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

by J. P. Rice

  “This is Fukutama’s house. It’s at the top of that ladder. I have to warn you about something first.” Felix messed up his hair, something I’d never seen him do before. Dressed plainly in black jeans and a gray hoodie, I assumed he didn’t want his mentor to know how flashy he was.

  “What would that be?”

  “Get climbing. We’ll talk along the way.” Felix pulled the door shut.

  I started up the ladder in complete darkness. The rungs kept hitting my hands every time I reached up.

  Felix said, “He doesn’t speak. They cut out his tongue many years ago, so we communicate differently.”

  I wanted to ask who cut out his tongue. But I didn’t know if Fukutama was eavesdropping. I said, “Okay, so he writes everything down. That’s no big deal.”

  “Not exactly. We speak using our thoughts,” Felix’s words echoed around the cavernous trunk. “It might look a little strange, even for someone like you who’s seen it all. You can still ask me questions that I will relay to him, but you won’t really be able to ask him directly.”

  “That’s fine. You can be my translator. We just need to know what that scrap of paper says.” I kept climbing, unsure of how high we were because of the darkness.

  “I’m pretty sure it’s Japanese writing.”

  “Then why can’t you translate it?” I asked.

  “Because I’ve been busy battling demons and evil spirits.” He spoke defensively. “That shit takes time, bro.”

  Finally, someone who understood where I was coming from. “I totally get it. I wish I could research my past and my roots more than I get to, as well. These jobs don’t give us much free time.”

  Felix agreed, “Tell me about it.”

  I started getting dizzy and asked, “How far up am I going?”

  Felix answered, “Just keep climbing. You’ll know when we get there.”

  I got nauseated as we climbed further toward the heavens. My stomach churned like a cement mixer. Reaching up for the next rung, emptiness filled my hand. “There’s no more rungs above me.”

  “Look to your right.”

  Turning slowly while keeping a firm grip on the ladder rung, I found a door with a round knob made of wood. Felix said, “Turn that and push. Just walk inside after that.”

  Taking his advice, I opened the door. I made the small jump onto firm ground and pushed the door open all the way. A hand grabbed my wrist near the doorknob. Then I felt pressure in my armpit and before I knew it, I was flying head over heels. My back crashed into the wooden floor below and the wind rushed out of me.

  Wheezing on my back, I saw an older Japanese man standing over me, cocking his fist back. His right fist burst into flames and he started to throw the punch. Oh great, a flamethrower. Still dazed, I wouldn’t be able to avoid his flying fist.

  Felix yelled from the door. “He’s with me, sensei.”

  The old man peered at Felix with a look of disgust. The young mage responded, “Sorry. I forgot to mention I was bringing a guest.”

  I made it to my knees and said, “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

  Felix had trouble hiding his smile. “I just wanted you to understand the power of Fukutama.”

  “You could have just told me.” I made it to my feet and faced the silent wizard. I bowed deeply, trying to make sure my head went lower than his. After nearly falling over due to the persisting dizziness, I righted myself and shook away all the cobwebs.

  The short, squat man in front of me was nothing less than intimidating. I was about a foot taller than him and probably fifty years his junior, but it would be foolish to judge this man based on his size and age. Complex magic vines were slipping out of his silk robe.

  He sported a long, black handlebar mustache that hung to the middle of his chest. It matched his long, pointed goatee. His long dark hair formed a unique man bun. The hair close to his scalp was as black as night and twisted into a bright vermilion bun with a green silk tie holding everything in place. It was the first badass and stylish man bun I’d ever seen. His blue robe with white trim and matching belt hid a powerful body.

  He walked across the big open room to a table in the corner. I stood in the most glorious tree house of all time and took a piney whiff of fresh wood. It had to be about fifty square feet, which doesn’t sound like much until you were this high above solid ground.

  The room held low tables, a futon couch and a hammock. Bookshelves holding ancient literature were crafted into the wall. A guy could get a lot of thinking done up here. My kind of place.

