War-N-Wit, Inc. - The Coven (War-N-Wit, Inc. - Book 3) by Gail Roughton Page B

the doors on the right side of the building, Stacy and the Jackster to the third window down from the doors on the left.
    Spike bent forward slightly, turned his hands and laced his fingers together to make a ladder for my foot. I stepped up, grabbed the top of his head and swung myself up onto his shoulders. None too gracefully, I might add. Stacy’d probably done the same thing on the other side of the building with the speed of a gazelle when she’d bounded up on Jack’s shoulders. There was method in our madness. I was shorter than Stacy by several inches, Jack was shorter than Spike by more than several inches. This pairing gave us about twelve feet of height on both sides of the building, more than enough to reach the high windows with their broken panes of glass. Always provided I could manage to pull off the next move, of course, which was to actually stand up on Spike’s shoulders.
    “ Owwww!! ” Spike breathed. Oops. I was pulling his hair, trying to hold on and maintain my balance while he moved closer to the wall, so I could brace myself against it as I stood up.
    “ Sorry! ” I hissed back. I shifted, took a deep breath, and made my move. Okay, one foot up on one shoulder. Spike’s hand moved up and grabbed my ankle to steady me. Then the other foot was up, and Spike was bracing me with both hands while I braced myself against the wall. I straightened. We were right about the height. An empty pane in easy reach just begged to be useful. So I used it. I pulled one of the Jackster’s glass bottles out of the tote around my neck and lobbed it in. It hit the concrete floor with a satisfying crrracccccckkkkkk as the glass shattered. Two seconds later, Stacy’s glass bottle shattered behind it.
    Yep, the Jackster knew his stuff. And he was right. These weren’t ordinary smoke bombs. Wafts of smoke floated out of the broken panes of the high glasses. But he’d told us to toss in two more each, to be sure visibility inside was pretty much zero and one thing about me—I was really good at following instructions. When I wanted to, of course. So was Stacy. Crack! Crack! Crack!
    “ What the fuck?! ”
    “ Sonofabitch!! ”
    Time for Phase Two. I grabbed one of Jackster’s little metal canisters from my magic tote bag of chemical engineering marvels and lobbed it through the window. It launched World War III inside the warehouse. Ratatatatatatatatatatattatatatatatatatatatataatatat. Stacy’s little canister joined the party seconds after mine. Machine gun fire echoed loud in the metal walls and bounced off the concrete floor. Not really, of course, these were the Jackster’s special noise makers. But if I hadn’t known that, I’d sure be diving for cover. And from the sounds coming from inside, that’s exactly what the Dark Rulers were doing, too. Bodies thudded into walls, onto floors. Ah! That had to be a whole line of cycles crashing down onto concrete. Sweet! I waited for a lull in the cacophony that indicated the first canisters were running low and lobbed another. From the other side of the building, Stacy did the same.
    “ Get down! ”
    “ Get down where?! It’s coming from everywhere! ”
    “ Where the fuck are the bastards? ”
    Ah! I heard the sounds of Phase Three approaching. Time to really get this party started.
    “Ari! Ch unk the last canisters! We need to get to the doors!”
    “Right!”
    I lobbed the last two machine gun nests in my arsenal. I slid my hand down the wall till I could reach Spike’s hands where they braced my legs. I sat down on his shoulders and he swung me to the ground.
    We raced to the front doors just as the four wheel drive trucks Jackster’d commandeered pulled in front of the warehouse. As one, the three of them braked to form a line, shifted into low gear, and revved the powerful engines. Bikers swarmed onto the lot and circled the perimeter, riding fast. Truck engines revved one last time and lunged forward. The rusted metal doors flattened like pancakes.