Cursed: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Thrice Cursed Mage Book 1) Read online

  “You’re welcome.” She nodded before opening the back door of the tiny car and tossing the basket on the backseat. “Now let’s go. I want to be back home by 2PM. That gives us four hours.”

  “I don’t think it will take that long. I’ll take a quick shower,” I replied, walking up to the passenger door as she slid into the driver’s seat.

  “You never know,” she said, reaching across the car and unlocking the door for me. “You might be one of those girly men who needs conditioner and body butter.”

  Chapter 4

  Aside from being small, her apartment was rather nice despite everything inside looking like it’d come from thrift stores and clearance bins. All of it had personality to it, suggesting she’d put thought into everything from the green table with yellow legs to the gray couch with pink zebra-striped throw pillows.

  A movie poster of Alan Rickman dressed as Severus Snape hung front and center above the couch. Hanging next to it were pictures of the actor in his various roles, and my eyes immediately locked on the one of Hans Gruber falling from the top of the Nakatomi building. “Yippee ki yay!” was written on it in golden ink followed by a signature I couldn’t make out, but since a similar John Hancock was on the Galaxy Quest photo beneath it, I was inclined to think it might be the man’s autograph.

  “Well, someone has an obsession,” I said, tearing my gaze from the photos to find her a few feet away, old takeout bags in her hands as she tried and mostly failed, to clear off the cluttered space. A flush filled her cheeks as she stood there red-handed.

  “Call me old fashioned, but it just isn’t Christmas until I see Hans Gruber fall off Nakatomi Plaza.” She shrugged and deposited her refuse into a trashcan stylized like R2D2. “And if you disagree, you can leave.”

  “You know, when I was little I watched Die Hard a bunch of times.” I shrugged, not sure how I remembered it, but the memory had sprung into my mind when she’d mentioned Nakatomi Plaza. “Every night for an entire summer, I laid in my bed and watched John McClane take out terrorists. I was never much for surfing, so that was my own personal Endless Summer.”

  “Well, good then,” she said, letting out a little sigh of relief before shaking herself back to reality. “The shower’s over there.” She pointed behind me, and I glanced over my shoulder and saw a closed door that looked even cheaper than the threadbare carpet.

  “Alright,” I said, turning back toward her. She had another armful of trash. Evidently, she didn’t clean very often, but judging by the look of the place, it seemed like most of it may have been from the night before.

  “I’ll try to find you something to wear. My ex left some of his stuff here, and he was about your size.” Even though I didn’t know her well, a wistful sadness seemed to fill her as she said the words.

  Before I could respond, the door directly behind her burst open and a boy about eight years old with dark bedraggled hair stepped out into the living room.

  “Mom, you’re home!” he squeaked, rushing toward her before stopping suddenly as he caught sight of me. “Who is that?” He pointed at me, accusation and confusion filling his tiny face.

  A look of panic burst across the brunette’s face before melting into an expression of horror. She spun on her heels, still clutching the takeout bags and stared at the boy in disbelief. “John, why are you home?” She looked him up and down, taking in his Spider-man T-shirt and blue jeans like they were out of place. “And why aren’t you in your uniform?”

  “A water pipe broke at school so they had to send us home because there was no more running water.” The boy shrugged. “So when I got off the bus, I came up and changed. They said they called you.”

  Embarrassment filled her cheeks as she dropped the bags onto the counter and snatched her battered black purse off the table. She opened it in a flurry and pulled out a small pink phone and stared at it.

  “Christ,” she muttered, punching in some buttons on the phone and holding it to her ear. While I couldn’t make out the words, an automated voice droned from the device. A moment later, she pulled the phone away and stared at the boy.

  “Can you go to Emily’s for a little while? Mommy has some errands to run.” She stared at him apologetically, and I felt like the worse kind of slime simply for existing. “We can go get iced cream when I get back, okay?”

  The boy looked at her for a long time before sighing loudly. “Fine,” he grumbled before glaring at me like it was my fault, which it probably was. Then he trudged past me toward the door, pausing only to snag a Transformer that looked like Optimus Prime off the counter.

