Modern Merlin: A Standalone Prequel (Bloodline Awakened Supernatural Thriller Series Book 3)

by Jason Paul Rice

  Back on his feet now, Mike stumbled over to an oak tree. He hugged the trunk. He united with the roots of the tree, reaching down to the coldest underground cave. He became one with the trunk and summoned the memories of winters past. And finally, he thought about the branches that touched the sky. He peered up at the sky, and the moon glided out from behind a dark cloud.

  Mike reached to heights he never would have reached for only a week ago. He left this world and sent his mind and soul to the far side of the moon. He stood on its surface, impervious to the conditions. He sucked in some bright dust, and immediately felt his core temperature drop.

  Mike hadn’t a clue as to how much magic he could handle. But his brief talk with the Gods and Goddesses coupled with his four-hour study session had given him great confidence. He pulled in more freezing air while his mind and soul returned to earth.

  He still needed something to tie everything together. Mike wracked his stressed brain for one more idea. He couldn’t handle much more as his insides were freezing to death. His movement slowed as he ran his hand down the side of the trunk. Animals.

  He hadn’t developed a connection to any animal yet, but knew one person he could call on. Morrigan. He knew they were the only animals that would go into Houlihan’s Square.

  “Goddess, grant your creatures flight,

  If you will, I have a plight,

  Many wings, they have great might,

  Strength to borrow on this great night.”

  Mike looked up at the sky. Nothing. It had been worth a shot. He decided to foolishly press on without any assistance from the sky. His organs were threatening to shut down because of the great chill running through his body. He couldn’t waste any more time.

  George appeared just beyond some heavy brush, looking to finish him off, Mike presumed, and continued his robotic movements toward the killer as his muscles and ligaments started to freeze. A great commotion sounded from above, and in the next moment a murder of crows descended through the tree branches. Mike thought they might attack him until the birds veered left, toward George.

  More specifically, George’s wife. Hundreds, if not thousands of birds swarmed Bellana’s dead body and tried to get a snack. George rushed back to her, flailing his arms around trying to swat the black birds away. The crows began to pull the body away, but George snatched Bellana’s ankle and dragged her back.

  Mike watched and waited.

  More crows rained down and attacked the dead witch’s body. George was overwhelmed by the angry birds, and they pulled him away from his wife. The crows picked the body up off the ground, and George went wild.

  He shook away the dogged birds for a moment and pulled his wife back down. Mike formed his plan and waited. So many birds surrounded George that he could barely be seen behind the avian blanket. Another group of birds lifted George’s wife off the ground again.

  George bucked and thrashed around, hitting multiple crows with every movement. He lunged for his wife, and Mike took his chance. He summoned the chill from deep inside his reservoir and chucked it toward George...

  But he didn’t know how to release it. He whistled through the pain to alert the crows to leave, and a sparkling silver dust came out of his mouth as he did so. A-ha!

  Mike took a deep breath and spewed out more moon dust in George’s direction. The crows dispersed as the freezing smoke hit the murderer’s body.

  Mike watched for George’s reaction, ready to retreat again.

  No movement.

  It had worked. Mike couldn’t believe it, but he knew he needed to act quickly. He thought about The Daghdha and his chiseled frame. He remembered when the God had told him that strength was totally mental.

  Mike held his hands together like a club and spun in two circles, drawing nearer to George with every turn. He took one last spin, and the maneuver culminated in Mike’s fists meeting the side of George’s head, just above his ear. Mike’s hands rang in pain as he watched George’s frozen head topple off his neck and land on the ground.

  No blood had come from the decapitation, and Mike wondered if George was really dead. He walked closer to the body. Still no blood. Mike took two more steps, and that was when the chilling effects wore off and blood gushed from the neck of the body and head. The crows returned and attacked both pieces of George.

  Mike took a few steps back and stared the vanquished murderer that had terrorized his town for centuries. George lay dead about ten feet away.

  Dead.

  The killer was finally dead.

