Seized: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Thrice Cursed Mage Book 4) by J.A. Cipriano Page A

find you.”
    He took a swig from the flask and pocketed it. Almost immediately the rage in his eyes faded, and I wondered for the first time if maybe his drinking was a way of mellowing him out so he didn’t rage kill us all. It was a sobering thought.
    I nodded to him, and as I did, Vitaly yanked off his shirt, sending buttons flying in every direction. As he used it to wipe the blood off his face and hands, I stood there in awe of him. To say the Russian was ripped was the understatement of the year. He had so many muscles his muscles had muscles, and his muscles’ muscles were bigger than mine.
    He grabbed another shirt off a rack and slung it on. He buttoned it with one hand while snatching a gold tie off the display next to it. Without a word, he pulled it around his neck and marched out of view.
    “Let’s go,” Jenna said, leaping through the broken mirror like a ballet dancer. She landed lithely on the other side as I covered her with my AK47. Once she was through, she turned and covered me while I made my way through the razor-edged hole. I was way less athletic about it.
    As I scrambled through the maw of broken, jagged glass, I somehow managed to make it to the other side without slicing myself to ribbons, which was good. I would have looked horrible sliced to ribbons. Jenna nodded to me as I emerged and made her way toward the broken front windows of the shop, hoping Wendy had our getaway van ready to go.
    A pair of what looked like storm shutters had been punched inward and lay in a pile of rubble on the floor. Had they descended to protect the building before they’d been blown away by a subsequent explosion?
    It was a little weird because I didn’t think they needed storm shutters in New York, but then again, I wasn’t from here and had no memory so what did I know? Still, what had brought them down? Was there some kind of silent alarm? I wasn’t sure, but if there was, it meant one thing. Police would be on the way, and there was no way that would end well for us since the parking lot was filled with over a dozen bodies.
    All of them looked like they’d been sliced open with a fire axe, but I’ll be honest, I mostly thought that because the one closest to our stolen van had a fire axe buried in her chest. I guess that was the quickest way to a nun’s heart.
    Wendy sat perched behind the wheel of said van, but she was so tiny, it seemed like she could barely see over the steering wheel. It made the sight of Vitaly getting into the passenger seat next to her almost comical by comparison.
    “Hurry!” Vitaly called as police sirens flashed in the distance and the telltale sound of a helicopter filled my ears. That wasn’t good. While I’d taken out a couple of helicopters in my past, it never seemed to end well.
    Jenna and I sprinted toward the open back doors. I’m ashamed to say it, but even though my lungs were burning, and I’d given it all I had, Jenna was already inside the van and fastening her seatbelt by the time I’d reached the van. I’d barely shut the doors when Wendy took off in a squeal of burning rubber that sent me tumbling into the doors I’d just closed.
    We bounced out of the parking lot and slammed into a passing Mercedes with enough force to tear the back end off of the luxury car. Our van, on the other hand, seemed perfectly fine, but that was probably because it was used by nuns with access to Special Forces vehicles. It sort of made me sad they weren’t on our side. If they were, I’d have loved to take a peek into their armory. Then again, I was sort of fond of my tongue.
    “I think we need to stop wasting time and complete the job as soon as possible,” I said as I clambered over to the partition separating the cab from the back of the van instead of taking a seat.
    “No, we need to ditch this heap so the sisters can’t track us,” Wendy said from the front seat. Her eyes were locked on the road as she moved us down side streets as fast as she could. No police