Thrice Cursed Mage

My name is Mac Brennan and that's the only thing I can remember about myself. Not why I woke up in a dumpster. Not why my right arm is as black as pitch and covered in glowing red tattoos, and certainly not why a vicious death cult is after me. Actually, that last part isn't true. I know why the death cult is after me. It's because I saved that damned girl from them. I didn't know who she was at the time, but I'd have done it anyway. I just don't like it when girls get beat up, call me old fashioned. Still, I can tell she's hiding something behind those devilish eyes, and if I want to find out what it is, I'll have to help her. My name is Mac Brennan. I have no memory, and I'm a werewolf-hunting, hellfire-flinging version of Faust himself.

Pierce Ambrose. That was the name of the man I'd been sent to kill. The man I'd failed to kill. I have one day left to make good on my contract before the thugs holding my sister and her son start sending me pieces of them. Pierce Ambrose. A man with a secret I didn't uncover until it was too late to turn back, too late to give up on trying to kill him. Now, if I want to see my sister and nephew again, I have to try one last time. My name is Mac Brennan, and this time, I'm playing for keeps.