Seized: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Thrice Cursed Mage Book 4)

by J. A. Cipriano

  The two still-twitching nuns were lying in pools of blood, which was good because they didn’t need their weapons anymore. I snagged one of their AK47s and threw the strap over my shoulder. Then I picked up the last AK47 and made my way back to the hallway with a shotgun in one hand and an assault rifle in the other. I had to give it to the nuns. They sure knew how to party.

  I glanced around, wondering if I should call out for my allies, but that might give away my position. While the nuns more than likely had backup, the others might not think much of gunfire, and it wasn’t like they could talk since they’d had their tongues cut out. On the other hand, calling for anyone would be like pointing a giant “come kill me” beacon at my face. Pass.

  The sound of gunshots broke out ahead, and as I sprinted toward the commotion instead of away from it because I was the world’s biggest dumbass, I heard the distinct sound of a double tap. I recognized the weapon. It was Jenna’s Baby Eagle. Sure enough, as I glanced into the lace room, I saw Jenna standing there dressed in a little black dress that made her look curvy enough to give even the most dazzling centerfold a run for her money.

  A dead nun with what looked like a still-glowing broadsword, lay at her feet in a steadily expanding pool of blood. Jenna glanced up from the dead nun and looked me over.

  “Nice of you to come save me, Mac,” she said, quirking a sculpted eyebrow in my direction.

  “Guess no one ever told her not to bring a knife to a gunfight,” I said, tossing the AK47 to Jenna since I had two, and I figured she knew how to use the gun.

  “The sisters were never known for being particularly smart.” She caught it in a smooth motion while kicking off the pair of black stilettos she’d been wearing. She slipped her feet into a sensible pair of black flats, which were likely way better for, you know, supernatural heists and dealing with homicidal nuns.

  “That’s probably why they didn’t just set the building on fire and wait across the way with sniper rifles. It’s what I’d have done,” I said, running through a million more effective scenarios in my head.

  Jenna shook her head. “No, instead they come in big and loud. All flash and bang.” She stepped in front of me and began making her way down the hallway, the AK47 gripped comfortably in her hands like she’d used the weapon a million times. Evidently, she didn’t need me to go first. Well, that was fine. I had no pressing desire to get myself shot. “It’s the kind of thing you’d do to distract your opponent while someone slipped behind them and slit their throats.”

  She drew her thumb across her neck as she said the words. I took an unconscious step back. Only it wasn’t because of what she said or done. No, it was because of the thought that spiraled into my brain. Something was wrong with this scenario.

  “Unless they are distracting us while Beleth does the ritual.” As soon as my words, left my mouth all the color drained from Jenna’s ebony face.

  “That… is an excellent point,” she said, worry tingeing her voice as she glanced into the far room. She must have been satisfied because a heartbeat later she stepped through the threshold. “We need to hurry and pray you’re wrong. If not, this is going to get a lot worse.”

  I sighed, noting how she’d neglected to finish her sentence with “before it gets better.” Something told me that wasn’t just an oversight on her part.

  Chapter 6

  While I was trying to get the demon who had given me my arm to help me escape, but like always she was too busy ignoring my cries we encountered more nuns. Before I could even blast them with my shotgun, Jenna had reduced them to piles of bloody meat with three quick bursts of her AK47. It was amazing because while I thought I was pretty damned awesome at shooting things in the face, she put me to shame in an awe-inspiring way. Yeah, she was that good.

  As we crossed the room, heading back outside and hopefully toward the rest of our crew, a nun came flying bodily through the mirror to our left. It shattered in a spray of glass revealing a room on the other side of the broken mirror.

  “Guess that’s seven years of bad luck,” I said as the nun collapsed to the ground next to us. Her body was a mass of cuts and bruises, and even though her throat had been torn out, and she was spraying blood from her carotid artery like a fountain, she still tried to bring her shotgun around to blast us.

  Thankfully, the weapon slipped from her bloody fingers before she could pull the trigger. As it clattered lifelessly to the slate, Vitaly glanced at us from the other side of the hole in the mirror. He hadn’t shifted, but the big Russian looked angrier than a mama bear protecting her cubs.

