by J. P. Rice
The Maxima, my Maxima coasted to a stop on the long green grass. Who the fuck had my car? I squinted my eyes and peered through the back window at a fiery mop of red hair in the driver’s seat. Burn.
Kobayashi ran over to attend to his fallen wife. He tried to put her face back together, but it had been smashed worse than the Red Viper’s. I almost felt bad until I remembered the mission.
I conjured up two purple fireballs. My redemption for Alayna started right now by ending this nonsense. I coalesced the burning globes until they were as tight and compact as I wanted. With an underhand sling, I released the orbs. The orbs hummed through the air as they cruised toward Kobayashi.
The heartbroken sorcerer didn’t even turn around. The softball sized flames ripped through both of Kobayashi’s shoulders. His severed arms fell on top of Tamamo no Mae and he cried out in agony. I ran over to him.
Kobayashi was turning toward me when I lowered my body and shoved him down. I quickly got him on his back and pushed my pointer and middle finger into his third eye. I didn’t need him pulling any shit with that now.
A weird gushy sound made me ill, but also caused the eye to come loose. The eyeball popped out of the socket, dangling by the optic cord. I ran my hands down to his throat and called on the Dagda again to borrow some more strength as I increased the pressure on his neck. “Take away the curse you set on Cyclone Woman, or I’ll kill you.”
Spoiler alert: I was going to kill him regardless.
Kobayashi spoke in Japanese, but it sounded like his mouth was full. He finished talking and something poked out of his teeth and lips. I pulled out the small object that looked like a tiny doll.
Undaunted, I kept choking him as his eyes bulged and the veins pumped on his temples. He said something in Japanese, his eyes rolled back into his head and he went still. After his first revival, I decided to keep choking him to make sure he was dead.
Twenty seconds later, I was convinced and let go. I picked up the small doll and planned to ask Fukutama about it later.
As I stood up, Burn staggered through the opening she had created in the back of the barn. She smiled, and asked, “Did I do good?”
“Good? Yes. Reckless? Yes. Am I glad you did it? Yes.” I nodded with a shit-eating grin on my face.
I ran over and hugged her as Dante climbed through the shattered wood opening. “What? Why would you bring him on something like this?”
“I wasn’t going to leave him home. Plus he could help.”
Dante ran toward the bodies. “Whoa. Did you cut this guy’s arms off? That’s awesome.”
Feeling like I was forgetting something, I said, “No. It’s not awesome. Get back over here. We need to leave.”
Oh, that was it. In all the excitement, I’d forgotten about Cyclone Woman. I turned to the side of the barn and there she was, shell shocked, standing against the wall. She probably didn’t know she could trust me.
I walked slowly toward her. “I’m going to help you get rid of the curse so that you can take control of the weather again.”
She simply nodded in silence.
I helped her get out to my car, which was battered and tainted with blood, but still drivable. We raced over to the hospital to meet up with Felix and the rest of the crew. Cyclone Woman didn’t speak the entire ride. She just nodded at my questions. Either she’d suffered an injury like Fukutama or she didn’t speak English.
As I turned into the parking lot, I spotted Felix’s hearse and pulled up next to it.
I called Felix and a few minutes later, he appeared with Glenda by his side. As he approached my car, his eyes widened. “What the hell happened to your car?”
“Long story, but let’s just say that Kobayashi and Tamamo no Mae weren’t dead when we thought they were. But I had a little help from my friend.” I smiled at Burn. “Is Fukutama all right?”
Felix said, “Yeah, he’s going to be fine.”
“How about you, soldier?” I directed the question at Glenda, who was back in human form with a new change of clothes.
She shrugged her shoulders and smirked. “I’m just fine. I should have stayed to help you out. You look pretty fried.”
In the past, I would have considered that a compliment. It now had a literal meaning. “Ahh, no more than usual. We need the Blood Goblet for Cyclone Woman.”
“No problem.” Felix dug into his pocket and pulled out his keys. He opened the back door of his vehicle and I walked closer to him.
I extended the talisman to Felix. “I need you to ask Fukutama about this. Kobayashi had it in his mouth when we were brawling and I took it from him. Can you ask him what it is?”
“Sure,” he said, and snagged the little doll from me. He tucked it into his suit pocket and unzipped a backpack on the seat. He picked up the Goblet and handed it to me.
I clawed at the plastic wrap covering it, and after a little trouble, I pried it loose. The blood released an awful odor and I quickly extended my arm to Cyclone Woman. She grabbed the Goblet with two trembling hands and moved the cup toward her lips.
She took a whiff and closed her eyes. She swallowed a few times seemingly steeling herself for the act. As she titled the Goblet, some of the black blood spilled out the corners of her mouth and ran down onto her neck.
She took a drink and handed the Goblet back to me. Using the back of her hand, she wiped away the excess blood around her mouth. She convulsed and appeared like she was going to vomit, but she held it down.
“Did it work?” I asked quizzically.
