Bloodline Awakened Supernatural Thriller Series: Books 1-3

by Jason Paul Rice

  Great, my first big fight in the city and I was up against the fucking Predator. I tried to search the depths of my mind just to figure out what this thing was.

  It wouldn’t make sense to call on a spell or conjuration if I didn’t identify the dark creature. The dim firelight and nearly full moon worked in tandem to illuminate the figure briefly. I circled around, trying to reposition our standoff to get a better look. The beast took another step to the left and a shaft of moonlight broke through the tree cover. I was horrified when I saw the mane.

  I backed up, realizing it was a Manticore. I only caught a glimpse of his rear lion legs crouched, claws in the dirt, ready to pounce. I was still dizzy and almost fell over as I kept backing up. A dense cloud floated in front of the moon and the Manticore blended back into the surroundings. I’d learned about Manticores, but not one that could act like a chameleon.

  I was sure the massive animal would spring forward and devour me, but it didn’t. I froze. I knew I had to act quickly, but nothing came to my panicked mind. I wished I had brought the magic mist with me to even the odds. Was my magic abandoning me?

  Then came the crack of a whip and I felt a pinch on my chest. The Manticore’s tail grabbed hold of my hoodie and dragged me forward until the cotton mercifully ripped and I fell face first next to the odorless fire.

  I jumped up and wiped the dirt and leaves off my torn hoodie. The Manticore had ripped off the part with Merlino Detective Company written on it. “If you wanted a business card, you should have just asked.”

  I reached inside my shirt and checked for my necklace and blood. I felt instant relief because I was safe on both accounts until I remembered who was still at large.

  I lost him in the darkness again. And no, I wasn’t being sexist, I had caught a peek at his anatomy when the moonlight had been strong.

  The Manticore had the body of a lion, the face of an old man, and a venomous reptilian tail that I had already had the pleasure of being introduced to. I wished I could get a better view of him. I had never heard of this chameleon-style Manticore before.

  I’d read that if you shine a light into their eyes, they will return to their world, but it had to be a bright light. I didn’t have a mirror and even if I had, the moonlight wasn’t strong enough to send this demon away.

  I heard a roar, and a wave of warm, stinking breath hit my face causing me to instinctually back away. Three sharp claws flashed in the emerging moonlight, and traced across my cheek, leaving a wake of gashes in their path. The blood just sat on the surface of the cuts for a few moments. Then, they started to gush deep burgundy blood. It dripped down onto the belly pocket of my hoodie.

  The next swipe came from the other side which I detected at the last second and flung my midsection backward to avoid contact. Another paw came screaming across my stomach, ripping the bottom half of my hoodie and T-shirt to shreds. A searing pain followed and I dabbed my hand on my exposed belly. More blood, although I was lucky this had only scraped the surface.

  I wondered why the creature hadn’t thrown the death blow yet, but I also didn’t know if he was winding up to inflict maximum damage. I realized I had been outclassed in this battle as a bass-filled purr shifted into a roar. A firm shoulder smacked me in the chest and knocked me back several yards.

  I gasped for air and reached into my pocket to use my flashlight function on my phone. I hadn’t heard the warning beep again and worried that my phone was dead. It seemed like my last chance. I pulled it out and fumbled it to the ground. I reached out and snatched it up. There was still a thin sliver of power and I started swiping through my apps. Where was it? Where was it?

  My screen went blank and the stupid melody that indicated it was about to shut down seemed to be mocking me. I was screwed.

  He hissed, and threw up his right paw, suddenly disappearing. It sounded like a vicious snake fight as he reappeared. Two tiny wings sprouted from his sides. The Manticore turned tail and jogged toward the house. Why was he running away?

  The Manticore already hit sprinting speed as he reached the fence to Ruth Westerhouse’s. I thought he was going to bust right through the fence, but his back legs lowered and he leaped into the air.