  The door opened and closed behind me, but even still I could hear him walk only a few feet before knocking on another door. It opened, there were some muffled words. It shut.

  “Emily is my neighbor. She’s an old widow and watches John sometimes when I’m at work,” the brunette said by way of explanation, her cheeks still filled with cherry-colored embarrassment.

  I waved my hand, trying to dismiss her sudden need to explain herself. Truthfully, I felt pretty horrible about being here, and now I was basically forcing her son to have to go stay with a neighbor. If I’d done the smart thing and left to look for my wallet in the alley like I’d originally planned on doing, she would be able to spend time with her son now.

  I still wasn’t quite sure why I’d come with her. Part of it was that I really wanted to try getting this black stuff off my arm. If a shower didn’t work, my next bath was going to be in a vat of paint thinner. The other part was a little more complicated because I couldn’t quite explain it to myself. Since the moment I’d seen her getting beaten up by those guys in the laundromat, I had the urge to protect her. It was silly, especially since I didn’t even know who I was, let alone who she was, but there it was.

  “You don’t need to explain yourself to me.” I turned toward the bathroom. “I really appreciate this, by the way. I’ll be out of your hair in only a moment.” I shot her a grin. “I mean, if I was a good person I’d just leave right now, but have you smelled me?”

  She wrinkled her nose even as relief spread across her face. “Unfortunately, yes.”

  “Then you know a shower is something I can’t refuse,” I said, and she smiled, and it was like someone turned on the sun. My heart leapt in my throat, cutting off the oxygen to my brain as I stared at her for almost as long as it would take for the moment to stretch into awkwardness. Even though she had a kid, I’d be lying if I didn’t briefly entertain an idyllic fantasy with a white picket fence.

  I pushed the thought away, suddenly embarrassed to be thinking about her like that and made my way into her cozy bathroom. With the door shut and locked behind me, I reached past the Transformers shower curtain and turned on the water so it could heat up while I stripped off my clothes. It was a little weird because I wasn’t sure where to put my dirty laundry. In the end, I opted for dropping it in a pile behind the door.

  As I stepped into the warm spray of the shower, a euphoric feeling overcame me. I’d never expected a shower to make me feel this much better, but then again, I couldn’t remember spending the night in a dumpster before. As I watched dirty brown water circle the drain and disappear, I tried to content myself with what little progress I’d made.

  It was hard to do. I was really no closer to finding out who I was despite an insatiable need welling up in me, demanding I do something. I just didn’t know what. It was possible the police would be able to help me, but I was reasonably sure things were going to get more complicated before they got better. My best case scenario was that someone had filed a missing person’s report for me, but I didn’t have especially high hopes.

  For all I knew, I’d only disappeared last night, and I was pretty sure the police didn’t begin looking for people until at least a day had passed. No, it was more likely, they would have no information about me whatsoever. It was even more frustrating because I had a niggling feeling in the back of my mind that time was of the essence.

  “What if I fi
nd out who I am, and it’s too late to use to do anything?” I whispered into the shower spray as I tried to scrub the blackness off my arm, but it was as stubborn as ever. I was starting to worry it was permanent, but that didn’t make any sense. Why would I have made my one arm as black as pitch on purpose? The tattoos I could sort of understand. People got tattoos all the time, but I’d never heard of anyone tattooing their arm to be black as coal.

  “Why can’t I remember why I have this stuff on my arm?” I growled in frustration a few minutes later. As I said the words, a sense that I was being watched filled me to nearly bursting. I spun in a slow circle, but seeing no one, I poked my head out of the shower. No one was in the bathroom either, so why did it feel like someone was boring holes in my back?

  “Hello?” I asked, somewhat louder, but no one responded. I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. I ducked my head back inside the shower and grabbed a handful of shampoo with a name I couldn’t pronounce. The smell of lavender filled my nostrils. I worked it into my scalp as quickly as possible. Even if there was no one watching me, I was suddenly all showered out.

