Bloodline Awakened Supernatural Thriller Series: Books 1-3

by Jason Paul Rice

  An officer kneeled next to me. “What the hell happened here, sir?”

  “Just a little fight. A friend and I got a little drunk.”

  He looked around the room at the utter destruction. “What about the roof? Someone said they saw something fly through your roof.”

  “Must have just been a big bird. I’ll clean it up officer.” I was delirious and hoped my spoken words were matching up with the ones my head had intended.

  The officer narrowed his eyes and lowered his voice. “Look buddy. Domestic abuse can go both ways, okay? You just give us her name and we’ll make it stop. You don’t need to protect her.”

  Did he really want to hear the truth? I didn’t think this town was quite ready for that. I smiled through the pain with the Empusa’s blood splattered all over my face. “Really officer. It’s nothing like that. I apologize for the disturbance and promise it won’t happen again.”

  I assumed the police had scared away the Empusa just in the nick of time. Oh no, the box. The police took some notes and asked me a few more questions, but I could only think about one thing. As soon as they’d left, I reset the door so that it was as close to fully shut as possible.

  I raced up the stairs and into the attic. I couldn’t believe the cops hadn’t inspected the attic. I ran over to the corner and dropped to my knees. I pried the floorboards up and felt a cascade of dark magic. I pushed the old blanket to the side and the box was still there.

  I really needed Alayna to open this thing with me. I feared its power. This was a good news, bad news scenario. I’d saved the box, but the demons knew where to find me and that I was in possession of the box. Not good.

  I covered it with the blanket, reset the floorboards and headed downstairs. I pounded on the wall. “Reg. You wanna come over for a few beverages?”

  “Sure thing, young blood. I’ll meet you out on the front porch.”

  I helped Reginald get his chair onto my side of the porch and we went inside. I poured two glasses of Jameson, handed one to Reginald, and sat down on my loveseat. Reginald’s eyes were about to pop out of their sockets as he assessed the damage. “Young blood, you got blood all over your face and, what is that? Is that a hoofprint on your forehead? You better be careful, you only get one dome now.”

  “Oh shit. She spat blood in my face. Help me collect a sample.”

  Reginald held the plastic ramekin as I flaked some of the dried blood off my face. I marked it and put it with my samples.

  I explained, “Too bad I can’t really test them without Alayna. Considering she is going to be super mad when she sees this house, it’s going to be hard to ask her for help. I know this is big though, and I know there is something in that box. They wouldn’t send a Manticore and Empusa to destroy that box if it weren’t a big deal.”

  “So what’chu know so far?”

  “Just off the top of my head, I think the Jersey Devil is working with some humans to recruit these shifters. It’s a big plot if they are sending high-level demons to destroy that box. Oh wait, that’s it.”

  “That’s what now?”

  I said, “The Empusa destroyed a music box in my attic. She probably thought she was destroying the magic box. Back to the overall plot. Apparently, they are going to use the shifters to kill a bunch of world leaders even though I’m not sure how all this fits into the G20 threat. And my head is scrambled on top of it all.”

  He laughed. “I can imagine. That hoofprint don’t look like she’s gonna go away any time soon. That son of a gun is deep, young blood. I’m surprised that didn’t crack your skull.”

  “I do have a new clue too.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I found out that a lot of the shifters used the same barber downtown. I’m going to have to check it out. Could be nothing, but it seems too suspicious for that.”

  “Be careful now.”

  “I will. My emotions are all over the place right now. I met a girl, Reg. She’s awesome, I tell ya. I’m sad about all the murders occurring under my watch, but when I see her, all I can do is smile.”

  Reg tilted his head. “Maybe it did crack your skull. Yeah, man, I was here when you set up the date. Sounds like you changed your mind pretty quick on her. Guess head injuries can do that. Ha ha.”

  I shook my head. “Not her. This is a different girl. Only, there’s one problem.”

  “Man, there’s always a problem, ha ha.”

