Seized: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Thrice Cursed Mage Book 4) (11 page)

“Is that a fucking bone dragon?” Jenna asked, her eyes wide with shock. Her hands shook so hard as she pointed her gun at the creature, I wasn’t sure she’d even be able to hit it.

“I think you’re going to need a bigger gun,” I said, getting to my feet and grabbing a femur from something that had once been huge. It seemed like such an inadequate weapon, I nearly dropped it in disgust, but then again, Luke had used bones to defeat the rancor. I just needed to wait until it stepped under a heavy gate.

The dragon snorted a gout of blue flame and bent its monstrous head toward us. “You smell like you’ll make a fine edition to my garden.”

“Pass,” I said, holding up my fist and calling upon my magic. My tattoos lit up, casting crimson shadows across the ground between us as I got ready to fling Hellfire at the monster.

“Fail,” the dragon replied, opening its toothy maw and inhaling. My vision went spotty as something inside me snapped and broke. My magic came rushing out of me, slipping through my blackened fingers like sand and heading toward the creature’s waiting mouth.

The beast slurped up my power like it was eating spaghetti, and as it did, I stumbled and fell to my knees. I managed to catch myself with my hands before I crashed face first into the ground, but it was a near thing. My stomach lurched into my throat as nausea overtook me. Everything inside my belly came rushing out in a torrent that left me dry heaving on the dirt wracked by shivers.

The dragon took another step toward us, and as everything faded to inky blackness, I tried to raise my right arm to defend myself. There was just one problem with that. My tattoos and black skin were gone. My arm was completely normal.

Chapter 12

Something warm and gooey splashed across my face. As my eyes fluttered open, I found myself staring into the enormous Nurse Ratchet bosom of the nun looming over me. She grinned at me, revealing a mouth full of sharpened teeth and the ragged edges of her tongue before pursing her lips and allowing a gob of saliva to fall and splatter on my cheek.

“Mm ungh, nur,” she said, sucking on her thumb before reaching out and shoving it into my ear. She cackled ominously as I tried to throttle her, but it was no use, the leather straps holding me down on the cold metal table were too tight and too strong for my struggles to do any good.

“Mac, are you awake?” Jenna called from a few feet away, and as I tried to turn and look in the direction of her voice, I found I could barely move my head. Something was keeping my head pointed toward the ceiling so all I could make out were the gray stone slabs overhead.

“I guess you could call my current state awake, but I’m pretty sure I’m going to wake up any second and find myself in my bed,” I said, staring up at orange flames dancing across the ceiling and casting flickering shadows about the room and tried not to panic. I wasn’t sure where we were, but one thing was certain. Wherever it was, we were trapped here, and that did not bode well.

The nun moved away so I could just barely see her out of the corner of my eyes if I strained enough. She plopped down in a pink beach chair in the corner before propping her bare feet up on my knees and pulling out a book with a cover I couldn’t discern. Well, it was just as well, knowing what she read wouldn’t help me in the slightest.

I had no idea how I’d gotten here following the rise of the bone dragon, nor where I was. Part of me wondered if I was still in Hell. If I was, would that be a positive or negative situation? I shook the thought away, it didn’t matter. What mattered was getting out. Fortunately, I had magic for that.

“Resero,” I whispered, calling upon my power, and as the word left my mouth, dynamite exploded inside my brain. My vision swam as I struggled to suck in a breath that hit my lungs like battery acid.

“Mac, are you okay?” Jenna called, and I could barely hear her because it felt like someone had jammed a twelve-inch hunting knife into each of my temples. Warm, sticky fluid began to drip down my face. Was I bleeding or was the nun dropping loogies on me again?

“Shng nug, hthy,” the nun clucked, glancing at me from over the top of her book. Then she licked her finger and turned the page. Well, unless she had magic spitting powers that meant blood was dripping down my face. That always boded well.

“Something’s wrong. I can’t use my magic,” I whispered. The words tore out of me like shrapnel and broken glass.

Until this moment I hadn’t realized how much I had begun to rely on my magic. Hell, when I had started this mission, I had gone in guns blazing, and now I didn’t even have a gun. I’d confronted most of the things around me lacking one, and worse still, I didn’t have any other equipment, like a lock picking kit, or even a fucking bobby pin and a credit card. I just assumed I’d be able to unlock anything with my magic and blow threats away. Well, clearly that strategy was fucked. Once this was over, I was going to go back to keeping a kit filled with the basics on me at all times.