Cyclone Woman cracked her neck and closed her eyes. Three feet in front of her an opaque object began to take shape. It got darker in color and grew in size until it took the form of a raincloud. A steady drizzle came out of the dense cloud that hovered eight feet above ground. The cloud danced from left to right before it zoomed over and stopped right above my head.
Cyclone Woman opened her eyes, smiled shyly at me and covered her mouth. She snapped her fingers and the cloud disappeared. Everyone was a comedian, huh?
I dropped off Dante and Burn at home and drove my smashed-up vehicle up to Tionesta to take Cyclone Woman home. She stopped me as we approached the entrance to the underground cave. As she walked up to me with her hands out, I wondered what she was doing. She hadn’t spoken, which made me wonder if she couldn’t speak or didn’t know English. Either way, she hadn’t uttered a single syllable in any of our encounters.
She leaned closer and wrapped her arms around me. I pulled her in for a tighter hug and cupped the back of her neck and head with my hand. It felt like time had stopped and I could feel her heartbeat against my chest. A Native American spirit and a flawed mortal man. Connected by fate. Frozen in time.
She broke the embrace, waved to me by wiggling her fingers and disappeared into the darkness of the cave.
Chapter 31
As I sat in a surgical room in Clara Spiritus waiting for my operation, I thought about the past week. Another case had been solved and the citizens of the Pittsburgh area were safe again. For now.
Cyclone Woman had returned home and assumed control of the weather again. Terry had undertaken to feed her daily. I still felt terrible about Black Hoof and his family and everyone who had died before I could save Cyclone Woman. It always bothered me. The what if factor. What if I’d just solved that case a little faster? Who would still be alive?
I had paid Glenda and Felix for their work. We made a nice little trio and I could see us going into battle together again. I gave Glenda a nice fat bonus especially since I knew where most of it would go. I’d even made an anonymous donation to the battered women’s shelter. After what I’d witnessed from my father growing up, it was a cause I could really get behind.
Fukutama was going to be just fine. Felix was brimming when I’d paid him because he felt that he’d finally gotten the respect from his mentor that he craved.
After the surgery I was going to dig up Reg and figure out how to bring him back to life. I wanted to ask Jonathan for he
lp more than anything, but it would cause a major strain in our relationship. If Jonathan turned on me, it meant all the vampires in Pittsburgh would turn on me. That was dangerous turf to navigate safely.
Fukutama had told Felix that the talisman I had taken from Kobayashi placed a curse on the recipient’s children. Since Dante wasn’t my biological child, I hoped he was safe. I had to figure out a way to track down the sorcerer’s soul or spirit before Burn had my baby. Our baby.
As for her and Dante, we were getting along well. Burn and I hadn’t rekindled our romance, but it was nice having something that resembled a family. Hell, in these times, this situation was more normal than not. We were looking at houses outside Pittsburgh with a nice, big yard for Colossus and Dante to play in.
With all that going on, there was still one thing that gnawed at my heart constantly. I needed to get the implant out and rescue Alayna. I yearned for redemption with her and Reg. I could still salvage my soul.
The anesthesia kicked in and soon my vision went blurry and my body began to go numb. Dian Cécht and his daughter, Airmed, entered the room. The bright room consisted of a patient chair, a few other chairs on wheels, a gigantic computer screen and a tray of surgical instruments.
Airmed helped me into the strange seat. I leaned forward and slid into the contraption designed like a chiropractor’s massage chair. I rested my forehead on the soft foam support and stared out of my peripheral vision to see the doctor.
The God of Healing wore light gray clothing similar to O.R. scrubs. The man had short gray hair, welcoming blue eyes, a big, crooked nose and not a whisker on his face or neck. His wrinkled forehead helped to give him the appearance of a gentle grandfather.
Dian Cécht pulled his chair closer to my leg. He stared into a computer screen as he positioned the camera near the implant. Airmed handed him a scalpel that he held close to my calf. In one swift move, he traced his hand over the implant area and made the incision. Burgundy blood oozed from the cut and Airmed dabbed it up with a white sponge.
Dian Cécht exchanged the scalpel for a long silver device that was thick on one end and narrow on the other. The God of physicians shoved the small end into the opening. Working off the computer screen, he moved the device around. Airmed came over and moved my head, so I couldn’t peek at the procedure anymore.
Dian Cécht continued to work, and said, “Come on. Just a little closer...and...there it is.” He took a few deep breaths. “Now is the moment of truth.”
The physicians had figured out that contact with the air would cause the implant to explode. Dian Cécht had created a medical device that would extract the implant into a gel that would never expose it to the air. However, it was still an experimental procedure. Anything could happen.
I moved my head around until I could see again. Dian Cécht slowly removed the device and closed his eyes. One by one his eyes opened, and the corners of his lips curled up. Success.
Airmed moved my head again and I closed my eyes. I said, “Thank you so much. Now I can save Alayna.”
“Yes, about that,” said Dian Cécht. “You will need to have another procedure so that you can go to Hell and secure Cerberus’s tooth.”
“What procedure do I need for that?” I wondered aloud as I lifted my head and looked at the God of Healing.
