Maverick: A Supernatural Space Opera Novel (Witching on a Starship Book 1)

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Maverick: A Supernatural Space Opera Novel (Witching on a Starship Book 1) Page 16

by J. A. Cipriano


  “You know, I’ve heard lots of guys tell me how ‘awe-inspiring’ they are, and to be honest, I always just wind up disappointed and unfulfilled once we get behind closed doors.” I shrugged at him as I glanced furtively around for something, anything I could use to stop the alien. “So, points for trying, I guess?”

  “You dare mock me, girl?” Zug demanded, taking a step toward me. “You’re nothing but a powerless waif without your magic.” He pointed at the heavy steel door. “Your friends cannot save you.”

  “Dude, this isn’t fucking Mario. I’m not some princess waiting in a castle to be saved.” I touched my thumb to my chest. “I’m Mallory fucking Quinn. I do all the saving ‘round here. Besides, my friends have their jobs and I have mine.” I turned my thumb down at the floor. “If we all do our part, you go down. While I might have tried to do everything on my own before, I know I need my teammates now.”

  Then before he could launch into a villainous monologue, I sprinted forward. It was harder than I expected, given that I didn’t have magic to make it seem like I did tons of cardio. Newsflash, all my cardio is done by walking from my couch to the fridge, and half the time I just teleport because I’m capital-L lazy. Serious.

  The villainous alien began to laugh as he took another step toward me, but I didn’t care because he was right. I couldn’t fight a dude in a mechanical suit with just my fists of fury. I needed an edge.

  His massive hydraulic fist snaked out to pound me into the pavement as I threw myself into a dive. The whoosh of it passing overhead buffeted against my hair. As I hit the steel hard on my forearms and agony shot up my arms, I commanded my spacesuit to form into a thin sticky rope.

  A spiral of thread shot out from my hand, snapping onto the exo-armor’s leg as I rolled along the floor and popped to my feet. As the alien started to turn toward me, huge fist raised to finish the job, I threw my other hand heavenward, ejecting another Spider-Man-like cable from my wrist. It hit the ceiling high above with a thwip, and as it slapped into the steel far away, I commanded my suit to reel us the fuck in.

  Only as it jerked upward with enough force to practically pull my shoulder from the goddamned socket, I instructed my top to come off. Like magic, the fibers holding me in place unfurled as it morphed into a single sheet of fabric.

  I fell out of my shirt and hit the ground clad in black tight pants and my purple bra, while Zug shot skyward. He smashed into the fifty-foot ceiling a moment later with enough force for the sound of it to ring in my ears. He hung there dazed and confused for a moment before the super-strong threads making up my shirt snapped. Then he plummeted to earth like a fucking comet.

  As I darted into the corner while hoping it would be far away enough away to keep me from dying in the event of an explosion, his exo-suit smashed into the ground with bone-shuddering force.

  The metal armor crumpled like a tin can before exploding into a truly impressive spray of bits and pieces as hydraulic lines, and what not, burst, spraying the floor with pungent chemicals. Part of me hoped they weren’t toxic, but most of me figured if they were, someone back home could heal me. I had a job to do.

  I strode forward as the battered and bleeding Zug struggled to pull himself free of the wreckage. Gashes marred his body, and his left arm was twisted unnaturally behind his back causing the glistening black bone to poke through his shoulder. Only I knew that didn’t matter. He’d probably chop it off himself and then regrow it because he was a lizard-faced fucker.

  “Miss me?” I asked before I kicked him in the chin. Then because it felt so fucking good, I did it a few more times. His body slumped to the floor as the door that had sealed me inside blew inward in a spray of shrapnel. Chloe stood there in wolf form, her chest heaving with effort, while Jeffry stood just behind her with his laser sword held off to one side.

  “You okay?” she asked as the dust settled, and she darted inside, claws raised like she was just looking for someone to slice to ribbons.

  “Yeah,” I said, putting my foot on Zug’s unconscious back and dropping down to flex my arms like I was a WWE superstar. “Ain’t no thing.”

