Graveyard Uprisings (Bloodline Awakened Supernatural Thriller Series Book 2)

by Jason Paul Rice

  Alayna immediately answered, “Who he’s hanging out with. You aren’t jealous of his prowess as a mage. You hate him because he is hanging out with your girlfriend.”

  My jealousy stemmed from my father. No doubt. I took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “I don’t even know if she is officially my girlfriend at this point. She’s been spending more time with him than me.”

  Reg scrunched his eyebrows down and held an open hand up like he was a crossing guard. “Slow down now. He’s one of her only Japanese friends in Pittsburgh. Of course, she’s going to want to hang out with him.”

  “That makes some sense. But if anything happens, I have Gretchen to answer to. Even if it isn’t my fault she’s leaving me for another guy.”

  Alayna poked my side. “I think you need to focus on this zombie rising to keep your mind from this woman.”

  That would probably help. “You’re right. I think I’m going to head over to the office. I’ll be back in a little bit.”

  Alayna had helped me rent an office building twenty feet down the street from my house. The tiny brick building with white siding provided more than enough space for several desks and chairs around the open room. I entered and closed the door quickly, trying not to let the winter air in. I turned to the thermostat by the door and cranked it up.

  My desk sat closest to the door, next to a window that let in the sun’s rays. The warped shadow of my computer monitor stretched across the carpeting.

  I noticed the red light blinking on the corded phone (old school) indicating a new message. I picked up the phone and punched in the code to hear the messages.

  A computerized voice announced, “Message One.” Another voice came through, “Hello, Micheal Merlino. My friends and I require your services for a special job of sorts. It pays tremendously well, but it doesn’t serve to talk about these matters over the phone. Please call 412-555-5334 and ask for Jonathan. I trust you’ll call back. Good day.”

  He pronounced my name correctly, like the classic Michael. I called the number and the phone rang several times. I prepared to leave a message when someone finally answered. A female voice said, “Hello.”

  “Hi, can I speak to Jonathan please?”

  The woman said, “Just a moment.”

  Many moments later someone finally picked up the phone. “Jonathan Rickleshaw.”

  Was this some kind of joke? Jonathan Rickleshaw was one of the thirteen elder vamps who sat on the After Midnight Council. I didn’t know what to say. “This is Mike Merlino. I just had a message from you on my answering machine.” I’d forgotten to use my deep voice routine.

  “Then I’m afraid you realize that I cannot say much more. If you are interested, come to the Purple House after midnight tonight. I can have my secretary give you directions.” He spoke quickly, like an excited theater actor, using smooth, legato bursts and dramatic pauses.

  “I know where it’s at.” Shit, should I not have said that? I don’t know if they are trying to keep it a secret.

  “Excellent. And when I say lots of cash, you can take that to the bank.” Excitement clung to his words, giving them an infectious quality.

  The corners of my mouth started to curl up. “I’ll see you later tonight.”

  “Until then.” He hung up.

  What in God’s name do they want me to do? Was this just an effort to bring me in to kill me? No. He wouldn’t invite me to his home turf, knowing I have an in with the cops. I didn’t doubt he had more than enough money to pay me for a job. The various vampire clans all had substantial amounts of money. Where it came from was anyone’s guess.

  The phone rang again and I looked at it skeptically. This wizard didn’t normally get more than one call a day. I didn’t recognize the number and picked up the phone.

  Remembering this time, I sparked up my Humphrey Bogart speak. I talked like the famous actor to make me seem older. It also helped with my social anxiety issues. “Mike Merlino Detective Service, we specialize in paranormal and occult.”

  A confused female voice came through the line, “Hello?”

  “Yes, hello, Mike Merlino.”

  “I have something you might want to check out,” said a woman with a husky voice.

  “What is your name?”

  “Rebecca Lint. I live out in Indianola on a farm.”

  “Okay Rebecca, what can I help you with?”

  She sighed. “Some crazy stuff is happening out here. It started in the barn and then it moved outside. Or maybe it started outside and then went to the barn and then outside again,” she rambled.

