Sorcerybound (World's First Wizard Book 2) Aaron Schneider (top 10 novels TXT) 📖

“It could also be a measure of insurance for the dwarrow,” she said, her voice so soft she might have been talking to herself. “Long-term mental and emotional manipulation through magic can have side effects. Higher ranking members not being affected means that if Stalin dies or becomes unmanageable, his replacements won’t be a bunch of damaged drones.”

I concur, Imrah whispered in Milo’s mind. Zlydzen understood that many of his tools for mental manipulation, potent as they were, couldn’t control entire nations. Not yet, at least.

The final caveat did nothing to help Milo’s stomach settle, but the knowledge that the upper echelons of the Red invaders could be as fractious and disorganized as any other band of power-hungry humans was a small comfort. Who knew, maybe they would get lucky and things would devolve into a massive powerplay as they nabbed the Marxist warlord?

“We’re not getting any closer to accomplishing this suicide mission standing here.” Milo sighed. “We best get moving. We’ve only got a few more hours before Beria said the big show was going to start.”

“I hate this part,” Ambrose grumbled as he took the harness from his shoulder and began shuffling into it.

“It’s just to get us in the city,” Rihyani soothed as she stepped forward to offer a helping hand with a buckle.

“After which we’ll need to secure transport quickly,” Milo said, taking up a portion to belt around his waist. “The last thing I want is to have to start hauling our prisoner around like a sack of wheat.”

“He says it as though there was any doubt who would do the actual hauling,” Ambrose muttered to Rihyani, making certain Milo could hear him.

“He’s looking out for you then,” Rihyani said, throwing a wink over the big man’s shoulder at Milo.

“Oh, mon chéri, you make a man’s heart wander!” Ambrose whispered as he ran his eyes across the hardened contours of what could have been the Rollsy’s prettier younger sister. It was not a Rolls-Royce fully armored and outfitted for battle, but a lighter command/reconnaissance model. With a longer hood to accommodate a large engine and an open extended cab, it seemed designed for greater speed and accessibility.

Just the sort of thing you’d need for a kidnapping.

The wind-riding trip over the city outskirts amidst the dying light had gone without incident, but they hit a snag when they touched down very near a checkpoint in the city’s heart. Quick obfuscation by Rihyani had spared them from being spotted as their images melded with the building they’d landed on. They’d stood frozen for a moment, and the near-disaster had turned into good fortune as the fine specimen of a vehicle rolled up to the checkpoint.

Ambrose slowly drew his rifle to his shoulder, but before he could take aim, Milo settled a staying hand on his shoulder.

“Pretty sure we don’t need a shootout just yet,” Milo murmured, then smiled at Ambrose’s stricken face.

“Won’t be a shootout,” he hissed, looking anxiously past Milo to where the driver seemed to be arguing with the guards at the checkpoint. “Four men and I’ve got five on a clip. I could practically do it with my eyes closed.”

“It would still be too loud,” Rihyani said. “I’m not sure I could cover the sound of that many shots coming so quickly.”

The officer in the back of the cab was leaning forward and gesticulating irritably.

“We better do something,” Ambrose muttered, nodding down at the unfolding scene at the checkpoint. “They’re either about to shoot each other or at least make a call into a higher authority, and either way, we’ll lose our best chance with that beauty.”

The men below did seem to be on the verge of some sort of violent altercation since they were all shouting at the same time. One of the guards was now holding his rifle across his chest rather than slung over his shoulder.

Do you think you can take them all out with one volley of the frost shards? Milo asked Imrah as he raised his cane so the eye sockets could study the targets below.

Child’s play, the disembodied ghul replied.

Milo drew his focus to a lethal point, and with a twist in the essential formula, bifurcated it twice. He felt Imrah’s power seething inside the fetish, waiting to be released.

FREEZE

Four black shards of ice trailing a tail of rippling fog tore through the air with the barest of whines. The two checkpoint guards were struck in the chest, while the driver was pierced from the back. The officer had surged forward to swat at the nearest guard with an open hand, so the final shard missed. It slashed the shoulder of his jacket, leaving an ice-rimed epaulet.

“Child’s play?” Milo remarked drily as he turned the cane to glare at the skull.

He moved, Imrah sulked.

Down below, the officer was shrinking down into his seat as he watched the profusion of bloodied ice spines erupting from his driver and the two guards. Mute with horror, he stared unmoving until they all collapsed in a chorus of crackling icicles.

“That’ll take some getting used to.” Ambrose grunted with a shudder as he moved to the lip of the building and leaped to the ground four stories below. There was a dull thump as his boots impacted, but otherwise, his impossibly absorbed jump was without effect.

“Show-off,” Milo muttered before leaping after him and calling on his coat’s wings to bear him down safely. He felt Rihyani’s will reach out to the wind, which whispered back as it carried her in his wake.

They came down level with Ambrose, who was already moving toward the vehicle, Gewehr at his shoulder.

“How is it any worse than what you do with that old cannon?” Milo asked as he fell in step beside the big man.

“I dunno, just is.” Ambrose shrugged before raising his voice to a commanding growl in Russian. “All right, time to come out of there.”

No movement came from inside the cab except the driver, whose frozen