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

by J. P. Rice

  I’d felt like the Morrigan had taken advantage of my fragile mental state when she had pumped me full of dark and pure magic. I got a little enjoyment out of seeing her being tested. Especially by something she couldn’t just smash to pieces if she got frustrated.

  An evil smile developed on the Morrigan’s face, causing me to wonder what she was brewing up.

  She said, “Twenty seconds. Then you spill all the facts you know. Deal?”

  Gareth’s eyes twinkled. “It’s a deal. Hey, who’s a guy gotta sleep with to get a drink around here?”

  I smirked and poured some of my Jameson on Gareth’s blade. He made a slurping sound, and said, “Jameson, huh? Not bad. Not bad. Hey, Junipher, my lady.”

  “Yes, Sir Gareth.”

  “I need to talk to the DJ real quick.”

  I took Gareth over to the stage, held him next to the DJ’s ear and waited. The dagger screamed, “Okay, Junipher. Grab that microphone.”

  I plucked the mic from the DJ’s hand and we went back to the table. Gareth said, “Whenever you’re ready, Mo.”

  The Morrigan stared at the dagger, her raging red pupils dilating. “Hey. You aren’t allowed to call me that. Only she is. And she’s lucky I let her get away with it.”

  Gareth spoke properly, “Greatest of apologies, Lady Morrigan. Shall I drop to a knee to show proper respect?”

  “Shut up, you stupid knife,” said Mo, shaking her head.

  “Dagger,” Gareth corrected her.

  “Whatever. Twenty seconds,” the red-faced Morrigan said, rising to her feet. She widened her stance and stretched out her hamstrings by bouncing up and down and leaning to both sides.

  As she strolled toward the mechanical bull, Gareth said, “Turn the mic on. Now.”

  I flipped the little switch and held it close to Gareth. “Is everyone ready for the main attraction?”

  The bar erupted with cheering, as Gareth continued, “The woman headed toward that bull says she can stay on for twenty seconds. We might need help counting it out. Can you guys help out?”

  The bar screamed their support.

  Gareth said, “DJ. Hit me.”

  In an instant, a new song came blasting through the speakers and bass pumping vibrations reverberated around the bar and centered in my chest. Justinian put five dollars into the machine and waited for the Morrigan to get ready, so he could activate the bull. The Morrigan circled the machine, leaning down to inspect it.

  “Keep Your Hands to Yourself” by The Georgia Satellites blared through the bar, and everyone got onto their feet, clapping and stomping, waiting for the Morrigan’s ride. The Morrigan spun around in a circle, appearing overwhelmed by the crowd forming around her.

  The strobe lights kicked on and the Christmas lights began blinking. A smile came onto my face as I bobbed my head and clapped my hands to the rhythm of the beat. “Wooo. Let’s go, Mo. Kick his ass,” I shrieked over the music.

  The Goddess hooked her thick, long leg over the bull and tested her grip on the pommel. The saddleless brown bull with white spotting had a head with red eyes and golden longhorns. The words Bucking Bronco had been etched into its prominent left and right buttock respectively.

  Gareth screamed into the microphone, “Get ready, people. Take a drink and get ready. We start counting as soon as the bull starts moving.”

  I noticed beads of sweat glistening on the Morrigan’s forehead. A rare sight indeed. She gazed around the bar nervously and nodded to Justinian.

  The wolf pressed the start button, and the bull began bucking around. The Morrigan had her thunder thighs locked to the machine as the crowd started chanting.

  Chapter 24

  With the music thumping and Gareth leading the way on the mic, the crowd counted together. “One. Two. Three. Four. Five.”

  As the crowd continued counting, I noticed the Morrigan’s grip was faltering and her upper body listed to the right. The uneven motion of the bull jerked in the other direction, and she righted the ship. The bull bucked again, and her hand slipped from the pommel. As the machine rocked around, she stabbed her hand at the pommel to grab it again while trying desperately to remain on the bull.

  “Nine. Ten. Eleven.”

  The machine did a quick one-eighty and the Morrigan slid on the bull, her body being thrown to the left. As the music blared, and the Goddess struggled to stay on the robotic beast, I thought there was no way she would last twenty seconds.