  Rising quickly, the Manticore narrowly avoided crashing into Ruth’s roof. The tiny wings beat for all they were worth and didn’t seem suited to carry all that weight, but I watched the image streak across the moon and wondered if anyone else had seen it. It didn’t exactly look like Santa Claus on his sleigh with the reindeer.

  Why had he run away? I smiled, content with myself. Sure, I hadn’t killed the powerful demon, but I had chased him away.

  I inspected the damage to my clothing and it hit me like a stake in the heart. That’s why he hadn’t followed up immediately with another strike after that first swipe.

  He was gathering up the tracking material from my clothes. I didn’t want to believe it. I frantically searched the area, but couldn’t find even a scrap of my hoodie. However, I did find a bunch of overlapping circles with crudely drawn rune symbols from the Red Cavern that the Manticore must’ve been using to make himself invisible. Sneaky son of a gun.

  Then the moon and stars vanished again, making finding anything impossible. How was I going to explain to Alayna that I had let a demon get some of her body fluid, along with that of two other innocent women? Actually, I wasn’t so sure Ruth Westerhouse was innocent.

  The demons could use bodily fluids in rituals to cast spells or curses on humans. It also made tracking a person much easier. The fluids provided a great advantage to the demons, and I shouldn’t have let it happen.

  At least I had the case and the contents seemed to be intact. I had to get out of there in case our noisy encounter had woken the neighbors.

  The box had lost its heat but it carried substantial weight. Now I knew why Ruth had struggled with it. Perhaps the contents of the case could counterbalance a demon having body fluid. I would gladly exchange it to keep Alayna, Stacy and Ruth safe.

  Upon further thought, the Manticore had my blood. He was a Chieftain among the demons and could do a lot more with that than he could with some dried tears.

  I bent down with my legs and hovered over the box. I took a deep breath and prepared to lift the case.

  “The fuck you are. Put that down this instance.”

  I looked straight ahead at the barrel of what appeared to be a Smith and Wesson M and P Bodyguard 380.

  Did I mention I didn’t trust Ruth Westerhouse?

  Chapter 10

  “WHY DON’T YOU PUT THE gun down and we can talk,” my voice squeaked, as I raised two open palms.

  Her hands trembled, both holding the pistol, two petite index fingers over the trigger, and I prayed to my God friends that she had left the safety on. It was a .38, not a .45 caliber weapon, but it had plenty of stopping power from close range to end my life quickly with just a twitch of her finger. It was a lightweight gun, but she was holding it like it was heavy, scaring me.

  The moon had come back out to play and I took one step forward, assessing her reaction.

  “Take one more step and I’ll blow your fucking head off.” She wasn’t going to do it. First of all, she had it aimed at my chest. However, due to this particular situation, I was willing to indulge her.

  I stood still, and she crept forward, her pink slippers sliding along the dirt path. I asked calmly, “What’s in the box?”

  She began to shake even more. “None of your business. None of anybody’s business, for that matter. We’re good people. We just got mixed up with some—people we shouldn’t have. Why are you here? They said that box would be destroyed.”

  “They? Who have you talked to?”

  She shook her head. “I asked you a question first.”

  “Here’s how this is going to work. I’ll answer your question and then you’ll do the same for me, deal?”

  She smiled, and I thought we might have an agreement. She said, “Seeing as to how I’m holding this gun. I’ll answer
what I want to and nothing more. Deal?”

  She had an inarguable point. “I’m a detective as you found out earlier. I investigate things. Need I say more?”

  Her brief smile disappeared. “Liar. They know you, you know?”

  “Who is they?”

  She chuckled, laughing at me. “Oh, you stupid little boy. They are going to kill you so easily.”

  I’d thought I flew under the magic radar in Pittsburgh until today. I needed to be delicate. “Just give me a hint of who they are?”

  “I’m a good person, okay?” she said, and tears broke out of her ducts.

  I enthusiastically agreed. “Yes, sure, okay.” Now please put down the weapon.