  I had just finished rinsing and was about to shut off the water when a knock on the door made me leap out of my skin. I crashed into the wall and stood there, chest heaving and heart hammering.

  “I’m going to leave the clothes for you by the door.” The brunette’s voice carried through the door surprisingly well, making me wonder how thin the door was.

  “Yeah,” I said, shutting the water off and snatching a towel of the rack.

  “I think there’s a spare toothbrush in the drawer.” Then, before I could thank her, the sound of her retreating footsteps filled my ears.

  “Thanks,” I called, trying to figure out what had happened, before deciding to shrug it off. I wrapped the towel around myself and stepped out of the shower. I found the toothbrush right where she said it would be. It was one of those free sample ones the dentist gives you for being a good boy.

  I’m not sure if I can properly explain how good it felt to brush my teeth. My mouth had tasted like an ashtray mixed with heaping tablespoons of vomit and blood. Now it didn’t. Ecstatic didn’t even come close.

  I opened the door, intent on snatching the clothing she’d left by the door, but as I opened it, she saw me with only a towel wrapped around my waist. The mug in her hand slipped from her grip, crashing to the floor and spilling dark, steaming liquid across the carpet as horror filled her face.

  “Get out of my house right now!” she screamed, pointing at my right arm and backing away. I had half a moment to look at myself in confusion because I wasn’t sure why she was so upset. Then I saw my arm and everything sank into place.

  I held up my hands in a “whoa, there” gesture. “Look, let me explain,” I said even though I had no idea how I was going to do that.

  “I don’t want to hear your lies!” Her hand went to the drawer next to her as she jerked out a revolver big enough to leave a tennis ball sized exit wound in my body. “Get out right now and don’t come back, Cursed!”

  Chapter 5

  “Look, just let me get dressed and I’ll leave,” I said, hoping against hope she wouldn’t just shoot me where I stood. Still, it was a little weird, right? Her just pointing a gun at me and calling me cursed. The way she said the word made it seem more like a description for a demon or monster and less like I’d had a curse put on me, but what the hell was a cursed? Clearly she knew about me, which I supposed was good even if it did have her pointing a gun at me. All I needed to do was get her to help me a little more.

  “Don’t make me regret helping you,” she snapped, glaring at me with something dark and menacing in her eyes. That look told me in no uncertain terms that she’d shoot me if I so much as blinked the wrong way. “But since you are one of the Cursed, I’m pretty sure that’s impossible!”

  “I won’t make you regret it. I promise.” I slowly knelt down and picked up the clothing at my feet, but as I moved to head back into the bathroom, she stopped me with a wave of the gun.

  “No, dress where I can see you,” she said both her gun and gaze unwavering.

  I was about to argue, but decided against it. What good would it do? She was right to be cautious after all. I did have the Beretta in my trench coat, and while I didn’t want to shoot her, I would if it kept me from getting shot.

  “Okay,” I said, dropping the towel to the ground and standing there in my scar-riddled birthday suit.

  A blush filled her cheeks, and for a split second she looked away before realizing what she was doing. I must have unconsciously taken a step toward her in that time because when she looked back at me, a snarl was on her lips. “Step back to where you were. I will shoot you if you move so much as an inch toward me.”

  “Well, this is officially the least fun time I’ve ever had being naked next to a beautiful woman,” I replied, trying my best to lighten the mood. It didn’t seem to work so I busied myself examining what she’d given me to wear. A white button up, tan pants, a pair of smiley face boxers, and dark gray socks with little black kittens stitched onto the cuff. The socks made me smile until I remembered they came from her ex. Still, it wasn’t like I had a lot of choice. It was either wear these clothes or go back to my smelly, blood-spattered Walmart uniform. I put it on. It fit surprisingly well.

  “Great, you’re dressed. Get out!” She gestured toward the door with one hand while being careful to keep the gun lined up on the center of my chest.