“Yeah, that’s what the dragon said after he dropped you like a bad habit, but I figured it wasn’t a big deal because you were Mac Brennan.” Jenna swallowed hard. “You always expect the unexpected.”

“Well, not this fucking unexpected,” I snarled, suddenly pissed off at her. “I don’t know where we are, and I’m tied to a table—”

“Nng!” the nun growled, leaping to her feet. She waved her book at me and made a “zipping her lip” motion.

“What was that? I can’t hear you with all the mumbling,” I snapped, pissed off at my own inability to move, but as soon as I said it, I wished I hadn’t because it’s always a bad idea to piss someone off when you’re tied up like a goddamned invalid.

All the color drained from her winkled face and her eyes got so narrow, I wasn’t sure she could actually see me. She slid a cotton candy pink bookmark into her book and set it down very carefully on the table before moving across the room and out of my frame of vision. There was a scraping sound as something got dragged across the floor. The nun appeared back in my sights holding a pair of jumper cables. She touched the two copper clamps together, and they cracked with electricity.

She raised an eyebrow as if to say, “go on, motherfucker. Say another word, I double dog dare you.”

I shut my goddamned mouth, and she nodded briskly before putting the cables down next to me and patting them lightly. She returned to her chair and began to read once again. Well, this was just perfect.

To be honest, I wasn’t sure how long we waited there in silence when the sound of footsteps filled my ears. The nun must have heard them too because she looked up, dropped her feet off my knee and onto the floor, and went back to reading. Still, from the way her shoulders stiffened, it reminded me of a cubicle worker when his boss decided to stroll “casually” by.

“Why if it isn’t Mac Brennan,” said a high-pitched male voice so close to my ear, I could feel his icy breath prickle my skin. “It’s a pleasure to meet your acquaintance.” The sound of him padding away was loud in the silence of the room too. “And you too, Jenna Carmichael.”

“Who are you?” Jenna asked, and the amount of steel in her voice was surprising. I turned to look out of habit and found myself barely able to glimpse a slender man about seven feet tall dressed from shoes to top hat in solid white. He leaned over Jenna as he spoke, one boney finger lightly rubbing the back of her strapped-down hand.

“I am Sepulture,” he said, standing back up. “Don’t you recognize me?”

“You were a bone dragon,” Jenna said, and he began to laugh.

“My dear, there’s no such thing as dragons. That was merely a monster I created with my mind.” He tapped the side of his head with his index finger before moving back a step or two so he could look at us both. He had a gaunt, pasty face, making me think of a clothing store mannequin wearing a bone-white Richard Nixon Halloween mask. “That’s neither here nor there, though. What is important is that I also have another name. Do you know what that is?”

“Douchebag?” I offered, and he lowered his white sunglasses and glared at me with the empty puckered black pits where his eyes should have been. The sight of the ragged holes in his face made my stomach clench in sudden, inexplicable hysteria, but I fought it down. Barely.

“They call me the love doctor,” he said, drawing out the word love like a radio talk show host. “See, Beleth can’t touch people who are in love, and she very much wants to touch the two of you.” He raised his hands as if to say “what are you going to do?”

“Jenna, you’re in love too?” I asked, wondering who she might be in love with. I swallowed hard. Was it me? I really hoped not, but if I had to go back and replay all of our interactions, I knew there had to be a chance, and it wasn’t exactly small.

“Yes, is that so hard to believe, Mac?” she snapped, glaring at me. “Is it really?”

It wasn’t really, but I didn’t say that. I couldn’t say that. I mean, here was this woman who was probably in love with me and I’d totally fucking forgotten her. Worse still? I had a girlfriend who I loved enough to be able to thwart Beleth’s charms. Even if I wanted to try and figure it out with Jenna, I couldn’t because of Ricky. It sucked, and at the moment, there was nothing I could do to comfort Jenna either because she didn’t even know I’d lost my memories.

“Anyway,” Sepulture said, sliding between us. He sat down on the table holding Jenna and drummed his fingers on her torso. As he did it, he stared at me with his empty eye sockets and licked his lips. “I’m here to fix Beleth’s problem. See, when I’m through with the two of you, well, being in love won’t be an issue.” He rubbed his hands together. “Ready to get started?”

