Cursed: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Thrice Cursed Mage Book 1) (9 page)

“Goddamn it!” I snarled, still staring into the wreckage as the sound of sirens filled my ears. They were far away still, far enough away that I knew I could disappear long before they showed up. Not that I needed to escape them. All they’d do is look at me, take down my name, and send me on my way.

“I don’t have time for this,” I growled to myself and forced myself to take a step away from the bar. I followed it with another. It was time to leave and sort out my problems on my own. No matter how nice she’d been to me, I couldn’t waste time going after her right now.

Still, the idea of leaving Sera in the hands of that other Cursed irked me, and not just because she was a woman with a young child, a woman that had helped me even though she didn’t have to do anything. No, it was because I wondered what would have happened if I had walked out of the laundromat to look for my wallet instead of going with her. Would she have stayed home with her son and avoided this whole mess? Would she be sitting at home right now safe and sound? Or would those bastards have taken her to meet the mysterious Ricky anyway? Would they have taken her away from her child?

My breath caught in my throat as a memory exploded across my vision. In my mind’s eye, I watched a small boy about four years old being jerked away from a house. His tiny hands gripped at the doorway as he screamed and shouted for me to help him. Blood was spattered across his white T-shirt, and he struggled vainly, but he was no match for the muscle-bound behemoth dragging him away.

The guy, if you could call someone nearly eight feet tall with stitches, staples, and bolts barely holding his rotting flesh together a guy, curled one huge hand into a fist. He drove that fist into the boy’s stomach, knocking the wind from him. The kid’s face clenched in pain as his fingers released the doorframe. He was tugged free.

His mother was already in the back of a black SUV with tinted windows. She was tied up and beaten into a pulp. Her blonde hair was streaked with blood, and the right side of her face was swollen and bruised.

The giant traversed the lawn in quick steps, crossing paths with a short, squat man dressed in one of those pinstripe suits like straight out of an Al Capone gangster movie. He pulled his thick cigar from his lips with a hand the color of charcoal and exhaled a blast of smoke into my face. I tried to make out any discernible feature, but his face was a blur of color.

“Finish the job I paid you to do, or I kill them both.” The man’s voice ripped across my brain like barbed wire and snake venom. I didn’t know who he was, but I knew I would kill him and save the boy and his mother. I knew this right up until his expensive Italian leather shoe came crashing down on my face.

The memory vanished as quickly as it came, leaving me standing there in the too bright sunlight. I gulped. That was why I’d sold my soul. I’d done it to save that boy and his mother. I had to save them. It resonated deep within me with such urgency, I could barely think past it. Who knew how much time I had left? Hell, for all I knew, they were already dead. As that ugly thought filled my brain, I knew it wasn’t true. I still had time. Maybe not much, but some.

Time enough to save Sera and reunite her with her child. I could do it, but doing so would cost me time I might wish I had later. I might save Sera at the cost of that other woman and her child. Even though I couldn’t remember who they were, something told me saving Sera might be worth the risk.

So far, Sera had given me every answer I currently had. If I went after her, perhaps I could pick up some more answers along the way. If I left now, my only plan of action was to check the alley for my wallet. If that failed, I would be lost and on my own with no one to help me through this monster-infested supernatural world. Then I’d be stuck coming back here and begging her friends for help, assuming I could even find them then.

I began walking faster than before. I wasn’t going to waste any more time. Sera didn’t matter. Her son didn’t matter. I’d go back to the laundromat and start searching from there. Surely, I’d pick up on a clue. Sera would just have to get herself out of her jam on her own, and if she didn’t, well that wasn’t my problem. Only she had a kid, and I’d sold my soul to save one just like him. What if those cultists went after Sera’s son John anyway? What if they needed to use him as collateral because she didn’t give them what they wanted? What if she didn’t have what they wanted? Men like that weren’t known to be swayed by things like truth and logic.

A vision of Sera’s body lying bloody and broken at the feet of the Asian Cursed filled me. I could almost see him wiping his hands on a bloody rag, could almost hear him whispering, “Well, if she knew where it was, she’d have talked, but she didn’t. Too bad.”

I stopped and gritted my teeth. Nearly everything in me was screaming at me to go, to ignore Sera’s plight, to use this time to save the people from my memory. But I couldn’t do that. Not if it meant John could get hurt, and if the guy I’d seen in the bar was any indication, he wasn’t messing around.

