Full Metal Magic: An Urban Fantasy Anthology

by J. A. Cipriano

  The chair flew at me, and I sprang backward, but before it reached me, it hit the end of its mechanized tether and snapped back into place. Was it some kind of automation?

  I wasn’t sure, but as I edged my way around it toward the door on the other end, eyes opened in its backboard and watched me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up, but I didn’t shoot it because I might need the bullets. I wanted to though. A lot.

  As I moved forward, I began to get antsy. The outside of the funhouse had been on fire, but inside here, it was kind of chilly. There was no sign of the fire that should have consumed the structure by now. That scared me. Well, that and the possibility something had gotten to Ricky.

  I took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on the task at hand. I exited the room and found myself standing before a large chasm filled with spikes. There was a rope dangling in front of me, presumably to help me get to the other side. I wasn’t sure if the spikes were real or not. I mean, if this was part of the funhouse, they were probably rubber or something, but for all I knew, someone had bippity-boppity-boo’ed them into real spikes.

  Either way, I wasn’t taking any chances. I holstered the Glock and grabbed the rope. When it didn’t come down, I tugged on it as hard as I could. It didn’t budge.

  “Well, here goes nothing,” I said aloud and my voice echoed in the narrow corridor. I leapt off the side, holding onto the rope for dear life. As I passed over the six foot chasm and my foot touched down on the other side, I braced myself for another attack. None came.

  I let loose a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and pulled the Glock free. Four bullets. I’d have to make them count. Ready to shoot on the first bad guy I saw, I moved forward until I found a set of narrow stairs.

  “I fucking knew it,” I groaned, shaking my head. “There’s always fucking stairs.”

  When I turned the corner after climbing the stairs, I nearly caught a face full of plasma. The only thing that saved me was my spidey-sense. It went absolutely berserk. As I jerked my head back, a blue beam of death lanced through the space where my head had been. Instead of obliterating my skull, it blew out the wall behind where I’d been in an explosion of fire and sound. The entire structure listed to the side as the crack of support beams giving way filled my ears.

  Sunlight streamed through the new opening in the funhouse as I dropped into a crouch and reached out with my magic, trying to feel for the source of the attack. Before I could sense anything at all, my spidey-sense started going crazy. I tried to move, but before I could, a hand the size of a catcher’s mitt burst through the wall beside me and grabbed my head.

  The cheap wall gave way like wet tissue paper as it hauled me painfully through and flung me like a sack of potatoes. My back slammed into the far wall, and I crashed to the floor. My breath shot out of my lungs and my vision went hazy, but I brought my gun up, anyway.

  I unloaded all four rounds into the bulky chest of the nine-foot-tall, bull-headed thing stomping toward me. The bullets pinged off his abs and ricocheted off into the darkness, which was no surprise since he was so ripped, even his abs had fucking abs.

  “Niu Mo Wang is displeased with your interference, mortal,” he half-growled, half-snorted. The sunlight glinted off his huge white bull’s horns as he regarded me with glowing red eyes. “You should have left well enough alone. Now, Niu Mo Wang will be forced to deal with you personally. This is unfortunate for you.”

  “Are you seriously referring to yourself in the third person?” I asked as I got to my feet. He didn’t move, evidently, unconcerned by little old me. That was fine. I loved being underestimated. It would make the look on his face when I killed him that much more enjoyable.

  “Niu Mo Wang does not need to explain himself to you.” He raised his ham-sized fists and smiled. “Let’s fight like gentlemen.” He added in a startlingly good impression of my voice. Only I was pretty sure I didn’t sound that dopey.

  “So you saw that?” I asked, running a hand through my sandy hair as I tried to think of a way to take this guy on. I was worried if I tried to use magic, he’d try to blast me again, and call me crazy, but I really didn’t want to get hit with his Special Beam Cannon if I could help it.

  “Niu Mo Wang saw you cheat, yes.” His lip curled into a disgusted scowl that sort of reminded me of how Ricky looked when she ate something she didn’t like. Man, I wondered if she was okay. I’d sort of expected her to make an appearance by now, but then again, she’d taken a sniper round to the face thanks to this guy. Sure, I’d killed the guy who had actually shot her, but this guy was just as responsible.

