Bloodline World Seven Book Bundle: 7 Books from the Bloodline Awakened Series and Scarlet Dragon Saga

by J. P. Rice

  So why was I feeling so torn up inside? It was like part of me was dying, but maybe that was a good thing. Maybe all the bad tendencies and shortcomings that were caused by my father will die too. Perhaps I had to do this, so I could finally have closure on the whole thing.

  Pittsburgh was safe from the Sendal Spirits. I took comfort in the fact that nobody else would die. For now. Panic ran through me again remembering that I needed to get that knife back from Aka Manah or it would be my life.

  We kept running through the streets, and I couldn’t believe our tiny crew, aided by the demons, took out a powerful entity like the Sendal Spirits. I was still in shock that the Jersey Devil and Aka Manah showed up to help us out. I grabbed Satoku’s hand and kissed it, glad that this was all over with.

  Chapter 29

  A fortnight later, I watched the work crew pull out the tiny headstone and replace it with one worthy of my mother. I knew Jonathan had connections so I had asked him to find one for me, and my vampire friend ended up paying for it. It wasn’t terrible having a rich vampire who liked to give away lavish gifts.

  The four-foot onyx headstone with an ivory angel sitting on top had letters chiseled into it that were filled with gold.

  IN DEDICATION OF:

  BRIGHID PARKER BOYLE MERLINO

  DEDICATED WIFE

  LOVING MOTHER

  PRECIOUS SOUL

  I laid a dozen roses on her grave and knew that my mother would be proud of me. That meant everything. That was why I lived my life. For her.

  Alayna stood on my left and Satoku on my right. Being a Soul Searcher, my girlfriend could see the faerie, but none of the workers could.

  We had defeated the Sendal Spirits, but there wasn’t a guarantee they wouldn’t form again and come back to Pittsburgh. I thought about the recent events.

  Carolyn had made it to the airport safely and I got paid sixty grand for “protecting her.” I felt sad, especially for Reg, who didn’t meet many ladies, as they were a good couple. I had a feeling Reg would be meeting many lady vamps in his new lifestyle.

  Reg was an official member of the Purple Clan of Vampires now, which complicated our relationship. Jonathan had called me to ask me about Reg and I told him the truth. I told the elder vamp what a great guy Reg was and how he’d make a nice addition to the clan. It wasn’t easy, but sometimes you’ve got to let go.

  Jonathan sold the Dybbuk Boxes at auction for a pretty penny. I took the proceeds and gave two thousand dollars to Rebecca and Roy Lint for donating the boxes in the first place. I added the rest to the sixty grand.

  The insurance claim on my office worked out so I didn’t have to worry about that. I took some money out of the kitty and got my car fixed. I bought Satoku a new car because her insurance didn’t cover crazy acts of risen stone men and I felt a tad responsible since I had unleased the red spirit. Nothing fancy, but it’ll get her around town. I also paid the next six months’ rent on my house and office to Alayna.

  I know, I know, all this frivolous spending to show off the glamourous life of a wizard.

  That left eighty-five thousand dollars up for grabs. I had thought about getting a new car, taking a vacation, putting a down payment on a house, updating my sad wardrobe, purchasing a warehouse of Jameson or making my office look more like Jonathan’s. Then I had debated starting a savings account.

  But none of that was me. I’m a simple wizard who loves the song Simple Man. I had stuffed a few bucks into a savings account before I realized what I needed to do with the cash. I had made an anonymous donation to my Cancer Support Group for members to use for treatment or living expenses. Fighters normally lost their jobs or had to take extended periods away from work while battling with cancer.

  It was the only logical choice.

  I talked to Felix the other day and we agreed to help each other out in the future, much to the glee of my girlfriend.

  As for Satoku, I’m just glad that she was safe again and we were back together.

  And for yours truly, the clock is ticking on whether I can get that enchanted knife back from Aka Manah and the demons of the Red Cavern before I die. The Gods had given me one month to return the knife or they will be forced to inflict their justice. I’m hoping nothing else pops up that will sidetrack me on that mission, but we all know how that goes.

