Hellbound_An Urban Fantasy Novel

by J. A. Cipriano

  “You know, I’ve walked into a lot of fortune tellers’ shops in my lifetime, and you’re the first person who told me that,” I replied, looking her over. She was seated in a gaudy gold and purple throne a kingly Kobe Bryant might sit in. A startlingly familiar looking calico cat nestled sleepily in her lap as she ran her fingers through its hair. I knew it wasn’t the one living in my head because I didn’t feel any power coming off of it, but damn if it didn’t look just like her.

  “Is this the part where you’re wondering whether or not I know you came here to kill me?” she asked, raising a slender eyebrow at me. She had one of those heart-shaped faces framed by a splash of raven black hair. Her eyes were so heavily lined with purple makeup, she looked like a raccoon in the flickering candlelight of Psychics & More. “Because if it is, I’m going to tell you, it’s not going to be as easy as you think.” Her thin red lips quirked into a knowing smile that concerned me even though I’d come here to purposely fall into her trap.

  “Yes. You’re not scared? Why?” I asked, walking over to her, one hand tight on the grip of my Glock 21. While the bullets hadn’t been especially good against Asmodai once he’d gone Super Saiyan, it had worked on him just fine beforehand. I was betting it was more than enough to make quick work of this creepy gypsy. Her eyes shifted toward where I had the gun hidden beneath my shirt, but that was impossible, right? How could she possibly know it was there when Persephone’s magic had hidden it from practically everyone?

  She was supposed to be just some two-bit charlatan hidden in a half-dead strip mall behind a bankrupt casino in the back alleys of Hell and nothing more. Sam had assured me of that fact. Then again, Sam.

  “Because.” The purple-eyed gypsy’s voice was filled with amusement as she sat back in her purple throne. She flicked one hand and black candles flickered to life all around us, causing shadows to jump and dance across the purple walls. “I will answer one question for you, and afterward, you will not kill me.”

  “What makes you think I give a flying fuck about answers?” I asked, pulling the gun free of the holster hidden beneath my shirt and stepped toward her. She didn’t even flinch as I sat down in the chair across the table from her and set the gun down between us so it pointed at her. If that bothered her, she didn’t show it. “I’m a professional, I get paid in money.” I rubbed my thumb against my fingers for emphasis. “Now you die.”

  She quirked a smile at me. “You say that now, but some day you’ll remember this conversation and wonder why you were so stupid.”

  “Most people don’t insult the guy with the gun,” I replied, but before I could say more, the candles went out, leaving us in darkness that fell upon me like a heavy blanket, drowning out all sense of sound and sight. I couldn’t see anything, couldn’t hear anything but my own heart as it thumped wildly in my chest.

  “Watch and learn, Mac Brennan,” she said, and her voice raged like a jungle storm. Crimson flame lit up the table between us, causing a series of scarlet symbols exactly like the ones usually emblazoned on my arm to dance in front of me. That was unexpected and really fucking concerning. Screw this plan.

  I’m not sure how, but I managed to push myself to my feet and take a step backward. My heel caught something, tripping me. As my hands shot out for balance, I tumbled ass over teakettle. Only, instead of hitting the floor, I felt straight through it into the darkness filling the room. I tried to reach out, to grab onto something, anything to stop myself, but as my hands passed through the smoky blackness of the void, the gypsy’s laughter filled my ears like a thunderclap.

  I turned my head toward the sound of her booming laughter, and as I did, I slammed into something hard enough to kick the consciousness from my body like it was a football at the twenty-yard line.

  17

  I awoke to find something slimy crawling across my face. I didn’t shriek because that would have been pretty damned wimpy, and if I was anything, it wasn’t wimpy. Instead, I brushed at my face while scurrying backward in the mud. Yeah, that’s right, I said mud.

  The last thing I remembered was falling into inky blackness as the fortune teller laughed in my face. Now, I was sitting in a giant mud puddle while iridescent insects the size of basketballs flitted through the surrounding air. Lush jungle filled my vision, complete with blazing sun and crazy fucking humidity. I wasn’t sure how I’d let Sam talk me into threatening the gypsy so she’d drop me off in no-man's-land, but one thing was sure. I was fucking pissed. Also stupid. Really fucking stupid.