  She lowered the gun and my clenched bowels thanked her for the courtesy. Her lips smashed together and her face wrinkled in the dark as she tried to put her words together. “We used to go to parties. They started out just as, you know, orgies and just wild sex parties.” She suddenly spoke like a valley girl. I waited for her to start twirling her hair, but alas, both hands were still glued to that pistol. “It was, just, just, for fun, you know. Pittsburgh can be so boring. Then they started to take a dark turn. Some of the stuff people were doing was kind of weird. It wasn’t Darren’s fault, I swear.”

  “I understand.”

  She took one hand off the gun and it dangled by her thigh, pointing down. “He was a good guy. Showed up for work every day. Never hit me once. He just liked the power it gave him. Then it became, like a drug. He didn’t even go to the parties for the sex anymore. It was just to trade secrets with the McNights. Oh shit, I shouldn’t have said that. You’ve got to go. Right now.”

  I had a feeling that I could get that gun from her, but I would have to hit her, and I would never hit a woman. Demons of the female variety were another story. “If I could just take this box with me, I can make sure no one gets hurt. If I don’t, you could be in a lot of danger.”

  She laughed. It was a forced laugh. “I’m pretty much a dead woman standing right now. I’m trying to do everything they say to stay alive, but they’re ruthless. I’ve seen and heard things that they have done. Just look at what my boyfriend did. They control him.”

  Now that she’d mentioned it, he had seemed as if he was being controlled by a remote force. “If I could talk to you for a moment about that.”

  She shook her head as she used her free hand to wipe away some tears. “No. No. He was a good guy. It was all them. They got him hooked. They did all this. Now let’s go. I’m walking you around front so you can get to your car or call for a ride. I’m going to watch you, and if you come back into my yard, I will shoot you.”

  She was true to her word and even let me use her internet to get an Uber. A pink smart car pulled up and I groaned, even though I was relieved it wasn’t Speedy Gonzalez again. I got in and said hello to a tiny woman who was sitting on a thick cushion so that she could see over the steering wheel. Just my luck. I really should start checking out the cars and drivers first before hitting first available.

  Little did Ruth know, I wasn’t going home just yet. Not without that box.

  I confused the hell out of the driver when I took her on a circuitous tour around the neighborhood until I found the street I needed. I had her wait for me, and got out of the car. I had floated the idea of greasing the driver with an extra Andrew Jackson to help me carry the heavy object, but the older woman didn’t look up to the task.

  I took the back way into the communal woods in the middle of a bunch of houses. The fire had nearly burned out, but I located the Dank Artistry box in the same spot. Carrying the box until it became too heavy, I dragged it by the leather handle the rest of the way to the car. Jamming myself into the passenger’s seat, I put the box onto my lap and struggled to get the door shut. Damn smart cars.

  The cool breeze felt nice, but did little to calm me down. I was in some deep shit now. I’d put three innocent women’s lives in danger due to my inexperience. I should have combed the woods better before I focused on that box.

  And the box. The box made me think there was an evil plan afoot from the demons of the Red Cavern. Why would they send a top-level demon to destroy a simple box?

  The night seemed like a blur. I’d battled a powerful Manticore for the box, and considering it was in my possession, it seemed like a win. Considering Ruth had almost shot me in the face over the box. I came to the assumption that Ruth and her boyfriend were under the control of the demons. She wasn’t to be trusted.

  I wanted to open this box, but I wanted Alayna to be there in case I unleashed an evil spell or curse. I had to confess to her about letting the demons get access to her body fluid. Then I had to ask her for help. This wouldn’t be pretty.

  The box and I made it home about twelve minutes later. I signed for the ride and thanked the driver for obliging my unusual requests before dragging the box up to the door. I shoved my key into the slot and someone’s voice scared the beejezus out of me.

  Alayna said, “You got it.”

  She followed me in and my heart started to pound. I had a pretty good feeling this wouldn’t go over too well.

  Chapter 11

  “I FIGURED MAYBE WE should open it together.” I tried to soften her up.

  “My word, look at you,” she said, pulling at my torn apart clothing. She touched the cut on my belly and I jumped back from the sting. “What happened?”