  THE BLOODLINE AWAKENED SUPERNATURAL THRILLER SERIES 3 BOOK BUNDLE: BOOKS 1-3

  J.P. RICE

  Copyright 2018 by Jason Paul Rice (J.P. Rice)

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. All names are made up and used fictionally. Any resemblance to real people is completely coincidental. Any resemblance to real events is only part of the author’s imagination.

  Chapter 1

  My colleague Gretchen jammed her foot down on the gas pedal, and my head slammed into the back of the passenger seat. We drove toward the commotion in the city at seventy-five miles an hour. Straight ahead, plumes of thick smoke rose above the skyscrapers, billowing high into the overcast sky.

  With my window halfway down, I felt a warm breeze whistling through my blond hair, much too warm for winter in Pittsburgh. Newspaper pages floated through the air, several smacking the windshield right in front of me.

  Most people would run away from a doomsday vision like this. Not I said the wizard guy. I was Micheal (pronounced like the classic Michael) Merlino, the magical guardian of Pittsburgh. Appointed by the Celtic Gods. Cancer survivor. Descendant of Merlin the wizard. When I swam in the ocean, the sharks needed a cage. Not the other way around. At least that was how I felt when using my magic.

  Gretchen sped up and flicked on the windshield wipers to get rid of a stubborn sports section plastered against the glass. As we barreled down Route 28 in her police squad car through the eerie dark stillness that builds before a great storm, I asked, “Who unleashed the dragons on us?”

  “Sewer dragons,” clarified Lieutenant Gretchen Meyer of the Pittsburgh Police. Short and squat, Gretchen filled out her black uniform. Her sandy, shoulder-length hair bristled in the wind rushing in through the window. She ran the Division of the Occult, and over the past two years, she’d called me in for special missions.

  On top of that, she just happened to be my girlfriend’s mother and one hell of a ball buster. She loved to drive fast, evidenced by the back of my cranium pressed into the headrest and my foot nervously pressing invisible brakes.

  “Who brought the sewer dragons to Pittsburgh?” I asked as I allowed my magic to come out of the reservoir.

  She spoke in her cranky, matter of fact tone, “We don’t know. That’s why I picked you up. This is your specialty.”

  Out of nowhere, a black object slammed into the windshield, causing me to jump back in reaction. A black bird had cracked the glass and left a burgundy stain.

  Gretchen swerved into the right lane momentarily and slowly retook control of the car, moving back into our original lane. “What the hell was that?”

  I answered, “Must have been a big black bird.” A thick smear of blood slid slowly down the windshield until Gretchen flicked on the washer fluid and the steady stream worked with the moving wipers to wash away the red stain.

  I’d forgotten my window was down, allowing a lazy spray of chilly moisture to hit the side of my face. Nasty. Using the inside collar of my long sleeve shirt, I wiped the washer fluid and blood out of the thick dirty blond stubble on my cheek and noticed the bird had only left a small crack in the reinforced police windshield. A bird of death near the city made me want to get down there even faster.

  Traffic leaving the city and heading north was backed up for miles, but we appeared to have smooth sailing ahead. We hit the Fort Pitt Bridge and jumped on the North Shore exit. As soon as we merged onto Reedsdale Street, the white tailgate of an eighteen-wheeler appeare
d about twenty feet in front of us. Oh shit.

  Brakes squealed. Tires skidded. The back of the squad car fishtailed out of control, flailing back and forth.

  I gritted my teeth, my calf muscles tightened as I jammed my toes into the black mat covering the floor pan, and I held on tightly to the oh shit bar. Bracing for impact, I squinted and cringed.

  The vehicle slid perilously toward danger and came to a screeching halt with our front bumper about two inches short of crushing the huge truck’s metal undercarriage. Classic Gretchen. My bitter beer face returned to normal but my heart was still racing.

  I took a few deep, cleansing breaths. Glad to be alive and uninjured, I tried to analyze the situation.

  I opened the door and stood on the doorframe for a better look. Traffic jam from hell. Vehicles had clogged up the streets entering the heart of the city. I noticed a blinding glare of flashing red and blue lights in the distance, straight ahead.

