Seized_An Urban Fantasy Novel

by J. A. Cipriano

  “Mac and Wendy sitting in a tree,” Marvin sang as I followed her through the doorway and stepped into nearly total darkness. “K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”

  “Shh,” Wendy said, zipping the backpack closed and muffling her brother’s voice, which was good because I’d had it up to here with his stupid.

  A blush spread across Wendy’s cheeks as we moved toward the light at the end of the tunnel. I wasn’t sure what was casting the orange glow, but whatever it was had already drawn Vitaly and Jenna toward it like a moth to a flame.

  As we approached, Vitaly took a huge swig from his flask, and without a word, offered it to Jenna. She took one longing glance at it before shaking her head. The big Russian shrugged and took another gulp before pocketing it.

  When we got to them, I realized why. We were on a sheer cliff overlooking a room. At least a hundred Sisters of the Black Flame were spread out on the glittering orange floor below, prostrating themselves before an onyx altar. Purple and orange torches filled the space below with dancing light. Shadows crept along the ground in a way completely divorced from the torchlight.

  Beleth stood in the center of the room, overlooking the desiccated corpse upon the altar. I wasn’t sure how I could tell it was her since she was wearing a robe that covered her from head to toe, but I could. The sight of her made my blood run cold with fear, although it wasn’t for my own personal safety. No, it was because she was covered in blood. The altar and floor around her was filled with a slowly congealing pool of the stuff.

  Over a hundred corpses of various ages, sexes, and creeds were strung up above her on a rack that reminded me of the ones at dry-cleaning places. Blood leaked from their slit throats, painting the altar and all the ground around it in crimson. Just beyond the bodies, I could see a set of stairs that led up to a platform with what looked like a winch. Was that where they exchanged the victims? It seemed likely, and not just because the wall behind the winch was lined with over a dozen prison-grade cages. I couldn’t make out how many people were still inside those cells, but judging by the pile of corpses off to the side, I was guessing it wasn’t too many.

  A chant in that same language I’d heard the Princess of Mirrors use, emanated from Beleth’s throat as she waved a dagger made of flecked obsidian across the charred, goat-headed corpse in front of her, and I was immediately thankful I was far enough away that I couldn’t make out the words. Even from here, the sound irritated my eardrums and made my temples throb.

  “So what’s the plan?” Jenna asked, looking at Vitaly and gesturing below with her gun. “I don’t have nearly enough bullets for all of them, and while you can all handle yourself, I’m not sure any of us can stand up to an angry demon.”

  “Whatever it is, it had better be quick,” Wendy said, her voice hushed as she stared wide-eyed at the scene below. “Because that corpse on the table is Baphomet, and judging by the demonic power swirling around him, Beleth’s nearly succeeded in calling him back from oblivion. If that happens, we’ll be fighting two demons.”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked, glancing from the corpse to Wendy and back again.

  “Legend says that Beleth’s brother, Baphomet was smote good and hard by the archangel Raphael. Since then, Beleth has been trying to bring her brother back.” She gestured at the corpse. “Looks like now’s the time.”

  “Awesome,” Jenna muttered, rubbing her temples with one hand. “So we might have to deal with two demons, and even if we interrupt the ritual, Beleth is going to rip us apart because she’s been working on this for who knows how long.”

  “Stopping ritual is not our concern,” Vitaly said, creeping along the edge of the cliff toward the cages. He pointed at the cages. “I can smell Angela Prescott. If we can retrieve her and vanish, all will be good. We can make escape.”

  “What about the other kids?” I asked, trying to figure out how we could cross over a hundred feet of air, get to the platform, incapacitate the two nuns standing by the cages, open said cages, and get back with one hostage, let alone all of them.

  “They are not part of the deal,” Vitaly said, taking a sip from his flask. “I am paid for Prescott only. Not even bonus money for others.”

  “Besides,” Marvin piped up. “Once Beleth realizes you’ve snatched a kid, she’ll be on us like flies on shit. We’ll want as much of a head start as possible.”

  “I’m not going to leave kids to die down here,” I growled, about ready to blow a gasket. Were they seriously implying we were only going to save Angela Prescott when faced with the very real possibility of the rest of those kids being strung up like slaughtered cattle. Well, fuck that.