  “What kind of stuff? What is it?”

  She paused for a few moments. “That’s what we need you to tell us. My husband knows more about it than I do. He went out there when that stuff was happening. I think it’s best if you come check it out yourself.”

  “I’m going to need a little more information before I come out to see you. I’ve had too many false alarms putting a major dent in the gas tank.” Stupid, that sounded cheap.

  “It was like different colored fogs shaped like people floating around. Screaming and yelling utter nonsense that shook the walls of the house. The red spirit is raising the other spirits from the ground. I think. I don’t know,” she rambled again, but it added authenticity to her story.

  “I think that’s enough, ma’am. How does tomorrow at two o’clock sound?” I looked at my imaginary watch.

  “That sounds great. We need to do something about this immediately because it keeps getting worse.”

  She gave me her address and I hung up the phone. Two possible private jobs and the police investigation into the rise of the living dead in the same day. The vampire call sounded the most lucrative, but obviously the most dangerous too.

  The floating gases made me think about the Dark Artistry box that I had opened at my house on Halloween. A red spirit had escaped from that box with demonic intentions. It couldn’t be. Could it?

  No. Nine times out of ten, these calls turned out to be absolutely nothing. People thought they had seen something, yet as soon as I show up, it doesn’t come around anymore.

  My cellphone buzzed, and I sat up straight. I pulled it out of my pants pocket and recognized the number.

  “Hey, what’s going on?”

  Satoku said, “Not much. How are you?”

  “Fine. Jobs are rolling in left and right today.”

  Her tone softened, “How are you about your dad?”

  I tried to be strong. “Fine. Don’t even care anymore. I’m laser focused on my job right now. And you, of course.”

  “Of course. I talked to Felix and we want to know if you want to have dinner with us tomorrow?”

  We? Us? What the hell is happening here? “Okay. Sounds good to me. Where do you want to go?”

  “How about Thai Place down the street from where you live?”

  “What time?”

  She paused for a second. “Let’s do early. Five o’clock sound good to you?”

  “Perfect. I have to go up to Indianola to check out a job at four and then I can stop at home and get cleaned up to meet my new buddy,” I laid on the heavy sarcasm toward the end.

  “Don’t be a jerk. I’m warning you now. Just give him a chance.”

  “I will. I promise.”

  She said, “All right. I need to run so I will either talk to you later tonight or tomorrow, okay?”

  “All righty roo.”

  “You dork.”

  I chuckled. “I know, but you love it.”

  “I do. See you later.”

  “Bye.”

  My dance card was filling up nicely over the next day and a half. I was still irate with my father, and trying to let it go by focusing on the new developments of today. I didn’t want to go to dinner with Felix, but if it would make my girlfriend happy, bon apetit. Having girlfriend and family issues at the same time wasn’t good for my wizard brain.

  I tried to think whether the vampire meeting and haunted barn in Indianola were con
nected to the uprising. The watchman at the cemetery stopped just short of saying it was vampires. But they wouldn’t have Men in Black working for them, would they?

  I pulled a notebook out of my desk drawer and jotted down my commitments.

  Meeting with Rebecca Lint at 2:00 p.m. to check out some strange activity.—Tomorrow.

  Dinner with Satoku and Felix at 5:00 p.m.—Tomorrow.

  Meeting with Jonathan Rickleshaw at any time After Midnight.—Tonight!

  The vampire meeting was the most intriguing, and more than likely, the most lucrative one. I didn’t want money to be rich or famous. However, it would be nice not to worry about rent or bills and have some financial independence. It would also put me in a position to be more charitable.

  I went home and spent most of the day reading a book called, A Shifter’s Voyage. I took a short nap and woke up to my cell phone alarm going off at midnight. I slid my thumb across the screen to stop it.

  Time to go see Jonathan Rickleshaw, elder vampire of the Purple Clan.

  4

  The Purple House was located in an affluent area called South Hills. I crept up the long, snaking driveway in my car as the mansion came into view. Alayna had helped me finance a black 2002 Nissan Maxima. She put up the money and I was on a payment plan.

