The Death Series, Books 1-3 (Dark Dystopian Paranormal Romance): Death Whispers, Death Speaks, and Death Inception

by Tamara Rose Blodgett

I almost missed grabbing Onyx by the collar as he lunged at the group of cops that were approaching, guns naked in their hands.

  “Knock it off, Onyx, you bad dog,” I shook him slightly, he was never aggressive. What the hell was the matter with him?

  McGraw's eyes lighted on Onyx. “You have a vicious dog there, Caleb.”

  “No sir. I think it's all the commotion with the formula people trespassing on Grampsʼ property today,” I said in my best diffuse the adult suspicion voice.

  Mom raised an eyebrow and I was hoping she wouldn't blow it, she could smell A Tone a mile away.

  The cops trained their weapons on the remaining agents.

  Gale sunk to her knees by the agent that my zombie had nearly amputated. “We need a medic,” Her thumb dropped to the pulse at her side.

  Ya think?

  After about three seconds she raised her eyes to Smith. “What about the other guy?”

  Smith looked down at Smoker, his skin grayer than usual, and bent over him, taking his pulse. “Thready, but there.”

  Garcia slammed his pistol into its holster. “Okay, can someone, anyone, tell me what is going on here in as few words as possible?” Out came the notepad.

  No one said anything, except Jonesy, “These ass clowns showed up and wanted to take Caleb and Tiff in for questioning because they think the serial creeper is skulking around the crime scene and knows they're helping.”

  Garcia opened his mouth and Jonesy took a lungful, continuing, “so he called the Zombie Tribe again and they diced and sliced up the formula—”

  “—people,” I said slowly, in awe of Jonesy's rant.

  “Yeah, and then when their pet Null got his ass handed to him the other agents were going to cooperate and you guys showed up.” He smiled. To Jonesy it was his Undeniable Logic at work again.

  My parents bowed their heads. Helen and Bill looked on helplessly as Jonesy's words sunk in.

  Garcia opened his mouth again and Jonesy added one more thing, “Oh, and our man Caleb, here, he can speak Indian too.” He swept out a palm toward me like, how cool is that?

  “Language, young man. I'm not feeling that badly,” Helen commented.

  Somehow, I didn't think it was the language that got the copsʼ attention.

  “Incredible,” McGraw said. “Is he always like that?”

  Tiff grunted. “Jonesy? Yeah.”

  McGraw shook his head, trying to wrap his mind around the Fearless Commentary.

  After a few moments of stunned silence, Garcia said, “Okay, maybe,” he looked around, dismissing my parents as shell-shocked. Come to think of it, Dad was looking a little gray and Mom was paler than usual. His eyes landed on Gramps, “Okay, you are a... what?”

  “Grandfather to Caleb.”

  Garcia's brows came together. “Fine. I won't even address the state of your property and how it breaks every environmental law we have in place and ones we don't have.”

  Sophie, who had been quiet so far piped in, “He's ʻgrandfatheredʼ, Sergeant Garcia.”

  Wow.

  Jonesy smiled. He was such a bad influence on us.

  Gramps looked over at Sophie and gave her a small smile. “The state of my property should be the least of your problems, Garcia. Let's start with these government boys illegally entering my property to seize my grandson and the little girl here.”

  He looked at Tiff and she humphed, “I'm fifteen in November!”

  Bry gave her an elbow in the ribs and put his finger over his lips like, would ya shut up for cripe's sake!

  Grampsʼ smile widened. “And I defended what's mine. My daughter and her friends, whoever has express invitation to be here, was here. They,” he pointed to the agents, “came barging in, and that's when I got the puppy.”

  Smith looked over the bullpup and nodded. “Good home defense weapon, that.”

  Gramps grunted.

  Garcia slapped his forehead, as his pulse began vibrating. He pressed his thumb to the pad, nodding several times, lifting then depressing. “We're going to need a level five Organic to get this mess contained.”

  Huh, why contain it? Let these two assassins rot for all I care. I guess some of what I thought must've leaked out on my face because McGraw's eyes narrowed on me.

  “You seem a little more mature this year, Caleb.”