  “There’s no magic in here,” Jeffry noted, and was that admiration in his voice? It almost made me want to punch him. I mean, after everything I’d done with my powers, including resurrecting him, that’s what impressed him? Talk about a tough crowd.

  “Where’s your shirt?” Chloe asked, reverting back to human as she moved toward me. It happened so quickly, I didn’t even get the where and when of it all.

  She knelt down beside Zug and pulled the remains of the exo-suit pinning his unconscious body to the floor off with ridiculous ease.

  “Up there,” I said, pointing toward the ceiling and shrugging. “It got stuck on a nail. It was either leave it behind or gnaw off my arm.”

  “I suppose I’d have left it behind as well.” Jeffry nodded at me. “Bit cold in here, though.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest, my cheeks heating with embarrassment as Chloe picked up the unconscious alien and slung him over her shoulder.

  “If you two are done yapping, maybe we can get this guy to space jail?” Chloe asked, exiting the room without a backward glance. “I’m starving.”

  “Space jail?” I asked, following behind her. As I stepped through the threshold, my power returned, and it was like coming home. The ebb and flows of magical energy danced around me, and the unsung rhythms of power played their familiar tune in my ear. It was weird, I hadn’t realized how quiet it had been without it, and now that it was back, it felt loud and sort of obtrusive.

  “That’s a technical term,” Chloe replied, turning toward me and holding her hand out. “Care to take us back to the Endeavor?”

  “Can’t we just be like ‘Beam me up, Scotty?’” I asked, raising an eyebrow at her as Jeffry put a hand on my shoulder. “And shouldn’t we just kill him? Seems like having him is a dangerous liability to cart around. Won’t the surviving Mavericks try to get him back?”

  “If we killed him without trial, we’d be just as bad as him. So we’ll take him to the Federation where he will be judged according to the Accords. It is the proper thing to do,” Jeffry said as I took hold of Chloe’s hand. “And to answer your question, if we had the kind of tech that let us beam people up, we bloody well wouldn’t need you.” The vampire smiled at me. “But since I’ve grown rather fond of you, maybe we could find work for you in the kitchen?”

  “Is that because the only work a woman can do is in the kitchen?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at him as I called upon my power while visualizing the medical bay back on the Endeavor.

  “Jesus, no. Do you know how many women I’ve known who couldn’t even boil water?” Jeffry shook his head at me. “It’s not a small number. Besides, I was just making a joke. We have a machine that makes our food.” He stuck out his tongue. “You can’t compete with that.”

  “Fair enough. I’m a horrible cook anyway,” I replied as the world around us broke apart, splintering as I connected two points in space and time and then projected all four of us through it.

  30

  “Congratulations, Miss Quinn,” Captain Brand said as he held out a necklace with a pair of bronze sandals hanging from the cheap chain. “You earned this.”

  “Um… thanks,” I said, taking the sandals from him, and as I did, my mom clapped from her seat beside me at Applebee’s. I wasn’t even sure why we were at Applebee’s to celebrate our win, but after we’d brought Zug in and turned him over to the Galactic Conclave of whatever the fuck, Captain Brand had invited us out. I’d tried to refuse because I really wasn’t that good at social situations unless being extraordinarily awkward counted as sociable. But I was trying. That counted for something, right?

  I’d mostly succeeded until Captain Brand had shown up outside my apartment with Marty in tow. Then he’d promptly marched my ass down to the limo while Marty watched from his shoulder, bitching the whole time about how Applebees had gotten rid of the apple chimichanga dess
ert he’d liked.

  So there I was in my “Got Lycan?” Underworld T-shirt, and a red vinyl skirt that really made my ass pop while we sat around drinking Bud Light and eating those blonde brownie things that were seriously made of dandelion kisses and pixie whispers.

  “Now you can get half-priced drinks at Federation bars,” Oliver beamed at me as he looked up from the plate of nachos he’d been inhaling. I wasn’t even sure where the fuck he put all the food he ate. If I had that many chips, I’d have hips the size of Alaska. This is not to say I have body image issues. It was just that the fucker had just eaten seven trays of nachos himself, on top of two party platters. It was bullshit.