  “Good to know.” I raised my fists. “Bring it.”

  He charged like a bull. I stepped to the side as his huge bulk passed by me, and he slammed hard into the wall. His horns pierced the cheap wood, gouging great swaths in the wall as he tore himself free. As he whirled to face me, I saw the blinking lights of fire engines outside. The entire front of the funhouse was doused in water, which was probably why the place hadn’t burned down. Still, it was a little weird because I didn’t see any firemen outside. Where had they gone? I found it hard to believe they’d just leave their truck lying around.

  Niu Mo Wang didn’t give me time to figure it out because he threw a Mike Tyson style jab at my face. I ducked, thanking my lucky stars he was a lot slower than Sun Wukong had been. The blow passed by my head with enough force for the wind to ruffle my clothing, but I ignored it as I grabbed hold of his wrist and shifted while throwing my weight into the movement so I could use his bulk and momentum against him.

  He was big, but he was no match for my Judo skills. He came tumbling over my shoulder and crashed into the floor. I’d intended to keep him in a wrist lock, but the floorboards beneath him buckled under his weight, and he crashed through them with a sharp crack. I released him as he fell through the hole in the floor.

  His massive body slammed into the spiked floor I’d crossed with the rope earlier with an audible thwack. The spikes tore through him in a way that suggested they were very, very real. Niu Mo Wang lay there, dazed and confused as I smiled at my good fortune.

  “I was never a fan of having my steak well done, but for you, I’ll make an exception,” I replied, holding my demonic hand out in front of me. “Ignis!”

  A blast of Hellfire leapt from my palm and slammed into his chest. The blast blew through him, melting a hole straight through his torso and turning the concrete beneath him into slag. A banshee-like wail erupted from his lips as his jaws unhinged and spewed green smoke into the air. The form of Niu Mo Wang vanished, leaving behind the smoldering corpse of a tiny Asian kid with glasses. Fuck.

  Part of me should have felt bad about killing the kid who’d been possessed by the spirit, but I was way more pissed off that Niu Mo Wang wasn’t dead. His spirit was in that smoke, and I wasn’t letting it get away. I summoned more power, ready to hurl more Hellfire, but as I called upon my magic, the smoke surged past me and hit a curtained area just behind me.

  I took a hesitant step toward the curtain as the sound of ropes snapping filled the air. A bull-headed werewolf clad in hot pink Hello Kitty shorts and a white Hello Kitty tank top burst through the curtain and glared at me with smoldering eyes.

  “Chun?” I asked, wishing I had some silver bullets to pop into my Glock. Still, if it was Chun, I couldn’t kill her. She might be able to heal a lot of things, but silver would kill her. That’d make Ricky sad, and I really didn’t want to do that. No, I had to think of a way to get Niu Mo Wang out of her.

  “There is no Chun. There is only Niu Mo Wang,” the creature said right before hitting me like a goddamned freight train. My teeth snapped together as my body left the ground, and I flew backward through the broken wall of the funhouse.

  I fell five or so feet and crashed into the soaking wet purple awning stretching from the entrance of the funhouse. My weight tore through it, but it was enough to break my fall and keep me from dying as I fell another five feet to the ground. Air ex
ploded from my lungs as I lay there trying to orient myself to my strange new painful reality.

  The bull-headed werewolf sprang at me, and I was instantly glad the place was mostly deserted. Evidently Mei had done a good job of getting rid of everyone. The werewolf’s claws dug into the dirt beside me as I rolled away, half-torn between wanting to kill Niu Mo Wang and running the fuck away from the enraged Hellbeast. I sort of leaned toward running away because werewolves weren’t exactly fun to fight without silver, and this one was all hopped up on crazy sauce. Not a winning combination. Man, where the fuck was Ricky?

  Niu Mo Wang kicked me in the stomach as I tried to get to my feet. I was pretty sure it hadn’t broken anything, but that was only because its foot hadn’t hit my chest. If it had, I’d be in the market for new ribs. As it stood, saliva burst from my lips as I flew through the air.

