Sinners & Sorcerers: Four Urban Fantasy Thrillers by Scott Nicholson, Robert J. Crane, Daniel Arenson, S.M. Reine, J. R. Rain

car, suggesting that our trip was over.
    There were no buildings outside, no secret Union base. Just empty desert between a few isolated hills.
    Shit.
    I broke the tiny circle and pinched the gram of dust that I had infused with strength and luck. It burned against my fingers, but there were no blisters. I’d repurposed the magic for a more positive use, and I could only pray that my shitty spell would work. I still couldn’t help but flinch as I sprinkled it on my tongue.
    I sneezed.
    The SUV stopped with a jerk. Joey jumped out, flung my door open.
    “Get out,” he said, aiming a gun at my head.
    “This isn’t Union procedure.” I was delaying, scooping the rest of the powder into my hand. The properties of the stuff I’d used to make the circle hadn’t changed, and it still burned. I could feel my palm rippling with new boils. I clenched my fist around it.
    I eased away from Stonecrow as casually as I could. Just my hands in a zip tie and my life in tatters, nothing to see here. She struggled when Eduardo grabbed her, but they were as well trained as I was and much better prepared. I just had to hope Stonecrow’s distraction could give me a few seconds.
    Outside it was even brighter and hotter than it had been in the city. I was sweating when they pulled me out. I stumbled and fell onto my knees.
    Joey pulled me to my feet again and dragged me when I didn’t get up fast enough. He was six inches shorter than me and twice as strong. But I could feel the powder on my tongue tingling, and the strength in my muscles was growing quickly with a familiar buzz.
    My shitty spell had worked. Better still, it had worked well . My limbs felt limber and strong. My head was light. Everything fell into hyper-focus—probably the luck part of the spell.
    It felt great. Good enough that I didn’t even panic when I noticed the manmade ditch that had been carved into the side of the road just off the shoulder.
    The kopis kicked me behind the knees, making me fall on the edge. And then I felt a gun in the back of my head.
    It was a by-the-book roadside execution. They would blow our brains out, leave us out of sight of the few people who even come out this way for off-roading, let the coyotes pick our bleached bones.
    Definitely not Union procedure.
    But I didn’t know that for a fact—maybe this was what the Union did when they black bagged people. Maybe everyone I’d ever arrested had ended up in a ditch in the desert.
    Or maybe these fuckers were working for the asshole who had framed me for murder.
    Either way, I wasn’t going down. My heart was pounding and I was smiling.
    “Say a prayer,” Joey said, pushing the barrel hard into the back of my neck.
    This should have been so much scarier than it was.
    Lifting my bound, burning hands into a prayer position, I began to speak. “Hail Mary, full of grace, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, something, something, Heaven…and fuck you, asshole. Amen.”
    I twisted and flung the remaining dust into Joey’s face.
    A gunshot exploded next to my left ear.
    So much for hearing.
    His mouth opened in a roar that I couldn’t hear. He fell, dropping the gun, clawing at his face. His skin was rippling and twisting. Watching the boils rise was almost worse than feeling it happen.
    Almost.
    Eduardo dropped his grip on Stonecrow’s arm and aimed his gun at me. She was gone in an instant, rocketing toward the SUV with its open doors.
    Good. One less thing to worry about.
    I lunged to my feet and drove my shoulder into Eduardo’s gut, knocking the breath out of him. I managed to throw his ass to the ground. Jerked the gun out of his hand. My fingers were too swollen from the dust to grip it properly. I fumbled, dropping it.
    Joey and his Elephant Man features were coming after me again. I kicked sand into his face—into those open, oozing wounds. He screamed.
    Eduardo was getting up again. I swung my tethered fists at him and struck. He grunted, tried to punch me, and missed. He