  Only one option.

  Gretchen and I turned to one another. I shrugged my shoulders and replicated a walking motion with my index and middle finger. Nodding reluctantly and probably pissed she couldn’t turn on the siren or just plow through everyone, my impatient partner pulled the car onto the emergency lane on the side of the highway, put the vehicle in park, and turned it off. I took out my wallet and phone, put them in the glove box, jumped out of the car, and looked up.

  The skies were dark, with puffy storm clouds merging into one another, creating denser storm clouds. Normally clouds flowed in one direction with the wind current. Something wasn’t right.

  The air pressure felt unnatural, pushing down on my shoulders. Heavy. Suffocating. Squeezing me. Making it hard to breathe.

  The storm winds still hadn’t arrived at ground level, yet light pieces of debris floated in the thick air. Flashes of lightning threatened from a distance with just the slightest grumbling of thunder. The brewing storm made me uneasy as we fought against a frenetic exodus of citizens.

  We dodged cars and authorities, stepping between two police SUVs to get closer to the scene. Gretchen flipped her wallet open to expose her badge. I had no fancy badge to flash and looked out of place wearing jeans and a long sleeve shirt.

  Most of the officers knew me by now and understood I could be useful with these types of problems. The officers made an opening, and several slapped me on the back as I moved toward the front.

  We worked our way up to the intersection of 6th and Grant, a focal point of the evacuation, where an unorganized group of officers were trying to direct the fleeing citizens to safety but failing badly. I wondered how many other scenes around the perimeter of the city looked exactly like this. Twenty probably?

  As I stared into the madness dead ahead, the desperate sounds attacked me first. A colonnade of service vehicles was perched behind me, resting on the cusp of the action as their sirens moaned helplessly.

  From ahead, primal screaming pinballed off the buildings and funneled into an invisible megaphone. The resulting symphony of human sorrow raced down 6th Avenue and attacked my ears while clawing at my soul. They were the kinds of sounds that made you want to grab an icepick and poke out your eardrums just to make it stop.

  The enemy had attacked on a Wednesday morning, ensuring that the city would be full of employees. My innocent people needed help.

  Fast.

  It hurt my soul to know the citizens I’d been tasked with protecting were in trouble. A continuous stream of terrified people flooded out of the city. I’d seen evacuations like this in the movies, but to see the looks on the people’s faces as they sprinted by made it oh so real.

  Desperate expressions. Wide-eyed. Jaws dropped. Lips trembling. Streaming tears. Flushed cheeks and foreheads. Sweat building on brows. Terrified faces. It was pure chaos.

  From the evacuation straight ahead, a large silver object flew over my head. I ducked naturally and watched as it headed toward the service vehicles behind me, leaving a trail of red and yellow liquid in its path. The rectangular object with wheels sailed about twelve feet over my head and wrecked into the windshield of an ambulance.

  I assumed it was a hotdog cart from the hundreds of red and white checkerboard wax papers floating lazily through the air and the trail of condiments scattered like a Jackson Pollock painting on the pavement. The scent of ketchup, relish, mustard and the sweet yeast of hotdog buns lingered momentarily until something else hit my nostrils.

  The stink of meaty death hung heavy in the stale, choking air. Not in my fucking city. I woke up my inner beast with a forceful noogie. Time for some action. I was more than ready to battle two sewer dragons now.

  Gretchen patted an officer on the shoulder and said, “Riggins. I’ve got someone who can help. Do we know where the two sewer dragons are right now?”

  Officer Riggins turned his entire body around as if he had a stiff neck and his eyes landed on Gretchen. “Two? It’s a lot more than two.”

  That was all right. I could handle more than two. The officer continued, “Swanson said he saw two over on Liberty and 7th.”

  Four. I could handle four. The cop’s lips kept moving. “And Rodriguez said she had three of them over near the Point.”

  Seven. Fuck it. I could handle seven. Officer Riggins continued, “All told, it’s at least twenty by now. And these ones are apparently much bigger than the original two. All we’re trying to do now is get everyone out of the city alive. And it’s not going too well.”

