Cursed: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Thrice Cursed Mage Book 1) by J. A. Cipriano

Author:J. A. Cipriano [Cipriano, J. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Thrillers & Suspense, Crime, Heist, Kidnapping, Murder, Organized Crime, Vigilante Justice, Supernatural, Ghosts, Psychics, Vampires, Werewolves & Shifters, Witches & Wizards, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Superheroes, Suspense, Paranormal, Thrillers, Fantasy
ISBN: 152395664X
Amazon: B01BK6PW6Y
Published: 2016-02-07T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

Something slammed into the side of the pickup, throwing me across the bed as we fled the wolves’ den. I smacked into the metal wall and little tweety birds flapped around my skull singing mocking tunes.

Duane crouched down next to me, his shotgun resting against one shoulder as he fired the weapon off to the side. The shriek of broken glass and screeching metal filled my ears before something rammed into us again. Duane lost his balance and toppled sideways into the dirt next to me. As our pickup fishtailed, the shotgun slipped out of his grip and slid across the soil-strewn truck bed.

The truck’s back window exploded in a spray of glass that rained down on top of me. Jack cursed from within the cab of the truck before we whipped sideways, skidding across the road in a screech of rubber. The truck fishtailed, and I was thrown across the bed once again. I stuck my legs out to keep myself from crashing into the wall and the impact ran down my entire body. I slumped to the ground, my face in the dirt as I tried to orient myself to my surroundings. My head pounded so hard I could scarcely get a hold of myself over the crescendo between my ears.

Duane crawled forward on his hands and knees, trying desperately to reach his weapon. We swerved again, and he lost his balance, sprawling in the dirt. Another burst of gunfire tore into the truck’s tail, blasting the tailgate open and revealing a black Camry similar to the one I’d crushed with Loraine’s body. This one, unfortunately, was filled with muscle-bound goons, three of whom were leaning out the vehicle’s windows and packing serious heat in the form of 9mm Uzis.

I flattened myself against the debris-covered metal as they opened fire, filling the air with bullets as their guns jerked around in their hands like flopping fish. Jack’s swerving wasn’t the only thing that kept them from mostly missing the truck, but it was what caused Duane’s shotgun to fly across the bed and hit the wall next to me.

I flopped forward on elbows, ignoring the pain that flashed along my forearms and snatched the weapon even though the tiny burst of movement made my guts revolt. I pushed down my nausea and concentrated on pointing the shotgun at the Camry. It swerved back into view, and I fired into the car’s windshield. The sound of busted glass filled my cotton swabbed brain. The car swerved sideways, clipping an old VW bug and tearing off its driver’s side mirror in a spray of sparks.

“Good shooting,” Duane called, giving me a thumbs up.

I tried to smile at him and wound up throwing up into the dirt. Thankfully, there wasn’t much inside my belly because a moment later, I found myself lying face down in the mess. Duane scrambled over to me and reached out for the gun clasped in my right hand. The moment he touched me, my tattoos

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