  Mike had completed the quest he had set out on. But would it end up costing him his life?

  He knew he barely clung onto life. Each exhale seemed to be more than he was inhaling. Too much leaving his lungs and not enough going in. Mike reminisced about his mom. He wanted to die with pleasant memories in his head.

  I got him for you, Mom. I got him good. I finally accomplished something for the good of everyone. I hope you are finally proud of me. I did it all for you. I might die, but I avenged your murder.

  Mike remembered his eighth birthday party again. The images were catching fuzzy interference, like an out-of-tune TV station. He could only concentrate on the pain. His cauterized wound had busted open in many places, and dark blood seeped from the ruptures.

  It was too much. Mike stopped fighting. It had become too hard. His mind and body wanted out. He closed his eyes, and a bright light appeared in front of him. Mike ran toward the light, as it would take away the pain. It was almost over. Just a few more steps.

  The voices creaked like old wood and promised to take away the agony. “No more pain.”

  The brightness turned to darkness.

  Still. Calm. Dead. Darkness.

  Chapter 28

  A PETITE HAND SHOOK Mike’s limp body on the ground. Nothing.

  The hand checked for a pulse. Nothing.

  The hand put two fingers against the side of Mike’s neck. Nothing.

  The hand held a finger under Mike’s nose. Nothing.

  The hand shook Mike again. Nothing.

  The hand shaped into a fist and punched Mike’s chest in disappointment. The internal engine of a body started to rev. A warm buzzing circled around Mike’s heart, kickstarting it into life.

  Mike sat up suddenly, and Emily wrapped her hands around him. “Oh, my God. I thought you were dead. I can’t believe you did it. He’s actually dead.”

  Mike pointed at his misshapen face and jaw. He made a talking symbol with his hand and shook his head to indicate he couldn’t talk. He could talk, but it caused so much pain and he decided this was easier.

  Emily hovered over him, bawling. From head to toe, Mike looked like he had just survived a major battle, which he more or less had.

  Emily tried to help him up, but couldn’t support his weight, and Mike went crashing to the ground again. A few more spots on the gash on his right arm opened up, and the warning buzz of a shocked system ran through his body. Streaking stars and random colors teamed with dizziness and swirled around his head. He made it to his hands and knees and vomited.

  Emily patted him on the back until he was finished throwing up and helped him up again. Mike stumbled to his right and planted his right palm on the bark of an oak tree trunk. He waited to regain his equilibrium and stared at the dead body of George going in and out of focus until the image steadied. The crows were picking at his flesh, and although it was disgusting, the killer was finally dead.

  He wanted to smile, but the action never made it to his lips. It had been intercepted by the pain coursing through his entire body. From head to toe, Mike’s battered body exposed early bruising, bleeding, broken bones and major swelling in several areas.

  Mike leaned heavily on Emily’s shoulder as she helped him get out of the woods. As they traveled through the darkness, crushing fallen leaves and twigs scattered below, Houlihan’s Square didn’t have the same aura it had when he had entered. A slight sense of relief ran through Mike’s chest, but due to the broken ribs, it
was hard to detect.

  Mike’s right arm hung low, blood dripping from every fingertip. Competing thoughts collided in his head. His future with Emily. Memories of his childhood. His father walking out on him. Had he imagined Alayna? Was his mother proud of him? Or was he just a murderer now?

  Emily cried the entire walk through the woods. They broke through the tree line, and the street lights gave Mike a sense of hope. He made it to the Jeep, and Emily helped him get into the passenger seat. The interior light further exposed Mike’s battered body. He closed his eyes.

  Emily opened the back door and searched around the back seat for a minute. She got in the driver’s seat and handed Mike a small notebook and a pen.

  Emily’s eye makeup had been smeared onto her cheeks. She tried to wipe it away with the back of her thumb. The attempt only spread it around more, but she still looked like an angel to Mike.

  “I still can’t believe what happened back there. We need to get you to a hospital.”

