Ethereal: An Illumine Series Novella (The Illumine Series)

Ethereal: An Illumine Series Novella (The Illumine Series) by Alivia Anders Page A

Book: Ethereal: An Illumine Series Novella (The Illumine Series) by Alivia Anders Read Free Book Online
Authors: Alivia Anders
all macho for your little rat-pack back there, and I’ll break both your arm. Or, you can leave.”
    The boy let out a small, cut-off nervous laugh. Glancing over his shoulder, both of his goonies stood there, dumbfounded. Finally one of them shrugged, unsure of what to do. “Not happening, princess,” he said, snapping his attention back to face Rinae. Blade out, he leapt for her, swishing the silver as if it were a metallic wand instead of a knife. Wizards everywhere would have been so disappointed.
    She stepped aside and landed a kick to his ribs, swift and quick. His arms flung up into the air, blade slipping from his grasp as he smacked with a winded jolt into the brick wall. The blade sailed above their heads, landing with a muted thud on a pile of trash far behind both of them.
    Making sure neither of his two companions dared make a move, Rinae straddled the thin, crumpled mess of a boy, grabbing one of his arms and giving it a twist. Higher she pulled it along his back, bending the limb until he cried out for mercy. It was almost too easy.
    “What in the hell are you?” He screamed, writhing beneath her. Agony contorted his face, scrunching it like an abused lemon. “You’re some kind of freak! No normal person moves that fast!”
    A flash of something dark crossed Rinae’s face, vanishing as quickly as it came. Only did the subtle, slight lock of her jaw give hint that his words cut her past the surface. Twisting the arm a little harder, she waited for the familiar pop! of his shoulder socket before answering. “I am none of your goddamned business. But next time, if you choose to see me, and think for a second you might actually win in a fight, I’d re-think things through.” Her lips brushed his sweat-drenched temples. Then, she twisted his arm harder, locking it behind his back in a way that screamed for an ER. Over his scream, she added, “Or, remember what this felt like.”
    ________________
    New York City. Home of the stars, birthplace of endless careers, some fizzling before it could make a bang, others exploding before it could build enough fizz. It may have been known for all the glamour and glitz you could dream of, but like any shiny object, a thin film of grime coated the lower half obscured from view, patiently waiting for the right time to reappear.
    From high priced handbags and Russians draped in hideous fur coats, to abandoned homes and garbage cans blazing with fire to keep the homeless warm, Rinae had seen it all. Living around every block tended to do that to you; you got a healthy dose of seeing stuck up rich kids whine over not owning the newest smartphone, when five blocks over two grown adults bickered over leftovers sitting on a bench for lunch. The city liked to pride itself on being in-the-now or whatever the hell that really meant.
    What it wasn’t known for was the backwater crime, and the strife that came with it. Not since the days of mafias and classy gangsters in suits with cigars. Which, when Rinae thought about it, was a shame. Today’s day and age really could use a few classy villains to shake this city up. After all, the closest they had was her, and probably a couple dozen other kids that caused an inch of mayhem among the city’s streets and alleyways.
    Case and point? Rinae’s almost-attack. Taking any street corner off the main roads were dangerous anymore, group or no group. Kids these days had some insane notion that if they owned a knife, they were the next big thug to rule the streets. Laughing to herself as she crossed a few narrow alleyways, Rinae subtly shook her head. Nine times out of ten, the boys who claimed to be super-punks were as wimpy as newborns.
    Keeping her head down as she entered a less than savory spot of town, Rinae tugged the hood of her worn maroon hoodie up over her head. She made sure to tuck away her flaming, chest-length red hair that always seemed to garner more attention than she’d like. As if being a red-head painted some kind

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