Cursed: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Thrice Cursed Mage Book 1)

by J. A. Cipriano

  “Oh, I’ve already done that. Open your eyes.”

  Chapter 25

  I was still on the balcony with the cultist’s knife in my hand. Van was still above me screaming. I’d been out less than a second. There was just one trifling difference. I didn’t feel pain anymore. Oh, and my body was wrapped in a fading cocoon of crimson light. Sitting up was one of the easiest things I’d ever done. Whatever the cat in my head had done to help me was better than a shot of morphine followed by a Vicodin chaser. It was a little weird.

  My eyes surveyed the moonlit surroundings as I sheathed the knife before pulling Van’s Deagle from the still warm fingers of his severed arm. As I hefted the weapon, I found the weight surprisingly familiar. A thin smile flashed across my lips as I checked it over. It was sticky with blood, but seemed otherwise undamaged by the fall. Thank God it was made out of metal. If it’d been made of cheap polymer and plastic, the drop might have cracked something important. It was still possible, but I was willing to give myself pretty good odds on it still working. Either way, I’d know in a minute.

  I dropped into a weaver shooting stance, placing my right foot back and turning slightly because I wasn’t exactly worried about Van putting a bullet through my left armpit and into my heart since he was disarmed. I craned my weapon upward, sighting the chrome pistol on his chest and let loose three quick shots. They echoed across the landscape like thunder, and Van’s body jerked backward out of sight in a spray of blood and thicker bits.

  The gun fell to my side, and I stood there, chest heaving in the cold night air. I needed to get back up there, but the wall in front of me was covered in slick plaster. Without the proper equipment, I wouldn’t be climbing it very easily. Besides, while I felt pain free, I could feel my ribs jostling in a way that wasn’t exactly pleasant. I was reasonably sure one hadn’t punctured my heart or my lungs, but for all I knew, whatever the cat had me hopped up on was masking those symptoms too. If I risked trying to climb it, I could wind up puncturing something I’d rather like to keep puncture-free. No, I needed a new plan.

  I raised my right hand toward the broken window and concentrated, picturing Van’s armada of tentacles. Red light began to seep from my tattoos like blood from an old wound. My fingers extended slowly as I tried to copy what Van had done. Sweat broke across my body, chilling me in an instant. My teeth chattered together and pain stabbed at me from my ruined ribs. Sparks leapt across my flesh, and millions of spots danced across my eyes like a swarm of fireflies.

  My skin began to writhe as viscous, red slime pulled itself from my tattoos, reminding me of that scene from Freddy Krueger where the screaming faces of the damned pressed out of his flesh. My legs gave out on me, and I collapsed forward, barely catching myself with my left arm. Pain shot through me and with it, came the roaring agony that had been suppressed by the cat’s power. My vision went dark around the edges as I called up every bit of willpower I had and reached out one last time toward the window above.

  Thick red fluid exploded from my palm like a gunshot, bursting through the open window and smacking into the ceiling within with a wet thwip. Elation filled me as the tentacle snapped taut. Then it jerked me violently upward with enough force to nearly wrench my shoulder from its socket. I cried out as I was pulled up into the room like the goddamned Batman.

  The moment my feet touched the cobblestone floor inside, the tentacle detached from the ceiling, retracting into my tattoos with a glistening, wet glow. My ribs felt like someone had smashed me with a sledgehammer which, of course, had actually happened, but as I stood there panting, the pain started to recede, not as much as before, but enough to let me function without curling into a ball on the floor.

  Van lay on his back in an ever-widening pool of blood. I wasn’t sure if he was dead because the only light in the room was coming from the moon behind me. I took a step toward him, my hand clenching the Desert Eagle so tightly the knuckles on my white hand were white with effort. This was my chance to end this.

  “Mac, help me!” John cried from the darkness. My head snapped toward the sound of his voice. I could barely make out the vague outline of the boy struggling with a form on the wall. He was trying to rescue Sera, but from the looks of it, had thus far been unsuccessful.