  “Maybe you calm down on the food?” Chloe asked as she finished her sixth serving of pie. “You’re making me kinda sick with your damn chewing.” She gestured at the remains of the triple cherry pie crumble thing. “I didn’t even want this anymore because the sounds you make turn my stomach. I’m just eating it so the chefs don’t feel bad.”

  “I agree,” I said, glancing at the Atlantean, and as I did, I saw Jen sitting at the bar, one finger twirling her stupid bleach blonde hair as she chatted up some chick with red pixie hair. My eyes narrowed as a sudden surge of fury ripped through me. How dare she. How fucking—

  “What is it?” Niko asked as she followed my gaze toward the bar. “It’s just some chicks? You want me to go talk to them?” She smirked at me. “I make a great wing-woman, dontcha know.”

  “That’s Jen,” Marty said which was double annoying because why was I the only one with a pet here. Granted, he was a sentient pet, but still. Then Marty’s voice got low as though he could somehow speak to the table without me hearing. “Mallory’s ex.”

  “That’s the bitch?” Chloe said, leaping to her feet with enough force to throw her chair to the floor. “Want me to fuck her up for you? I will. I’m not afraid to slap a bitch.”

  As Chloe’s chair clattered across the cheap tile around the bar, Jen looked over and saw me. Her mouth fell open, and panic flashed through her for a split second. And in that second I looked away suddenly embarrassed beyond all reason.

  Part of me wanted to go and try to make nice. More of me was pissed that I was embarrassed. But you know what? A lot more of me was just done.

  I was done with Jen. Done with all her excuses and her lies. Done with how everything was my fault. And as she excused herself from her conversation with the redhead and sauntered forward with that walk she did that I swear was just to show off her hips, I found myself on my feet. Only before she reached us, Chloe pointed at her.

  “Who the fuck do you think you are?” Chloe snarled, her eyes blazing amber as she glared at my ex-girlfriend.

  “Hey, Mallory,” Jen said, walking past the werewolf like she wasn’t even there. The whole dismissal of it struck Chloe momentarily deaf and dumb, and as her mouth flopped open like she was a dying fish, Jen moved toward me and batted her long lashes at me. “I heard you saved the world.” She smiled, running one hand through her hair.

  “You did, did you?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at the girl. “You cheated on me, Jen. More than once. I know I’m stupid because I thought you’d change, but you didn’t and you won’t.” A sad smile crossed my face. “Part of me felt like I deserved it, like I’d done something to deserve it so I had to lie in this bed.” I looked up at her and shook my head. “But I don’t. I don’t have to put up with it, Jen. We’re done.”

  She reached out, touching my arm with one well-manicured hand. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I know what I did—”

  She was probably going to say more, but before she could, I snatched my arm away from her.

  “No. You don’t get to touch me anymore,” I snapped, glancing at my friends, and while none of them were touching me, I felt their support. I took a deep breath and took a step toward Jen, ignoring all the stares from everyone in the Applebee’s. “You lost that right when you threw me out a goddamned window.” I raised my own hand, calling on my power and allowing it to flicker between my fingers. “So back the fuck up before I teleport you into the sun.”

  “I don’t think—”

  Captain Brand’s watch began to screech like it was warning about an air-raid. He glanced at it for a second and nodded as the whole of Applebee’s turned to look at him, but if it bothered the captain, it didn’t show.

  “We’ll have to cut this short,” he said, rising to his feet and throwing a wad of cash down on the table before glancing at Marty. “Marty, I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but you’re going to have to come with us.”

  “It’s fine. There was a Michael Bay marathon coming on… but yeah, it’s space, so count me in,” Marty said, his voice going high-pitched with excitement. “

  “Wait you’re going into space?” Jen asked, her mouth open in shock. She took a deep breath, turning her eyes on the captain. “Can I come too? I’m an expert—”

  “Sorry, we don’t take crazy bitches,” Captain Brand replied, putting a hand on my shoulder while turning his gaze onto Jen. “I’m sure you’re a very nice horrible person or whatever, but we just got called to save the galaxy again. Mallory is busy.” He leaned close to me. “I need you to get us back to the Endeavor. There’s a galactic plague on the way for Alpha Centauri, and wouldn’t you know it, the small furry creatures who live there are helpless to stop it.”