  Golden bits of enchantment escaped from the Morrigan’s nostrils and sprinkled down the side of the bull. The gold dust worked its way into the underside of the bull and up into the mechanics. Was she using magic to stay on the bull?

  Over the raucous cheering, the crowd chanted, “Twelve. Thirteen.”

  Just as the Morrigan shifted violently and was about to fall off the bull, the harsh sound of grinding gears cut through the music. The herky-jerky bull coasted to a stop with the Morrigan still on top. Barely. The DJ cut the music, and the bar went silent. Hanging off to the side, the Morrigan clawed her way back on top.

  The Morrigan straightened herself, smiled, and counted, “Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. And twenty.”

  The Goddess swung her leg over the bull as the disappointed patrons returned to their tables. She spun in a circle with her arms at her sides. “Are you not entertained?” she wailed in her best Russell Crowe voice.

  She strutted back to the table with a devilish smirk on her face. She slapped the table. “Start talkin’, bitch.”

  The Morrigan slammed her Hurricane, and Gareth objected, “That’s cheating. You broke the fucking machine. Not fair.”

  I argued, “You wanted a show. You got one. Maybe not the outcome you wanted, but she completed your request.”

  The dagger groaned in displeasure. “You’re lucky I’m a nice guy. You know that, right?”

  “Of course, we do,” I said, raising my voice because the music had started again. I mentally reflected on the crazy night with Gareth. He was quite the character. “Now I believe you got something to tell us.”

  “All right. I guess it’s time. Just to frame this, I only heard bits and pieces so...”

  I interrupted the dagger, “Just give us a name and we can take it from there.”

  “Well, see, that’s the thing,” his voice cracked. “I didn’t really catch anyone’s name.”

  “Are you fooking kidding right now?” I asked and pounded my fist on the table, causing the drinks to jump and almost tumble over.

  I could barely hear Gareth over the music. “Hey. Hey. Easy now. I never said I knew anyone’s name. I said I have information and I do.”

  “You better give us something good or I will destroy you,” Mo threatened.

  “All right. Everyone relax. The one guy. He was short. Thick stubble came up to the bags under his eyes. And he was wearing a gray trench coat and one of those hats with the tiny brim. Dark as a raven’s feather. No offense to you,” he said, referencing the Morrigan.

  The anger inside tempted me to throw Gareth in the closest sewer grate, when his raven’s feather phrasing hit me. I flashed back to the funeral. My mother’s husband. “I know who he’s talking about.”

  “From those vague clues, you’ve figured it out?” the Morrigan questioned.

  “It’s my mother’s husband,” I blurted.

  “Warren? Are you sure?” asked the Morrigan.

  I answered immediately, “Positive. Think about it. He’s a technomancer. I can’t believe I didn’t think about that earlier.” I slapped my face for being stupid.

  The marriage of Frigid and Warren had seemed strange at the time, but it made more sense now considering my mother was the biggest opportunist I knew.

  Mo nodded slowly. “I guess that would make sense. I suspected an underworld or death God was involved. But I knew it would take a God or Goddess to pull this off. Your mother makes perfect sense. Fuckin’ bitch.”

  Despite the alcohol, my brain churned with the new r
evelation. “Well, we need to form a plan. Hey, Mo. You think you can have your avian brigade follow him and find out what the hell is going on?”

  “I’ll be glad to” responded the Morrigan as she steepled her fingers and tapped her chin. “Leave it to Brighid to fuck with the merchants. I bet she’s not the only one involved.”

  Gareth pleaded with us to stay until last call, so the Morrigan and I devised a plan while Justinian and the dagger made their rounds, drumming up new friendships. We had the information we needed, but was it the end or just a new beginning that would involve a trip to another netherworld? One never knew in this biz.

  The bartender rang a big cowbell and the Christmas lights flashed, signaling last call. Gareth returned to our table in the hand of a pretty, young blonde with Justinian trailing behind them. The dagger said, “Hey, Sharon here is having a little after party if you guys wanna...”