  My back slammed into the red wall of the fire truck, and I collapsed to the ground. I could taste blood in my mouth. That was never good. Still, I was Mac Brennan, and it was time to teach Niu Mo Wang a fucking lesson.

  Niu Mo Wang stomped toward me, a cruel smile on its bull-face. As it bent to pick me up, Mei leapt out of the running, screaming crowd and tackled the bull to the ground. The two werewolves struggled for a moment until Niu Mo Wang grabbed Mei by the throat and flung her at me. I dropped back to the ground as the werewolf hit the firetruck with enough force for the vehicle to rock on its side.

  As she collapsed to the ground beside me, I grabbed the fire hose and turned toward the motherfucker, intent on blasting the Demon Bull King with a stream of water. Only, I had no idea how to turn the damned thing on. I’d thought there’d be a switch or something.

  Niu Mo Wang grabbed me around the throat and hauled me into the air like I weighed less than a supermodel after a purge.

  “Niu Mo Wang dislikes you a lot.” The creature’s breath had a fetid mix of hay and raw meat, which I’ll be honest, I didn’t even know was a smell.

  “It’s mutual,” I replied, grabbing the Demon Bull King’s wrist. “Sorbeo!”

  Power exploded through me, filling me to the brim in a second. Unfortunately, Niu Mo Wang didn’t seem to care. Actually that wasn’t true. The brute hauled me against his stolen werewolf body and held me there, pinning my arm between our chests.

  “Take all you like, mortal. Niu Mo Wang has plenty to share.” The bull’s teeth widened into a grin. They seemed way too sharp for bull’s teeth, but then again, he was part werewolf right now. It sort of made me wish I hadn’t been so quick to fry his last body. He’d been a lot easier to deal with when he didn’t have massive claws and teeth.

  “Get your hands off my boyfriend!” Ricky said, moments before she drop-kicked Niu Mo Wang in the side of the head. The bull-headed werewolf lost his grip on me and careened sideways like a broken mannequin.

  Ricky caught me before I could collapse, shot me a wry grin, and moved to stand between me and the slowly rising Niu Mo Wang. “Stay behind me, Satan,” she said, and her words nearly made me laugh. Only it hurt too much to do that.

  Stolen power still thrummed through my veins, and as Ricky and Niu Mo Wang leapt into the air like ninjas intent on gutting each other in midair, I unleashed all my stolen energy in the form of Hellfire. The fireball slammed into Niu Mo Wang’s shoulder, blowing off his left arm and setting him into a spin. Ricky took advantage by grabbing the bull by his horns with both hands.

  She flung Niu Mo Wang straight at me, setting me up for a knockout punch. As the bull-headed monster came at me, I knew I’d have only one shot. I drew in power, causing my tattoos to flare like the cursed daystar. Then I drove my fist straight into his oncoming face. I wasn’t trying to kill him because that’d kill Chun, and while I wasn’t worried about her being able to heal a missing arm, I was pretty sure she needed a head to, well, live.

  My flaming fist caught Niu Mo Wang right under the chin, snapping his head backward so violently, I knew I’d broken Chun’s spine. Thankfully, she was a werewolf. She’d heal just fine.

  The blow flung her body backward into the grass, and as she impacted the dirt, her mouth opened wide. Green mist began to spew from her face hole, and as it did, I reached out toward the forges of Hell themselves.

  “Ignis!” I unleashed everything I had, more than that because my vision went double and blackness encroached from everywhere. Fire spewed from my hand like a flamethrower, catching the smoke center mass. The stuff went up in an arc flash of heat and fire that gave me a wicked sunburn.

  I stumbled onto my ass, everything sort of fading into the distance around me. Still, I was pretty sure Niu Mo Wang was dead. I’d felt him die, felt his power burst outward in a shockwave causing the cat in my head to grin in a way that made my gut churn.

  “Mac, are you okay?” Ricky asked, moving toward me. Behind her, I could see Mei hoisting Chun to her feet. Her back was already healed. Sigh. I really needed to carry silver.

  “I’m fine,” I said, getting to my feet. It was way harder than it should have been. The place was deserted, but judging by the sirens in the distance, I was betting that just meant they’d gone for backup. Either way, we needed to get out of here.