  “This is a big problem. She’s Gretchen’s daughter.”

  He pushed his lips out. “Ain’t that about a bitch. It’s always something, huh?”

  “I don’t know what to do.”

  He took a drink and shrugged his shoulders. “Ain’t nothing to do. You can’t force stuff like that. Just let things happen.”

  “I’m actually trying the opposite. I give Gretchen a hard time, but this is her daughter.”

  “And she gave you her number, right in front of her mom?”

  “No, that’s just it. She’s a survivor. I met her at a meeting. I sort of met her when she was meeting Gretchen a few days ago. It’s like a beautiful piece of fruit dangling in front of me.”

  “The good ole forbidden fruit. Always tastes the sweetest, ha ha. Just got to be careful cuz they’re poisoned sometimes. Say, Mike, I been meaning to ask you something. And feel free to say no.” Reg lowered his head.

  “What’s up, man?”

  “I was just wondering if you might be able to do me a solid and take me down to see the eclipse down the city. I was thinking maybe we could go to the Party at the Point. I understand you got your stuff going on and I don’t expect you to do it. I was just thinking if you weren’t doing nothing.”

  “Reg. I’d love to take you down to check out the eclipse.”

  “That means a lot, Mike. I know you gotta borrow a car and haul my ass around, so it ain’t going to be no picnic for you.”

  I hadn’t thought about that part. “Reg. You’re my best friend, man. I’d party with you anytime. Who cares if we have to jump though a few hoops to make it happen.”

  “That’s my young blood brother, right there. Ha ha.” He held out his drink and we clanged our glasses together.

  We had a few glasses of Jameson and then we had a few too many. My head was spinning and I felt sick. I leaned back on my loveseat and closed my eyes. The light faded. Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.

  FOUR TINY FINGERS AND a thumb slapped me across the face, causing me to break out of my slumber.

  Chapter 22

  “OWWWW.” I JUMPED UP from the loveseat. Not the soothing wake-up call I was hoping for.

  “I should have hit you harder. What the hell happened here?” Alayna pointed around at the utter destruction. I had meant to clean it up last night but I had fallen asleep.

  I got defensive. “An Empusa crashed through the ceiling. She trashed the place. I just tried to get her out of here. It wasn’t my fault.”

  “No. Nothing is ever your fault. Never. I can smell the booze. You passed out drunk.” She focused on the floor. “My books, look at my books I lent you. Those are worth more than their weight in gold and you’ve destroyed them.”

  “I didn’t mean to. They aren’t destroyed, messed up a little. I have some samples from the Empusa and werelion if you want to help me figure out this mystery.”

  She yelled, “Enough.” It was the first time my mentor had ever yelled at me. “It’s time you help yourself. Not only have you put my life in danger, but you’ve destroyed the house I let you live in.”

  “I promise I will pay to fix everything. It just might...”

  “Enough,” the faerie screamed. She took a few deep breaths and spoke calmly, “You only worry about yourself and that needs to stop now. I’ve been assisting you every step along the way and that ends now. I’m going to the Deep Burrow for a fortnight so I can enjoy Samhain. When I return, this house better be shipshape or you better have the duckets to fix everything. And I mean everything.”

  Alayna grabbed
a book, clutched it under her arm, shoved the mangled door to the side, kicked the screen door open and walked down the steps of my porch. Her words hurt because everything I had been doing was to protect the entire city and possibly the world. I hadn’t bought anything for myself other than magic supplies and Jameson. I actually thought I was a good person.

  Colossus came out of the open closet. He must have run in there when Alayna had busted in. Losing my connection to the magic world wasn’t good. I didn’t have the guts to open that box without my mentor.

  Now another problem piled on top of everything else. I had two weeks to get my apartment fixed or I would have Alayna to deal with. My magic days appeared to be headed for a tragic, premature ending.

  I tried to shake away the hangover and thumping pain that might have been a concussion. The shower hadn’t worked to clear my head. I got Colossus some fresh water and cooked up some bacon and eggs. I chopped up some of the meal and put it into a bowl for my dog.

