Cursed: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Thrice Cursed Mage Book 1) (21 page)

Since I could see flashing lights about a block away, I was especially anxious to get out of here. Fortunately, I didn’t have many promises left to keep, nor did I have miles to go before I slept. I only had one thing left to do. Stop being Batman.

I crossed the cobblestone floor and picked up Van’s sledgehammer. I hefted it in my hands, getting use to the weight as I walked over to Van. He wasn’t moving, but for all I knew, getting his demonic arm lopped off and taking six fifty-caliber rounds to the chest would result in nothing more than a bad hangover. I wasn’t interested in finding out.

I raised the hammer high into the air, and when I brought it down, I didn’t miss.

Chapter 26

Much to my surprise, the space in front of me ripped apart like torn fabric, spilling orange light across the room. Heat unlike I’d ever felt before, hit me full in the face, sucking the moisture from my body as I staggered backward, clutching the hammer for dear life.

Death sat within the tear’s swirling depths astride his pale horse. The creature whinnied, and he kicked it hard in the side with one black-soled heel. The horse put its head down and trotted forward until its feet clomped onto the cobblestones in front of me.

“I always told you this day would come, Van.” Death’s words scurried across my flesh as panic reared its head up and swallowed me whole. “You always tried to tell me you were invincible, and what did I do? I laughed.” Ghastly laughter spilled from between his too white teeth. “I find I am still laughing now.”

Death reached out with one bony hand and grabbed at the air just in front of Van’s body. He pulled and some wiggling, squirming thing tore free of Van. It writhed, struggling in Death’s grip, but the reaper didn’t seem to mind. He turned to regard me and held up Van’s soul like he was the predator showing off a new skull for his collection.

“Thanks,” he said in that wind blowing through a graveyard voice of his. “I’ve been after this one for a while.” I got the impression he was grinning at me even though his face was little more than a hollow skull. “But don’t think this means you’ll get any special treatment from me.”

His pale horse turned, and he began trotting toward the portal. I was glad. Even though he hadn’t come to reap me personally, just being near him was enough to make me hope I never died just so I wouldn’t ever have to meet him again. It was a foolish thought since death, especially for a guy with a demonic arm, was an inevitability, but still. Still.

As his horse clopped back into the depths from whence it’d come, the reaper turned back to regard me carefully. “Thank you again,” he said, and shifted on his saddle, allowing a slip of paper to fall from his pocket and drift lazily to the ground at my feet. His skeletal grin returned, and he chuckled once more before turning away from me and disappearing into the rent in space and time.

It vanished without a trace, leaving me standing there dumbfounded. I half-wondered if I’d just hallucinated the whole episode, but as I stood there gaping like an idiot, I realized the slip of paper that had fallen from the pocket of his dark robe was still there.

Woodenly, I picked up the note. An address was written on it, and something about it filled me with a sense of dread I couldn’t explain. I knew that place. It was important to me. And if it was important to me, did it hold the key to saving the woman and child from my shards of memory? I had to know.

I muttered a silent word of thanks to Death and turned back toward the window as police cars came to a stop outside. I was out of time. So what did I do? I readied myself to jump from the window. It wasn’t my best play, especially since I had no idea if I’d survive such a fall or if I could use magic to slow my descent, but I was out of options. You know, until I came to the window’s edge and saw Jack standing on the ground below me.

“I’ll catch you, Princess,” he called and because I knew I wouldn’t do it if I thought about it at all, I waited exactly no seconds before throwing myself from the window.

He caught me. It hurt more than I expected, and even though Jack had moved with the force of my fall, I was really sure I’d have monumental bruises in the morning. It made me wonder how Lois Lane managed to survive being caught by Superman, but then again, the Man of Steel had superhuman reflexes. He could probably compensate.

Jack dropped me roughly onto the ground, and as the mist closed up over the top of me, I saw Duane grinning at me from a few feet away. He had one hand driven deep into the dark earth while his other was outstretched toward the mist like he was controlling it.

“Neat trick, eh?” he said, and I smiled by way of reply.

