twice cursed mage 05 - claimed (23 page)

The gun fired right next to my face and the flash and heat of it made me cry out. Still as the bullet flew past me and into the elevator shaft, I brought my elbow around and smashed it into his ribs. He stumbled backward a couple paces, and as he did, I threw myself on top of him.

My shoulder crashed into his chest and we collapsed into a tangled heap. His gun fired again, missing my shoulder by inches as we landed hard on the floor. I reared back to deck him across the face, but a gargoyle chose that moment to bound through the wall. Its foot connected sharply with my exposed ribs and an audible snap filled my ears.

Agony exploded across my nerve endings in a wash of acidic pain as I was lifted from my perch atop Sargent and flew sideways into the drywall. It cracked under the force of my impact, and I rebounded off of it as my vision splintered into a darkened haze.

“Fucking gargoyles,” Sargent said, getting to his feet as the behemoth statue lumbered toward me, massive stone hands clenching and unclenching. “I had him right where I wanted him.”

“Guess only one of us is honorable, eh?” I spat, and blood spattered across the ground in front of me.

“The fuck you say?” Sargent snapped, glaring at the gargoyle. Then he pulled off his Stetson and smacked the living statue with it. “Go on, git. This is a personal matter, and I will not have my honor besmirched by a two-ton idjit with rocks for brains.”

The gargoyle regarded him in a way that suggested it didn’t understand what Sargent was saying, which was probably why he put the revolver to the creature’s stony face and fired. The bullet blew a hole the size of a softball in the spot where its left eye had been. The creature cried out and lashed out at Sargent with one hand.

The big Texan ducked and planted his size eleven cowboy boot on its chest with enough force to shatter the creature’s stone skin. As the Gargoyle tumbled backward onto the ground, its wings shattered under the impact of its bulk. A scream of agony shook the halls as Sargent shook his head and put his hat back on his head.

“How many of those hats do you have?” I asked as I wiped the blood from my hand with the back of the other hand.

“I always bring two of everything.” He smirked at me. “You know the saying. ‘Two is one and one is none.’ It goes double for hats and belt buckles.”

“So you have four then,” I replied, pushing myself to my feet. The floor wobbled under me, but that was likely due to the thrashing gargoyle. Fortunately, the creature’s flailing had the added effect of blocking the passage from more of the creatures. They stood just beyond it staring at us with cold, stone eyes.

“Anyone ever tell you that you talk too damned much?” Sargent asked, regarding me carefully.

“Once or twice,” I admitted, bringing my hands up in front of me. “Let’s get this on.”

“Nah,” he spat off to the side. “I only bareknuckle box when my hands are dipped in glass.” A smile quirked across his lips as he raised his revolver. “You understand.”

“I feel like you’re fucking with me,” I replied, shaking my head because I’d told Maya’s dad the same thing when we’d fought. Had he been there? It was an interesting thought but made no sense. If he’d been there, why hadn’t he interfered?

“Let’s just say Jun and his wife weren’t my favorite couple and leave it at that.” Sargent gave me a knowing smile and cocked the hammer back on his colt, but this time he kept a foot between it and me so I wouldn’t be able to dodge so easily. “Truth be told, you saved me the trouble.”

“Yeah, about that,” I said, raising my hands up in front of me in surrender. “Tueri!”

He fired as Hellfire blazed outward around me. The bullet smacked into the center of my forehead, snapping my head back, and even though I was covered in an impenetrable shield, I collapsed backward against the cracked drywall. Flame licked up the walls in an instant, engulfing the hallway in a blaze as Sargent backed up a couple paces and eyed me down the sight of his revolver.

As I scrambled to my feet, the big Texan cracked open the revolver and dumped the cartridges to the ground. “Got something right special for your magic, Mac.” He pulled six, black as night, bullets from his pocket and began slotting them into the gun. I wasn’t sure what they were exactly, but I could feel cold rising off them even from a couple feet away. Mist wafted off of them, and while I wasn’t sure how badly they would hurt me, I suddenly very much did not want to pit my magic against it.

So what did I do? I tackled him because, hey, it worked the first time. I hit him in the abdomen with my best Goldberg spear. The revolver slipped from his hand as we crashed backward onto the cement floor. His head rebounded off the ground as flame licked across his clothing. Not that it stopped him. Sargent lashed out at me with one meaty fist. It caught me under the chin as I tried to rise and sent me toppling onto my back.