  “We need to leave,” Vitaly said, gesturing at the downed nun with one bloody hand, while pulling out his flask with the other. Sprays of blood marred his otherwise nice black shirt, but I was assuming it’d have looked ten times worse if he’d been wearing white. “I sent Wendy outside to start car. I came back to find you.”

  He took a swig from the flask and pocketed it. Almost immediately the rage in his eyes faded, and I wondered for the first time if maybe his drinking was a way of mellowing him out so he didn’t rage kill us all. It was a sobering thought.

  I nodded to him, and as I did, Vitaly yanked off his shirt, sending buttons flying in every direction. As he used it to wipe the blood off his face and hands, I stood there in awe of him. To say the Russian was ripped was the understatement of the year. He had so many muscles his muscles had muscles, and his muscles’ muscles were bigger than mine.

  He grabbed another shirt off a rack and slung it on. He buttoned it with one hand while snatching a gold tie off the display next to it. Without a word, he pulled it around his neck and marched out of view.

  “Let’s go,” Jenna said, leaping through the broken mirror like a ballet dancer. She landed lithely on the other side as I covered her with my AK47. Once she was through, she turned and covered me while I made my way through the razor-edged hole. I was way less athletic about it.

  As I scrambled through the maw of broken, jagged glass, I somehow managed to make it to the other side without slicing myself to ribbons, which was good. I would have looked horrible sliced to ribbons. Jenna nodded to me as I emerged and made her way toward the broken front windows of the shop, hoping Wendy had our getaway van ready to go.

  A pair of what looked like storm shutters had been punched inward and lay in a pile of rubble on the floor. Had they descended to protect the building before they’d been blown away by a subsequent explosion?

  It was a little weird because I didn’t think they needed storm shutters in New York, but then again, I wasn’t from here and had no memory so what did I know? Still, what had brought them down? Was there some kind of silent alarm? I wasn’t sure, but if there was, it meant one thing. Police would be on the way, and there was no way that would end well for us since the parking lot was filled with over a dozen bodies.

  All of them looked like they’d been sliced open with a fire axe, but I’ll be honest, I mostly thought that because the one closest to our stolen van had a fire axe buried in her chest. I guess that was the quickest way to a nun’s heart.

  Wendy sat perched behind the wheel of said van, but she was so tiny, it seemed like she could barely see over the steering wheel. It made the sight of Vitaly getting into the passenger seat next to her almost comical by comparison.

  “Hurry!” Vitaly called as police sirens flashed in the distance and the telltale sound of a helicopter filled my ears. That wasn’t good. While I’d taken out a couple of helicopters in my past, it never seemed to end well.

  Jenna and I sprinted toward the open back doors. I’m ashamed to say it, but even though my lungs were burning, and I’d given it all I had, Jenna was already inside the van and fastening her seatbelt by the time I’d reached the van. I’d barely shut the doors when Wendy took off in a squeal of burning rubber that sent me tumbling into the doors I’d just closed.

  We bounced out of the parking lot and slammed into a passing Mercedes with enough force to tear the back end off of the luxury car. O
ur van, on the other hand, seemed perfectly fine, but that was probably because it was used by nuns with access to Special Forces vehicles. It sort of made me sad they weren’t on our side. If they were, I’d have loved to take a peek into their armory. Then again, I was sort of fond of my tongue.

  “I think we need to stop wasting time and complete the job as soon as possible,” I said as I clambered over to the partition separating the cab from the back of the van instead of taking a seat.

  “No, we need to ditch this heap so the sisters can’t track us,” Wendy said from the front seat. Her eyes were locked on the road as she moved us down side streets as fast as she could. No police seemed to be in view, but it wouldn’t take long for the Mercedes owner to give our description to the cops. Once that happened, the helicopter would find us in no time.

  “Be that as it may,” I said, reaching forward and grabbing onto her chair for stability as she spun us into a tight right turn. “I think these nuns are a distraction. They’re making us waste our time dealing with them. Usually when someone tries to distract you, it’s because they want to do something else while you’re focused on said distraction.”