  Colossus chomped away at his breakfast as I forked some scrambled eggs into my mouth. “Do you hate me too, buddy?” I mumbled with eggs spilling out the side of my mouth.

  The dog stopped eating and looked up at me. He sauntered over to me and mashed his head into my shin. His wet nose made me smile and I scooped him up. I hugged my new friend and he licked my cheek a few times.

  It tickled and felt nice that someone cared about me. I gave Colossus a kiss on the forehead and set him back down. He raced back to his bowl of food and dug in again. We finished our breakfast and I let Colossus out into the backyard.

  Thinking about the case, I needed to investigate two things. The barber whom all the shifters used and the McNights.

  I knew hair could be used to manipulate a person’s soul, to force them to do things it otherwise wouldn’t consider. You could even make a voodoo-type doll using the hair as enchantment to create a spiritual connection. I planned to pop in to Glenn’s barbershop later today.

  The other lead wouldn’t be so easy.

  Harold and Raquel McNight were powerful and connected. I couldn’t just walk up to the front door and start demanding answers. I had to be smooth on this one, much smoother than before. I was convinced they were directly connected based off what Ruth and demon shifter Darren had said. Reginald would be the person to ask about the McNights.

  I cleaned up the house as best I could, starting with getting my bookshelves upright. I tended to the books first and hated that the fight had caused me to disrespect this important literature. I loved books, and gently scooped them up, smoothed out any wrinkled pages, and put them back in their places on my shelves.

  I did a sloppy job patching up the attic, but the roof was almost fully covered and good enough for now. I pushed all the broken pieces of roof, floor and my storage items into the corner of the attic. Thank you very much, Empusa.

  I reflected on the fact that I had dueled with the demon world and scored a draw every time (not counting killing the skipjos). I hadn’t used magic the exact way I’d expected in a supernatural fight. Due to the cramped quarters, potential danger and magnitude of the situations, I’d hardly used any magic with the Empusa and werelion.

  I hung out with Colossus and Reginald for a little while. We walked down to the pharmacy so I could get some dog food and supplies to treat my little buddy’s cigar burns. I still couldn’t believe someone would do that to this precious dog. We went back home, and I dabbed some of the gel on the burn spots.

  I got ready for my upcoming date. I had switched the restaurant with Suzette so that I could stop by the barber shop first and ask a few questions. I had made it so they were right down the street from each other in the Cultural District.

  I took a long shower, shaved, and put on my freshest scent.

  I’d hardly ever worn nice clothes, but I did own a few decent outfits. I put on my black dress pants, long-sleeved gray button down, leather belt with a silver dragon face buckle, dark dress socks and shiny black dress shoes.

  Despite the brisk October night, I eschewed the services of a jacket and jumped into the backseat of the Uber car. She dropped me off downtown at the barbershop.

  I read the writing on the awning—Glenn’s Stylistic Cuttery and Barbershop

  All right, Glenn, let’s get this over with. Just give me some straight answers about the shifters and nobody will get hurt. I assumed Glenn was an ornery old barber who wouldn’t want to talk to some young kid, but I had to take a swing.

  The place in no way resembled a barbershop. I walked past a few times on the opposite side of the street.

  It appeared to be a high-class joint. A red awning with of the shop’s name in gold lettering welcomed customers and led them right up to the glass front door. I saw more women than men inside the building. Odd barbershop.

  I crossed the street, entered through the glass door, and checked the place out. A counter with a cash register to my immediate right. Purple chairs for cutting lined up behind the register on the right. Five spots on the left for getting perms and a few sinks behind them for washing hair. Barbershop?

  The bubbly woman behind the counter wore a gold name tag marked Tara, and asked, “Are you here for a cut? Have you been here before?” She grabbed her drink from the desk.

  “No, I haven’t. I’m actually looking to talk to Glenn if he’s around.”

