by J. P. Rice
Book 1: DRAGON HORN ASIN: B07DDM92JN
Book 2: BLOOD GOBLET ASIN: B07G233H3G
Book 3: CLIPPED WINGS ASIN: B07JM6Y27M
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Black Birds
The Scarlet Dragon Saga
Book 2
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
LINK TO BLACK BIRDS
Chapter 1
I waited near the bar in the restaurant where Thor worked as a dishwasher. The hostess at Slappy Jacks had sent for the kitchen manager about five minutes ago. I looked around the room at the patrons enjoying themselves and wondered if I would ever have a family of my own.
Recent events had put me at odds with Tyr and Loki. Their plans to kill Odin had failed courtesy of me. Loki had probably unleashed a slew of assassins and bounty hunters to take care of me. I needed to bring Thor to my side and get him back to Asgard. That would force Loki to spend all his time worrying about whether Odin would reinstall Thor as the heir to the throne.
Last time I’d seen Thor, he was drinking a 40 of malt liquor in the alley behind this restaurant. If I could convince Thor to quit Slappy Jacks and come work with me, that would be half the battle. Pittsburgh was a small place. Much smaller if I had to outrun a Norse hit squad.
The daily pains caused by Tyr’s lethal attack were getting much better. I’d thought they would all go away after I had sipped from Goibnius’s nectar, but the discomfort persisted. I could handle physical pain. Losing my golden half-heart locket hurt worse than the relentless aching. By any means necessary, I planned to get it back from Merlin and the Bounty Huntress.
The stocky kitchen manager hustled across the dining room with a dirty apron draped over his shoulder. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.
He started speaking before he arrived, “Listen. I’m gonna tell yinz exactly what I told them other guys. If Todd owes you money, that’s on him. We ain’t paying off any of his debts. Got it?”
I waved my open hands in front of me. “No. I just want to talk to him.”
He pulled out his phone and began scrolling. “Well, he don’t work here no more.” He stopped and looked up at me. He shoved his phone back into the pocket of his checkered pants and pointed at me. “Wait, you’re the lady we saw back in the alley. He stopped showing up the day after we saw yinz out there.”
I had suspected that. Thor really wanted to stay away from supernaturals. I asked, “Do you have a phone number or address I could have?”
The manager turned back toward the kitchen, and on the other side of the dining room, one of the cooks was shaking a ticket order, the long, narrow receipt slithering like a snake. The manager waved in recognition and turned back to me. Shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head, he spoke quickly, “Look lady, he was homeless and without a phone, but we gave him a shot. Last time we’ll make that mistake.”
He started putting his apron back on, and I knew he had to get back to the job, but this gave me nothing to go on. “If I could just ask a few more questions.”
He turned to walk away and spoke over his right shoulder, “Yinz can’t. Unless yinz wanna come back in the pit and bust some suds, cuz we’re getting our asses handed to us back here. Half priced lunches. What a great idea,” he said angrily and hustled toward the kitchen.
What in all the worlds was going on here? Thor had turned into a deadbeat. Why would he owe people money? Even if he was at odds with Odin, he had access to unlimited funds. Perhaps he was trying to show his father that he didn’t need the money and could make it on his own.
Thor had gotten angry and run away from Asgard before, but he had always gone to a supernatural stronghold. Now it seemed like he was trying to stay away from that group, which I could totally understand. It was the struggling through life, owing people money, working as a dishwasher and drinking 40s in an alley that had me worried. I’d never seen a God in that situation before.
And why Pittsburgh? Thor knew it was a hotbed for the various pantheons. If I were trying to lie low, I’d want to get the hell out of this city. Quite the conundrum.
I buttoned the top button of my heavy winter jacket and opened the front door of the restaurant. A blistering howl of frozen wind slapped me across the face, invaded the winter cap on my head, dug under my scalp and caused me to shake before I got my second foot out the door. My dragon blood hated the cold.
According to the calendar, winter had ended nearly a month ago. When I’d first returned to Pittsburgh, I thought it was just due to global warming causing the seasons to shift a bit. I came to realize that we had a real problem on our hands when other cities like Philadelphia and Baltimore shifted into spring.
Pittsburgh was the only city on the East Coast to have been hit with this anomaly. I had a strong suspicion of who was behind it too. The demons of the Red Cavern. However, I had other pressing matters to deal with.
Mike Merlino had called me and said he had something of vast importance to talk about. It just so happened that I wanted to chew him out for being all lovey dovey with my mother anyway, so I’d taken the meeting. The wizard had presented himself as an ally, but I had to keep my guard up with the crafty young man. You never knew in this biz.
With my trembling fingers, I took my keys out of my purse and squeezed them in my gloved right hand. I wanted to be ready to start the engine and turn on the heat immediately.
I also had the Morrigan to worry about. She had told me there was a problem that she needed help with. However, I had a strong feeling the Goddess of Death wanted to cause destruction and needed a wing-woman. Even though I hadn’t received proper thanks from the Gods for returning Lugh’s Spear, I didn’t want to go down that dark path again.