  “Is excellent point,” Vitaly said, rubbing his chin with one blood-smeared hand. “Wendy, take us to the Empire State building. It will be quickest way inside.”

  “You’re out of your goddamned mind if you think I’m driving this thing into Manhattan,” Wendy said as she made a right turn through a red light even though doing so was illegal in New York.

  “You know you’re not supposed to do that here,” Marvin said, pointing at the no turn on red sign. “Can’t you read the sign?”

  “What are they going to do? Mail me a ticket?” Wendy asked, not taking her eyes off the road. “News flash. I’m driving a stolen van that belongs to a bloodthirsty death cult.”

  “This is why you can’t get a license,” Marvin said indignantly and crossed his wooden arms over his chest. “Or have nice things.”

  “Head to Jamaica station,” Jenna called from behind me. “It’ll be faster to take the train anyway, and we can ditch this van too. It’s a twofer.”

  “Wait, why are we going to the Empire State building?” I growled in frustration as I smacked the seat with my hand. “We’re supposed to be rescuing those kids and so far all we’ve done is shop. Now you want to go sightseeing?”

  “Mac, to get to Beleth’s hideout, we have to enter through a thin place. There’s one at the Empire State Building,” Jenna said, and when I turned to look at her, she gave me a sly smile. It was the kind of smile that let me know she relished the idea of telling me more uncomfortable truths so she could see the look on my face. I wasn’t sure I wanted to give her the honor.

  “What’s a thin place?” I asked, deciding I wanted to know more than I wanted to deny her the pleasure of fucking with me.

  “Thin place is where border around Earth is thin. Easy to break,” Vitaly said from the front seat. “We break into evil lair from there. Will be easy because border is thin. Understand?”

  “So we’re going to jump through a portal at the Empire State Building and wind up in Beleth’s hideout?” I shook my head as I tried to process that. “That sounds crazy, and besides, what is to stop her from watching the entrance?”

  “No one uses the Empire State Building entrance,” Jenna said, her smile returning as the Devil twinkled in her eyes. “No one will be watching, and even if someone is watching, it won’t be more than we can handle.” Her eyes moved to the shotgun in my hand and the AK47 slung over my shoulder. It was when I realized she’d kept the pilfered AK too.

  “And where exactly is Beleth’s lair?” I asked, hoping I was wrong. “Since you said the border is thin, I’m guessing that means we won’t be on Earth?”

  “Hell, Mac. We’re going to Hell. Well, a tiny subdivision of Hell. Like the suburbs,” Wendy said from the front seat. Judging by the lack of cheer in her voice, she didn’t seem terribly thrilled about it. “That’s what is on the other side of this particular thin place. That’s why they didn’t just come out and say where we were going.” Her cold, empty eyes glanced at me in the rearview mirror, and as she stared a hole in me, I realized she was telling the truth. We really were going to Hell. Fuck.

  “Awesome,” I said, hoping my stolen weapons would be enough because it didn’t seem like it would be enough to storm Hell. “Just fucking awesome.”

  Chapter 7

  Thankfully, we weren’t plagued by gun-toting nuns on the train ride to Manhattan. Less fortunately, we’d had to ditch all our guns, by which I mean Jenna and I had to ditch our guns since we were the only ones carrying them. Not having a weapon made me feel naked and exposed, especially since there weren’t many problems I couldn’t solve by shooting them in the face.

  When we emerged from Penn station, the air was surprisingly brisk. As we walked along Thirty-Fourth Street toward Fifth Avenue, I found myself glad I had a trench coat instead of a suit jacket. No suit would have been able to withstand this kind of chill. Still, it made me feel like a little bit of a wuss since girls were walking around in short skirts and t-shirts. Whatever, at least I was mostly warm.

  “So where is the thin place?” I asked, glancing at my entourage and sighing. We looked like the racially diverse cast of a sitcom. “I know you said it was at the Empire State Building, but that’s a pretty big building.”