  “Can I ask you something?” I said, dropping my hands to my sides in an attempt to appear less threatening. It was hard since you could still make out the black skin of my demonic arm through the thin white fabric.

  “No,” she said before letting out a sigh and softening a hair. “What?”

  “Why do you keep calling me cursed?” I said, trying my best to stare through her eyes and into her thoughts as I asked the question. It was no use. A mind reader I was not.

  “Your arm marks the kiss of the Devil. I’m not sure for why.” She shot me a sad look that made my heart skip a beat. There was so much sadness in that look it made my chest hurt. “Get going.” She gestured toward the door again.

  “I just need to get my coat,” I said, still trying to process what she’d told me. My arm had the kiss of the Devil on it? What the hell did that mean?

  “Okay,” she replied. “But if you try anything, I will shoot you so many times even your demonic fairy godmother won’t be able to bring you back again. Understand?”

  I nodded, and moving slowly, so she wouldn’t shoot me for making sudden movements, grabbed my trench coat. The moment I touched the dark fabric, I felt better. There was definitely something going on with the garment, my demon arm, and the girl. I just couldn’t put it together. I tried to think about what it could possibly be, but as I reached into the mists of my memory, the only thing I could grasp were fragments of light and sound. Sadly, those were of little help.

  “There, you have it, now go,” she stated flatly, gesturing toward the door for perhaps the millionth time.

  “Alright. Thanks for the shower.” I smiled at her and slung on my trench coat. I looked like Castiel from Supernatural minus the tie. Awesome. “I don’t suppose you can tell me anything else?”

  “I can tell you to leave again,” she replied, gritting her teeth. Normally, the look on her face would have made me back off, but what other choice did I have. If I didn’t get information out of her, I was back to square one.

  Leaving like this wouldn’t help me find out who or what I was. I’ll be honest, the thought of putting everything together was slightly less appealing than it had once been since I now knew a devil had marked my arm. I was pretty sure what I found out about my past wasn’t going to be puppy dogs and sunshine. Maybe I didn’t really want to find out. Maybe leaving now would be the smart play, and it had the added benefit of keeping me from getting shot.

  But I was Mac Brennan, and evidently, I liked to do things the hard way.


  In one quick movement, I had the Beretta out and pointed at her. “As soon as you fill me in on what you know about me, I’ll get out of your hair. I promise,” I replied, while making sure I kept a respectable distance between us. If I needed to, I could still leap into the bathroom.

  “Mother fucker,” she cursed before glaring at me hard enough to make my insides twist in guilt. “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you.”

  “You don’t have to trust me, just help me out.” I wiggled the fingers of my right hand, even though I wasn’t sure it was my best play. “Just tell me what you know about my arm, and I’ll be gone. I wasn’t lying when I said I woke up with no memory.” I carefully put my gun down on the carpet. “See I’m a nice guy.”

  Her eyes tracked my movements, and when I stood back up, she let out an explosion of breath but didn’t lower her gun. Several seconds that seemed so thick with tension I could have spread them across toast passed between us.

  “I’m going to hold you to that, Cursed.” She shot me an angry look. “If you knew what you were, you would understand my apprehension.”

  “Fair enough,” I replied as she looked me over, probably trying to decide if I had any other hidden surprises. “What am I?”

  “That’s all you have to say for yourself?” she asked, her features softening into a resigned sadness that made me feel like I’d just told her I’d lost the rent money gambling but would never do it again, and even though she knew it was a lie, she was willing to hope it was true. That this time would somehow be different. It made me feel like the worst piece of garbage ever, and while I had no idea what her previous dealings with Cursed had been, I resolved to try my best to make sure this time would be different.

  “I’m not sure what else to say.” I tapped my temple with my right index finger. “No memories.”

  “You really don’t know what I’m talking about, do you?” she asked, but it didn’t sound like a question.

  “I’m not sure how I could make that more clear,” I replied, letting out a breath I hadn’t known I had been holding. “My name is Mac Brennan, and I woke up in a dumpster this morning. Other than that, I have exactly zero memory.”