“How can you break a bond of love?” I asked, and the tremor in my voice scared me as much as the thought that Beleth employed someone to crush her victims’ love. Still, I wasn’t quite sure how it was possible, and even if it was, would it even work? After all, I had that whole imprint thing going on. Whatever Ricky and I had, it was definitely fueled by supernatural mojo.

“Oh, it’s easier than you think,” Sepulture said, hopping to his feet. “First, I take this towel.” He whipped out his empty hand like a stage magician, and as he did, a towel appeared in it. “I place it over your face like so.” He covered my face with the towel. “Then I pour water over you to simulate drowning. That’s a very important word, simulate. Everything I do here is strictly aboveboard, and I would hate for people to think otherwise.” Then he started waterboarding me, cutting off my air supply.

I tried to breathe, tried to claw at the towel and pull it off my face as my lungs began to burn. I couldn’t, it was impossible as water seeped through the towel and into my nose and mouth, cutting off my ability to draw even a single breath. I strained, bucking against the table as a scream tried to tear from my throat, only it couldn’t because you need breath to scream.

“You might be wondering why I’m doing this to you, Mac, and I’m going to take a page out of every James Bond Villain’s playbook ever and tell you my diabolical plan.” He paused to refill his water bucket before pouring it slowly over my face. Panic leapt through me as I struggled to breathe through my drenched nose and mouth, but try as I might, I couldn’t. I tried to struggle, but all that succeeded in doing was bruising my arms and legs against the straps.

“See, this isn’t for you, Mac.” He stopped pouring, and I tried to suck in a breath. Despite not being actively drowned, it was still hard to do. “It’s for Miss Carmichael. She cares for you a great deal. I mean, you don’t remember because you have no memory, but it’s true, nonetheless.”

As the words left Sepulture’s mouth, the horrible realization that my big secret was out and the chickens were about to come home to roost flickered through my torture-addled brain. It was like the icing on a torture cake, and to be honest, I was good without the cake entirely.

“What?” Jenna said and confusion filled her voice. “What do you mean he can’t remember?”

“Oh, my poor dear. You didn’t know? Mac lost all his memories.” He made a “tsking” sound. “That’s why he doesn’t remember you even a lick. It’s too bad, so sad. Unfortunately, you remember him, don’t you, Jenna?” He dumped more water across my face, and a fresh wave of hysteria crashed over me. I jerked at the restraints so hard my muscles hurt with the effort. “Why would he forget you even existed? Well, it’s simple. Mac traded away all his memories for that arm. Willingly.” He snatched the towel roughly off my face and leaned his elbows on my chest. “Tell her, Mac. Tell her the truth.”

“Mac, what’s he talking about?” Jenna asked, and the quiver in her voice nearly broke me. Then again, that could have been because I was still reeling from the simulated drowning.

“Go on, Mac,” Sepulture said, leaning in close to me and grinning. “Tell her the truth.”

“I traded my soul for my arm. The memory thing was a side effect.” I swallowed hard. “I wasn’t supposed to forget everything.” I took a deep breath and even though I really hoped I was wrong about Sepulture’s game plan, added the next sentence just in case I was right. “I wasn’t supposed to forget you, Jenna.”

The scream that tore from her lips was like a wounded animal. It ripped me down the center like I was a cardboard cutout. It left me raw and rubbed lemon on my wounds, which was exactly when the towel dropped back over my face. Water followed, and as I struggled to breathe through the torrent, the only thing I could hear was the sound of Jenna’s sobs. To be honest, I wasn’t sure how I heard them over my own gagging and the endless stream of water, but I did, and it was like a knife twisted in my gut.

“How could you do that, Mac? You promised me always and forever.” I heard her strain at her bindings. “You promised!”

“He lied,” Sepulture said, and the smile in his voice made me shiver down to the tips of my toes. “Now, what do you want to do about it?”

“What?” she asked, the word a screech of agony as I struggled to breathe before my torturer could resume waterboarding me.

“What indeed?” Sepulture said, and I heard him walk away. I strained, trying to see through the towel pressed over my eyes, but I couldn’t see anything but darkness. “Perhaps you’d like a try a bucket? You know, just to test the waters as it were?”