  The house had been painted a deep, dark purple that bordered on black and camouflaged the property at night, except for the lights on the front porch. Pulling up to the front, I almost wrecked from checking out the gargoyle statues lining both sides of the driveway. Each statue had to be over eight feet tall and chiseled by a master craftsman.

  The valet greeted me and pointed toward the front door. He didn’t give me a ticket as he jumped in the driver’s seat and took off. Rows of columns featuring babery carved in high relief lined both sides of the covered porch leading to the front door. The grotesque art climbed up the columns and out of sight. I also noticed rune symbols and prepared for the worst.

  I walked in the front door to a dimly lit lobby area with a cut out reception counter on the right. I nodded to a pale woman with blond hair, wearing a tight dark dress that I couldn’t decide was black or blue. Depending on the way I tilted my head, the color changed. Not magic, but pretty cool.

  I dipped into my reservoir and let some of my magic come to the surface. I didn’t detect a strong wave of magic. Yet.

  I spoke in my normal tone, “I’m here to see Jonathan.”

  “I know,” she said in a deep voice with an eastern European accent. “He’ll be right out to speak with you.”

  A door popped open and two chuckling men walked out into the hallway. One man turned and went in the opposite direction, and I could only assume that Jonathan Rickleshaw was the one headed toward me.

  The short vampire walked with long, elegant strides. His clothes, forked dark goatee splotched with notes of gray and black hair pulled back in a ponytail gave off a vamp vibe, but the rest did not.

  The vampire’s face looked orange, like he had been fake tanning for an extended time. He flashed a pearly white smile. No fangs. Huh. He wore a white button-down shirt with black pants and a dark gray, dovetailed, long-sleeved jacket. I had one very similar to it.

  “Micheal Merlino, I presume.” He pronounced my name correctly again. Bonus points for the vampire.

  “I can only assume you are Jonathan Rickleshaw.” I’d heard his name many times before, but hadn’t seen a picture. The elder vampires stayed somewhat under the radar.

  He turned around and gestured with his arm for me to follow. I felt much safer walking behind him. He opened a door on the left side of the hallway and invited me in. He flicked on the lights and I almost had a heart attack.

  The small office had some of the most amazing antiques and paintings I had ever seen.

  “That’s not real, is it?”

  He put a firm hand on my back and fired back with a question, “Why would you think I’d put a fake on my wall?”

  I put my hands up. No need to be starting fights with the vampires. Remember the rune symbols on the way in. This place is protected. “I’m not calling it a fake, but the original Guernica is in Queen Sofia’s Museum in Madrid.”

  He smiled, still no fangs. “Not anymore. Anyone or anything can slip into financial trouble it should seem. The museum sold it through an auction at Sotheby’s. I sent a representative. I told her to raise her hand when the bidding started and never let it drop. A few hours later, I was in a back room, signing some papers and taking my painting out of there.”

  Jonathan went and sat behind his rich mahogany desk as I continued staring at the wall. I came out of my trance, thinking about the sheer value of the objects in this room.

  I wasn’t going to ask about the veracity of the Egyptian artifacts on his desk. I sat down in one of the chairs facing him. “So what is it you want from me?”

  “Waste no time. You are young, this is evident, but enjoy yourself. Would you like a drink?”

  Immortals didn’t see life as a race. It was to be savored. I inquired, “I don’t suppose you have any Jameson handy?”

  His eyebrows lowered and his lips pursed together, creating a look of, ‘don’t be stupid.’ “Of course we do. We have anything you could desire.” He picked up the phone and pressed a couple of buttons. He had a corded phone in his office too. Probably the only similarity between our workspaces. He talked into the phone, “Yes, I’ll have a red and my guest would like a rocks glass of Jameson.” He looked to me and held the mouthpiece. “Neat?”

  I nodded, and he removed his hand from the mouthpiece. “Neat it is. Thank you.” He hung up the phone and focused on me. “What do you want out of life, Micheal?”