  As I wiped my hand off on my slacks and got to my feet, I checked to see if I still had my Glock 19. I didn’t because of course I’d pulled it out and set it on the table like a dumbass, and it didn’t seem to be stuck in the reddish mud surrounding me for about fifteen feet in every direction. Evidently, it hadn’t made the trip along with me. Awesome.

  My leather shoes were covered in grime that stained my socks as well as the leg of my pants up to mid-calf. It goes without saying the entire back of my shirt was covered in mud, but that didn’t bother me much since I could take it off. Besides, the mud was starting to slough off of it. Go mystical clothing!

  As I stood there, mud dripping off my back and hitting the ground beside me with soft plops, I tried to get a bearing on my surroundings. It was hot, and I was in a jungle, which meant predators, and since I was in Hell that was a little bit fucking terrifying. Why had I let Sam talk me into this again?

  Oh, that’s right. We needed to find some mystical doohickey so we could escape Hell. Sigh.

  I wiped my brow with the back of my left hand before reaching under my jacket for my spare gun. Yeah, that’s right, I had brought both. Haven’t you heard the saying, one is none and two is one? Well, I present to you exhibit A.

  Relief flooded through me as I pulled the remaining Glock 21 free of its hidden holster. A smile filled my face as I gazed down at the black pistol. It was as clean as the day was long. I wasn’t sure where to go, but just holding my gun made me feel a lot better. I mean, it probably wouldn’t help much depending on what I wound up facing, but you do what you can with what you’ve got.

  I glanced overhead at the sunlight streaming through the overhead canopy and wiped my brow again. The heat and humidity were going to be killer. If I didn’t find shelter soon, I was going to be in trouble. I mean, I was already in trouble since I couldn’t drink anything, but I was going to be in bigger trouble.

  Part of me was angry at myself. Jenna had tried to get me to carry more magical protection, but there hadn’t been time to find any. Besides, Sam had assured me everything would be easy peasy for a guy like me. I knew he was a lying sack of shit, since he was a demon, but at the same time, I really hoped he was right. I mean, he did have a vested interest in me succeeding since it’d get him out of Hell.

  I shut my eyes and sucked in a breath. First thing first, I needed to find myself a way out of this godforsaken jungle and get to the temple. Then I was going to steal its treasure. Great fucking plan.

  As I made my way forward, pushing through dense underbrush that snatched at my clothing like sticky fingers, I really hoped I wasn’t going to die out here. No, I couldn’t think like that. I just had to do this and get back. Mac Brennan was not going to die in a fucking jungle.

  Unfortunately, it was way too hot, and the jungle was way too thick for me to get very far before my chest was heaving and sweat was plastering my clothing to my body. I needed some water, but since that wasn’t an option, I pushed on anyway. Yes, there was lots of cursing.

  Yeah, I know I could have probably waited and traveled at night, but I still had no idea what was out here, and most predators tended to hunt at night. Besides, while I could see in the dark, I was willing to bet whatever lived out here was a lot better at it.

  “I knew I should have asked more questions,” I grumbled, holding the gun at my side as I stepped out of the massive mud puddle and onto drier land. Part of me had wanted to question Sam further, but I knew it wouldn’t have done much go
od. He seemed to be playing things close to the vest, which was fine. I probably would too, given where we were.

  My shoes squelched as I moved, and I wondered when the next time I’d get a shower would be. I wasn’t a stranger to getting dirty on jobs, but I could hardly imagine anything worse than waking up in a mud puddle in a steaming jungle. Actually, that wasn’t true. I’d woken up in a dumpster before a couple of times now and that was always pretty fucking horrible. If I had a choice between the two, I was going to go with mud.