Sera sat a few feet away, hugging John to her chest. It made me wonder how long I’d been alone up there. It hadn’t felt very long, but maybe it was longer than I thought since she was awake and hugging her son fiercely. She looked like she still needed to visit an emergency room, but being that Jack had healed my broken bones in the space of a second, I was willing to bet she wouldn’t be seeing a doctor.

“So how do we get out of here?” I asked, glancing down at the slip of paper clutched in my fist.

“We walk,” Duane said, pulling his hand from the earth and standing up. He looked wearier than he had a second before, but as he pushed past me, I realized the shroud of mist had descended across the whole of the neighborhood, making it so I couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of me. He must not have had a similar problem because only a few minutes later we emerged on the outside of the gate and made our way past the several officers surrounding our “borrowed” car.

“So what’s the plan?” I asked as we kept walking toward what looked like a strip mall in the distance.

“We get the hell out of here,” Duane replied, glancing at me over his shoulder as he moved forward. “You got somewhere you need to be?”

“Yes, actually,” I said, holding up the slip of paper, still not sure if it was real. “I think this might help me find out who I really am.”

Duane nodded, but it was Jack who grunted. As I turned toward him because he was taking up the rear, he reached past Sera and snatched it from my fingers. I’d barely realized he had taken the note in the time it took him to read it and offer it back to me like it was a live snake.

“That is bad mojo,” he said, shaking his head. “It smells of death.” He tapped his chest. “And as an upstanding member of the undead community, I know a thing or two about death.” He took a deep breath, and I immediately wondered if he needed to breathe, being a vampire and all. “And even though I know you won’t listen to me, I’m going to tell you, do not go there.”

“It’s my only chance,” I whispered and held out my right arm. “I don’t know why I got this, but the only thing I remember was someone kicking the shit out of me while a woman and her child got abducted. If this note leads me to a clue, I have to take that chance.”

Jack looked like he was going to say something when Sera reached out and took the note from his hand. They exchanged a glance that must have had some sort of psychic communication in it because he looked away.

“Be careful,” she said, pushing it into my hand.

“I will,” I said, smiling at her. She smiled back. It wasn’t the nicest smile I’d ever seen. It was tired and ragged around the edges, but it was definitely the most relieved smile I’d ever seen. The gratefulness shining through made me happy from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. No matter what happened next, I had saved her and her son from a monster. How bad could I possibly be?

“Good,” she replied, and with that she kissed me on the cheek. I’ll be honest, it threatened the structural integrity of my legs and made it a little hard for me to breathe.

“He doesn’t need to be careful,” John said, wrapping his arms around me as the surrounding mist lifted, revealing the sunrise high above. The sun’s rays spilled across the sky like an over easy egg in a glittering pan of orange and purple. “He’s a hero, and the hero always wins.” He pulled me down into a hug, and I let him do it. Then he leaned in close to my ear. “Even if the hero thinks he’s a bad guy.”

Chapter 27

I stood in front of a modest, ticky tack house in a modest ticky tack neighborhood where all the lawns were well-manicured and all the bushes were meticulously trimmed. It hadn’t taken me long to get here. Apparently, Duane was able to summon a driver on his phone who arrived all of ten minutes later. So there I was, not a half hour after meeting Death himself, standing in front of the address he’d given me.

Its stone facade seemed cheap, making me think the builders of this particular neighborhood had wanted to differentiate their three different models in the least expensive way possible. This was made more obvious by the brick facade sported by the houses on either side of the one indicated by the address I’d gotten from Death.

One of the lights on the outside of the garage was shining brightly with all its LED induced intensity, while its compatriot was dark, making me wonder whether it had burned out or if the illuminated one had a bad photo sensor and was supposed to shut off automatically. It was a little disconcerting because it spoke of neglect, but I tried to tell myself people delayed fixing things all the time. As it stood, the lights were probably last on a very long “honey do” list.