  Fukutama threw a glowing green object into a bamboo mortar and picked up a jade pestle. Using the club-like pestle, he mashed the green object around and a fresh fabric softener smell danced in my nostrils. It smelled like the good weed I used to smoke.

  Fukutama picked up a bamboo pipe almost the length his arm and packed the bowl.

  Felix explained, “This helps us get in the zone for our conversations. You’re welcome to hit it too, if you want.”

  “Thanks for the offer, but those days are behind me.” I hadn’t smoked in years. The Celtic Gods had even given me a pill to force me to stop my drinking. They said that if I drank, the pill would cause me to lose my magical powers. So I was clean as a whistle now. I wondered if drugs would force me to lose my magic too. It wasn’t the time to find out.

  Fukutama had Felix light the herb, and he puffed away. Smoke floated around his head and shoulders, hiding his facial features. The wizard let out a loud exhale that engulfed the room in smoke. By the time they had each taken a few hits, I was getting a contact high and fanned the smoke away.

  Felix and Fukutama sat cross-legged on the floor across from each other. I popped a squat off to the side, ready to find out what that scrap of paper said. The two men stared at each other in silence. Neither man appeared to blink. Felix’s eyes suddenly rolled back into his head and I expected him to fall on his face.

  However, the mage slowly nodded his head, apparently signaling that he was locked into the mental conversation with Fukutama. He looked quite freaky with all white eyes. Fukutama’s eyes remained unblinking.

  “He asked me why we came here,” Felix relayed. “I’m here because we have something we need you to read for us.”

  “I didn’t go to someone else because I’m not sure what it says,” Felix spoke like a cranky child. “If it says something that should be held secret, I don’t want a translator out there raising Cain.”

  “I’ve got it right here.” Felix dug into his pocket and pulled out the paper. He slid it across the smooth wooden floor. Fukutama snatched up the scrap of paper and perused it.

  Felix translated, “It says The Lost Underworld. Then below that it says, Naruto number 1.”

  I asked, “What exactly does that mean? I’ve heard about a comic book store called The Lost Underworld.”

  Felix said, “He doesn’t know what it means other than exactly what it says.”

  Perhaps something in that issue related to our mystery. “I guess I have to go check out that comic book. I’ve heard of Naruto but I’m not familiar with the details of that issue. Are you?”

  Felix answered for himself, “Nope. I don’t know why this one would be important or why it has a particular store name. I don’t think Naruto number one is super rare. Most decent comic stores would have a copy. I think most of them sell for less than a twenty.”

  I avoided eye contact with Felix as he focused his attention back on Fukutama. He went back to talking like an angry child. “I’m being a good guy. I don’t know what you think you are seeing, but I’m trying my best.”

  A few moments of silence ensued, until Felix spoke defensively, “Let’s talk about that another time. I can explain that. And I’ve been studying some Japanese lately. That’s how I knew what the writing was on that scrap of paper.”

  Felix’s face turned bright red and his chest heaved in and out with his deep breaths. He said in an argumentative tone, “At least I could recognize the lang
uage. Don’t I at least get credit for that? You know how busy I am with all the supernatural protection.”

  Another thirty seconds of silence passed and Felix said, “I’m not in it just for the money. You know better. I like to help people. We have to talk about this nonsense another time. I need to leave.” A few moments passed, and Felix yelled, “I’m not lying to you.”

  The mage started shaking violently, and I wondered if his head was about to spin around. He blinked rapidly, tears streaming down his cheeks and his pupils and irises returned to their normal positions. “Let’s get out of here. He’s just trying to yell at me now.”

  I didn’t like being stuck in the middle of this and tried to be a moderator. “Maybe he is just giving you advice.”

  “I’ve known him since I was a kid.” He gestured toward Fukutama with his thumb. “He’s acting like an a-hole.”

  I thanked Fukutama and bowed again. Despite his apparent argument with Felix, he smiled widely and kept nodding to me.

  That had ended strangely.