  Thankfully, after about twenty more minutes of trekking through the brush, I caught sight of something glinting in the distance. I couldn’t be sure how far it was, given the thickness of the jungle and my lack of a machete, but I knew that glint. It was glass. Where there was glass, there had to be civilization. Sure, said civilization might belong to a bunch of cannibals, but it might also mean the Temple of Doom. Besides, I was the one with a gun.

  I took a deep breath and hustled toward the glint, careful to keep my Glock at the ready. Part of me was surprised I hadn’t seen any snakes, lizards, or other fauna besides the occasional bug, but I’d heard the sound of birds. As I moved closer, the sounds of insects and birds died away completely, leaving me trapped in abject silence.

  “Weird,” I muttered in an effort to shake the bad feeling settling over me. It was never good when animals stopped making noise. It usually meant something really bad was around.

  That said, I was close to the glass. I stepped past a tree and found myself staring at what had been glinting at me through the tree-line. About a hundred yards up, the clearing had been scorched, and not in the blackened, burned out way of a forest fire. No, it looked like something had fallen to earth and hit the ground with enough force and heat to turn the jungle floor to glass.

  An obsidian spire jutted from the football-field-sized crater in the center. Actually, maybe spire wasn’t the right word. From here, it almost looked like a pyramid that had been chipped from an immense block of the stuff, but that was impossible because it was huge, like skyscraper huge.

  Unlike the surrounding glass that shone like darkness incarnate in the noontime sun, the structure seemed to absorb the light in the way I’d have imagined a black hole might. Against my better judgment, I moved closer, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand straight up.

  I probably should have turned my happy ass around and walked the other way, but even though each step made my mouth dryer and my stomach clench in fear, something inexplicable drew me forward. As scared as I was, and believe me, even I was terrified, I knew, just knew, I had to go closer and take a look. I couldn’t say why I was drawn toward the structure like a moth to a flame because it was totally insane, but there it was.

  As I stepped onto the glassy clearing, it crunched beneath my feet. That sent a spike of fear into my heart. It was too brittle for anything to have trod on this glass before. At least nothing that weighed two hundred pounds. Near as I could tell, there wasn’t even a drop of bird shit or a speck of dust marring the surface. No, the ground was clean enough to eat off of. It was almost like even the surroundings were scared to intrude upon the glass.

  It almost made me think the place might be new, but it didn’t seem that way. It seemed ancient, beyond ancient even, like it’d been here before the first man and woman were a twinkle in God’s eye. Only, how could that be possible? How could there not be even one speck of dust here?

  I shielded my eyes from the Hellish sun and stared at the pyramid. It was still a half a mile away, and the sunlight reflecting off of the glass was enough to let me know my poor Irish ass was going to get a terrible sunburn. Still, it wasn’t like I had any better options…

  Oh, who am I kidding? Pretty much fucking anywhere would be better than entering that spire and trying to rob it. Everything in me screamed at me to run away. For one, it was creepy, and for two, I hadn’t stayed alive this long by walking into spooky stuff unprepared. That was how the monsters got you.

  All I had was a Glock with one magazine. Somehow, it didn’t seem like enough, but then again, this was the first place I’d seen that didn’t look like jungle. After wandering around for the last couple hours, I wasn’t sure I had better options. Especially, if I wanted to get out of here.

  “Enter mystical jungle and find creepy temple,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Check.”

  18

  After an hour of trying to not slip on the slick, brittle glass and get my ass cut to ribbons, I was finally only a few feet away from the stairs cut into the side of the onyx temple. They spiraled up the side of the structure like a winding snake. While I hadn’t known they were there when I’d begun my approach as I’d gotten closer to the structure, they’d sort of sprang to life in front of me. I wasn’t sure if it was magic or just a trick of distance and light, but either way, with every step I took, more of the spire’s details become apparent.

  The sides of the glimmering temple were carved with the same symbols normally emblazoned upon my arm. It made me cold in a way I couldn’t explain. I wasn’t sure why it was decorated like the cat demon, but I really hoped I wasn’t about to break into my own demon’s temple and try to rob it. Something told me that might put a wrench in our working relationship.

  Still, I couldn’t think about that right now. If I wanted to get out of here, I had to press on.