  I cut him off, “We’re good. But you go ahead.”

  “You sure?” he asked, his ruby eyes filled with life again.

  “Yeah, have fun. You deserve it,” I said, waving goodbye. “Oh, wait. One last thing. What was the joke?”

  “Joke? What joke?” he muttered.

  “You said Nandita told you a joke right before you were separated,” I reminded him.

  “Oh, that one. It’s not a very good one,” Gareth said.

  “I don’t care. I want to hear it,” I told him.

  “Okay. Here she goes.” He paused. “Are you sure?”

  “Just tell me the joke already,” I demanded.

  “What did the buffalo say when his oldest boy left?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know.”

  “Bison.” He laughed. “Get it? Bye son.”

  I nodded, tightlipped. “That was as bad as advertised. Bravo, sir.”

  We left the bar and headed back to my house. With Gareth’s clue, we needed to surveil Warren and get to the bottom of this. I had a feeling this operation involved heavy hitters.

  We arrived at my house and hopped out of the car. The Morrigan left for her lair. Justinian and I had wild sex all night long. Kidding. Just kidding. The young wolf fell asleep on my couch with the plan to go home in the morning.

  Just as I was about to lose consciousness, my phone buzzed with a text alert. Normally, I’d ignore it and check it in the morning. But not when there was a chance my dragons could need me. I reached over and grabbed my cell off the nightstand.

  Chapter 25

  I stared at the sapphire eggs inside the incubator, trying to will them to hatch. My lack of knowledge about the subject only added to my impatience. I wanted my dragons, and I wanted them now despite my grogginess. Jonathan had texted me several times throughout the night about the duel. It had forced me to shut off my phone so I could get some rest.

  Owen descended the steps into his basement. “Here we are now.” He handed me a Vitamin Water, dragon fruit flavor. Hopefully, it would be good luck.

  I backed up and rested on the arm of his black leather couch. The fire cracked, and I jerked my head in reaction. An ornate stone fireplace took up most of the back wall with bench seating flanking both sides of the fire. I hoped the constant flames would spur the dragons to hatch. I turned my attention back to the wooden table with the incubator that sat in between the fire and couch.

  “What did I miss?” he asked rhetorically, sinking into a blue leather recliner facing the incubator.

  “Have you been able to find anything out?” I asked, unscrewing the cap of my drink.

  He ignored my question. Staring at the fire, he jumped up out of the recliner. He snatched the poker and used it to slide open one half of the metal screen covering the fire. He stabbed at the logs while the coals crackled and fizzled. He finally said, “No. I’ve done quite a bit of research, but the topic of dragon birth is virtually nonexistent. Why? Have you heard something?”

  “No,” I responded, bouncing up and down. “I just know it’s taking forever.”

  In a serious tone, Owen said, “Actually. It hasn’t been that long at all.”

  “I know. I was just making a bad joke. I forgot you owned that block.” I stopped bouncing around and chugged more Vitamin Water.

  Owen blushed, his eyes changing to a dull pumpkin orange. “Yes, well. I suppose I am known for that. Has the Morrigan found out anything on this Warren fellow yet?”

  I leaned in close to the incubator, my forehead almost touching the thick plastic. I gazed at the thirteen sapphire dragon eggs. “No. She has her crows tracking him. But who knows how long it will take? My patience is running out on that front and with these dragons.”

  Owen went to speak and stopped himself. Holding a finger in the air, his voice squeaked as he spoke, “Have you broached the specter that there might not be dragons inside these eggs?”

  I rose and stared him in the eyes. “Don’t you dare say that,” I snapped. I calmed myself down a touch with a few deep breaths. “I need this right now. There are dragons inside. And they will be my new family. Nobody will convince me otherwise.”

  “No. I’m not rooting for that scenario. My worry is that if you get your hopes too high...”

  I cut him off, “My hopes are right where they need to be.” I chugged the rest of the Vitamin Water and set it on the bench seat of the stone fireplace next to a stack of old newspapers. “I’ve got to go. Call me if anything happens. Anything.”

  I gave him a quick hug and threw on my jacket. I didn’t want any negativity around my dragons.

