Clipped Wings

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Clipped Wings Page 1

by J. P. Rice




  Clipped Wings

  Book 6 - Bloodline Awakened Supernatural Thriller Series

  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

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  You have a great power that you might not know about.

  Special Acknowledgments: Mom, My Grandmas, Nandita, Ljilja, Larry Tushman, Milia Glafira, Amy, Saundra Wright, Val Davis,

  Ginger Storm | The Scarlet Dragon Saga | Book 1 | J.P. Rice | RELEASE DATE 12-26-18

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2 | “Misunderstanding is the spoon that stirs the cauldron of life.”

  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.

  Time to be a family man for a while. I wasn’t sure how the Gods would take it, but I was prepared to argue my case.

  I snagged my drink off the back porch and stopped in my tracks as I hit the backyard. As I stared at the tribute, the amethyst fairy wings began to beat with my heart. Slowly. Steadily. Perpetually. In the background, Burn and Dante, the woman carrying my child and adopted demon son, were playing carelessly, blowing bubbles at each other an
d simply enjoying life.

  I looked around our acre and a half of land behind the house. Straight ahead, there were steady plains of dull green winter grass. Both sides of the open field were flanked by a heavy forest of ancient trees with branches towering high into the clouds.

  I noticed some movement in the woods and shielded my eyes from the sun with my hand to get a better look. I expected to see an animal. Instead, two upright creatures were peeking through the branches of a small tree.

  Roydell and Timson. My vampire nemeses.

  I tossed my drink aside and took off at a dead sprint. The two cowards turned and ran as I neared the tree line. I jumped over a small bush and landed on some fallen twigs that crunched under my weight and almost caused me to turn my ankle.

  There wasn’t a beaten path so Roydell and Timson ran in a zig zag pattern, trying to avoid the small brush. It made it easier for me to follow them, although they were lightning quick. They seemed to be jumping from foot to foot rather than running.

  They were pulling away from me until Roydell tripped over a fallen branch. He tumbled forward and rolled over on his shoulder, landing on his right side.

  I veered left to avoid a tree trunk and jumped over the branches. Roydell scrambled as his hands and feet moved wildly, tossing leaves in the air as he tried to get back up. I crouched down, bending my knees, and dove into his back. My shoulder crunched into him and he bent backward before his upper body sprang forward, his face smashing into the ground. While he was disoriented, I turned him over.

  I drew back my right hand, curled it into a fist, and brought it down on Roydell’s right cheek. “Don’t set foot on my land, motherfucker.” I hit him four more times.

  He cried out, “We know Reg is here. He told us to come get him.”

  “Wrong answer.” I rained down three more punches and a stream of blood poured out of his nose.

  At the last second, I caught a blurry black smear coming from the left. A solid object crashed into my ear, disrupting my equilibrium. I braced my hand on the ground so that I wouldn’t fall down, but my bell had been rung. While I was out of it, Roydell slipped out from under me.

  He and Timson ran off into the woods, disappearing from my sight within seconds. I realized that Timson had kicked me in the side of the head and checked my jaw for structural damage. When I pressed gently with my fingers and thumb, it seemed all right. Nothing out of place. Just a whole heap of pain.

  This certainly amped up the situation. Reviving a dead body wasn’t as easy as I had expected. Every technique I’d tried had failed miserably. I hadn’t been able to get Reg to open his eyes once.

  The vampires practiced modern necromancy and Reg apparently had loose lips. I walked back into my back yard and my phone buzzed in my pocket. Incoming call from Jonathan.

  Just so happened I wanted to talk to him. “Hello.”

  Jonathan spoke with a raspy voice, “Micheal, I just got back in town. Listened to the message about Alayna and that’s quite a shame. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

  “I won’t. I need to talk to you about something else.”

  “Okay.”

  I explained, “Two of your flunkies, Roydell and Timson were just hiding out on my property. You tell those fucks that if they ever set foot on my land and accuse me wrongly again, I’ll fucking kill them. You need to get your boys under control.”

  “Take it easy. I’ll talk to them. Have you heard any news on Reginald?”

  Fuck. I hoped he wasn’t going to ask about that. “No. You know I’d tell you first, though. I wouldn’t hold out on you.”

  “Sometimes I wonder. Sometimes. I. Wonder,” he said, slowly and steadily.

  “Excuse me?” I asked, annoyed.

  He cleared his throat and said, “Oh, nothing. Just wanted to send my condolences. If there is anything I can do to ease the pain, let me know. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to take a twelve-hour nap after a sleepless trip to Romania.”

  “Warn Roydell and Timson. I’m not messing around. I will kill them and not think twice about it. Keep your dogs on a leash.”

  He laughed. “Will do, Micheal. You take care of yourself now.”

  “Yeah, you do the same.”

  I pressed end call and stuffed the phone back into my pocket.

  This was normal. This was what my life had become. A few years ago I couldn’t have imagined any of this. Now, this was a Tuesday. That was why I wanted out of this shit.