  I couldn’t fight twenty of those beasts. Could I? Another rush of terrified citizens sprinted out of the city limits and toward us. Behind the wave of citizenry, a purple sewer dragon, blood dripping from its mouth, chased after the people. The massive yet lean creature lowered its head and snatched up a man wearing a suit.

  Fuck that. I drew my magic to the surface, took a few steps forward and thought about what techniques to use against these things.

  The dragon looked like a massive, scaly snake with a dragon-shaped head and gave off an odor of paint thinner. No arms, no legs, but it slithered around the pavement trying to maintain balance. The reflective amethyst shine of the scales glowed despite the overcast sky. The dragon’s glossy black eyes with horizontal white slashes focused on the man in its mouth. The beast rose, its massive head about ten feet above the pavement.

  “That’s the mayor,” one cop yelled. “Save the mayor. Shoot that son of a bitch.”

  “No,” I screamed. Luckily, nobody had fired. “The scales covering its body are like steel. The bullets are going to ricochet and hurt more people than help.”

  I weaved through the frightened crowd of authorities, finally emerging out of the pack. Most people ran away from these types of situations. I was the crazy wizard who headed straight into the fire. After the initial rush of desperate people being chased out by the sewer dragon bounced off me and dispersed in different directions, I stood alone.

  The mayor fought valiantly, attempting to escape the sewer dragon’s mighty maw. The dragon had hold of the mayor by his suit jacket and kept trying to pull him all the way into its mouth. As the dragon struggled with this attempt, I prepared to save the mayor.

  Calling on two fireballs, I held out each palm. Within moments, two globules of blue fire appeared and grew into the size of a softball. Searching for a compromised spot, I found a little opening at the bottom of the dragon’s mouth. I stared at the spot of fleshy skin, taking careful aim with the mayor’s body only inches away.

  Was I crazy?

  If I were to miss, the people would run me out of Pittsburgh for killing the mayor. But the sewer dragon was about to eat him. I had to take my chances.

  Internally, I recited a quick spell to make the fire ball undetectable. Take away the vision with precision to create a mighty collision.

  I reached back with my right arm. My wrist and forearm snapped forward and I released the now cannonball-sized spheroid of energy. The invisible ball that I could still see with my adjusted vision hurtled toward its target. The mayor thr
ashed around, causing his body to move in front of the compromised spot.

  No.

  No.

  I wanted to close my eyes as it cruised straight for the mayor’s chest. The outcome seemed inevitable. My fireball was going to kill the mayor. Biting my lip, I watched with trepidation.

  The sewer dragon jerked its neck to the side, whipping the mayor in the other direction. The invisible force (I could see the prism-like colors dancing around inside it) picked up speed toward the end and crashed into the tiny compromised spot of soft flesh, barely missing the mayor, but setting his red tie on fire.

  A shriek of pain reverberated off the city buildings, busting out the windows of the Omni William Penn Hotel and showering glass onto the frightened people exiting the city. It was like a heavy downpour of diamonds, twinkling despite the lack of sun rays, the deadly shards hidden among the shimmering beauty.

  The dragon let go of the mayor who fell ten feet to the ground and immediately clutched his knee. The injured dragon slunk away, leaving a trail of black blood as thick as dirty motor oil in its path. I dissolved the other fire ball and sprinted over to the mayor, putting out his smoking tie.

  Mayor Raymond Crenshaw writhed around on the pavement. He was probably in shock and in a great deal of pain, his suit jacket shredded, and his body covered in gooey slobber, but the dragon hadn’t devoured him. He rubbed his left knee and looked up at me, wincing in pain. He spoke in short bursts, “Thank you. I thought. I was. A dead man. How did...you do that?”

  Before I could answer, a herd of medical professionals closed in on the mayor, pulling me away. Gretchen approached me. “Nice work, Merlino. Way to save the mayor.” She gave me a silent clap.

  With the odds stacked against me as usual, I went with my modus operandi. Total recklessness with absolutely no regard for my own safety. I liked action and loved protecting my fellow citizens. It gave me a fatherly feeling to watch over everyone.