  “I got into a little fight. With a demon.” I mumbled the last sentence.

  “What?” she asked, staring at the paw cuts on my face.

  “Yeah. A Manticore. He acted like a chameleon too, blending in with the background and surroundings using safe circles with rune markers. I held my own, though.”

  She looked over me with genuine concern. I figured now was the best time to gently broach the subject. I said, “Oh, there is just one more thing.”

  She stared at me in silence, her eyelids narrowing. My voice cracked like a teen boy’s as I spoke. “That was the shirt I was wearing earlier today.”

  Her lips curled downward and didn’t seem like they were going to stop. “So, you’re saying that a top-shelf Manticore from the Red Cavern has some of my body fluid.”

  “They were just dried tears from hours before the fight. If it makes you feel any better, he’s got some of my blood.”

  “That does not make me feel better. I warned you to be careful.”

  “You told me to be careful when I opened the box. See I still haven’t done that yet. Come on, let’s open it together. I was waiting for you.”

  She turned around and pulled my door. She kicked open the screen, and looked over her shoulder. “Open it yourself. In fact, you’re going to be doing a lot of things on your own starting now. I want this month and last month’s rent by November 1st or you’re out of here. No fooling around this time. You screwed up, Mike, you screwed up bigtime.”

  She walked out, flung the screen door closed, crossed Freeport Road and walked behind a stopped bus. The driver closed the door and the bus cruised away. Alayna had disappeared.

  Hell of a day, Micheal. (Pronounced like the classic Michael.) I wasn’t sure if I had made anything better. I knew I had made a lot of things worse for some people. And I was all set to brag about surviving a scrap with a badass demon. I wondered if Reginald was awake. He loved when I talked about magic.

  I went to see what my other best friend was up to and knocked on my neighbor’s door.

  Ronald answered the door. I asked, “Is your dad home?”

  The short, dark-skinned man pushed the thick black rimmed glasses up on his nose, “Stop knocking so damn loud. I think he’s asleep anyway.”

  “Ronald, I can hear the dumbbells clanging together back there. He’s working out.”

  “Yeah, and if he comes over to your house until all hours of the night, I’ve got to deal with him when he comes home all drunk. You two have all the fun and leave me to clean up the shit. Literally.”

  “Whatever. Reg. What’s up?�
� I yelled.

  Reg wheeled out into the living room. He wasn’t wearing a shirt from the work out and his huge ebony shoulders and arms glistened from the sweat. He toweled off the freckled area around his nose, and said, “You get into a fight or something?”

  I nodded. “I might need my doctor.”

  Reginald Danforth had been a MASH doctor in the Vietnam War. When the alarm siren had gone off to evacuate the operating room, Reg had a choice to make: finish the surgery or run for safety. He had stayed and his noble action had caused him to lose the use of his legs during the bombing. And don’t tell Alayna, but I’ve been teaching him magic.

  He said, “Let me get cleaned up a little bit and I’ll meet you out there.”

  “I’ll be on the front porch, and you don’t need to bathe in Old Spice this time.”

  Reg came out onto the porch about five minutes later and it smelled like he had completely disregarded my advice about the cologne. I could almost taste the old man scent as I helped Reg get his wheel chair into my house. He immediately zeroed in on the box on my coffee table.

  “I’m getting a weird vibe from that thing,” Reg said, pointing at the box. He ran his fingers through his black hair with dark gray streaks, starting at his temples and continuing to the back of his head.

  I warned him, “Don’t touch that thing. You need your doctor’s juice?”

  Reg’s brown eyes with golden flecks lit up. “I’m not going to turn that down. I’ll need it anyway.” He held up a shaky hand.

  I went into the kitchen and poured two rocks glasses of Jameson Irish Whiskey, my favorite. I walked back into my living room and handed my doctor his glass to calm his nerves for the surgery.

  “Let me get a closer look here before we bust out the stitches.”

  He inspected my face for about a solid minute. “This actually isn’t that bad. Just need some medical tape to hold the cut together.”