  “Good.” Relief flashed across her face as she threw one of my arms over her shoulder and supported me. I wanted to tell her I was fine and could walk on my own, but I couldn’t. At least, not without eating something. I had burned up way too much energy.

  “So, how about that pie?” I asked, trying my best to smile at her.

  “Pie?” she asked as a mischievous grin spread across her lips. “Wouldn’t you rather just go back to the hotel room I got?”

  Continue the Thrice Cursed Mage in Cursed.

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  About the Author

  New York Times Bestselling author, J.A. Cipriano is not the Batman, but if he was, he'd totally lay down sick flows and fight crime. He is the author of the Lillim Callina Chronicles and the bestselling Thrice Cursed Mage Urban Fantasy Series.

  When he isn't out not fighting crime, he is spending time with his wife, three-year-old son, and his cat named Turtle. Oh, and writing. He does that occasionally too.

  Contact J.A. Cipriano here:

  JACiprianoAuthor

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  The Black Door - Domino Finn

  A Black Magic Outlaw Short Story

  Cisco Suarez is dragged to the depths of the underground Miami nightlife, where seekers of arcane knowledge may just get their wish.

  I'm a jeans-and-T-shirt kinda guy, but tonight I wore a slick button-down number I got special. Slim cut. White stitching along the shoulders and sleeves. Real sharp. Brand new jeans too. No holes or rips, honest.

  I drew a line at the red alligator cowboy boots. Those were staying on my feet, dress shirt or no. You could say we'd been through a lot together.

  The reason for all the fuss? Well, I could go into how my other clothes had blood on them, but that would be dramatic. Let's just blame it on date night. That sounds much more normal. Much less dangerous.

  Although I was dressed to the nines, the girl at my side wore a plainer ensemble. Tight pants and heels, sure, but a hoodie too. Girls can get away with stuff like that. Rachel was a striking figure that drew gawkers anyway. Thin, pale, with a walk that meant business. The bright pink hair flaring from her hood drew the eye, but her stylish sunglasses hiding half her face demanded privacy.

  We were off to a late start, but that's how it's done in Miami. Going out at midnight. Despite the hour, the alley blacktop radiated warmth. Humidity hung thick in the air. The Magic City, all right. From a distance, the downtown skyline is as stark and colorful as a Lite-Brite. Up close and personal you get the same grit as every other city, even if the rain washes it away more often.

  The short line in the alley cleared, and we stepped up to the bouncer. A heft
y man. More padding than muscle, but sturdy enough to take a punch. He stood in our way like his authority overruled Saint Peter's.

  "Cisco Suarez," I said. "I'm on the list."

  He frowned judgmentally and didn't bother cross-checking anything. Maybe there was no list. This wasn't my element and he knew it. Hot date, swanky clothes—ten years ago I wouldn't have recognized myself. I was never a club kid. Hell, I'm not a kid at all anymore. So I felt a little ridiculous under the glare of the twenty-something dance-club crowd.

  Then again, this wasn't a normal date. And this certainly wasn't a normal dance club.

  "Talent?" prodded the bouncer with a bored expression.

  I grinned. I wasn't good at dates or dancing, but I was good at this.

  I tugged the black twine around my neck and withdrew the silver whistle. I blew. It didn't make a sound. Not an audible one, at least. It was a dog whistle, but I don't think even the dogs heard it. I let the whistle hang loose instead of fiddling with my collar.

  The bouncer glanced at my date and then back at me. I smiled calmly as a pigeon fluttered from the sky and landed on my forearm.

  He arched an eyebrow. "What's this?"

  "Look closely."

  He grumbled and studied the pigeon. It was rank. Feathers matted with dried bodily fluids. Cracked upper beak. Its eyes had been eaten out by bugs. The bird was deader than dead. Yet there it sat, perched on my arm, awaiting my command.

  "Voodoo," muttered the bouncer, unimpressed. A common trick in Miami. He switched his arch to the other eyebrow. "Is that it?"

  "It's enough," I answered, sending the bird to the sky. "Trust me."

  He shrugged. It wasn't worth bothering with. He turned to my date robotically. "And you?"