  “Around the eighty-fourth floor,” Wendy said, glancing up at the building while shielding her eyes from the glare with one hand. She mumbled to herself in what sounded like Latin and nodded once. “Yeah, the eighty-fourth floor.”

  “And how do we get to the thin place on the eighty-fourth floor?” I asked, hoping we weren’t going to have to scale the building from the outside or try something even crazier.

  “We take the elevator, Mac,” Wendy said, glancing at me like I was a total idiot before stepping into the building. I let out a sigh. Of course we would be taking the elevator. Man, I really needed to stop hanging out with the supernatural. I’d totally expected to be whisked up via magic.

  The others followed after the girl like she was some kind of thin place smelling bloodhound, which based on her earlier actions, seemed likely. I guess we all had our roles to play after all. I was, obviously, a Cursed, and Jenna was clearly a badass mercenary. Vitaly was our fearless leader who was also some kind of mutant vodka-gulping werebear.

  Wendy was the big question mark. Other than bicker with her creepy “talking” doll, I hadn’t seen her do much of anything. Sure, she’d come out of the diner carrying a severed head and covered in blood, but I hadn’t seen her tear the head off the nun, who owned it, or anything. For all I knew, she was just eye candy.

  However, being able to spot the thin place leading into Beleth’s lair seemed like as good a reason as any to have her along, and it certainly seemed like she could do that. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that her ability to find thin places was just a bonus and not because she’d walked out with a decapitated head.

  After all, pretty much everyone in our party seemed more than capable of going all sorts of “bull in a china shop” on our enemies. No, she had to be here for another reason. There was definitely more to the girl than met the eye, and I wished I knew what it was. Despite being an ardent believer in expecting the unexpected, surprises had a way of, well, acting in an unexpected way.

  I pushed the thought away. There were only two emotions on a job, fear and hope. If I succumbed to fear before we even started, I might as well put a gun to my head and pull the trigger now. Still, putting my hope in Vassago to assemble a team that would help me succeed in rescuing the kids stretched my ability to hope to the absolute limit. I didn’t doubt the demon wanted his payday, but I didn’t think he’d care about casualties. If I, or any of the children not specifically bought and paid for, became one of those casualties, well, I was pretty sure the demon wouldn’t lose sleep over it.

  “You coming, princess?” Marvin asked, his wooden head poking
out from Wendy’s black backpack like an angry cat. “Or you just going to stand outside and mope?”

  “That’s his thing,” Jenna said, glancing at me from just beyond the threshold. “He gets all broody just before every mission. This is the part where he decides whether or not he can trust us. Newsflash, Mac. You can.”

  I glared at her, and she gave me an evil wink. That was exactly what had been going on, and it pissed me off to think she knew me that well when I didn’t know a thing about myself or her. Well, when this was over, I was going to sit Jenna down for a long talk. Assuming, of course, we both made it through this mission alive. If we were really going to venture into Hell, even if it was just to the “suburbs,” there were infinite ways this could go south. The idea that our job would go off without a hitch was almost laughable.

  “So where’s the elevator?” I asked as we walked toward a throng of people in line to buy tickets to the top of the tower.

  “On the other end of that line, unfortunately,” Jenna said, gesturing at the snaking crowd while staring at her smart phone dismally. “It’s an hour wait too.”

  “Is no matter,” Vitaly said, glancing at Jenna and heading over to the will call counter. “We aren’t paying.” He stepped into the much smaller will call line. A few minutes later, he emerged with several express VIP tickets to the top of the tower. As he handed them out to each of us, his eyes twinkled. “USA is good country. You can pay to skip line. Is closest thing to royalty.”

  “Awesome,” Wendy said, the first hint of cheer entering her voice since I’d met her. “I always wanted to be first class.”

  I glanced at the ticket in my hand as we made our way to the VIP entrance. I wasn’t sure how much these tickets cost, but even if it wasn’t a lot, I was really glad Vassago was footing the bills. It made me wonder how Vassago handled expenses. Was there a daily stipend or did you just turn in your receipts? I probably should have found out, but I didn’t have a single dollar to my name so I couldn’t have bought anything anyway. A stipend would have been nice though.