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

hand conspiratorially. “Werewolves can change their hair color, but she’s the only one I know who does it down there too.”
    The girl’s face hardened into granite as she glanced from him to me and back again, and I suddenly had the horrible feeling I was being played for a fool. I felt like I’d stepped into a college frat party as the guest of the guy known for throwing up in the punch bowl and starting fights. I took a deep breath and shot the girl my nicest smile as I followed Jack into the tiny metal elevator.
    “You shouldn’t say things like that to me, Jack. One day Ricky won’t be around, and on that day, I’ll chop off your balls,” the woman replied, stabbing a button on the elevator hard enough for me to feel sorry for the inanimate object. “I already have a special place in my purse all picked out for them.”
    “Honey, you may want to get in line. If I had a nickel for every girl who wanted to chop off my balls, I’d be richer than Warren Buffett.” Jack shot her a wry grin, and I was starting to think his natural M.O. might be to piss people off. It made me wonder how long he’d been alive. Something about his face made me think he was ancient, but jackasses tended to get killed early on. I’d have to watch him closely.
    She raised an eyebrow at Jack, and I swear to God, her nails grew a little longer and little sharper as she looked him up and down. She stood in one of those wide, open stances that dared him to try something. “Keep it up Jackie. I’ll bet soprano suits you.”
    Jack chuckled, and the sound of it seemed to fill the tiny elevator as he turned his back completely to the woman and gave me a knowing smile. He was playing her. I just wished he’d let me know why. “Cursed, I’d like you to meet Loraine, Ricky’s second. She’s not powerful enough to even lick Ricky’s boots, but she is nice to look at. It’s probably why she hasn’t tripped and fallen on something sharp quite yet.”
    Loraine stiffened like she’d been struck and fury filled her dark eyes. The smell of wet dog caught my nose as her mouth bared just a touch, reminding me of when I’d faced down the two thugs in the laundromat. Unfortunately, unlike then, I was currently enclosed in a metal coffin hurtling up who knew how many floors. A fight here would likely not end well.
    “I’m sorry my friend is a jackass,” I said, pushing past Jack and offering her my hand. “I’ve only known him a few minutes actually. We’re not even really friends, more like acquaintances.”
    Loraine looked at my hand like it was covered in dung, and then, with a loud sigh shook her head and painted a smile across her lips that died well before his eyes. “I’ll do my best not to hold it against you, Cursed .”
    “She won’t be shaking your hand, so you might as well put that away,” Jack said, reaching out and pushing my right hand down to my side. “Even if she wasn’t a germophobe, which she is even though werewolves can eat raw chicken and not have to worry about salmonella, she wouldn’t touch your demon flesh since it’s an affront to Gaia or some other stupid shit.”
    “Just because no werewolf has ever gotten food poisoning does not mean we’re immune to some weird demonic pathogen. Maybe all it takes is for me to get demon AIDs is to touch his arm. Call me crazy, but I do not want to be the black swan that destroys my species.” Loraine pursed her lips, apparently choosing to ignore the Gaia crack. She opened her mouth to say more when the elevator beeped, and we lurched to a stop on a floor with no number.
    The metal doors opened, revealing a room bigger than a breadbasket, but not by much. The ground was covered with soft cream colored carpet, and while one of the walls was encompassed by a huge window, the other two were paneled in redwood. It reminded me of a cabin only modern and comfortable, if a bit cozy. A sleek chrome desk sat directly in front of the elevator, taking up the majority of