Read Online Under Wraps: An Urban Fantasy Adventure (Werewolves vs. Mummies Book 1) by J.A. Cipriano - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: J.A. Cipriano
Tags: Fantasy
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“I’m surprised you’re not dead, wolf,” she snarled. The words were so acidic they could have melted through the stone floor.
“I don’t actually like being called wolf,” I replied, cracking a smile. “How would you like it if I called you mummy?”
“It wouldn’t matter to me.” She shrugged her shoulders the barest fraction of an inch. She moved, one tentative step closer to me, the muscles in her legs tensing like she was about to spring. The gilded cover of the Book of Thoth poked up from a satchel slung over her shoulder. I wasn’t sure where she’d gotten it exactly, but there were a lot of things going on right now I didn’t quite understand.
“Aziza, don’t do it.” The words barely left my lips as she sprang, one hand swinging her sword in a wide arc at my head. Purple energy trailed off of her as she moved, making me think of a ghost leaving its essence behind.
I twisted. The blade swept by me, so close that the wind of it buffeted my clothing. Without thinking, I drove my right hand outward, catching her in the throat with the heel of my palm. The blow knocked her backward on her butt, the sword slipping from her hand and skittering across the stone.
“Setne, what is going on?” I asked, and my voice was only partially mine. It had the spirit of the wind in it, thrumming under my words like the first stirrings of a winter storm.
“I’m not sure.” Setne swallowed. He shook himself from his trance and took a couple quick steps forward. Aziza regained her feet. Her eyes threw daggers at me as I lifted my left foot and planted it square in the middle of her chest so that the ball of my foot rested on her scarab pendant. The light of it throbbed, sending amethyst shadows scampering across the dark stone.
“Move again, and I’ll end you, jailer,” the wind said with my mouth. One of my hands reached down and plucked the book from her satchel. It felt good in my hand, like a drink of iced tea after a day in the hot sun. Relaxation rippled through my body, and I heaved a sigh of relief.
The cover began to swirl into a litany of colors. The wolf buried deep within me raised its ears and inclined its head toward the book of Thoth. It glanced around, one slow, sweeping gesture that scanned the room for predators.
“You’re too late, Neferkaptah,” Aziza said, her mouth puckered up like she’d bitten into a particularly sour lemon. Little silver sparks leapt from the book’s surface and zipped through the air before dying away like firecrackers in the night.
The volume fell open in my hand as green mist swarmed over it. Deep down inside me, the wolf began to pace restlessly, ears perked. The wound in my abdomen twisted and writhed like some giant beast was pawing through my insides. It wasn’t painful per se, but it sure felt invasive.
Hieroglyphs brighter than the sun filled my vision, making black spots dance across my eyes. I tried to look away, but the wind held me transfixed upon the pages as they flickered in my hands. My flesh squirmed, bones shifting beneath my skin. I tilted my head up toward where the moon would be if it were in the room. My wolf cried out. A low rumble elicited from my lips as they curled back to reveal its fangs.
Silver light burst from the book, filling the room like a metallic sunrise as the pages revealed a wolf-headed warrior ascending a pyramid, one clawed hand gouged into the surface of the stone.
I turned the book in my hand and shoved the pages into Aziza’s face. “Do you see this?” the wolf roared and the wind howled. “This is what you have done.”
Aziza’s face went perfectly blank as she stared up at me. “No…” she whispered, voice so faint that I could barely detect the hint of it. The wolf’s ears perked, catching the faintest twinge of a sound so distant that it had to have been miles away. It tasted of fear, of panic, of the rabbit dashing away into the bushes. It smelled of prey.
I licked my lips.
Black smoke
“I’m surprised you’re not dead, wolf,” she snarled. The words were so acidic they could have melted through the stone floor.
“I don’t actually like being called wolf,” I replied, cracking a smile. “How would you like it if I called you mummy?”
“It wouldn’t matter to me.” She shrugged her shoulders the barest fraction of an inch. She moved, one tentative step closer to me, the muscles in her legs tensing like she was about to spring. The gilded cover of the Book of Thoth poked up from a satchel slung over her shoulder. I wasn’t sure where she’d gotten it exactly, but there were a lot of things going on right now I didn’t quite understand.
“Aziza, don’t do it.” The words barely left my lips as she sprang, one hand swinging her sword in a wide arc at my head. Purple energy trailed off of her as she moved, making me think of a ghost leaving its essence behind.
I twisted. The blade swept by me, so close that the wind of it buffeted my clothing. Without thinking, I drove my right hand outward, catching her in the throat with the heel of my palm. The blow knocked her backward on her butt, the sword slipping from her hand and skittering across the stone.
“Setne, what is going on?” I asked, and my voice was only partially mine. It had the spirit of the wind in it, thrumming under my words like the first stirrings of a winter storm.
“I’m not sure.” Setne swallowed. He shook himself from his trance and took a couple quick steps forward. Aziza regained her feet. Her eyes threw daggers at me as I lifted my left foot and planted it square in the middle of her chest so that the ball of my foot rested on her scarab pendant. The light of it throbbed, sending amethyst shadows scampering across the dark stone.
“Move again, and I’ll end you, jailer,” the wind said with my mouth. One of my hands reached down and plucked the book from her satchel. It felt good in my hand, like a drink of iced tea after a day in the hot sun. Relaxation rippled through my body, and I heaved a sigh of relief.
The cover began to swirl into a litany of colors. The wolf buried deep within me raised its ears and inclined its head toward the book of Thoth. It glanced around, one slow, sweeping gesture that scanned the room for predators.
“You’re too late, Neferkaptah,” Aziza said, her mouth puckered up like she’d bitten into a particularly sour lemon. Little silver sparks leapt from the book’s surface and zipped through the air before dying away like firecrackers in the night.
The volume fell open in my hand as green mist swarmed over it. Deep down inside me, the wolf began to pace restlessly, ears perked. The wound in my abdomen twisted and writhed like some giant beast was pawing through my insides. It wasn’t painful per se, but it sure felt invasive.
Hieroglyphs brighter than the sun filled my vision, making black spots dance across my eyes. I tried to look away, but the wind held me transfixed upon the pages as they flickered in my hands. My flesh squirmed, bones shifting beneath my skin. I tilted my head up toward where the moon would be if it were in the room. My wolf cried out. A low rumble elicited from my lips as they curled back to reveal its fangs.
Silver light burst from the book, filling the room like a metallic sunrise as the pages revealed a wolf-headed warrior ascending a pyramid, one clawed hand gouged into the surface of the stone.
I turned the book in my hand and shoved the pages into Aziza’s face. “Do you see this?” the wolf roared and the wind howled. “This is what you have done.”
Aziza’s face went perfectly blank as she stared up at me. “No…” she whispered, voice so faint that I could barely detect the hint of it. The wolf’s ears perked, catching the faintest twinge of a sound so distant that it had to have been miles away. It tasted of fear, of panic, of the rabbit dashing away into the bushes. It smelled of prey.
I licked my lips.
Black smoke
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