Cursed (An Alex Verus Novel)

Cursed (An Alex Verus Novel)

Dark rituals drag London mage Alex Verus into the center of a conspiracy in this thrilling novel from the national bestselling author of Marked . Since his second sight made him infamous for defeating powerful dark mages, Alex Verus has been keeping his head down. But now he's discovered the resurgence of a forbidden ritual. Someone is harvesting the life-force of magical creatures—destroying them in the process. And draining humans is next on the agenda. Hired to investigate, Alex discovers not everyone on the Council wants him delving any deeper. Struggling to distinguish ally from enemy, he finds himself the target of those who would risk their own sanity for power. Alex still has the advantage of seeing the future—but he might not have a future for much longer. Praise for Cursed “Benedict Jacka started off his Alex Verus series with a bang with Fated , and doesn’t lose pace with Cursed .”— SF Site   “Jacka follows his urban fantasy debut, Fated , with an even more impressive tale of gunplay and spellcraft in present-day London...Readers will savor this tasty blend of magic, explosions, and moral complexity.”— Publishers Weekly (starred review) “A wonderfully fun, action-packed story with witty dialogue making it another great installment for the Alex Verus series.”—All Things Urban Fantasy   “ Cursed ups the ante in almost every department of the book, and it will fetch the author more fans as they strive to find satisfaction from books other than the Dresden Files. Be sure to check out this wonderful series.”—Fantasy Book Critic   “Benedict Jacka is a master storyteller. He has a wonderful way of taking familiar ideas and polishing them until they glow, then intertwining them with something new...A brilliant urban fantasy that is so professionally polished and paced that you barely remember to come up for air. Cursed takes everything that was great about Fated and then puts it on a diet of steroids. It is fun and action packed but now bigger, angrier, and absolutely nuts. I loved it.”—Fantasy Faction   “If you like action-packed, magic-fueled story then this is the series for you. It has a fast-paced story which captivated me from start till finish and had a complex mystery that you could really get into.”—Under the Covers Book Blog Benedict Jacka is the national bestselling author of the Alex Verus series. He’s half Australian, half Armenian, and grew up in London. He's worked as a teacher, bouncer, and civil servant, and spends his spare time skating and playing tabletop games. Chapter One The old factory was the kind of place you only find in the very worst parts of big cities. Its bricks had once been red, but years of grime and pollution had darkened them to a brownish–grey. The outer wall was topped with ragged coils of razor wire. The wire was rusted and full of holes that hadn’t been repaired in years, as if the owners had decided that they couldn’t keep the burglars out but might at least be able to give them tetanus on the way in. The rest of the dead–end street was dark, empty–looking buildings and shops hiding behind steel security gratings. The gratings were covered in graffiti and it was hard to tell whether the businesses locked behind them were still open or whether they’d been abandoned too. The only shop that looked in good shape carried the triple–sphere sign of a pawnbroker’s. Behind the shops and factory was the sort of council estate where the muggers use broken bottles because they can’t afford knives. It was only eleven o’clock and the rest of London was filled with the sounds of the city, but on the street nothing moved. The road was empty except for parked cars. Half of them were missing wheels, windows, or both, and none would have looked out of place in a junkyard—except for the minivan parked at the top of the street. Its polished black paint melted into the shadows, with the orange glow from the streetlights picking out the silver hubcaps and lights along with the Mercedes symbol mounted on the grill. I rolled my eyes when I saw it. My senses told me there was no immediate danger but I stayed in the shadows of the alley and scanned the street for another minute before walking out towards the van. Most of the streetlights were broken and the ones still working were patchy. I walked the street’s length cloaked in darkness, with only the occasional circle of orange piercing the gloom. Looking over my shoulder I could see the pillars of light of the Canary Wharf skyscrapers, visible over the rooftops. We were close to the river, even if I couldn’t see it, and as I walked I heard the mournful sound of a boat’s horn echoing off the water. Ragged clouds covered most of the sky, their cover blending with the glow of the streetlights to hide the stars. As I reached the van one of the front windows slid down, and the street was quiet enough that I could hear the purr of the motor. I stopped by the door and looked at the man sitting inside. “Could you po