He was on his feet before me, and as I got to my own feet, he decked me in the jaw. My vision went spotty as I crashed into the drywall. Fire licked up across its surface, but I ignored it as I pushed myself back to my feet.

I almost wished I hadn’t because as soon as I did, he kicked me in the chest. Now I knew why the gargoyle had broken because it hurt more than I could have imagined, and I’d been shot in the head by a sniper rifle. Man, I needed a new, pain-proof shield, stat.

As I crashed back into the wall of flames behind me, the drywall shattered, and I found myself lying on my back. Thankfully, the stone beneath me broke my fall.

“You know, for being Big Billy Bad Ass, you sure spend a lot of time on your back,” Sargent said as he stepped through the hole I’d made in the wall.

“Hey, you know, it works for your mom,” I said as I pushed myself to a standing position. It was harder than it should have been and I was covered by a shield.

“Are you implying my mom spends a lot of time on her back because she has sex with everyone?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

“No. She’s a very classy lady,” I replied sarcastically, reaching out my hand toward him and making the “bring it” gesture.

Sargent smiled, and the twinkle in his eyes let me know it was real. So Yosemite Sam thought I was funny. Life was complete. “She is at that.”

“Necto!” I said by way of reply. A tendril of flame leapt from my outstretched hand and seized hold of the ceiling tiles above his head, and just like I expected, the tentacle pulled them free of the decayed roof. They came crashing down on Sargent, burying him beneath a pile of debris.

Before he could escape, I shut my eyes and called upon my power. It rose up inside me like a tidal wave and my tattoos went nuclear. Scarlet light danced across the darkened room as I splayed my fingers at the pile of debris on top of him. “Ignis!”

As I said the word, the shield blazing around my body was sucked out through my body and burst from my fingers as a sphere of Hellfire the size of a beach ball. It crashed into the debris like a fucking meteor and exploded with enough force to throw me backward. I hit the ground hard as flame engulfed the entire front half of the room. Beams spit and cracked as flames roiled across every surface.

I sucked in a quick breath that seared my lungs from all the acrid smoke, and as I did, a shape rose from the fire. Sargent stepped forth from the blaze. Flames danced along what was left of his charred, blackened clothing, but otherwise he seemed no worse for wear. He stood bare-chested in front of me and rubbed his chin.

“You know the thing about fire and magic?” he asked, crossing the distance between us in a couple quick steps. “It’s for fuckin’ pussies.” He slapped me hard across the face. The movement so quick I could barely follow it. “Are you a fuckin’ pussy, Mac?”

His words pissed me off because I’d heard similar things before. It was just trash talk, sure, but it still rubbed me the wrong way. When you’re in a fight, you should do everything in your power to win. If you held back because of some stupid imagined line, well, you would lose, and as I had that realization, I realized I knew how to beat him.

As I stood back up, I spat a gob of blood in his eyes. He cried out in shock, reaching up to rub the bloody saliva from his eyes. As he did, I grabbed him around the throat with my hand. It was barely black at all and most of my tattoos were the color of ash, but that was fine. I was due for a recharge anyway.

“If you don’t like magic, take it up with my demon,” I snapped. “Sorbeo!”

Power eerily similar to Asmodai’s own, leapt from his flesh and into me. It ripped through me, galvanizing my blood into pure fucking adrenaline. My eyes shot open in pain and a cry tore from my lips as every capillary inside me burst. Sargent, reached out and grabbed ahold of my wrist. His grip was like a vice as more and more of his power surged into me like a freight train dangerously close to running off the rails.

“I’ve got way more than you can take, little man,” he said, pulling us closer together. As his bare chest sandwiched my demonic arm between us and more power tore though me. My skin began to blacken and smoke as a furnace roared to life inside me. Unfortunately, this furnace was going to take me along with it.

“Is that all you’ve got,” I snapped, grinding my teeth together. My tattoos were so bright, it was nearly blinding.

“No.” The pained smile on his lips let me know one thing. He was telling the truth. “If you want more. Take it.”

So I did.