  “Coming,” I called back, and as I changed my trajectory to meet him, I glanced one last time at Van’s unmoving body. A bad feeling settled over me as I stared at him so I did the sensible thing and chased it away by putting three more shots into the man’s chest. The sound boomed inside the room, reducing my hearing to a sharp whining sound. I couldn’t see how well they connected, but if his jerking body was any indication, I hadn’t missed. Hopefully, it would be enough to keep him down.

  With that happy thought, I shoved the weapon into the front of my pants and jogged toward John and his mother. Each step jerked at my nerves with rusty fishhooks, but that didn’t bother me. I had won, had defeated Van, had stormed a cult, and had fought off werewolves. I had done all this to save my princess, and now, all I had to do was walk over to her with broken ribs stabbing into my body.

  I was Mac Brennan, and I could manage that.

  Despite John’s best effort, he’d done little more than pull the tubes from her body, probably because she was bound with chains and manacles. She was still breathing despite the blood loss, but one thing was certain. She needed a doctor, fast. We both did. That’s when the sound of sirens filled my ears. My head turned toward the open window, and I saw the strobe of the blue and red gumballs in the distance. They’d be here in minutes. I did not want to be here when that happened.

  “Resero,” I said, touching the manacles on her left wrist with my right index finger. A small spark of power that made stars flash across my eyes leapt from my fingertip. The manacle unlocked, and I could have sworn I heard feline laughter in the distance. So that little trick was her doing. Well played, head-cat. Well played.

  I made short work of the rest of the bindings, and Sera slumped forward into my arms. John wrapped his own arms around her. We stood like that for several moments while I tried to ignore the sound of the sirens coming closer and closer.

  “We need to go,” I said not sure how to make good on my words.

  “Maybe I can help with that,” Jack said, his winged form casting an ominous shadow across the floor in front of the broken window. He began striding toward us, and while I couldn’t see the expression on his face as his bat wings folded up behind him like a cape, I got the distinct impression he was smiling at me.

  “How are you here?” I wheezed and realized I could taste blood in my mouth. That wasn’t good. That wasn’t good at all. It spoke of internal injuries.

  “When you did whatever it was you did to Van, the flames died away, and the alarms went berserk.” The vampire jogged toward me, and much to my surprise, John seemed happy to see the Indian. It made me wonder what kind of mother Sera actually was if the boy was relieved to see a vampire. Then again, I was also relieved to see him.

  “So what’s the plan?” I asked as the vampire took Sera into his arms, hefting her easily over one shoulder.

  “First you drink this,” Jack said before tearing open the flesh on his wrist with his teeth to reveal thick viscous fluid that reminded me of raspberry jam. He held it out to me, but before I could do anything, John reached out and tugged on his arm.

  “Mac lost his finger,” John said before pointing at my pocket. “He still has it in there.”

  “Well, go on and get it out and hold the pieces together before you drink then.” Jack grinned widely at me, and I got the distinct impression he was enjoying the squeamishness on my face. “Vampire blood has all sorts of healing properties, assuming you don’t die with it in your system. If you do, well, I’ll be seeing you in three days with a stake. Comprende?”

  “Yeah, don’t die with vampire blood in my system or you will wax me like a gym floor,” I said, and strangely enough, I was okay with him killing me if I came back as an undead bloodsucker.
Something told me that Jack might be the exception rather than the rule when it came to his kind.

  “Pretty much. It’s nice to see we’re on the same page,” Jack replied, nodding at me as I fished the plastic baggie out of my pocket and pulling out my shriveled pinkie.

  “Well, here goes nothing.” I pushed my severed finger against the wounded stub on my left hand, and even though every part of me revolted at the thought, I put my lips to his wrist and sucked.

  “That’s a boy, drink up,” Jack slurred as his eyes rolled back in his head.

  My throat convulsed as I swallowed, and for a second, I thought Jack’s blood was going to come rocketing up out of me, but then the strangest thing happened. Heat began to build up in the pit of my stomach. Warmth spread out inside me, filling me up from within and taking all my pain along with it. My bones snapped back into place, knitting themselves together in an instant, and somehow, my finger reattached itself without so much as a nasty scar.