  I shrugged, how do you answer that one? Seemed like a word trap set by an adult that didn't like me. Not answering seemed smarter. I drew Jade in next to my body.

  He eyed Jade up, which I didn't like and Onyx growled again. Onyx had Asshole Alert on full throttle today.

  The paramedics came and perched beside the two suits like two bright red dots in a sea of green.

  We moved back to talk quietly as the rest of the formula people began speaking with Garcia and McGraw.

  Gale walked over to us. “Okay, spill it,” she said.

  I laughed. “It's what Jonesy said. They barged in here, threatened to take us, and I had to call in the zombie troops. Plus, they had a Null, he was going to shut me down.”

  That got Smith's attention. “How many points?”

  I held up my palm, splaying five fingers.

  Smith palmed his chin. “There aren't a lot of fives running around.”

  “In any ability,” John said.

  “Amen,” Jonesy said.

  Smith looked over at the medics working on Agent Null and Jezebel the Organic came jogging to their side.

  “Looks like he might need to engage in a little physical therapy in the future. It'll make his Null stuff take a back seat for a little while,” Smith said.

  “Nah. Like I said, it's just a flesh wound,” Jonesy said.

  Bry was nodding. “Yeah, he'll be okay.”

  Tiff, who thought the boys were serious said, “No, doofus. The zombie about chopped off that guy's arm.”

  “It'll leave a mark,” John said with a straight face.

  Jade laughed.

  Dad smirked, even Bill lightened up.

  “It's hopeless,” Sophie said.

  “And now they know about me,” Alex said quietly.

  All of us looked at him. His board shorts swimming around his waist, his glasses hung off his nose crookedly.

  I swung an arm around his narrow shoulders. “It's okay dude, at least your mom doesn't complain about the house reeking like cemetery all the time.” I raised my eyebrows. That coaxed a small grin out of him. All the same, we surveyed Grampsʼ yard as the cops talked to the suits, and the parents wove in between the destruction at their feet.

  Jonesy broke the silence, “So, is it time for cake yet?”

  Helen and Mom groaned.

  Gramps looked at him, placing a big palm on top of his bristly hair. “It's the perfect time, champ.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  It was as special as I thought it'd be.

  All the teens balanced their cake on their knees while the cops questioned us for two hours. Basically: they couldn't nail Gramps for his home defense tactics, my zombies showed up because I was “in fear for my life,” and they [formula people] had brought weapons.

  The entire tamale was a stalemate, because these chumps had their perfect paperwork all in order. They had truly, on paper, only wanted to question us.

  And monkeys were gonna fly outta my ass.

  Finally, they all left with the promise of getting together with the cop-squad (as I was starting to think of Gale, Garcia and Smith). After all, the formula people had turned the spotlight on a new problem: the serial killer was an insider. Where had they gotten their information? Who knew? We'd all wondered about that very thing. Obviously, it would be someone that had access to the paranormals and who was manifesting what. And then there was the female that lured the victims.

  What a mess.

  Gramps was having a second piece of cake.

  Helen's face changed color as she watched him taking bites.

  Gramps pointed a fork at me. “That worked me up into a fine appetite, young man.”r />
  The Js laughed, and the Parents scowled.

  Dad's arm was in a sling from the sprain he received when one of the agents had done a hyper-flex on the thing, a fat lip (a pouty girl look that wasn't right on his face, but I didn't say), and a huge scrape from temple to jaw. Taking one for the team.

  “Pop, I'm worried,” Mom said.

  “Don't you worry, Peanut,” Gramps said, stabbing another bite of cake. “I have pulse wires around this place, timed for random settings. Let ʼem try.”

  I didn't think Gramps was gung-ho for tech stuff.

  The teens put their forks down at the same time. “So that means,” Bry began.

  Jonesy made the bomb sound with his mouth, hands bursting above his head.

  John and Alex looked surprised.

  Mom sighed.

  “Isn't that on a ʻneed to knowʼ thing, Mac?” Jade asked.

  I smiled at her. She was smart too. Smart's Hot.