And, even though I shouldn’t have done it, like Lot’s wife, I turned and looked back. Thankfully, I didn’t turn to salt, but I might as well have because I could feel everything inside me screaming at me to go, to leave and never turn back. The sirens were so loud now, I knew I had only a minute or two. Now was my chance to leave. But I couldn’t. I wasn’t sure if the old Mac would have left Sera and her son to their fate, but I couldn’t do it.

“Why?” I screamed, looking up at the sky. “Why is this happening now?”

“Because,” came the voice on the wind. “Because…”

I looked toward the sound, but there was no one there. The only thing in front of me was the burned out bar. Against everything in me, I walked back toward it. Hopefully, Duane and the vampire would know where to find Sera. It would cost time, but I had to try to save her. Not because of what she’d done for me. No, I was going to do it for her son. I wasn’t sure what had happened to his father, but there was one thing I knew for certain. No child deserved to have his mother taken away.

Chapter 11

“Where do I find Ricky?” I asked, my voice hard and flat as I stepped back into the inside the burned out husk of the bar to see the vampire kneeling next to Duane, a look of dismay on his features.

“Why do you want to find Ricky?” the Indian vampire replied as he scooped up Duane’s unconscious body with no more effort than it’d take to lift a napkin. He threw the unconscious senior over one shoulder and stood before heading toward what remained of the door.

“You guys said earlier that Ricky was in charge of the werewolves, and the werewolves were trying to capture Sera.” I gestured at the dead cult members. “I’m not going to begin to try to understand that cluster, but I’m sure the guy who took her is connected to the werewolves. If that is true, I can go through the wolves to get Sera back.”

The vampire stopped and spun on his heel. The movement was so quick, it was more like he was just turned around. Sunlight cascaded through the room, shrouding him in shadow. His dark eyes burned into mine, and I got the distinct impression of a great white shark swimming through the proverbial water trying to decide if I’d taste good. “Why do you care, son? You haven’t known Sera for more than a few minutes. I’ve known her quite a bit longer, and I’m still not sure I want to risk the wrath of a werewolf pack to get her back.”

I gritted my teeth, barely resisting the urge to grab him by the throat and throttle him. Why wouldn’t he just tell me? Did it matter why I was willing to help her? As that thought filled my brain, I stopped. Maybe Sera didn’t mean anything to him. I’d assumed they were friends based on his defense of the place and their friendly banter, but maybe I was wrong. Sure she was a girl and was in trouble, but he was right. I’d just met her. Why was I going to go take on werewolves and a death cult to get her back when the smart play was to shove my hands in my pockets and walk away whistling?

“Because she has a son, and he needs his mother,” I said, my voice returning to that deep dark place.

The vampire studied me for a long while, and I got the distinct feeling he was seeing more than he let on. I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad because something about the look he gave me was definitely off. I tried to think about it, to reach back into my mind for a hint as to what his expression might mean, but it was like reaching into a blazing fire filled with rage. Maybe I was using Sera and her child as a stand in for the girl and child I really needed to save, but even if that was true, that didn’t make their plight any less real.

The vampire stared at me for a moment longer before nodding. He let out a slow breath. “Well, in that case, I won’t stop you.” He stepped aside and gestured for me to pass into the sunlight. “But be warned, the guy who took Sera isn’t working for the werewolves. They are working for him. As far as the local wolf pack is concerned, helping us amounts to treason. Even if that wasn’t the case, getting Ricky to help us won’t be easy. The wolves don’t like outsiders, no matter how nicely they ask.”

“It’s a good thing I’m not very polite.” I moved past him into the sunlight, and as I did so, the vampire followed me.

The smell of burning flesh hit my nostrils, and I spun to see his flesh smolder like he was getting a terrible sunburn. He cursed under his breath and reached under his shirt. He pulled out a cloudy ruby emblazoned with gold filigree. When the sunlight struck the gemstone, it turned a sickly gray color. Like magic, the vampire’s skin went back to normal, and the smell of burning flesh faded from the air like it’d never been there at all.

“Neat trick,” I said, pointedly shifting my gaze to the gemstone before returning it to his face.