  “Holy shit,” I exclaimed as the vampire jerked his wrist away from my greedy lips.

  “No, vampire blood. Now let’s get out of here before we have to explain to the cops why we’re here.” He squatted down to gather up John like the boy was a toddler before making his way toward the window. His wings unfurled behind him like he was a giant bat, and before I could protest, he’d leapt from the edge.

  Even though I knew he was probably fine, I cried out in surprise, racing over to make sure he landed okay. I needn’t have bothered. Jack the vampire landed lightly on the grass below. I saw a strange fog roll over the top of him, and then he, along with Sera and John were gone.

  I’ll be honest, I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, but something told me Jack would make sure Sera and John were okay. Whatever their relationship with the vampire was, I got the feeling he was on their side. At least, I sure hoped so. I’d hate to have to visit a twenty-four-hour home improvement store and be forced to explain why I was buying wooden stakes in the dead of night.

  Since I could see flashing lights about a block away, I was especially anxious to get out of here. Fortunately, I didn’t have many promises left to keep, nor did I have miles to go before I slept. I only had one thing left to do. Stop being Batman.

  I crossed the cobblestone floor and picked up Van’s sledgehammer. I hefted it in my hands, getting use to the weight as I walked over to Van. He wasn’t moving, but for all I knew, getting his demonic arm lopped off and taking six fifty-caliber rounds to the chest would result in nothing more than a bad hangover. I wasn’t interested in finding out.

  I raised the hammer high into the air, and when I brought it down, I didn’t miss.

  Chapter 26

  Much to my surprise, the space in front of me ripped apart like torn fabric, spilling orange light across the room. Heat unlike I’d ever felt before, hit me full in the face, sucking the moisture from my body as I staggered backward, clutching the hammer for dear life.

  Death sat within the tear’s swirling depths astride his pale horse. The creature whinnied, and he kicked it hard in the side with one black-soled heel. The horse put its head down and trotted forward until its feet clomped onto the cobblestones in front of me.

  “I always told you this day would come, Van.” Death’s words scurried across my flesh as panic reared its head up and swallowed me whole. “You always tried to tell me you were invincible, and what did I do? I laughed.” Ghastly laughter spilled from between his too white teeth. “I find I am still laughing now.”

  Death reached out with one bony hand and grabbed at the air just in front of Van’s body. He pulled and some wiggling, squirming thing tore free of Van. It writhed, struggling in Death’s grip, but the reaper didn’t seem to mind. He turned to regard me and held up Van’s soul like he was the predator showing off a new skull for his collection.

  “Thanks,” he said in that wind blowing through a graveyard voice of his. “I’ve been after this one for a while.” I got the impression he was grinning at me even though his face was little more than a hollow skull. “But don’t think this means you’ll get any special treatment from me.”

  His pale horse turned, and he began trotting toward the portal. I was glad. Even though he hadn’t come to reap me personally, just being near him was enough to make me hope I never died just so I wouldn’t ever have to meet him again. It was a foolish thought since death, especially for a guy with a demonic arm, was an inevitability, but still. Still.

  As his horse clopped back into the depths from whence it’d come, the reaper turned back to regard me carefully. “Thank you again,” he said, and shifted on his saddle, allowing a slip of paper to fall from his pocket and drift lazily to the ground at my feet. His skeletal grin returned, and he chuckled once more before turning away from me and disappearing into the rent in space and time.

  It vanished without a trace, leaving me standing there dumbfounded. I half-wondered if I’d just hallucinated the whole episode, but as I stood there gaping like an idiot, I realized the slip of paper that had fallen from the pocket of his dark robe was still there.

  Woodenly, I picked up the note. An address was written on it, and something about it filled me with a sense of dread I couldn’t explain. I knew that place. It was important to me. And if it was important to me, did it hold the key to saving the woman and child from my shards of memory? I had to know.