  “Mac,” Jenna said, swallowing hard. “I don’t like it either, but they’re right. We came here for one kid, not ten. We can’t get that many out. If it was one or two more, I’d be with you on this but ten? That’s impossible.” She shook her head, looking away from the cages. “We need to leave them or no one gets out.”

  “Is okay. You fill spot in your humanity with money,” Vitaly said, clapping one big hand on my shoulder. “And if that doesn’t work, use vodka.” He offered me the flask. “Here is some good stuff.”

  “That’s not going to work for me,” I said, shaking my head. “I guess I’m just not wired for douchebag.”

  “Mac,” Vitaly said, stepped closer to me so I could feel the heat radiating off his huge body. “There is no way to do it and survive. To get all kids out we need big distraction and luck. Look around. We cannot do either.” He offered me the flask again. “I am sorry.”

  “Me too,” I said, grabbing Vitaly’s arm while twisting my hips. As I stepped through the motion, flinging him over my shoulder, my tattoos came to life, augmenting my strength. As the big Russian flew through the air and slammed down right on top of the altar with a sickening crash, the only thing I could think was, “Well, there’s your big distraction, jackass.”

  Chapter 19

  Beleth’s rage-filled scream was loud enough to shatter my hearing. A sharp ring filled my ears as the female demon turned her amethyst eyes upon us. Her lips twisted into a frigid mask and fire danced in the dark caverns of her pupils.

  “Fools,” she said, and the word skidded across the surface of my brain like a hockey puck wrapped in razor wire. “Take him.” She gestured at Vitaly, who lay there dazed on top of the emaciated, skeletal corpse of Baphomet.

  Purple sparks leapt from her fingertips and fluttered around the big man like a host of lavender fireflies, and as they slowly landed on the big man, Baphomet’s ravaged hand burst through Vitaly’s chest clutching the Russian’s still-beating heart. Vitaly’s body bowed upward as blood fountained from the hole in his chest.

  Unfortunately, my view of the macabre spectacle was suddenly cut off because Beleth appeared in front of me. Before I could even react to her suddenly being there, she reached out and grabbed me by the throat. My clothing began to smoke as her hand burst into silver flames. The smell of burning flesh filled my nose as she hauled me up into the air.

  Jenna’s Baby Eagle boomed, and Beleth’s head rocked to the left in a spray of purple goo. The demon’s grip on my throat started to slip, and as she turned her head toward Jenna, the gun barked twice more in quick succession. A scream unlike anything I’d ever heard before sundered what remained of my hearing.

  I fell, crashing to the stone on my back as Beleth wobbled backward clutching her two ruined eyes. Blood flowed through her purple fingers as Jenna calmly raised one foot and kicked the demon backward off the cliff. Beleth fell, slamming into the ground below hard enough to crack the rock and send fissures shooting out in every direction. The demon tried to get up, but her arms buckled beneath her and she flopped forward. I wasn’t sure how long it’d take for her to recover, but something told me we didn’t have long.

  “I hope your plan B is fucking awesome,” Jenna snarled as I scrambled to my feet while trying to shake the cobwebs from my brain. My throat ached from where Beleth had grabbed me, but even worse, my fles
h felt burned. It wasn’t too bad right now, but from the way the irritation was growing, I knew it was going to get bad before it got better.

  “I’m going to get to that platform while you cover me,” I said, swallowing my pain. I raised my demonic arm and pointed at the nearest cage while trying to visualize my demonic web-shooter. The spell had always been hard for me to use, but I was never quite sure why. Still, I needed it to work at least twice. Once to get me there, and once to get me back.

  “Okay,” Jenna said, dropping to one knee and popping off two quick shots. Her bullets caught the nuns standing on the platform with the cages square in their foreheads. The AK47s in their hands toppled to the stone at their feet as they slumped to the ground in unison, their brains sprayed across the glimmering iron bars behind them.

  “Kill them!” growled Vitaly, his voice echoing throughout the chamber, bouncing off the walls and hitting me in the face like a fist.