  With Alayna watching Dante, I decided to stop at the comic book store on the way home.

  Chapter 4

  The Lost Underworld had obtained its name because it was located in the basement of an old post office building. The top floor was an insurance company, but the back entrance took you directly to the haven for nerds.

  I’d never been there, but Gary, the owner, had a wide selection with some extremely rare comics to boot. I’d never met him before, but he had contacted me a few times about doing appearances at the store. Thinking about it, they would probably be more up Felix’s alley.

  I pulled into the gravel parking lot around back of the brick and mortar building. No cars. Surprising for a popular shop. I got out and surveyed the area. Behind the parking lot, a ten-foot high metal fence ran along the tree line of the woods. I scanned back and forth to make sure no one was lurking. All clear. I wondered where the owner or employees parked as I headed for the shop.

  As I walked down the metal steps, I hesitated for a moment. I hadn’t taken into consideration the possibility of a setup inside the store. What if the clean parking lot was just to draw in the person who found that paper? What if someone had left it behind on purpose?

  My hands started to sweat, but I figured it was too late now and descended the steps. Turning back would be even shadier than going inside now. As I opened the door, it triggered the Darth Vader theme song, aka The Imperial March. Cool. I entered the store and my heart rate jumped.

  What an awesome place. Immediately to my right stood a seven-foot-tall lifelike replica of Iron Man. Signed and framed Marvel movie posters decorated the walls. My recent financial windfall made me want to buy everything in the entire place.

  Calming down my inner nerd, I focused on the mission at hand. Three people were shopping in the store and a clerk who could also be the owner sat near a cash register reading a comic. Where had all these people parked? Nobody came across as suspicious in the traditional sense, but in my world, everyone was suspicious.

  I worked my way around the maze of shelves. It seemed like they carried every comic ever printed. My head buzzed with excitement, proving that I didn’t need to drink to catch a buzz. They organized the comics by universe and I had trouble locating a Japanese or Asian section.

  I didn’t want to ask anyone about it in case the other customers were in on the setup. The college-aged trio smelled like weed and cologne. In that order. Not likely that they were magic practitioners, but I couldn’t clear them yet.

  As I continued to scour, I kept an eye on the man behind the counter. Still engrossed in his comic book. Check.

  I came to the end of one aisle. Bingo. Naruto comic books. I casually leafed through the disorganized placement. Checking the series on either side of Naruto, I noticed that they were in perfect order. Why was this series mixed up?

  Issue number nine sat in front, but there were previous issues behind it. Seemed strange for an organized comic store. I plucked out issue number one and skimmed through the pages. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary and I thought for a moment. Was the clue embedded somewhere in the issue as a secret word or phrase? A code?

  Nothing jumped out at me so I put it back and kept looking. As I flipped through the series, another first issue showed up and I pulled it off the shelf. I looked through that and found nothing. There were only about ten more Naruto comics to go through and I wondered if this clue had anything to do with the kidnapping. It could be a shopping list for all I knew.

  With only three comics to go, another first issue appeared. I slid the perfect copy out and this one felt heavier than the others. Noticing a lump in the middle of the book, I peered around the store. The stoners were near the door poking Iron Man and laughing. The clerk shot a leery eye in their direction, preparing to yell at them if they persisted.

  With everyone distracted, I opened the comic to the middle. Page 32 had a folded map taped to it. Now we were talking. I slammed the book shut and headed for the counter. I slid the book onto the counter, but the clerk didn’t budge a millimeter and continued reading his book.

  After a few uncomfortable moments, he lazily picked up the scanner and ran it across the UPC. He swiped a plastic bag hanging on the wall behind him and shook it out.

  I said, “I don’t need a bag. I can carry it.”

  “No problem. Twenty-two fifty.”

  As I reached into my pocket, a tattooed hand landed on the comic. Turning over my right shoulder, I saw a short man who, oddly enough, appeared Japanese. He said, “I really need this book. I will gladly pay for another copy if you would be so kind.”