  Gramps grinned like she was his prize pupil. “It is, but it's my belief this group can handle it.” His gray eyes, so like my mom's it was eerie, looked at each person.

  Slowly, everyone nodded.

  Bill said, “They pissed me off. They came here and were going to essentially kidnap some of our children.”

  Great, I knew that would start the political talk from Gramps.

  “Back in my day—”

  “Pop.””

  He held up his hand. “Just a sec, Alicia.”

  Mom's mouth closed with a snap. That would have never worked with anyone else.

  “We followed our Constitution. Now, it has been amended five hundred fifty million times and we can barely have a gun for our homes. The criminals have more rights than the innocents.”

  “Well, damn, Mac, you sure have enough weaponry,” Jonesy said.

  “Language,” Helen said.

  Jonesy rolled his eyes.

  Bill gave him The Look.

  “Sorry, Mom,” Jonesy grumped.

  Gramps had the crooked mouth, and suddenly I realized where I got the urge to Laugh at Inappropriate Times from. Could've done without that.

  “Do you really have a minefield here, Mac?” Bry asked.

  The teens leaned forward.

  He nodded. “Not like what you're thinking. Nobody's going to die, but they may leave a little lighter.”

  Tiff barked out a laugh. “Involuntary amputation.”

  “Something like that,” he agreed with a wink.

  “Speaking of that, I heard something really funny,” Tiff said.

  We looked at her. “It's a joke about clowns,” she continued.

  Bry frowned. “You hate clowns.”

  Sophie rolled her eyes. “Gnomes, dummy.”

  “Whatever, they're all pretty creepy,” Jade said.

  I looked at her. Hadn't known she had it in for them.

  “Anyway,” Tiff said, protracting the syllables “What do you do with an amputee with wings?”

  Holy shit, Mom was gonna have a goat. I looked at her quickly and her breathing had become erratic and her eyes were beginning to bulge, but Tiff wasn't known for catching subtleties.

  “I give, what?” Jonesy said, vaguely interested.

  “You put chain saws on all the stumps and set them loose on the clowns.”

  Alex and Tiff started howling but nobody else.

  Sophie and Jade looked at Tiff as Mom was gasping in the background.

  “That's truly twisted,” Sophie said with a vague smile.

  Tiff was trying to rein it in.“It's an old one!”

  Alex turned to the rest of the teens. “And you said I was weird for the blow-up doll!?”

  All the parents and Gramps looked at Alex.

  Who belatedly realized that little gem got them thinking in the wrong direction.

  He began to stutter some response when Bill held up his hand. “I think we're going to forget we heard that last comment.”

  “You kids are some strange rangers,” Gramps said without rancor.

  Bry, the only mundane said, “Let's talk about that.”

  Gramps looked at him expectantly, “We have two kids that have a thing for the dead—”

  “I wouldn't say I have a ʻthingʼ for them,” I started.

  Everyone stared at me.

  Okay.

  Bry discounted my comment, continuing, “An Empath who dates an AFTD, a girl that can project her spirit or whatever, a super-human strength guy, a Null—and then the real kicker—a mystery paranormal.” Bry shook his head.

  We looked at Jonesy.

  “Exactly my point, son, a motley crew,” Gramps said.

  “I guess what I mean is that's the ʻnew normalʼ now,” Bry said.

  Grampsʼ face lit up. “Been meaning to ask, where's the cute little number you had here last time?”

  “Barbie,” Tiff clarified.

  Gramps frowned. “No, I thought her name was Chloe, Cindy, Christine—”

  “It's Christi, and yeah, she dumped me.”

  We were all quiet for a second.

  “She was a hot little ticket.”

  Mom frowned at Gramps. He added quickly, “But she thought a lot of herself.”

  “She needed her broomstick all the time,” Jonesy said.

  Gramps laughed.

  “Plus, she was big-time prejudiced.”

  Helen and Bill looked at Jonesy like elaborate.

  He shrugged, hesitating. “She didn't like AFTDs, and she didn't like me because I'm African-American.”

  Gramps scrubbed a rough hand over his face. Slowly, he said, “I think, for someone that has that mindset,” he tapped his head, “they don't like anything or anyone that's different.”

