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

by J. P. Rice

  “He’s not as big in the east and was a lot more popular back in the eighties,” I explained.

  “You dare laugh at Arameus while you are swathed in winter attire, sweating like a thieving prostitute in a warm confessional.”

  “You making fun of me?” I directed two thumbs at myself.

  “No, no. Just a joke I remembered from a few centuries ago. Now cease this mindless chatter at once,” the metaphysical dragon demanded. “I’ve been commanded to protect the contents of that box by any means necessary. Unless you know the password, that is.”

  “What? Password?” I watched a funnel of flames corkscrew up from its belly to its chest. It matched the burning stomach bile racing up my esophagus.

  “You have five seconds. Five...”

  What password? I didn’t want to throw out random guesses, but I was stumped. My father had set this protection spell. What were his favorite phrases?

  “Four.” The flames crept higher, narrowing in Smoky’s lengthy neck and shattering my concentration on the password.

  “Three.” The fire coalesced in its throat, taking on a bluish-green tint.

  Should I just give up the contents of the box to avoid getting burned? Oh, shit. Wait a damn minute. What was that writing on the bottom of the map? My hand dove frantically into my back pocket.

  “Two.” The fire moved into the mouth of the shadowy beast hovering a mere three feet from me.

  Drops of perspiration poured off my face from the extreme heat and a questionable wardrobe decision. One big expulsion of breath would be the end of me. What a shitty death that would be.

  I fumbled with the paper as my sweaty, trembling fingers pried it open.

  “One.” Smoky’s mouth gaped, and I heard wind rustling.

  “Faith, hope, and charity,” I screamed loud enough for the neighbors to hear and held my hand out in a pathetic attempt to protect my face.

  My words were met with silence, even the whistling wind had ceased, and I cringed as I awaited the dragon’s verdict. Peering through the fingers of my outstretched hand, I spied Smoky nodding slowly.

  “Correct,” the dragon wheezed, and the fire extinguished immediately with a loud poof. A stiff breeze caught hold of the apparition and swept away its tail first. Then the wind picked up the rest of the body and carried it away as it broke up progressively and disintegrated into the descending dusk.

  What the hell was that? Excitement was cool, but I didn’t want to risk being charred beyond recognition. My father must have put a powerful protection spell on the contents of that box. I dropped to my knees to see what was so special about this clump of dirt.

  Instantly, a glittery gleam caught my eye. I leaned over and fished through the cracked mound of dirt. Using my index finger, I hooked the band of a silver ring and brought it closer to my face.

  I recognized it immediately. It was the silver band with a dragon head setting that my father had given me when I was twelve years old. It was the ring my father had taken away from me after I had almost burned down these same woods that fateful day.

  I only had ownership of the ring for a few short hours before my dad confiscated it.

  It was so big that I had worn it on my thumb when I was twelve. My father had been teaching me about drawing magical inspiration from different figures and objects in mythology when my focus had drifted. For some reason, the bonfire at my uncle’s house had entered my mind. As I’d envisioned the mighty flames, a burning sensation had erupted in my chest.

  A second later, flames had shot out of the ring and set the woods ablaze. My father had panicked initially, but he created a gale force gust of wind to put out the blaze. Then he had pried the ring from my reluctant thumb.

  He had warned me I needed to wait until I matured to practice magic again. It was the first and final time we’d practiced magic together. I’d blamed myself, wondering what I had done to draw his ire. Until then, I’d been dealing with weird internal feelings and wild mood swings. Almost like another person was inside me.

  The day after the fire, all my internal issues had resolved themselves. The swirling strangeness had ceased. I’d studied magic on my own after that, and I’d eavesdropped on my father and his friends every chance I’d had, but it wasn’t the same.

  I started playing football in junior high school and began dating my girlfriend Carolyn a few years after, so magic had taken a backseat after my freshman year. Even though I’d been the starting quarterback of my high school team, I was secretly a magic and fantasy nerd.

  When my father was killed, I’d blamed his magic lifestyle for his death. I’d sworn off following in his footsteps and taken a safe job in construction to support the family. But the passion for magic and law enforcement never left me. It felt like it was lying dormant inside and just needed to be awakened, like the slumbering dragons. I still loved the arcane practice and dabbled in harmless magic acts any chance I got.

  I slid the ring onto my index finger, and it fit perfectly. The corners my lips curled up, and a jolt of energy lanced through my hand and rippled up to my shoulder.

  In the strangled rays of the setting sun, the ornate dragon face setting gleamed. A few seconds later, the rune markings on the band glowed.

  The first symbol emitted a molten brilliance. The second shone like polished lapis lazuli. I twisted my finger, and the third held a moss green radiance. The fourth gleamed fiercely like mother of pearl.

  Because I’d only had the ring for a few hours, my father had never explained what the runes stood for. He’d only divulged that they were ancient symbols unique to our family. My hand tingled from the magic, and when I removed the ring, the sensation halted, and the runes stopped glowing.

  I slid the ring back onto my finger and my hands burned. I held them in front of my chest, staring at my fiery palms. A millisecond later, two magical discs appeared, hovering a millimeter above my open hands. What in the world?

  With rune symbols and sigils spinning around the perimeter, the still interior held overlapping geographic shapes. They were the size of a large pizza and took on a deep orange appearance, little flames sprouting from the strange objects.

  Then, just as soon as they’d arrived, the two discs fizzled, flashed brightly, and before I could deduce what they were, they were gone.

  I leaned against the planted shovel. My father had insisted I wasn’t ready for magic when I was twelve. According to his note, I was now ready. Too bad he wasn’t around to teach me.

  Even though it was three years since his death, there was still a little speck of dreamer blood inside me that anticipated I would see him on earth again. Unfortunately, it would take a hell of a lot more than magic to make that happen.

  A lightning bug flashed in front of my face, perhaps a cosmic sign from my old man. That used to be our curfew signal to get home when my sister and I were younger. He had told us repeatedly, “When you see their butts light up, that means you need to get your butts home.”

  I wanted to stay out here and test the ring, but I had other pressing matters to tend to, which included getting out of this damn coat. I bent my neck to peer through the tree branches above. As the sun sank below the horizon, the full moon started to take form. That meant I could make my mother’s magic potion to encourage her happiness.

  Right before I turned to leave, four points of light next to the moon caught my eye. The mystical beams created a diamond pattern and seemed like they were staring back at me. Unblinking, they burned brighter than normal stars and it still wasn’t dark out. I rubbed my eyes to make sure I wasn’t seeing things. When I looked back, the spots of illumination were gone. What a freaky day.

  When it comes to magic, I am a two-trick pony. I know how to make potions and summon an angel. The ring could extend my repertoire vastly, but last time I’d tested it, I’d almost burned down a forest. That meant I had to be extremely careful with it.

  My name is Zeke Brennen, and I’ll be your tour guide on this wacky adventure. One rule: No lit
tering. It’s detrimental for elemental magic. One warning: I really don’t know what I’m doing, but I am more than willing to jump into the fire and have no problem making it up as I go.

  Together, we can fly by the seat of our collective pants as we attend the school of hard knocks. Just don’t take my word for scripture and keep your head on a swivel. Hold on tight and prepare for turbulence.

  I had a spring in my step as I turned for the house. It was shaping up to be a good night. In a little while, I would get to practice magic.

  For a split second, I mused about using the ring’s powers to hunt down the culprit behind the missing women. I envisaged rescuing the young ladies and returning them to their families. My heroic visions faded along with the sinking sun, and I circled back to the question burning a hole in my mind.

  What kind of sick, twisted freak was behind the missing women?

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