  I spared a quick glance below and wished I hadn’t. Baphomet’s corpse sat upright, one hand all the way up inside the big Russian as the demon worked Vitaly’s mouth like a goddamned puppet. Worse, several of the nuns were running toward a huge olive drab metal locker in the corner. Its doors were hanging open and two more nuns stood beside it passing out assault rifles like they were going out of style. This was going to get bad fast.

  “Ignis!” I said, launching a fireball at the nuns. It struck the locker with a sound like a thousand tons of dynamite. Bullets shot off in every direction and the nuns dove for cover. Those with guns pointed them at us and began to fire. Still, at least there weren’t as many guns now. Small victories, right?

  “I’ve got this,” Wendy said, glancing at me. “Just remember what I said, Mac. Get Prescott out.” As bullets chewed up the rock around us, Wendy stepped off the cliff, while Marvin raised one hand to his head and made a cuckoo gesture. I was almost inclined to agree.

  Wendy crashed feet first onto Beleth as the demon started to rise. The force of it drove the demoness face first into the tile. Wendy grunted in pain, her face twisting in agony as she collapsed forward. She hit the ground in a roll that looked like it hurt a lot and came up on her feet, the shaving razor gripped in one hand.

  “Hurry it up, Mac,” Jenna said, pulling a magazine from her boot and slamming it into her pistol in one fluid movement. “I’m on my backup magazine. Once I’m out of ammo, I won’t be able to take out the ones trying to fill us full of lead.”

  “Okay,” I said, turning my gaze back toward the cages as Jenna fired again.

  As the Baby Eagle barked next to me, I visualized the red tendril, only it didn’t appear like it normally did in my mind. It was distinctive, unlike the malformed tentacles I’d formed before. A sudden realization struck me. I knew why it had been so hard to conjure. I didn’t know the magic word.

  “Necto!” I cried, and as I said the word, a tendril of pure scarlet shot out from my hand like a bullet. It smacked into the far wall with a thwip before snapping taut. “Good luck.”

  “You too,” Jenna replied as I recalled the tendril. I shot forward off the edge of the cliff, flying through the air as fast as gravity and my magic could carry me, which was to say, too fast. I barely had time to get my legs in front of me to absorb the impact before I crashed into the far wall. The blow reverberated throughout my entire body, jarring my hips painfully as I released the magical tendril and landed hard on the ground between the nuns’ twin corpses.

  “Who are you?” said a high-pitched male voice from within the cage closest to my left.

  “I’m Mac Brennan, but you might as well call me Superman because I’m here to rescue you,” I said, picking up both of the fallen AK47s and pointing them down the stairs on my right. I let off a quick burst of fire that punched through the chest of the closest nun. She went down in a spray of crimson as the two nuns coming up the stairs behind her let loose with their own guns.

  I took a shot in the shoulder and was saved only by my trench coat. Still, it was enough to stagger me. My next volley of fire went wide. As my bullets chewed into the stone walkway beside them, more shots came flying at me, pinging off the cages behind me. A scream cut through the gunfire as someone within one of the cages went down. Fuck. Double Fuck.

  “Tueri!” I cried, stepping out in front of the cages and blocking the staircase with my flaming body. “Say hello to my little friend!” I let loose with the AK47s on the nuns below, jerking the assault rifles back and forth and spraying the nuns with bullets. Surprisingly, none of them ducked for cover or went running even as their fellow sisters went down in a hail of gunfire. They just continued to shoot at me. Talk about commitment to their cause.

  Bullets bounced off my shield as the gun in my right hand clicked empty. I dropped it and whirled on my heel. As bullets smashed into my back, I grabbed the bars of the closest cage with my right hand and called upon my magic.

  “Resero!” A crimson wave of energy burst from my hand, hitting the cage in front of me and spreading like thick fog across the ten cages still containing prisoners.

  A wave of exhaustion and nausea hit me as the doors swung open, and I knew that the spell, combined with my shield, had tapped a lot more energy than I could afford. I swallowed the nausea back down my throat, spun, and took two steps forward before burying my heel in the face of the first nun to make it up the stairs. She fell backward into the sister behind her, causing a domino like cascade of bodies tumbling down the stone steps.

