Page 1 of Nazab

Chapter One

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“I TOLD THEM WE SHOULDN’T go out scavenging tonight, but does anyone ever listen to me?” Monica Yamil complained quietly. “Of course not,” she replied to herself with an eyeroll. She could sense ten mercenaries prowling around nearby. They were moving closer to her location by the second. Thanks to her freaky senses, she could hear what they were saying.

“This area has already been searched,” one of the militants said. “Why are we being sent to a neighborhood in the middle of the night that’s already been picked clean?”

“I don’t ask questions,” someone responded. “I just follow my orders. I have a better chance of not being sent out to one of the farms or factories if I keep my mouth shut.”

The others muttered in agreement.

Hiding behind a row of empty shelves in a convenience store, Monica took a quick peek at her companion. Rashell was crouched behind the counter, clutching a handgun to her chest and looking panicked. “She’s going to do something stupid,” Monica predicted in a whisper.

Right on cue, the young woman made the mistake of bolting for the open door. She was spotted as soon as she darted outside.

“We’ve got a runner!” a merc shouted and the entire patrol raced after the fleeing survivor.

“What an idiot!” Monica hissed, wondering yet again why she stuck with this bunch of fools. She knew she would struggle if she was on her own, which was why she hadn’t left them yet.

Leaving the store through the back door, she limped slightly as she hurried to keep up with the militants. She caught up to them just as they cornered her companion. Taking shelter in a dark alley, she watched the goon squad surround the female.

“Drop your weapon!” a mercenary barked.

Screaming defiantly, Rashell pulled her trigger rapidly. She shot three of the troopers before a few of them gunned her down.

Monica slapped her hand over her mouth to muffle her horrified noise at the scene she’d just witnessed. She pressed her back against the wall, willing herself not to throw up.

“What a waste,” a mercenary said. “She wasn’t bad looking. We could have taken her to one of our whorehouses.” The men snickered in agreement.

“She doesn’t have any food on her,” one of the other guys said. “But at least we can take her gun.”

“I’ll call this in so they can send a crew to dispose of the bodies,” the leader of the unit said, then spoke into his walky-talky.

Monica had always been able to sense people who were within range of her mental radar. She knew both Rashell and one of the militants were still alive, even if just barely. Waiting until the unit left, she hurried over to her companion.

Rashell had been shot four times, proving what lousy aim her attackers had, since they’d fired at least ten bullets at her. One had hit her in the chest. The others were in her arms and side. She was breathing so shallowly that it was obvious she wasn’t going to last much longer.

Monica had to try to help her even though she knew it was a waste of time. She crossed to the merc who was lying on his side and dragged him closer. He’d been hit in the chest as well and was bleeding out. Kneeling on the road, she placed her hands on the male and female and concentrated hard. Magic welled up and delved into the militant. Coaxing his energy out of his body, she transferred it into her wounded friend. The life went out of the man and Rashell sucked in a breath.

“What the hell?” someone muttered behind Monica. She’d been so focused on her task that she hadn’t sensed the rest of her group arriving. They must have heard the gunshots and had come to investigate.

“What just happened?” a female asked in shock. “Why does that merc look so shriveled up now?”

Mouth going dry, Monica knew she couldn’t explain it to them and sound believable. She didn’t even get a chance to speak.

“She’s a freak!” one of her friends exclaimed, fumbling for her gun. “She stole that guy’s soul and forced it into Rashell’s body!”

“No, I didn’t!” Monica said defensively, then she threw herself sideways when the young woman shot at her.

“Don’t kill her!” Wallace, their unofficial leader said, shoving the woman’s gun downward. “We should capture her and take her to Governor Giamano. I bet we can trade her for a reward.”

The others nodded their agreement and Monica’s trust in people withered and died. Rashell’s wounds were mortal and there were no longer any doctors left in the city to operate on her. Even as she watched, the female expired and faded from Monica’s senses. It had been futile to try to save her life, but she’d stupidly tried anyway. Now she was going to pay the price for it with her freedom.

Gold light suddenly lit up the dark sky, blazing overhead and bathing the entire city in a dazzlingly beautiful display. Everyone tilted their heads back and Monica took the opportunity to flee. She took off down the alley she’d hidden in as shouts came from behind her.

“She can’t outrun us with a gimpy leg!” Wallace shouted as her former friends went in pursuit.

“Watch me, you creeper,” Monica muttered. She could run pretty damn fast when she had to even with her disadvantage.