“Magser—like a magic laser. I coated both ends of the obsidian with a special mixture and then pumped some power into it. It bounces back and forth like light inside a laser crystal or other gain medium. Omega thought of it. Picks up the obsidian’s protective properties and then increases their coherence.”

She stood up and shed her human form.

“I slept with that?” Mack said. “You better hit her again,” he said, now sounding uncertain.

The bracelet shot her again, the bolt too fast to avoid, slamming her back another fifteen feet, into a Toyota RAV4. It hurt but not as much as the first shot.

She slid one taloned hand through the air in front of her, focusing her will, ripping a small opening in reality. She reached into the pocket universe and pulled forth her SHUKUR. It had been hers since before Hammurabi, taken from another demon that she had tricked and then destroyed.

“Dude, you should probably get serious and quit screwing around. That spear thing looks pretty badass,” Mack said, real worry in his voice.

Declan fired a third bolt from his odd magical weapon, but it wasn’t as powerful as the second, which, in turn, was less than the first. The soul-sucking black spear point on her SHUKUR deflected the blast sideways into a Ford Focus sedan, buckling the driver’s door inward.

“Mack, give me the necklaces. This thing is out of ammo,” Declan said, his own voice tight. Her disappointing minion started to hand the bundle of artifacts to his friend, but she waved her left hand and Mack went flying backward, the elemental magic items flung across the asphalt in a wide arc.

She smiled a tooth-filled smile at the witch. And he hit her with a car. The very same RAV4 lifted off the ground and smashed her into the pavement. Annoying. She shoved it off her and rebounded to her feet, pointing her own weapon and firing her own response, a wave of greasy darkness, focused on the boy.

The air in front of him sparked bright blue, snapping and crackling as his shield stopped the attack but then began to buckle under the onslaught. Impressive, she thought, then jumped lightly upward, letting the Toyota SUV and the damaged Ford sedan slam into each other below her feet. He wasn’t done, though, as she sensed something coming at her from behind. She spun and raised an arm, blocking a flying Vespa scooter, which crumpled around her massive arm.

The only result was that she was shoved a yard or two closer to him before landing lightly on the parking lot. “I begin to see what intrigues them about you,” she said, stepping forward, spinning her spear-like weapon, black droplets of greasy night flinging off the blade to burn holes in glass windshields, metal car bodies, rubber tires, and the very tarmac itself.