  Mike scribbled into the notebook, tore the page out and handed it to Emily. “No hospital. I need to heal myself. No insurance anyway.”

  “Mike, don’t worry about insurance. You might die.” Emily shoved the key into the ignition.

  Mike wrote again. “Trust me. Let’s just go to Pittsburgh and I can heal myself. I promise.”

  “Alright. I’ll drive as fast as I can.” She started the car and peeled out.

  The tires screeched from taking a bend too fast.

  Mike had never been in love before, but Emily had brought out feelings that no other girl had.

  They got onto the highway, and Emily pushed down the gas pedal, planting the back of Mike’s skull into the headrest. His body wanted to pass out from exhaustion, but the Five-Hour Energy wouldn’t allow it.

  Mike tried to remember the spells of healing magic. He’d only read a few pages about that and nothing came to mind. Grunting with the effort, he turned his back to the steering wheel so that Emily couldn’t see and started by cauterizing his gaping wound again.

  Mike flinched as his red-hot fingertip made contact and his forearm skin bubbled like a liquid. He stretched and pasted the skin from the other side of the gash to the burning flesh. He kept pinching the wound together and waited for it to seal tight.

  Mike continued using magic to heal his body, bruise by bruise and bone by broken bone. He hadn’t made the pain go away completely, but he had dulled it substantially. Only one part of his body wouldn’t take to the healing spells—his jaw. He attempted every healing power that he could remember to clean up the sloppy job he had done back in the forest.

  The dazed young man looked up just as they passed a road sign.

  Pittsburgh

  5 Miles

  About five minutes later, they turned off the turnpike and quickly found a Days Inn. Mike waited in the car while Emily went inside and returned with a room key.

  Stiff and sore, Mike let himself slide out of the car and held onto the door to stabilize himself.

  Emily grabbed the bag of money and another small travel case out of the back seat. Mike knew he would have to walk under his own power. Emily carried the case and dragged the bag of money as they walked toward the room.

  Thankfully, the motel setting of the Days Inn allowed them to go right into a room without causing a scene in the lobby or on the elevator.

  Mike limped up to their room and waited for Emily to open the door, staring at the ice machine next to their room. It conjured memories of his last effort defeating George and something told him to pull in some of the chill just in case they were followed by any shady characters.

  Emily slid the credit card-style key into the slot and a green light appeared, followed by a soft ring. She pushed down the straight knob and shoved the turquoise door open.

  Once, she’d tossed the bags inside, she turned on the lamp sitting on the desk near the door and every other light she could find, and returned to Mike.

  “Now we can get a good look at you.”

  Mike didn’t gain much confidence from her horrified facial expression. She sat Mike down in a brown chair and went to the bathroom, returning shortly with some towels and soaps.

  “There isn’t really anything good in the bathroom for treating infections or anything like that. Do you want me to go to the store and get some medical supplies?”

  Mike pulled the notebook and paper out of his pocket and scribbled a note.

  I should be alright if we just stop most of the bleeding. I think I can flush out any infections. It’s my jaw that is the major problem right now.

  “Oh, honey, I feel so bad.” She planted a soft kiss on his lips, and the light contact hurt his mouth. “What can I do for you?”

  Mike shrugged his shoulders. Emily grabbed the smaller bag and unzipped it. She casually set it next to the chair.

  “I have an idea. Let’s get those shorts off so I can see if your legs are okay.”

  Emily gently helped to pull Mike’s shorts off, exposing a tapestry of blood, bumps and bruising. She cringed at the sight but didn’t say anything. She pulled Mike’s boxers off next and took a few steps back.

  “I know what will make you feel better.” Emily gyrated around in a sexy striptease and started by removing her shirt. She danced around and unhooked her bra, which fell harmlessly to the floor. Emily turned around, bent over, and slowly and teasingly slid her shorts to the ground. She hooked two thumbs into her red thong and pushed the piece of silk down to her ankles.

