Read Online twice cursed mage 05 - claimed by j a cipriano - Free Book Online
Authors: j a cipriano
Tags: Fantasy
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spattering against my shield. Hopefully filling the inside of the van with a magical shield would work, after all, It had shielded Jenna when we’d been adventuring through Hell, but as my vision started to go spotty and everything around me faded into a distilled point of darkness, I wasn’t sure my plan had worked. Then again, we weren’t dead so that portable missile silo could suck it sideways.
Then the van slammed into a brick building, shattering the fire escape and crashing into the living room of an old guy wearing boxers and watching Jeopardy at full blast. He leapt to his feet in time for the van to fall completely on its roof. I smashed into the hard steel ceiling a moment before Jack’s unconscious form landed on top of my gut, causing the air to burst from my lungs.
I lay there, unsure I was alive as my flaming shield died with a whimper rather than a roar. I couldn’t hear much because it felt like my head had been dipped in cotton, but I struggled to my feet anyway. Maya was hanging upside down in the front seat, suspended by her seatbelt. Despite the cut on her forehead, she seemed relatively okay. Ramon was nowhere to be found, but judging by the hole in the driver’s side door, I was pretty sure he’d either been splattered across the pavement outside or leapt to safety. Given his healing factor and metal insides, I was giving him fifty, fifty odds.
Either way, we had to get out of here before more guys with missiles showed up. I shot a glance at Jack and sighed. I was going to have to carry him out. Damn.
“You better be fucking broken,” I said, hauling him to his feet because there was no way I was going to leave him here to die. “Because otherwise, I’m going to be pissed.” He didn’t even have the decency to respond, the bastard.
I wasn’t sure what we were going to find outside, but if we stayed here, the likelihood we’d wind up leveling the city on top of a bunch of civilians Avengers style was too high to contemplate. I wasn’t Speedball or anything so I’d get over it long before I turned my cat into a penitent puss.
Then and there, I decided, it was time to stop running around playing by their rules. No, I was going to take this opportunity to change the game Mac Brennan style.
Chapter 9
“Fancy a reclaimed cat skull full of cider?” the old man who had been watching Jeopardy in his boxers asked as I emerged from the scorched van carrying a comatose vampire. “Or are you more of an IPA type of guy?”
“Say what?” I asked, looking at him completely dumbfounded. Sure enough, he was standing in the small kitchen attached to his now ruined living room with a goblet made from a fucking cat’s skull in one hand and a jug of cider in the other.
“Do you want a drink?” he asked, fixing me with a steely-eyed glare as his caterpillar-like eyebrows narrowed. “I mean if you’re going to go and fuck up my shit, we may as well have a drink.”
I wasn’t quite sure what was going on with him because this seemed like a somewhat atypical reaction to us suddenly arriving in his living room as the result of me blowing up a missile with Hellfire.
“Is it organic?” Maya asked, crawling out from the now broken windshield. She stood, brushing bits of safety glass off of her clothing. “Because I only drink organic cider from cat skulls.”
“Do you honestly think I’d have gone to the trouble of getting reclaimed cat skulls if I was going to pour non-organic, GMO-laden crap into them?” the old guy asked, shaking his head angrily as he approached her with one of the skulls. Amber liquid frothed from within. “Honestly, kids these days.”
“Fair enough,” Maya said, accepting the goblet from the old guy as he looked her up and down without any effort to hide himself doing it.
“Nice window dressing, but you’re not really my style. No offense,” he said after a moment. Then as she stood there mouth open in shock, he walked right past her and up to me.
Then the van slammed into a brick building, shattering the fire escape and crashing into the living room of an old guy wearing boxers and watching Jeopardy at full blast. He leapt to his feet in time for the van to fall completely on its roof. I smashed into the hard steel ceiling a moment before Jack’s unconscious form landed on top of my gut, causing the air to burst from my lungs.
I lay there, unsure I was alive as my flaming shield died with a whimper rather than a roar. I couldn’t hear much because it felt like my head had been dipped in cotton, but I struggled to my feet anyway. Maya was hanging upside down in the front seat, suspended by her seatbelt. Despite the cut on her forehead, she seemed relatively okay. Ramon was nowhere to be found, but judging by the hole in the driver’s side door, I was pretty sure he’d either been splattered across the pavement outside or leapt to safety. Given his healing factor and metal insides, I was giving him fifty, fifty odds.
Either way, we had to get out of here before more guys with missiles showed up. I shot a glance at Jack and sighed. I was going to have to carry him out. Damn.
“You better be fucking broken,” I said, hauling him to his feet because there was no way I was going to leave him here to die. “Because otherwise, I’m going to be pissed.” He didn’t even have the decency to respond, the bastard.
I wasn’t sure what we were going to find outside, but if we stayed here, the likelihood we’d wind up leveling the city on top of a bunch of civilians Avengers style was too high to contemplate. I wasn’t Speedball or anything so I’d get over it long before I turned my cat into a penitent puss.
Then and there, I decided, it was time to stop running around playing by their rules. No, I was going to take this opportunity to change the game Mac Brennan style.
Chapter 9
“Fancy a reclaimed cat skull full of cider?” the old man who had been watching Jeopardy in his boxers asked as I emerged from the scorched van carrying a comatose vampire. “Or are you more of an IPA type of guy?”
“Say what?” I asked, looking at him completely dumbfounded. Sure enough, he was standing in the small kitchen attached to his now ruined living room with a goblet made from a fucking cat’s skull in one hand and a jug of cider in the other.
“Do you want a drink?” he asked, fixing me with a steely-eyed glare as his caterpillar-like eyebrows narrowed. “I mean if you’re going to go and fuck up my shit, we may as well have a drink.”
I wasn’t quite sure what was going on with him because this seemed like a somewhat atypical reaction to us suddenly arriving in his living room as the result of me blowing up a missile with Hellfire.
“Is it organic?” Maya asked, crawling out from the now broken windshield. She stood, brushing bits of safety glass off of her clothing. “Because I only drink organic cider from cat skulls.”
“Do you honestly think I’d have gone to the trouble of getting reclaimed cat skulls if I was going to pour non-organic, GMO-laden crap into them?” the old guy asked, shaking his head angrily as he approached her with one of the skulls. Amber liquid frothed from within. “Honestly, kids these days.”
“Fair enough,” Maya said, accepting the goblet from the old guy as he looked her up and down without any effort to hide himself doing it.
“Nice window dressing, but you’re not really my style. No offense,” he said after a moment. Then as she stood there mouth open in shock, he walked right past her and up to me.
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