  “On it,” I said, holding my hands out as my teammates formed a circle of friendship around the table that sort of looked a little ridiculous since we were still in Applebee’s. And as I pictured the bridge of the Endeavor in my mind and began to break down space and time for the trip, I glanced at Jen. “Sorry, have to save the world again, and you heard the captain. No crazy bitches allowed.”

  I’d never been more pleased with the look on someone’s face as I vanished. It was way better than throwing her into the sun. Way, way better.

  Besides, there’d be time for that later.

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  Curious about what to read next?

  Cursed

  My name is Mac Brennan and that's the only thing I can remember about myself. Not why I woke up in a dumpster. Not why my right arm is as black as pitch and covered in glowing red tattoos, and certainly not why a vicious death cult is after me.

  Actually, that last part isn't true. I know why the death cult is after me. It's because I saved that damned girl from them. I didn't know who she was at the time, but I'd have done it anyway. I just don't like it when girls get beat up, call me old fashioned.

  Still, I can tell she's hiding something behind those devilish eyes, and if I want to find out what it is, I'll have to help her.

  My name is Mac Brennan. I have no memory, and I'm a werewolf-hunting, hellfire-flinging version of Faust himself.

  Get it on HERE or Turn the Page for a free preview!

  Cursed

  Chapter 1

  The sound of punishing hydraulics snapped me from sleep. My eyes shot open, but I couldn’t see much of anything through the closed lids of the dumpster. The stink of rotten eggs and festering meat filled my nostrils, turning my stomach as I struggled to find my bearings but succeeded only in burying myself further beneath gobs of slimy debris. I reached out, trying to claw my way through the plastic trash bags piled on top of me as the whole world shuddered up and to the left, covering me in dirty diapers, rotten tuna fish, and moldy cheese.

  My right hand lashed out with a mind of its own, trying to grip on the inside of the steel dumpster as it began to tilt, dousing the back of my neck in warm, sticky fluid that smelled of rancid beer. Bile rose up in my throat as my fingers scrapped against the paint-chipped metal, desperate for purchase that would not come.

  The sound of a garbage truck’s crushing hydraulics filled my ears, reverberatin
g deep down in my gut as a snake of fear twisted inside. I tried to scream, to cry out for them to stop as gravity, the bitch that she is, began pulling me toward my inevitable demise.

  The lids beneath me fell open then, smacking against the metal side with a sound like a gunshot. The sudden glare of sunlight was nearly blinding, but it was the flash of a trash-filled pit that threw me into a panic. I scrambled to grab onto something, anything that could arrest my fall before I tumbled into the gaping maw of the trash truck.

  As my feet cleared the edge of the dumpster and my fingers slid off the metal, a wave of rancid, curdled milk crashed against my face, filling my nostrils with fetid goo and cutting off my air supply. Without thinking, I opened my mouth to suck in a breath before my lungs exploded. Milk spilled down my throat, and while I tried to curse in rage and horror, the only sound that came out was a hoarse, bubbling gag that would never be heard over the noise.

  Even if I could have managed to cry out, there was no way for someone to hear me scream over the roar of the punishing hydraulics destined to compact me into pulp. Not that it mattered. If I survived the fall into the metal jaws below, I was going to be pretty damned dead about a second later when the automated press punched my teeth through my brain.

  If the driver saw me now, it would probably be too late for him to stop his truck from killing me. As the dumpster upended itself, I fell backward, scrabbling against the metal like a pathetic lizard as the lower part of my body cleared the edge. My heart hammered in my chest like a goddamned bass drum as I tumbled ass over elbows. My right hand shot up, reaching for one last desperate handhold. A stream of crimson light, so bright it was blinding even over the sunlight streaming into the alley from above, burst from the tattoos emblazoned on my arm.

 

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