  She stepped out of the sexy panties and approached Mike. “Don’t move. I’m going to do all the work. Just let me take the pain away.”

  Mike wasn’t sure this would take any pain away, but he certainly wasn’t going to stop Emily. She dropped to her knees and started to orally pleasure Mike. He closed his eyes, and some of the pain faded as a buzz ran through his head.

  Emily continued for a few minutes and Mike opened his eyes again. She looked up and smiled at Mike before returning to pleasing him. Mike wanted to say, ‘I love you’, when a silver flash of streaking light captured his attention.

  He frantically called for the spell in his head within a fraction of a second. Did he recite the two words correctly? If not, he would be a dead man. He waited for the pain in his chest and looked down. No blood?

  Chapter 29

  MIKE LOOKED DOWN AT the silver knife, the tip of the blade only a quarter-inch from his chest. His spell to freeze her body had worked. His heart hurt. Tears broke loose. He couldn’t believe she had tried to kill him.

  Why her? Why couldn’t I get one girl in this world? Why did this have to happen?

  Mike pulled himself away from Emily’s frozen body, her right hand still clutching the knife. He knew the only solution to this problem, and it crushed him to even think about it. Distraught, he staggered around in disbelief.

  “You know what you have to do, right?”

  Mike spun around at hearing Alayna’s voice. He shrugged his shoulders.

  “I can fix your jaw if you want me to, but you know what you have to do with her.”

  Mike took a few steps closer to Alayna. She held up her hand. “Easy with that thing there. You’re likely to put my eye out.”

  Mike put his boxers back on and returned to Alayna. She already had a cauldron set up on a portable burner in the corner of the room. Alayna pulled at a hidden zipper in the center of her dress. Her purple garment opened like a trench coat. The inside looked like a medicine cabinet with vials of liquids, baggies of herbs, and flower buds tucked into individual compartments.

  Alayna set several items on the small table. She gathered all the essential elements and threw them into the cauldron. A green plume of smoke rushed out of the black cast iron cooking vessel, accompanied by confusing smells of herbs, garlic, citrus and black licorice alcohol that clashed with each other and seemed to come at Mike in separate waves.

  Alayna stirred the concoction for several minutes. She dipped her hand into the boiling contents and pulled ou
t a steaming pile of green and orange paste. With her clean hand, she gestured for Mike to get closer. He leaned down to make it easier for her.

  She rubbed some of the mixed paste over his entire face, and Mike could feel the heat and healing power. His jaw became very tight, and he thought it might snap as the bones fused back together. A rush of intense agony was soon replaced by a tingling sensation so uncomfortable he wanted to pass out.

  But that too, passed, and Mike’s jaw soon felt normal again. It felt million times more successful than the sloppy surgery back in Houlihan’s Square.

  He tried it out. “What are you doing here?”

  “Looking out for you. That’s what I do, don’t you know? You only have a few minutes before your spell wears off.”

  “I know. I know. Can’t you take the dark spirits away? Make her return to normal again? An exorcism or something? I really thought she was special.”

  “She probably was. I mean, is. Unfortunately, once a person is heavily afflicted with the darkness, no amount of light can cure that soul. It’s like a vampire. She’s been tainted, and just like dispatching George, you need to do this for the benefit of the whole, not the few, and not just you.”

  “How do you kill someone that you might be in love with? How?”

  “I’m so sorry, Mike. I tried to tell you about this. I didn’t want you to get attached to this female. I know it hurts, but you have less than two minutes to do this. If you want, I can do it for you.”

  Mike walked over to Emily and stood behind her. He ran his fingers through her soft hair and searched the depths of his soul for an alternative, any alternative. The dream of them having a simple life together seemed to be for naught. He reached around and caressed her jaw with his right hand as he put his left hand on top of her head.

  She felt cold to the touch.

  Her flesh began to warm.

  Alayna warned, “Ten seconds.”

  Mike didn’t want to do this. He could feel the heat returning to her body.