  As I walked back to my house, I stared at my new little family. Would they ever really be safe with me around? It seemed like I attracted the worst of the worst. The dregs of the demon and supernatural societies.

  Chapter 2

  I slid into the booth at Primanti Brothers and the waitress with the platinum blond hair pulled into a bun slapped two menus on the table. “You fellas want something to drink?”

  “I actually know what I want to eat,” I said and looked at Felix.

  “I’m just going to get a large Diet Coke,” Felix said, winking at the server.

  I smirked, trying to hide it. I hadn’t pegged Felix as a Diet Coke drinker.

  “Okay. And what did you want, sir?” asked the woman with Tara written across her nametag.

  I looked at her, smiling and ordered, “I’m going to get a ginger ale. And I would like the Pitts-Burger. No tomatoes, please.”

  “No problem. Be right back with your drinks, boys.” She swiped up the menus, shoved her pen into her apron, and as she turned, she ripped our order off the little notebook, and headed for the kitchen.

  We sat in a booth in the corner of the room and I wondered why Felix had asked to meet up. “So what’s going on?”

  “I have an idea.” A crazy look ran through his dark eyes as he moved his head closer.

  “Uh oh.”

  He shook his head and held his finger in the air. “Just listen. It’s a good idea, but I need a little help. I want to bust in to Sleepy Willow and do a little looting to pad our pockets.”

  I rolled my eyes hoping this wasn’t his entire plan. “That is a horrible idea.”

  The server dropped off our drinks and tossed two straws in the middle of the table. “Your food should be ready in a few minutes, honey.”

  Felix grabbed a straw, busted it out of the white paper covering and jammed it into his diet coke. He got right back on point. “It’s a terrible place that is full of gold.” His eyes widened, gold fever flecks dancing in his brown irises. I didn’t like it one bit. He added, “If we take out the king and get revenge for Alayna, then people would be forced to obey us.”

  I had no urge whatsoever to rule over anyone. “See, right there you are talking about a regime takeover. Not just a little looting. Even if I wanted to go to Sleepy Willow, I can’t gain entry without one of Cerberus’s teeth.”

  He slid his back against the wall, seemingly annoyed, and kicked his leg up on the bench seat. “Not if we just bust in, kicking ass and taking names.” He turned back to me. His gold fever eyes were losing their brilliance. “Look what we did in Japan.”

  “Very different situations.” I looked around the room, hoping my food was on the way so I could end this nonsensical conversation. “That was one demon in a secluded castle. This involves supernatural armies that are loyal to their king. Besides, all the bouncer has to do is hit me with an enchanted scepter and I’ll turn to mush. There’s no way to avoid Primero’s shack.”

  He took a drink through his straw and his eyes widened as if a thought had struck him. “What if I find another portal that will get us into another area of Sleepy Willow?”

  I hoped this wouldn’t turn into a spitballing, brainstorming session. I tried to shift the conversation. “Look, this actually ties into something I need to talk to you about. The next time I see the Celtic Gods, I’m going to tell them I am taking a step back from magical guardianship of Pittsburgh.”

  “Why?” he asked, his face turning sour. He nervously bit his thumbnail, sending a loud crunch across the di
ning room.

  I explained, “Because it can just be too much sometimes. I have a family now and I need to spend some time with them. I need to be there for Dante. I can’t be running around like a maniac anymore.”

  Felix stared at me, squinting in confusion. “You think they’ll go for it?”

  “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. If I told them you could be the go-to-guy around Pittsburgh, would you be interested?” Hopefully, I could appeal to his vanity.

  “How much does it pay?” he asked bluntly, and pulled a little piece of his thumbnail out of his mouth. He stuffed it inside his napkin and looked back to me.

  I’d forgotten that money sat at the top of Felix’s totem pole of priorities. I told him, “The Celtic Gods aren’t going to pay you anything. I’ve made money off the jobs, but none of it has ever come from the Gods themselves. It will open a lot of doors and with me out of the way, you’ll have your pick of the litter if you want to make some money.”

  “I don’t know...” He scratched the peach fuzz on his chin, as if it were some sort of negotiating tactic, waiting for me to say something.

  I finally gave in. “It would be a lot easier than busting into Sleepy Willow. That I am certain of. You’ll be the premier practitioner in Pittsburgh. You’d be backed by the Celtic Gods too. They’ve helped me get rid of cancer, removed that implant and stopped my drinking habit.”

  He shook his head and took another sip of Diet Coke. At least he was entertaining the idea. “You’re selling this pretty hard. This Alayna shit is really fucking with you, isn’t it?”

  I lifted my head up and met his dark eyes. Nodding slowly, I confirmed his question in silence.

  Felix said, “You have to let it go in this biz. We just need to worry about ourselves. Shit isn’t always going to work out.”

  “She was like a mother to me. At a time when I really needed one. She was my mentor. And I fucking handed her right over to her death. Who’s to say that will be the last time? If I do something like this again, I would have to eliminate myself for the good of the whole.” I hated getting heavy on people, but this shit was weighing on me.

 

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