  How the fuck had this guy sneaked in here? Why hadn’t I heard the Darth Vader music? I faced the smaller man wearing a brown trench coat and a black derby hat pulled down low, the brim almost covering his eyes. I told him, “I really want this one. Sorry. But like you said, there’s more of them to buy.” I handed the clerk thirty dollars.

  He pounded a few keys on the digital cash register and the tray popped open with a ching. The clerk stuffed the money into the register and handed me the change. The man in the trench coat followed me to the door.

  As I put my hand on the door, he said, “I don’t think you understand, I really need that comic. I am prepared to pay you a hundred dollars for it.”

  “No thanks. Money doesn’t mean that much to me.” I pulled the door open just enough so that I could get out and sneaked outside.

  The man turned sideways and wedged his way through the door. “What is it you desire? Name it and I will make it so.”

  I held up the comic. “This is what I want, and this is what I have. So I’m good.”

  He shook his head slowly, never breaking eye contact. “You’re making a big mistake. You should really rethink your position.”

  “I seem to have a bad habit about making mistakes. It always works out in the end, though.” I stared into his dark eyes, and said, “Good day, sir.” I turned my back on him and headed for my car.

  I heard my new friend traipsing up the steps behind me. My car was still the only one in the lot. Where had this guy parked? I was within five feet of my car when the man screamed, “You’ve given me no choice.”

  I spun around and the man tore away the trench coat and threw it aside in dramatic fashion. Red robes clung to his powerful body and he scratched his cheek with a long black claw on his index finger.

  I drew my magic to the surface and prepared to open a can of whoopass. Big gulp size.

  The sun crept out from behind a cloud and shone down on the bleached bones wrapped around his forearms. They looked like the ribcages of small animals. He wore cross sections of a fanged animal’s lower jaw as shoulder pads. His bright blue irises shifted to ice, matching the surrounding sclerae and creating a creepy look.

  A strange blue aura surrounded the man despite his bright red attire. He said, “Give me that comic.”

  I backed up quickly, opened the door to my car, tossed the co
mic on the driver’s seat and focused on the crazy man. A Jeep Wrangler pulled into the driveway with reggae blaring. The driver immediately lowered the music and his friends screamed, “Get the fuck out of here. Now.”

  Admittedly, the man’s appearance was quite scary. Not bad enough to scare me. I’d seen much worse. As the driver pulled a twenty-point turn while his friends yelled at him, the robed man and I circled each other.

  The beginning of a fight was always tense. I never knew what kind of magic to use against an unknown opponent. I hoped that line of thinking was reciprocal right now.

  The man tipped his cap so that it was resting on the crown of his head. Hidden beneath a mess of dark hair, the man sported a strange white scar in the center of his forehead. He squinted and said, “You’ve killed someone you loved. A few people actually.”

  What? How did this stranger know that? Before I could dwell on the matter, the man drew back his fist to throw a punch. I wondered what he was doing considering I stood about five feet away. The man’s fist snapped forward and his arm stretched like elastic, rapidly closing in on me.

  The fist connected with my chest and knocked me backward, causing me to do a backwards somersault. As I tried to make it back to my feet, the man paced toward my car. I stood up and paused to catch my balance and my breath.

  The sound of shattering glass caused me to jerk my neck toward my car. The man had his fist inside my car and broken glass showered down. I raced over before he could grab the comic book.

  I grabbed the robes covering the back of his neck and threw the lighter man across the parking lot. Screaming in pain in a language I assumed was Japanese, he jumped back to his feet, and said, “You have done some despicable things in your day. You fool yourself into thinking that you are a good person. Fool.”

  Where was this man getting his information from? I couldn’t let it bother me right now in the middle of a fight. But it did.

  The man cocked his fist back again, and I got ready to dodge this effort. Instead, a flash of lightning circled around his closed hand. He opened his hand and a jolt of electricity sprang from his palm. The bolt of lightning hummed through the air, heading for my chest. I twisted my body to the side to avoid contact, but a flash of electricity hit my bicep.