  I muttered a silent word of thanks to Death and turned back toward the window as police cars came to a stop outside. I was out of time. So what did I do? I readied myself to jump from the window. It wasn’t my best play, especially since I had no idea if I’d survive such a fall or if I could use magic to slow my descent, but I was out of options. You know, until I came to the window’s edge and saw Jack standing on the ground below me.

  “I’ll catch you, Princess,” he called and because I knew I wouldn’t do it if I thought about it at all, I waited exactly no seconds before throwing myself from the window.

  He caught me. It hurt more than I expected, and even though Jack had moved with the force of my fall, I was really sure I’d have monumental bruises in the morning. It made me wonder how Lois Lane managed to survive being caught by Superman, but then again, the Man of Steel had superhuman reflexes. He could probably compensate.

  Jack dropped me roughly onto the ground, and as the mist closed up over the top of me, I saw Duane grinning at me from a few feet away. He had one hand driven deep into the dark earth while his other was outstretched toward the mist like he was controlling it.

  “Neat trick, eh?” he said, and I smiled by way of reply.

  Sera sat a few feet away, hugging John to her chest. It made me wonder how long I’d been alone up there. It hadn’t felt very long, but maybe it was longer than I thought since she was awake and hugging her son fiercely. She looked like she still needed to visit an emergency room, but being that Jack had healed my broken bones in the space of a second, I was willing to bet she wouldn’t be seeing a doctor.

  “So how do we get out of here?” I asked, glancing down at the slip of paper clutched in my fist.

  “We walk,” Duane said, pulling his hand from the earth and standing up. He looked wearier than he had a second before, but as he pushed past me, I realized the shroud of mist had descended across the whole of the neighborhood, making it so I couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of me. He must not have had a similar problem because only a few minutes later we emerged on the outside of the gate and made our way past the several officers surrounding our “borrowed” car.

  “So what’s the plan?” I asked as we kept walking toward what looked like a strip mall in the distance.

  “We get the hell out of here,” Duane replied, glancing at me over his shoulder as he moved forward. “You got somewhere you need to be?”

  “Yes, actually,” I said, holding up the slip of paper, still not sure if it was real. “I think this might help me find out who I really am.”

  Duane nodded, but it was Jack who grunted. As I turned towar
d him because he was taking up the rear, he reached past Sera and snatched it from my fingers. I’d barely realized he had taken the note in the time it took him to read it and offer it back to me like it was a live snake.

  “That is bad mojo,” he said, shaking his head. “It smells of death.” He tapped his chest. “And as an upstanding member of the undead community, I know a thing or two about death.” He took a deep breath, and I immediately wondered if he needed to breathe, being a vampire and all. “And even though I know you won’t listen to me, I’m going to tell you, do not go there.”

  “It’s my only chance,” I whispered and held out my right arm. “I don’t know why I got this, but the only thing I remember was someone kicking the shit out of me while a woman and her child got abducted. If this note leads me to a clue, I have to take that chance.”

  Jack looked like he was going to say something when Sera reached out and took the note from his hand. They exchanged a glance that must have had some sort of psychic communication in it because he looked away.

  “Be careful,” she said, pushing it into my hand.

  “I will,” I said, smiling at her. She smiled back. It wasn’t the nicest smile I’d ever seen. It was tired and ragged around the edges, but it was definitely the most relieved smile I’d ever seen. The gratefulness shining through made me happy from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. No matter what happened next, I had saved her and her son from a monster. How bad could I possibly be?

  “Good,” she replied, and with that she kissed me on the cheek. I’ll be honest, it threatened the structural integrity of my legs and made it a little hard for me to breathe.

  “He doesn’t need to be careful,” John said, wrapping his arms around me as the surrounding mist lifted, revealing the sunrise high above. The sun’s rays spilled across the sky like an over easy egg in a glittering pan of orange and purple. “He’s a hero, and the hero always wins.” He pulled me down into a hug, and I let him do it. Then he leaned in close to my ear. “Even if the hero thinks he’s a bad guy.”