Dian Cécht stood up from his chair, raised one eyebrow and informed me, “It has been said that there are six million ways to die. You will need to choose one, so that you can gain entry into Hell.”
Clipped Wings
Bloodline Awakened Supernatural Thriller Series
Book 3
J.P. Rice
Copyright 2018 by Jason Paul 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.
Cover Art by Ljiljana Romanovic
Chapter 1
My best friend’s nonresponsive body lay on a raised table in my basement. Searching for a source of inspiration, I peered around the unfinished room that consisted of a few worktables, some miscellaneous boxes from just moving in and two small cabinets of work tools. Then my eyes landed back on my shirtless friend whom I desperately wanted to revive. Would it work this time?
I had tried to bring him back to life four times. Each attempt had resulted in disastrous failure. Technically, he was still alive, but he hadn’t moved a muscle or breathed in weeks. Being a vampire, his immortality helped him cling onto life. Thankfully, that also meant the body hadn’t started to stink yet.
Reginald Danforth’s body had been buried underground for nearly a fortnight, yet I knew he wasn’t dead. He just needed someone to revive him after I’d driven a wooden stake into his chest, apparently narrowly missing his heart.
My six-hundred-year-old vampire friend and leader of the Purple House, Jonathan, could definitely bring him back to life, but I couldn’t ask him for help.
I’d already lied to him and said that I didn’t know where Reg’s body was. If I came clean now, it would effectively end our friendship. If that happened, all the vampires in Pittsburgh would turn against me. Hell, some already wanted me dead. This would be the perfect excuse they were looking for.
Jonathan valued me tremendously because I was plugged into the supernatural scene in Pittsburgh. I sometimes knew things that he didn’t. However, the man hated to be lied to more than anything.
If he found out I was lying to him about a fellow member of his Purple Clan, it would be curtains. I already had enough supernatural enemies and didn’t want to add the vampires to that list.
I had one last trick up my sleeve to revive my friend. Electricity. The jump start should get his heart working again. And if that didn’t work, I was fresh out of ideas.
My hands started to charge up, gaining electrical particles and trapping them in my palms. Rubbing them together, I felt the warm buzz that would hopefully bring Reg back to life.
I moved closer to the table and let my hands hover over his chest as I studied him up and down. This would allow me to spot any differences after I hit him with the surge. I clapped and held my hands still, then started rubbing my palms back and forth, increasing the pressure gradually.
Blue sparks jumped from my digits and burned bright before fizzling out and disappearing. We were ready. I positioned my hands so that they covered his entire heart. I took a deep breath to steady my shaky hands.
Pushing down hesitantly, I made light contact with Reg’s chest and yanked my hands away. He bounced up from the table due to the force of the shock, landing back down and rolling off the raised table. Quickly dissolving my electric hands, I grabbed him near the shoulder and shoved his dead weight back onto the table. His arm flopped up onto the table, his open hand almost slapping me across the face.
By the time I got him onto his back again, he looked the exact same. Dead. Thinking I could have shoved my hands down faster to give him a full charge, I started rubbing my hands together again. Using the backs of my hands and forearms, I pushed him into the exact center of the rectangular table to stop him from falling off.
Pulses of blue electricity danced around my palms as I held them over Reg’s chest. I steeled my nerves. Even though he was nonresponsive, and this was designed to save his life, it wasn’t easy blasting a good friend with electricity.
I shoved down with force this time and Reg’s body jumped up again, this time landing flat on his back. His eyelids moved. Slightly. I waited with bated breath for his eyes to flutter open, but the infinitesimal movement stopped.
My eyes raced up and down his body, searching for the slightest twinge. Hope faded as I looked at the same body, still as a statue. I’d failed to revive my friend again
and I was running out of new methods to try.
I decided to clean up and join Burn and Dante upstairs. Most people couldn’t fathom leaving a best friend’s body in the basement. For me, it was just a Tuesday. I’d been through a hell of a lot in the past few years, things that I never thought imaginable. I covered up the body with some sheets and joined my family for a backyard funeral.
I grabbed the key out of my pocket with my left hand and locked the basement door, jiggling it to make sure it was secure. I didn’t need anyone stumbling into that mess.
I’d received word that Alayna was dead two days ago. The news had obviously hit me hard and I couldn’t help but feel completely responsible. My chance at redemption with her had crumbled before my very eyes. She was like a mother, a mentor and so much more. And I had tossed her to the wolves.
Felix had constructed a tribute to Alayna in the form of a pair of fairy wings that beat perpetually. They were solar powered and charged up during the day to maintain a constant flapping motion. We set it up in my new backyard in the country. The swirling design was mainly purple and ivory, the two colors that Alayna loved.
Burn and I had found a farm out in Indianola. Nothing crazy. Just a normal barn-style house and some outbuildings. Plenty of land surrounded by the woods. Way off the beaten path. Just what I needed.
I was sick of all the death. At twenty-three, I’d seen too much pain and suffering. Too much loss. It was time to tell the Celtic Gods that I was going to take a step back from being the magical guardian of Pittsburgh. I’d had enough.