Sure, I’d burned Tyr almost beyond recognition and killed Hera during my quest for the spear, but it was for the betterment of society. All too often, the Morrigan preferred senseless violence that I wanted to curb.
I jumped up into my lifted Jeep Wrangler and shoved the keys into the ignition. My thumb flipped forward and the engine turned over. Immediately, I adjusted the heat settings and rubbed my hands together. I pressed down on the gas intermittently to get the heat to kick on faster.
The shifter-vampire war was still percolating. In my effort to resolve that situation, I’d failed miserably. In fact, I’d exacerbated the escalating battle. I didn’t imagine Jonathan and the vampires had any issues with me, but Octavius and the werewolves surely wanted me dead.
I planned to lie low for a while. I’d never told anyone where I lived down south, so returning to Hilton Head Island was always an option. But Pittsburgh was my town. Curling up in front of a fire until all this blew over sounded good to me. I still had a few friends and my father, whom I could count on.
My mind returned to my original inquiry. Where the hell was the Norse God of Thunder and how could I locate him? There was a Norse presence in Pittsburgh, but I wouldn’t know if any of them were loyal to Tyr or Loki. Odds were that Loki’s tentacles stretched throughout the city and beyond, choking out anyone of Norse allegiance who dared to defy his orders. So that option was off the table.
That meant I needed to practice the utmost patience on this front. I shifted to drive and pulled out onto Negley Avenue.
Chapter 2
As I returned home from checking on my dragon eggs, I drove straight past my house because a werewolf in human form was peeking in my front window. It was the young man with the stenciled beard who had been working as the bouncer at the wolves’ house. I pulled off to the side of the road and turned off my Jeep. Quietly, I opened the door and got out.
The wolf was still nosing around with his back turned to me. I removed my coat and set it on the hood of the Jeep. Crouching down, I spider walked across the street and hid behind my neighbor’s bush. Worried that he would run, I cast a spell to set a lock bubble around the wolf.
The invisible enclosure’s design was obvious. Trapping the wolf inside. There was only one problem with invisible objects. Were they really there? I shifted the dimension of my vision and saw the outlined grid for the lock bubble. Werewolves were so fast that I had to check the spell, or he could easily outrun me. With the bubble in place, I walked out into the open.
“Ahem,” I said, clearing my throat.
The wolf spun around with a look of horror running through his eyes. He went to escape to the left and smashed into my magic. The confused wolf bounced off the magical enclosure, trying the other side and quickly becoming enraged. He raised his chin and howled at the tiny sliver of a crescent moon in the dark sky.
His lunar savior ignored his pleas for help. The man scratched at the edges of the bubble, then bit at it. Fangs and claws developed as he continued to attack the enclosure. In an act of desperation, he started to shift. His coat and clothes tore away, splitting at the seams and falling off his rapidly expanding body.
His head bounced off the top and the action enraged him, causing him to punch at the lock bubble. Growling and grunting, he spun in a circle, unleashing a tornado of violence that did nothing to compromise the bubble and only served to wear him out.
He grunted and groaned as he fell to his knees, defeated. I walked around and faced him. “You ready to tell me why you’re staking out my place?”
He jerked his head to the side, avoiding eye contact. Breathing huskily, he said, “Isn’t it obvious who sent me?”
“Look at me, you little runt.” I waited as he turned his elongated wolf’s head reluctantly. “It is obvious. But for the life of me, I can’t imagine how you could be so stupid to come after me. I suppose you can’t turn down the alpha’s order. Or does Octavius care that little about you that he is willing to throw you to the wolves? Pardon the pun.”
I peeked around to make sure I wasn’t putting on a show for the neighbors, but no one was rubbernecking.
He stood up and held his chin high. He spoke regally, “I’ve failed on my mission and disgraced my family in the process. Kill me honorably and send my remains back to the house.”
“In due time, perhaps. What was your mission?” I wanted to know.
He rolled his eyes. “Take a guess.”
I went with the obvious choice. “Did he send you to kill me?”
“Nope.” He shook his hairy face back and forth.
I wasn’t a big fan of guessing games. “If I have to guess one more time, I’m going to get violent,” I promised.
With a sour frown on his face, he said, “He sent me to kidnap your little faerie friend.”
“She’s a dragonfly,” I corrected him. Now I wished I had killed Octavius when I had the chance.
“Oh, so sorry,” he apologized, but in a mocking tone. He really did want to die.
“Apology not accepted. Hmmm. What shall I do with you?” I mused, pacing along my lawn.
“I already told you. Kill me.” He was acting quite snotty toward the person holding his fate. Odd technique.
I stopped pacing and turned my gaze on him. “Oh, I hardly think that would be fun. In my experience, almost all the time, two dead bodies are worth less than one that’s alive.”
The wolf smirked, and I wasn’t sure why. That wasn’t really a joke. I told him, “That doesn’t mean I’m letting you go. I might just hold onto you until I really need you. I just have to figure out where I’m going to house you.”
He stared at me, his dark eyes filling with rage. “So, what? So, you’re just going to put me in a cage, like an animal?”
