SPELL BLIND Teaser #6!!

Spell Blind, by David B. Coe (jacket art by Alan Pollock)Spell Blind, Book I in the Case Files of Justis Fearsson, my new contemporary urban fantasy series from Baen, will be released tomorrow in hardcover! I’m very excited, and I hope you are, too. Here, for your enjoyment and enticement, is the last in my series of teasers from the book. I hope you’ve enjoyed reading them as much as I’ve enjoyed sharing them with you.

I made my way to the Z-ster, Antoine’s laughter still ringing in my
ears. I had been preparing myself all day, planning what I’d do if I felt the Blind Angel Killer’s power again. But like an idiot, I allowed the kid to throw me off balance.

And so, when the red sorcerer suddenly had me in his sights again, I was utterly unprepared. I tried to ward myself, knowing as I did that anything I came up with he could defeat, knowing as well what he was trying to do with these teasing encounters. But I made the effort anyway.

The feeling was much more vivid this time. I knew he was close. Too close. I turned a quick circle, but I also knew that I wouldn’t be able to find him. The hairs on my neck and arms stood on end and my skin grew cold, as if I was in shadow and the rest of the city was in brilliant sunlight. If he had wanted to kill me in that moment, he could have, though I would have put up a fight.

But he was toying with me. For a split second, I thought I could hear laughter. Not ’Toine’s, though I heard that, too. This was deeper, more menacing, more elusive. I turned again, trying to pinpoint where it was coming from. But it was everywhere. Around me, above me, below me. It was in my freaking head.

You’re mine now, I thought I heard someone say.

And then it was gone. The laughter ceased, the sun shone on my face and arms, a warm wind touched my skin.

Three times. Once outside of Robby Sommer’s place, once outside of Robo’s in Tempe, and now here, in front of Antoine Mirdoux’s house. Was there a connection there, something linking the three of them to one another and to this sorcerer with the blood-red magic? Or was it mere chance, the random choices of this bastard who was hunting me?

I should have been concentrating on those questions, trying to figure out what Robby, Robo’s, and Antoine had in common with the Blind Angel victims.

But all I could think was that he’d done this to me three times now. He’d touched my mind with his magic; he’d tested my defenses and seen how I would respond to an attack, how I would ward myself. Three times.

There’s power in numbers. He knew me now. I was his. And the next time, if he chose to attack, there would be precious little I could do about it.

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