I pulled with everything in me because I didn’t care what happened to me. I can’t say why because I’m normally all about self-preservation, but at that moment, I just wanted him dead. He’d fucking trounced me at every possible turn, and this time? This time, I wouldn’t let him win.

I ground my teeth together, shut my eyes, and called out to the magic coursing between us. The raging storm of power within Sargent was like nothing I’d ever felt before, and as it crashed into me, I realized something. I was being stupid, but more than that, so was he. I mean, after all, he was right. I couldn’t hope to contain the surge of power rushing into me.

But I didn’t have to contain it.

“It’s been fun,” I said as my eyes opened, and I stared into the depths of his cold gray eyes. “But I’ve got an ex-girlfriend to catch.” A grin spread across my face, and as it did, a shadow very similar to fear swam through Sargent’s eyes. “Tueri.”

The power roiling between us turned into a blaze of Hellfire that erupted all around us. His scream scalded my ears as the fire surrounding me leapt hotter and brighter than ever before. The ground beneath my feet melted to magma and the walls twenty feet away burned to ash. The whole of the building exploded into an inferno.

Sargent’s power whipped through me, surging into the blaze like gasoline thrown on hot coals, and once that happened, my spell wanted more. It wanted all it could take. It burned, taking Sargent right along with hit. His skin blackened before flaking away into ash as he tried to pull away, but even though he struggled, my grip kept him locked in place.

As Sargent collapsed to his knees in front of me, I leaned in close to him. I wasn’t sure if he could hear me, what with the whole funeral pyre thing he had going on, but that was just as well. “Goodbye, Sargent. I’d say it’s been fun, but well, it hasn’t.” I smirked. “And you’re a dick.”

Chapter 28

I couldn’t tell you why, but walking away from Sargent’s burning corpse didn’t exactly make me feel good about myself or my life choices. Part of it was that I sort of respected the guy, though I couldn’t have told you why. Maybe it was because he’d been honorable in his way. Still, that wasn’t quite why. It had more to do with the fact that he’d died on the floor of an abandoned building far from home, doing a job he didn’t particularly seem to like.

It was easy to see the parallels between him and I, and it would be especially naïve to think I wouldn’t end up dead in a similar way in the not too distant future. Sure, I might kill a whole lot of bad guys on my way down, but sooner or later everyone dies. Even Van, the Cursed who had lived longer than our country had been founded, had eventually died. Death comes for everyone astride his pale horse, and after meeting the bastard, he didn’t seem terribly forgiving either.

“Well, that’s quite enough introspection,” I said aloud as I walked out of the blazing hallway and hurried toward the stairs. Part of me wanted to climb the elevator like Ricky had, but let’s be real, that wasn’t my style, and if you knew anything about me, you knew I could climb the fuck out of some stairs.

Admittedly, part of me was a bit worried about the flames engulfing the building, but since they didn’t seem to be bothering me at the moment, I was inclined to ignore them. Still, where there was fire, there’d soon be firefighters. I’d have to hurry if I wanted to avoid confronting civilians. Something told me the boys in rubber coats wouldn’t take kindly to me lighting a building on fire.

Taking the stairs two at a time, I focused on Ricky’s presence, and I found that I could feel her far off in the distance. She was only a few floors up, and as I reached out toward her, I realized she was hurt. I couldn’t tell how badly, the impression I had gotten from her didn’t make that clear, but she was hurt nonetheless.

“Fuck!” I cried as I redoubled my efforts. My chest heaved with effort as I burst onto the stairwell leading to where she was. The old, decayed door splintered under the force of my work boot, crashing inward as it tore free of the jam in a spray of wood.

Ricky lay only a few feet away. A pool of blood surrounded her, and while I could tell she was alive because she was still breathing, the silver flames licking up from the bullet holes perforating her chest and gut told me she was in trouble.

“Ricky!” I yelled, leaping across the space and gathering her in my arms. Her eyes fluttered open as I spoke, and while she tried to look at me, her eyes were too distant and far off for me to think she actually saw me.

“Mac,” she wheezed, blood trickling out of her mouth as she spoke. “Your ex has Bobby.” She coughed hard, spraying blood across my chest.

“Shh, it’s okay.” I ran my hand over her face, trying to brush the hair matted to her face away.