  As I walked out Owen’s front door, the arctic blast swept my thoughts of raising dragons aside and reminded me to remain focused on the mission at hand. I wondered whether the Morrigan’s avian sleuths had located Warren. The wait gave me time to tie up a few loose ends.

  I still needed to track down Thor. The Norse God of Thunder had a knack for driving Loki crazy, which I admired. Thor could keep the God of Mischief so busy that he would forget all about me.

  I called the dive bar named Dietches where he worked and asked for Todd. The employee stated that he was off today. It appeared I would have until the next day to confront Thor.

  In the meantime, I needed to contact the Morrigan and see if her crows had found any valuable information.

  Chapter 26

  I cruised down Freeport Road, the tires of my Jeep crunching through the coarse chunks of road salt and spitting up black snow. It was time to surprise Thor. In the past few days, I’d noticed some shady characters who appeared to be following me. I assumed Loki and Tyr had something to do with it.

  If I could convince Thor to go back to Asgard, Loki would spend most of his time jostling with the fallen God for the throne. However, Thor had refused to talk to me last time I’d seen him, so this could go either way.

  A set of high beams in my rearview mirror nearly blinded me and grew brighter by the second. I flipped the little tab at the bottom of the mirror to deflect the light and wondered who was riding my ass. As my vision came back into sharp focus, it appeared to be a monster truck with two powerful spotlights strapped to the front of it. I knew one thing. A huge vehicle was right on my back bumper.

  I ignored the stupid yinzer and tried to keep calm. As I took a deep breath, the truck pulled into the lane of opposing traffic. Was this asshole trying to pass me? His or her headlights shone in my side-view mirror.

  Wham! The giant truck rammed into my rear quarter panel and sent my Jeep sideways, hurtling headlong into a parked black Audi. My hands slipped off the wheel as the front passenger tire crawled up the hood of the Audi, and my push bar rammed into a wooden telephone pole, setting off the airbag, which felt like a Mike Tyson punch to the face.

  Streaking silver stars zipped around my dazed vision. The vehicle rolled back onto the Audi and fell onto its side. Discombobulated, I went to open my door and turned my head to the window. I saw snowy pavement and quickly realized I had to find another exit. I took off my seatbelt, shimmied out of the driver’s seat and popped open the passe
nger door.

  I crawled up and out of the Jeep and collapsed into a heap. I rolled onto my back in the middle of the road as the slushy snow meshed into my jeans and gray winter jacket. Through my hazy vision, I saw a gigantic woman in black lumber up to me.

  She slowed down as she neared, measuring me with her creepy gaze. As I went to sit up, I realized who it was. A weird rush ran through my head and I fell back again, but I knew my attacker now.

  Hel. Loki’s daughter. How fitting. She stood over me, her long, dark hair covering half of her face, staring at me with her all-white eye. Her hideously scarred face of craterous valleys and shiny peaks looked like she had been burned horribly. The gross sight made me want to throw up. I struggled to sit up and confront her.

  Before I made it to my feet, Hel’s foot sprang forward. She jammed the sole of her black boot against my windpipe and knocked me back. As I fell back, she moved with me and kept her foot over my throat, applying pressure and pushing down with all her weight.

  The back of my head smacked the pavement, and Hel’s foot cut off my breathing. In an act of desperation, I grabbed the front and back of her faded leather boot and pushed up, but my effort didn’t cause her to budge. Gagging, I twisted her foot around, but it yielded the same terrible results.

  Hel was wearing a tight black outfit that looked like an artist had painted it onto her body. Her pants stopped just above her ankle, leaving some milky flesh exposed. Choking and running low on air, I let go of her shoe and dug my hand into a little pile of snow next to me. As I fished around, my finger bumped into a large piece of road salt.

  I snatched it out, located the sharpest edge and slashed it across Hel’s ankle. She screamed in agony and yanked her foot away with blood already gushing from the wound. I sucked in some sweet winter air. However, my victory was short lived as Hel came right back at me and used her other foot to choke me. As I gargled and flopped around, I called on the strength that I’d obtained from the Bavarian Warlock.