  “She liked that horse's ass Carson. Because he's the same as her brother, Pyrokenetic,” Sophie said.

  No one corrected her language.

  Gramps nodded. “That exactly affirms my point. Whatever she deems as ʻacceptableʼ should be all there is, in her opinion. What she doesn't understand is that we're this big.” Gramps put his index finger and thumb a hair's breadth from touching. “Our differences are our strengths. It's her ignorance showing. And a lot of air between the ears.”

  “Which is a way to prove you're stupid if anyone was doubting,” John said.

  Dad looked at him. “Where'd you hear that?”

  “My dad. He said purposeful ignorance is the same as stupid.”

  A smile hovered at Dad's lips. “Pretty close.”

  Jonesy said, “More jokes. This,” he waved his hand around, “is too heavy for the birthday bash.”

  I laughed. “Did you think your birthday was going to turn out this way?”

  Jonesy looked at me seriously. “Dude, with you anything can happen. And,” he pointed his spork straight in the air, “I did get cake so everything's cool,” he finished, spearing a bite and popping it into his mouth.

  The simplicity that is Jonesy.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  The week kept grinding on, Alex had been put into the first core class for what they were classifying as (surprise!) Body. This quantified anyone who manifested physical attributes beyond normal range. Throwing zombies and people fifteen or twenty feet apparently qualified.

  Go figure.

  They were completely puzzled by Jonesy, but he wasn't too worried. He was in the school he wanted to be in and thought about it like this: (he told me during Algebra I, when we should've been studying), “...I figure, my skills will come online when I need them. Like when some catastrophe happens, like when I'm with you. Perfect.”

  I slunk down in my seat. “Sometimes, I just want to get together and hang, and not have a bunch of strange shit come up.” I flung my hood over my head as the Math teacher went on about integers.

  Jonesy socked me in my arm.

  I stifled a very unguy-like yelp. “Hey, dumbass, save that for the losers.”

  His almost black eyes got very close to mine. “Cut the Emo shit Hart. We need you to be you. You feel me?�
� His voice was serious for once.

  We stared at each other. I knew what he meant, but maybe I didn't always want to be the reasonable one. I wanted a vacation from all this crap: the government, the losers riding my ass, and especially this murdering freak that was targeting the safety net of all paranormals.

  John, who was completely ignoring the lecture because he'd tested out of integers two weeks ago said, “It sucks Caleb, but sometimes people get dealt the shit end of the stick, and you have to work with what you've been given.”

  “Misters Hart, Terran and Jones—would you boys like to share what's so critical that you need to compete with my important talk on Integers?”

  Wonderful.

  John saved us with, “Both Jonesy and Caleb had some questions on your first lecture from yesterday and I was bringing them up to speed, Mr. Tyler,” he lied smoothly.

  They stared at each other for about ten seconds. “That is very helpful, Mr. Terran, next time, try to restrain your enthusiasm for a time when I am not also talking.”

  “Okay.”

  That was a close one.

  We survived boring Math, and were shoving all our crap in lockers that weren't next to one another (freshmen got the shaft on choosing locker assignment).

  Jade, Sophie, Tiff and Mia came walking up. I glanced at Mia then right back to Jade. Gorgeous as usual, in skin-tight black jeans that flared at the knee and almost dragged the ground, hot pink ballet flats poking out underneath.

  Jonesy dug an elbow into my ribs. “Wake up, dipshit.”

  I laughed. “Was I staring?”

  Jade grinned. “Kinda.”

  “Totally,” John said without too much accusation as he was sort of staring at Tiff.

  I think there was a group shift going on.

  I hadn't seen Mia since the unfortunate Scenic Incident, in which I had raised Gran last year and the Weller kids looked like battering rams.

  She was one of those girls that didn't look her age, but looked eighteen already. I knew she was around our age.

  “How old are you?” Jonesy asked, unconcerned by manners.

  Bry, who had just walked up, heard Jonesy's question. “You're a sophomore, right?” he directed at her.

  “Yeah,” she said, flicking a piece of stick straight, honey-colored hair behind her shoulder.