He seemed to have no self-awareness, standing there in werewolf form. I said, “I don’t have a mirror on me, but you do know what you look like, yes?”
He looked down at his shredded clothes, then back at me. “Our family has more money than they know what to do with. I’m certain they’d pay any ransom you name.”
His bravery was dwindling fast. Moments ago, he’d begged for an honorable death. Now, he wanted ransomed back to the family he had disgraced. Strange turn of events.
“I’ve got plenty of money,” I informed him. “It’s good to have. You know why?” I waited a few seconds, giving him a chance to answer. He kept his lips sealed, so I went on, “People will do anything for money if they don’t have it. It can be the ultimate motivator. Countless sins have been wrongly justified in the pursuit of filthy lucre.”
“So. What do you want?” he asked, holding back his anger and frustration.
I thought for a few moments. That was a damn good question. “I want people to stop chasing after me. I want people to stop trying to kill me. Short of that, I’ll settle for a small trophy.”
He shook his head and raised his voice, “You can’t do this. Octavius will send more men to find out what happened to me.”
I giggled. “Oh, I think you’re giving yourself far too much credit. I remember when Caesar yelled at you like the little twerp that you are. Now, you’re trying to worm your way out of this by having him save you. You were better off begging for death. Much more honorable.”
“Then do it. Kill me, already,” he yelled and wiped the foam from the corners of his mouth.
I turned over my shoulder and looked behind me. “Did you see me pop out of a bottle? I’m not a genie granting wishes over here. You don’t get to select what happens next. Spoiler alert; you’re not dying and you’re not going home. My advice is to enjoy your stay and don’t be an asshole. Be careful, the innkeeper is a bit crazy.”
He shook his head and spoke with disdain, “I can’t wait until my pack shows up and rips you apart. I only hope they save your heart for me to eat.”
I smirked. I normally enjoyed a little repartee or trash talk, but never something that personal. “Ooohhh, those are the kinds of statements you may want to keep to yourself. It’s that kind of stuff that really stirs up the innkeeper. You’d be wise to mind your tongue, young man.”
I squeezed the lock bubble through the front door and pushed the wolf into my living room. Titania zoomed into the room in a dazed state as she loved taking naps. “What’s going on here?” She yawned, turned her back on him and whispered, “Who’s the wolf carrying the big package?”
I hadn’t noticed his endowment until she mentioned it. She wasn’t lying. “Actually, I don’t remember if I’ve ever been told. Say, wolf boy, what’s your name?”
He was still in werewolf form and I wondered why. He said snottily, “Not telling you. In fact, I’m going to drop a stinky deuce on your carpet.” He crouched down to reinforce the threat.
I encouraged him, “Do it up, buttercup. I really think you should. It’ll stay inside that bubble there and we won’t even be able to smell it.” I hoped he wouldn’t do it because I eventually needed to dissolve the shield around him and everything would be exposed. “That’s fine. Titania and I will give you a name then.” I turned to my dragonfly friend. “Got any ideas? I like Teen Wolf.”
“I don’t know. Harry is too obvious. How about Little Big Horn?” she said and sniggered.
I stared at the young wolf, surprised that he wasn’t going crazy. I’d expected more than that short bit of flailing against the shield when we were outside. “No. They all have names that sound like Roman emperors. It’s probably Centurian or I know. Brutus. Et tu, Brute, et tu?”
“Were they even emperors?” Titania questioned.
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br /> “I was being colorful, all right?” I told her and suggested, “Nero?”
Frustrated, he yelled out, “It’s Justinian. My name is Justinian.”
I snapped my fingers. “Damnit, I was close when I said Centurian.” I focused my attention on the newly named wolf. “Here’s what’s going to happen Justinian. You’re going to remain inside that lock bubble until I can go to the pet store in the morning and get a cage suited for a wolf. Then, Titania will stand watch over you. She will decide when or if you eat. I was thinking a nice vegetarian diet.”
He shook his finger in front of his face and threatened, “You’re making a big mistake.” He held his finger still. “I’ll give you one last chance to let me go.”
“Or what? What are you going to do?” I genuinely wanted to know.
“You’ll have to wait and see. It won’t be good.” He spouted the classic ambiguous threat. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the reputation to back that kind of threat.
Titania and I retired to the kitchen because his nonsensical jabbering was getting tiresome. I didn’t know exactly how I would play this. How much value did this junior member of the pack hold? What could I get for him? I wanted to use him to keep Octavius in check. But how?
I leaned toward Titania, lowered my voice and said, “I’m not sure what to do with him. If I tell Octavius that I would kill Justinian if he stepped out of line, he might just tell me to go ahead and do it. Then, any value would be gone.”
“Do you want anything from Octavius?” she asked so quietly that I could barely hear her.
I tossed my head around, debating. “Not really.”
Her eyes widened as if a huge brainwave had just occurred. She said enthusiastically, “I think I might know a way to keep him under control.”
“How is that?” I asked, intrigued.
“You tell Octavius that you have Justinian.”
That was her great idea? “I just told you that could blow up in my face.”