authority-types to watch for. This time, they were the authority. An uncomfortable thought.
    They went upstairs, and Dannac’s footsteps boomed throughout the house. Capra stepped lightly out of habit, and reached to her armband to retrieve the switchblade.
    â€œTime to give it up,” Dannac said. His voice echoed in hall.
    He approached a doorway, to which he gestured with a jerk of his head. He stepped into the room.
    â€œDon’t make me—”
    There was a sudden charge in the air, and a chill crawled beneath Capra’s skin. There was an undefined grunt from Dannac, and thunder—
    Dannac flew from the room and slammed into the wall across from Capra. She gripped her little knife and, after she saw Dannac shaking his head, showing he was still alive, crept around the doorway.
    She poked her head around first. But a confused breath caught between her lips once she saw inside. She didn’t expect that the force that had slammed Dannac out of the fight would be an obese, sweaty man, nearly passed out in the corner of a bare room. All around him there were smoked glass bottles, and a host of metal utensils—spoons and other devices she was too anxious to place.
    â€œWhatever you do, do it now!” Dannac’s voice was gravelly and weak.
    She gulped. The man was just lying there, eyes bloodshot and mired by a sickly cloudiness, and she did not want to accept that he was also drooling. He raised a hand, muttered something, and she felt it again—
    A buzz, a thrill, something to which she had been taught by her countrymen to react with deadly force...
    It triggered her senses and training so that she dodged the man’s etheric attack, and leaped across the room faster than the man’s pathetic eyes could track. The room took on a surreal quality—it was the first time in nearly a year that she had needed to use the vihs sensitization instilled in her by the army. This man was an Ehzeri. A powerful one.
    The skin on her forearms prickled, and she watched him for the subliminal cues she instinctively scrutinized every vihs- capable Ehzeri for by sheer habit of her training. She brought the knife into a ready position and widened her stance.
    There was a dust storm that day, and her platoon had donned their dark green head scarves. The suspected Ehzeri compound was not much of a compound at all, just a collection of tents baking in the sun...
    Her mouth turned dry, and she hesitated to strike. “Look...