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

controlled by one single entity. Their eyes were far off and distant as they pointed their machine guns at the vampire in unison. I stared at the wall of MP5s and AK47s in horror. Vampire or not, how was he going to survive enough bullets to cut a building in half?
    Instead of fleeing, the vampire calmly looked down at the wounds perforating his otherwise flawless form. He flicked his wrist disdainfully. Bullets tore out of his flesh in a cascade of golden fluid and flew outward at the men. Cultists dropped without a word, not bothering to scream or cry out as their own bullets cut them down.
    The vampire smiled, his white fangs flashing in the dim light filtering into the building. The wounds on his body were gone. In the time it took me to blink, there was no trace he’d been hurt at all. I wasn’t sure how he had managed either of those tricks, but the sight of them made my blood run cold. A horrible feeling filled me from the tips of my toes to the top of my head as I watched him saunter toward the cultists without a care in the world. If he was so powerful, why the hell was he playing pool in a back alley bar?
    Heedless of the vampire’s previous attack, the remaining cultists opened fire, filling the room with hot lead. Fortunately for us, the bullets never made it more than a couple of feet from their guns. The creature of the night waved his hand dismissively. The bullets stopped, hanging there in midair like they’d been caught in invisible gelatin.
    “You dare defy the sanctity of Jack’s?” the vampire asked, and as his voice shook the room, I got the distinct feeling he wasn’t actually talking to the cultists, but someone else entirely. He took an angry step toward the cultists, purple light spilling off his skin like rainwater. “That is against the accords and shall be punished accordingly.”
    The bullets flew back en masse and slammed into the men before ripping themselves out of the men so they could bury themselves back into the cultist’s flesh over and over again. His onslaught continued until the Stars and Moons were nothing more than a mishmash of flesh, bones, and blood.
    My stomach lurched from the sight, and the whiskey I’d consumed earlier threatened to come back up as I turned toward Sera and Duane, my mouth agape.
    “What the hell?” I whispered, unsure if my words could even be heard over the ringing in my ears.
    Sera glanced at me and cocked one delicate eyebrow into the air. “He’s teaching their master a lesson. If he tries to take me in here, the vampire will defend me.”
    “Your condition is acceptable,” said a voice that summoned images of erupting volcanoes and brimstone. The room dropped fifty degrees in temperature, and my next breath came out in mist as a horrified look flashed across Sera’s face.
    She tried to say something, but as her mouth opened, her words were drowned out by the sound of something striking the vampire. The center of his chest ripped open, exposing his ribcage to the fresh air in a shower of golden blood. The vampire collapsed forward onto the cement, his weird demonic form melting away like it had been made of ice.
    Duane sprinted toward him, but by the time he reached the fallen vampire, the creature was back to normal. A slow, methodical clap filled the air as Duane pulled the vamp from the pool of gilded slime.
    An Asian man dressed in a several thousand dollar suit stepped up to the entrance of Jack’s, his right, black as pitch hand smacking against his tanned left one. Sickly green light spilled from the edges of his right cuff as he surveyed the bar with eyes the color of storm clouds. His scarred lips curled into an amused smile that filled his eyes like he was in the happiest place on earth sans crowds when he saw me.
    “So Sera has recruited one of us to her cause,” he said, nodding to me. “I beg you, brother, for your own sake, stay out of this one. Whatever she has promised you, my master can make it seem insignificant in