“Can’t go out in direct sunlight without it,” he said, catching my eye and giving me a wink. “Otherwise I’ll sparkle like a bonfire.”

“Good to know,” I replied as he caught sight of the wrecked vehicles and let out a low whistle.

“If you want to avoid doing something like that again,” the vampire waved his free hand at the decimated parking lot, “You’d better get a handle on your powers right quick.” Without another word, he led me around the corner and stopped in front of one of those old nineteen fifties white ford pickups. He dumped Duane in the bed of the truck next to several bags of topsoil. Without a word, he ripped open the top bag, spilling dark, fertile earth over the old man.

“What are you doing? Shouldn’t we get him to a hospital?” I asked as the vampire finished burying the senior and unlocked the front door.

“Duane’s a druid. Give him a few minutes in the dirt and he’ll be as good as normal.” The vampire slid into the car and gestured at the sky. “Especially with all this sunlight.” He made a face. “It does wonders for some of us.”

“And being covered in bargain brand soil is going to do that how?” I asked, but even as I stared at Duane, I could see color starting to return to his features.

“No, he’s not hurt in the traditional sense. Vassago’s Cursed just sucked the mojo out of him. He just needs to recharge a bit.” The vampire grinned. “That stuff won’t work as well as the premium stuff, but I’ll be damned if I’ll keep expensive soil in the back of my truck for any yahoo to just take.”

“Good to know, I guess,” I said as the vampire reached over and unlocked the passenger door. “What’s a druid?”

“A druid is a like a crazy hippy who actually draws magical powers from the earth. Duane is an oak druid specifically. Now get in. Ricky is across town, and I want to be out of here before the cops turn my place into a zoo. If we don’t miss them, they’ll want to ask me all sorts of questions.” The vampire stuck the key into the ignition as he spoke, not bothering with his seatbelt. Then again, I wasn’t even sure if the truck had seatbelts. “I’m guessing we don’t have time to spend the next several hours answering the same questions over and over again.”

Since he had an excellent point, I moved around the car to get in. I had just yanked the door open when the vampire started pulling away from the curb. Apparently, he was leaving with or without me. I staunched my fear at leaping into a moving vehicle and jumped inside. I landed on the red vinyl seat as the vampire threw the coughing truck into gear. We lurched forward with a shudder that rattled every part of the old beast before driving away from the smoking crater of Jack’s.

“Wait, your place?” I asked as I played his words over in my mind.

“Yeah, I’m Jack.” He tossed me a wry smile. “And before you ask, yes, I’m coming with you. Not for whatever noble reason you’ve cooked up though. I need to make a point. My bar is supposed to be off limits to supernatural hijinks. That’s the whole point of it being neutral ground. If I let people just waltz in and blow the place up, well, that puts a damper on the whole safe haven thing. For me, it’s a matter of principle. One that Cursed seems to have forgotten.”

“So the only reason you’re going to help me save Sera is because those guys messed up your bar?” I asked and I must have let the surprise leak into my voice because Jack laughed.

“Well, that and because I need to make the wolves chip in for repairs.” He let out a sigh. “The deductible for a gas line explosion like that is going to be a bitch, and somehow, I bet I’ll get saddled with the whole thing.”

“Gas line explosion?” I said, feeling numb as I glanced back over my shoulder to watch the black smoke curl into the sky above Jack’s. “There was a huge tanker truck. Should be easy to prove it wasn’t your fault.”

“You make an excellent point,” Jack said, and I caught a hint of laughter in his voice. “Guess I’m just used to taking the fall for people doing stupid shit in my bar. It’s why I keep the place the way it is. Jack’s may not be the most comfortable place in town, but most people don’t have to clean up after slime demons.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, trying to imagine what a slime demon looked like but found myself only picturing Slimer from Ghost Busters. Big, green, and disgusting. As far as mental images went, it’d have to do.

“You do that,” he replied with a shrug. “The Spartan look grows on you after a while, mostly because it really cuts down on cleaning. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to the whole industrial warehouse look, but what can I say, I’m adaptable. I know it’s supposed to bring a tear to my eye being that I’m an Indian and all, but ever since that Ent held me up in the middle of the black forest and demanded my wallet at knife point, I’ve found I’m quite fond of the antiseptic, nature is dead vibe.”