More worrisome was the green garbage can was still out in front of the sidewalk. It was the only trashcan not up by its house. Why hadn’t this one been put away? It didn’t bode well. As I approached the tall black front door, I took a deep breath to calm myself. There was no use freaking out now. Doing so wouldn’t help me at all. I was Mac Brennan, and it was time to man the fuck up.

I rang the doorbell, ignoring the note taped on top of it saying to please not ring the doorbell and waited. I glanced around nervously, hypersensitive a neighbor would find my presence here just after sunrise disconcerting and do something stupid like call the cops, or even worse, try to talk to me. I rang again and followed with a loud knock. No response.

After what felt like forever, I tried the door knob. It twisted easily. That probably wasn’t good. Even though everything inside me was screaming it was a horrible idea, I pushed open the door and when I didn’t hear the sound of an alarm beeping, peered inside. I hadn’t really expected an alarm since I hadn’t seen a sign posted out in front of the house warning me, but the lack of one made me feel slightly better.

The next thing I noticed was the smell, like week old garbage. It hit me full in the face, and I flinched backward, instantly brought back to my horrific nap in the dumpster yesterday. It was hard to believe that had only been yesterday. It seemed like it’d happened a lifetime ago.

“Hello?” I called through the threshold. There was no response. “Hello?” I called again, louder this time. The result was the same. Apprehension began to prickle along the back of my neck, and I rubbed it as I tried to figure out what to do. Could I just walk inside? No doubt someone would call the police if they saw a strange person just walk inside but then again, maybe not. This seemed like the type of neighborhood where the neighbors didn’t get together for block parties. Most of them probably hadn’t even met each other.

I sighed and stuck my head inside, but all I could see was the narrow line of the entryway and a splash of hallway wall. This place was deserted. That left one ominous question. Why would someone leave a house and not lock it up? Especially if they’d been gone for such a significant length of time that the trashcan had neglected to be put away?

Against my better judgment, I stepped through the door and onto the white and gray marble floor. I swept my gaze right and left. Right led to a series of closed doors, likely bedrooms and bathrooms. Left led to what looked like a family room. I went left. The last thing I wanted to do was burst in on someone changing. What would I say? “Oh, Death appeared on his pale horse and sent me to make sure you remembered to wear clean underwear?” Yeah, that’d go over
real
well.

I resisted the urge to draw the Desert Eagle still tucked into my pants even though a small voice in the back of my head urged me to clear the room with military precision. Instead, I slowly poked my head around the corner and did a quick scan of the room.

A coffee table with cherry finish. Beige leather couches. An end table matching the coffee table with a small beige lamp sitting atop it. No people.

I released a breath I hadn’t known I’d been holding and stepped out into the room. My foot crunched on something, and I looked to see I’d stepped on a plastic toy. A green tyrannosaurus rex.

A jolt of memory exploded through my brain. I had the tiny dinosaur in my hand, only my hand wasn’t blacker than the hair of Satan’s ass. I was offering the toy to someone in front of me, someone I couldn’t quite picture. I strained, trying to force the details into being, but as I did, everything slipped through my fingers until I was left staring at the dinosaur beneath my shoe once again.

Fear gripped me as I snapped back to reality. I knew whoever had lived here well enough to have given the dinosaur to them as a gift. The thought made my blood run cold.

“Hello?” I cried much louder than before, but the only response was deafening silence. Panic swelled up inside me as I hurried through the room and pushed through a door along the far wall. It opened into a kitchen with granite counters and professional looking stainless steel appliances. No people again, but judging by the smell, the trashcan was somewhere in here. I didn’t stay long enough to confirm.

The next room was the dining room, complete with a bar height oak table and chairs. A china cabinet stood along the far wall, displaying a set of dishes that looked expensive. The floor was covered by that tile meant to look like wood. Also expensive. The type of expensive that was too expensive to be in a house like this. Something was definitely off.

I drew my gun, not caring if I scared someone. I shoved my way through the door on the other side of the dining room. Another room done in the same tile greeted me. An enormous black television was immediately visible mounted to the far wall situated between foot tall marble statues of the Justice League and the Avengers respectively. I swung my gaze and my gun around as I stepped into the room. My heart leapt into my throat.