  She laughed and almost spit out her Diet Coke. “I was going to ask if you had an appointment, but I don’t think you do.”

  I got nervous and tilted my head to the side. “What makes you say that?”

  “Because Glenn is a her.”

  Based off the burning under my skin, I assumed my face had turned a shade of red that bordered on purple. Research was important, and in my haste, I had forgotten to even find simple background information on Glenn. “Sorry about that, but there are some serious questions I need to discuss with her on behalf of the Pittsburgh Police. Nothing out of the ordinary and she’s not in any trouble.”

  “What is your name, sir?”

  I wished I had a badge. “Uh, Merlino. Detective Mike Merlino.”

  “Okay detective, let me check with her. I’ll be right back.”

  The full-figured woman disappeared into the curtains in the back and I leaned against the counter. All the employees were females. All buxom, exotic, beautiful women. Huh.

  I tried to look away, but I couldn’t. The women were mesmerizing, stealing my eyes and threatening never to return them. I could have sworn they were whispering my name, begging me to come closer. Sirens. Sweet sounding sirens were calling me.

  “Detective Merlino,” Tara said, and broke my trance-like perverted stare.

  She was waving me toward the back as she stood in between the black curtains, almost wearing them as a dress. I quickly moved past the workers, trying to avoid eye contact. Despite Tara helping me, I struggled to get through the curtains and had to spin around to finally break free.

  There stood Glenn. Not at all the grisly, old, foul-mouthed barber Glenn I had pictured in my head.

  Long, luscious black curls cascaded down her back and stopped just above the fashionable obsidian belt with a golden buckle. She had bronze skin and wore an excessive amount of midnight blue eye makeup that trailed almost to her ears, but it worked on her, creating a dark, mysterious look. Her black lipstick shimmered as she smiled at me.

  She invited me into her small but elegant and organized office. She sat behind her pine desk and gestured to me to take one of the two leather chairs. She put her feet up on the desk and her sequin emerald dress that matched her eyes crept naughtily up her thigh. She wasn’t going to play fair.

  Chapter 23

  A SHELF BEHIND HER housed a glass case with what appeared to be two Faberge Eggs inside. Even if this woman ran a very successful operation, one real egg would be out of her price range. I started with the obvious, “Are you married?” What? That wasn’t the question I had planned to ask and I started to sweat.

  She licked her lips and I f
ound myself wondering if they tasted like black licorice. She said, “Never have, never will. I appreciate the offer though. Tara told me you have some questions, police questions.” She sounded like she was asking a question.

  “Yes.” A buzz circulated through my head that I hadn’t felt before, a dizzying, pleasurable tingle bounced around my dome, and something was happening in my pants. “There have been a few murders lately.”

  “Murders, oh my.” She sounded like she had rehearsed that phrase in front of a mirror even down to putting her hand over her mouth.

  “Yes, and a lot of the murderers had something in common.”

  She used her long purple fingernails to scratch her thigh. “They were crazy, it sounds like.”

  “That very well could be the case, but that’s not what I am here for.” I still felt woozy, but in a wonderful way. “A lot of the alleged murderers were customers here and I just wanted to know if you had ever noticed any strange behavior from any patrons.”

  She stuck a finger in her mouth and sucked on it for several teasing seconds before slowly removing it and kissing the tip of her finger. “Well, let me ask you a question. Have you ever had a cougar rock your world sexually?”

  This interview had turned on a dime. I started to overheat and unfastened the top two buttons on my shirt. “I can’t say that I have.” I answered truthfully. I had never considered Emily to be old enough for cougar status. I still miss her.

  She got up and sashayed around the desk, my eyes never leaving her ravishing hips as they bounced seductively up and down. She stroked the side of my freshly shaved face with the back of her fingers.

  I said, “If we could just stick to the original question, I think that would be best.”

  “Really. Because it doesn’t look like that’s what you want.” She motioned with her head toward the bulge in my crotch.