  The stairs in front of me wound upward before dead-ending at a darkened doorway. I couldn’t tell if the doorway was open, but I really hoped it was. If it’d gotten caved in, I wasn’t sure how to get through it sans dynamite or magic and neither of those seemed to be options at the moment. It wasn’t distinct enough through the haze for me to make out more than darkness, but I was really hoping no Balrog showed up to bar my way. Gandalf the Grey, I was not.

  I’d tried to walk around the temple to look for another avenue inside, but every time I’d veered away from the stairs, my guts would roil, and I’d nearly lose my lunch onto the crunchy glass. That was the last thing I wanted. Well, maybe not the last thing, but if I threw up, I’d be that much closer to dehydration and being that I’d stopped sweating a few minutes ago, well, let’s just say I didn’t have a lot of options left. I was going inside, even if doing so was just going to slow my descent into death.

  I paused to wipe my grimy brow with my hand. My skin felt like dirty sandpaper covered in a salty crust. Yep, I was so going to die, but man, it’d be nice to get through this, if only so I could kill the fuck out of Sam before I bit the big one. Why I had let him talk me into this was beyond me.

  Still, standing out here in the blazing heat wasn’t helping even slightly, and the doorway promised shade. Shade would be good, even if I had to climb a few flights of stairs to reach it. I mean, I didn’t want to climb any stairs, but stairs always wind up being sort of inevitable. Almost anything worth killing tended to be old, and old things tended to distrust modern technology, especially when it came to elevators. No, they tended to prefer vast catacombs with endless sets of stairs. So yeah, I’d climbed more than my fair share of stairs. And I’d hated every last step.

  I made my way forward, and as my dirt and glass caked shoe touched down on the first onyx step, a fucking ninja leapt out of the shadows clinging to the side of the temple. His black as night katana slashed through the air, and the only thing that saved me was shock. My surprised ass had stumbled backward, causing the ninja’s attack to miss me by a hair’s breadth.

  As the gust of wind from his slash whipped across my face, I crashed to the glass on my butt, semi-thankful my slacks kept me from getting an ass full of glass. I fired the Glock at his chest, head, and crotch, making sure I allowed an irregular pause between the second and third shot.

  Much to my lack of surprise, he tried to parry the bullets. The first round clanged off his sword, eliciting a spray of crimson sparks, and as he brought the blade up to knock away my head shot, the third bullet caught him on the inner thigh. He didn’t scream, and truth be told there wasn’t much blood, so
for all I knew, it’d lodged into some kind of protective armor.

  Either way, as he fell backward onto the steps, I launched myself at the ninja. My shoulder met his midsection, driving his already toppling body backward into the stone steps. The blow shuddered along my entire body, but I ignored it as I reared back to bury my fist in his face before he could recover.

  I was too slow. He caught my punch with one hand and squeezed. The bones in my fist screamed and popped in agony, and as I tried to move to hit him with my other hand, his sword came whipping around at my head, scarlet light spilling across the edge.

  I dropped my gun and managed to catch his wrist with my hand, but there was so much strength behind his attack, I almost died anyway. As it stood, all I managed to do was veer his slash off course just enough for me to duck my head under the katana. The blade carved into the obsidian stairwell in a spray of sparks before coming to a stop embedded in the stone. He tugged on the weapon, trying to wrest the sword free of the stone, but King Arthur he was not.

  Taking advantage of his distraction, I drove my forehead into where it seemed like his nose would be. It felt like striking a cinderblock wall. The jolt of the blow rocked my brain and sent a jolt of pain rippling up my nerve endings. Still, I’d used my head to smash more than a few thugs, so I didn’t let that stop me from attacking further. Besides, I’d seen it work on a Prince of Hell.

  The ninja didn’t cry out as he slumped backward. I wrenched my fist free of his grip and drove it into his temple. The bones in my hand screamed in agony. I was pretty sure they weren’t broken because I’d been privy to that particular song and dance before, and you never quite forget how that feels, but it still hurt like a motherfucker.