  As they struggled to recover their balance, I held out my hand and called up way more magic than I should have. “Ignis!”

  The fireball exploded from my hand like a grenade, filling the entire staircase with fire. The smell of charred meat and burned hair filled my nose as Hellfire obliterated every last person in the stairwell. Good, that’s what I’d wanted. Kentucky Fried Nun. I swung my head back toward the now open cages, and as I did, a wave of dizziness swept over me.

  “Come on!” I cried, gesturing for them to follow me down the stairs. I wasn’t sure where the exit was, but I was hoping I could find it before we all died. Either way, staying up here was going to get us shot full of holes sooner rather than later, especially since I’d long since stopped hearing Jenna’s gun bark. That meant one thing. She was out of bullets.

  “What if we get shot?” asked a tiny blonde girl wearing jeans and a Rainbow Dash T-shirt as she crept out of the cage on her hands and knees.

  “Then you die, so don’t do that,” I said, moving down the stairs. “But you can come with me or stay here and take your chances. Personally, I’d choose me.”

  They followed, slowly at first, but they quickened their pace when bullets started flying again. Thankfully, the nuns didn’t seem to be concentrating fire on them which was probably because they still needed them alive. I doubled my speed down the stairs, trying to stay far enough ahead of the kids to keep them from getting shot or hit by ricochets.

  The nuns’ bullets bounced off me like I really was Superman, but I knew it wouldn’t last. With every shot I took, I could feel my power wane. Fuck. This wasn’t going to work.

  As I reached the last stair and stepped out into the room, I was greeted by the sight of a blood bath. Nuns lay strewn about the corridor, their throats slit open while Wendy danced toward me like a ballerina of death, her razor flicking out at breakneck speed. Whenever it did, a spray of blood followed and a nun went down.

  “Which one is Angela Prescott?” Wendy huffed, glancing past me at the gaggle of children following behind me. She paused and wiped the blood off her face in an effort to see better, and as she did, a nun whirled on her and shoved the barrel of her AK47 into Wendy’s stomach.

  Before I could blink, Wendy spun, came up behind a nun, and slit her throat. She whirled, using the nun’s bleeding corpse as a human shield while wrapping her hand around the nun’s gun. Wendy unloaded the weapon, spraying the nuns behind her with bullets.

  “I’m Angela Prescott,” squeaked the tiny blonde who had questioned me
earlier. She stood there wide-eyed, mouth agape as she watched Wendy drop over ten people in the span of a heartbeat. I’ll admit it was pretty awe-inspiring, but as I looked at Angela, I was just glad she hadn’t been the one who had gotten shot.

  That would have ended our mission really quickly. Still, I felt bad about the kid who had gotten shot since it was my fault. Part of me wanted to go back for whoever had been injured, but I couldn’t, not if I wanted to get the rest of them out of here alive. The fact that I could shut it off so easily, hurt me. No, even if I could leave the victim, I had to go back. If I didn’t, it would truly mean something was broken inside me.

  “Good,” Wendy said, dropping the nun’s bullet-riddled corpse and sprinting over to the girl. “I’m taking Angela. The rest of you follow. Let’s go!” Without another word, she swept Angela Prescott up in her arms and took off running toward the doorway at the far end of the room. She was way faster than I’d thought she was, especially considering she was holding a teenager in her arms and spinning through nuns like an expert running back.

  “Hurry!” Jenna called. She stood just inside the doorway across the room, taking down nun after nun with practiced, professional shots from her pilfered AK47.

  “You heard her!” I said, spraying the rest of the bullets in my assault rifle in a vain attempt to keep the suicidal nuns from shooting at us. It worked better than I expected, mostly because the nuns had mostly stopped shooting at me and were charging after Wendy en masse. “Get moving!”

  I gestured for the kids to run after Wendy as she cleaved through the attacking nuns like a hot knife through butter. A stream of nine children sprinted past me, and only one looked hurt. A girl about twelve or thirteen was bleeding from a glancing gunshot wound in her shoulder. Was she the one who had gotten shot? I sure hoped so because if not, that meant someone was still back up there, but if there was no one up there, I didn’t have to go back. Thank God!