  “Right now. I just want to know what is going on here. I’m a little tense right now because you invited me over on a business premise and it’s turning into a first date.”

  He laughed. “Don’t flatter yourself, little wizard.” He chose his words wisely and I realized that I might have hurt his feelings.

  The door opened and a dark-skinned beauty with short black hair entered the room. Her hips swung up and down, pulling her short red skirt even higher up her thighs. She walked by me and the aroma of cloves followed. She bent over Jonathan’s desk to hand him his drink.

  She. Wasn’t. Wearing. Underwear.

  Turning away quickly, I tried to un-see that considering I had a girlfriend that could gaze directly into my soul. Hiding things wasn’t an option. I was extremely tempted to peek back until I felt a drop of liquid on my pant leg. Looking up at the serving vixen holding my drink with a shaky hand, I reached out my arm.

  I grabbed the Jameson, and she walked to the door. “Anything else, Mr. Rickleshaw?”

  “That will be all for now, but stay around.”

  “Yes sir.” She curtsied and left the room, slamming the door.

  Jonathan’s face got oranger and he looked like he was cursing under his breath. Mental note: don’t slam the door.

  He focused on me with a forced smirk. “Like what you see there?”

  “I have a girlfriend, sorry.”

  He said, “Young man.”

  “Excuse me?”

  He explained, “You’re a young man. You are going to have twenty more girlfriends before you settle on the right one. You need to experience all life can offer. Taste everything you can.”

  “I’m trying.” I sipped on my Jameson that tasted a bit stronger than normal for some reason. “Can we please get down to why you called me?”

  He stuck his finger in what I hoped was a bloody Mary and mixed up the drink. “I need your help tracking someone down and we are prepared to pay you a great sum to do it.” He licked his finger clean.

  I didn’t want to get dollar signs in my eyes too early. “Before we even talk about money, why don’t you tell me about the someone?”

  He undid his ponytail and shook his wild hair around. I smelled Head and Shoulders. I guess vampires battled dandruff too. “Without going into too much detail, we h
ad someone run away, so to speak, and we need them returned.”

  “Why do you need them returned? Taking someone against their will is kidnapping, you know?”

  He tilted his head and rolled his eyes. “It’s nothing like that. We just have a confused member who can’t be running the streets because of the obvious implications involved. We have a deal with the police that we police our own, so to speak.”

  “Implications. Such as?”

  He ran his long fingers through the tangled mess, trying to comb out the knots. “Again, I’m not at liberty to go into great detail, but if someone from our clan did something foolish and put all vampires under higher scrutiny, the Council would not look kindly on our clan. If the Purples are ousted from the truce, we’ll be hunted and killed like wild dogs by all the other clans. Perhaps now you understand.”

  “I do understand, but I can’t help you out.”

  He rubbed his upper lip with his thumb and forefinger. “Perhaps we should talk about the payment first.”

  Money meant nothing at this point. “I don’t think it matters, Jonathan. I know that if I return a shunned vampire to the clan--let’s just say I know what will happen, and I can’t willingly do that.”

  The elder vamp laughed, and sipped his drink. The thick, crimson liquid made me think it wasn’t a bloody Mary. At least not the version I was thinking of. He said, “You think you know what will happen. Are you a mind reader?”

  “I’m not. But we both know I wouldn’t be sitting here listening to this offer if I didn’t have a slight idea of what’s going on.”

  He leaned back and steepled his fingertips. “I can’t believe you are going to easily turn down fifty thousand dollars, just like that.”

  My eyes widened in excitement and Jonathan noticed. His lips curled up on both sides, but never exposed his teeth. He asked, “Does that change your mind?”

  I knew I had to play this carefully. If I refused him, he had every reason to have me killed. I had to act like I was interested. “That does change a few things. Let’s talk about who I might be looking for.” I flashed a fake smile and hoped he didn’t detect it.

  He peered at me for an uncomfortable amount of time. “She’s young. About your age.” He slid some papers across the desk.