I buzzed the spot marked 1B on the call-box. No voice came through the intercom, but I heard the door buzz, so I twisted the knob and pulled. Entering the building, I found a staircase to my left and a hallway with a brown floor to my right. The apartment was the second on the left.
I went to knock on the door and stopped. I detected magic from outside the apartment. It could be a number of things like another Dybbuk Box. I realized it was suspect to linger outside the door and knocked three times.
The door swung open and a pale man in a three-piece suit and red tie appeared. A wave of funk poured through the opening. A weird odor of old cheese and dead mice wafted into my nostrils and wouldn’t leave. The man had an elongated head like an ancient Egyptian, but his skin was white as a ghost. Long black hair hung over half of his face, covering one of his eyes.
The man invited me into a shabbily furnished shithole. Actually, he needed to clean up a little to make it a shithole. He led me down a hallway. Living room on the left with a torn-up couch and mismatched cushions. Dilapidated hardwood floors covered with cigarette butts. The yellow curtains that were originally white barely covered the windows and made my apartment look classy.
I didn’t detect enough magic to scare me, but his strange look was a bit alarming.
He veered right into a room and I followed. The soles of my shoes stuck to the linoleum floor as he led me into the kitchen and pointed to a folding chair at the table in the middle of the room. Another man was already seated at the table and he looked very similar to his friend.
The host broke the uncomfortable silence. “My name is Victor and this is Ernesto. I’m the one that called you earlier.” The man sat at the oval table next to Ernesto and across from me.
The two men in matching suits looked like the classic descriptions of men in black. Their pale faces, dark eyes and elongated heads were alien in appearance. They did not look like a classic Victor or Ernesto and I dipped further into my magical reservoir and brought more to the surface. They should have gone with Ernie and Vic.
I said, “And you both know I’m Mike Merlino. What did you guys call me for?”
Ernesto’s beady eyes widened and lit up. “We are interested in the same things that you seem to be. We were thinking maybe we could exchange supernatural information and form a new partnership.”
Suddenly everyone wants to be my friend. Too bad you can’t trust anyone in this city. “That’s a nice offer, gentlemen, but I prefer to work alone.”
Victor leaned back in the chair. “We aren’t saying that we work together. Just that we share information that might keep our fair city safe. We know there is something evil sweeping the city of Pittsburgh.”
My mind flashed back to the conversation with the night watchman from the cemetery. He had said that some Men in Black type figures had come to scare him. I heightened my senses and tried to figure out if there were any more people in the house. I didn’t sense anyone and focused on the two bozos at the table.
They were releasing some magic vines, but they were weak. I had a few questions of my own. “Obviously, you know who I am, which puts me at a disadvantage. What form of magic do you practice?”
Ernesto looked down at his shoes. “Same as you do.”
“I have a few styles. Which one specifically?” I only practiced the Druidic Arts, but I wanted to throw them off. I had a feeling these guys were using magic from the Dark Artistry. They were going to tell me some lies so that I would share everything I knew with them. Not happening, fellas. “Either of you can answer.”
Both men just looked at each other with panic on their faces. If they didn’t know any of the pure magic systems, they didn’t really know me. I mentally retraced my steps from the building door to where I was seated. This was getting weird fast and the level of magic in the room began to get stronger.
I stared at the spider web in the corner of the room. I thought about all the spiders in the grungy bars along this road. Then I shifted to internally heating my body. I built up so much fire that my face flushed. I broke the long silence, fanning my hand in front of my face, “Look, gentlemen, I really need to get some air.”
I sprang up from the table and darted out of the kitchen, down the hallway, out the front door of the apartment, and I almost made it to the exit door of the building when Ernesto screamed. “Stop right there.”
An amazing amount of magic was coming from behind me, so I ripped the door open and spilled out onto the sidewalk. The streets were relatively calm compared to earlier. I peeked over my shoulder and noticed my new friends catching up with me.
Chapter 19
I SPUN AROUND AND BOTH men stopped in their tracks. “What do you want?” I asked.
The men looked at each other again in silence. Victor said, “You need to stay with us. We need to exchange ideas. You can’t leave.”
Snowflakes fell to the sidewalk and dissolved into the fabric on the men’s shoulders. I had a feeling these guys weren’t going to leave unless I used more than words. I took the internal heat and sent a rippling wave at the two men. They dove out of the way proving they had a firm understanding of magic.
Game on.
I created four purple orbs of intense heat, and heaved them one by one at the men. Each man deflected two of the orbs down a deserted alley and they clanged off a dumpster. I decided to go in another direction and draw in the chill from the snow. I stared at the two men, who were rapidly approaching me, and internally projected the frost inside both of their bodies.
The freeze slowed them down for a few steps, but they fought it off and closed in on me. As I debated my next move, the men separated, trying to surround me as people gathered across the street to watch the brawl. I projected more ice into their systems to no avail as a firm fist sprang toward me and crunched into my nose.
My eyes watered, and I could barely see. Two more punches connected to my jaw and temple causing me to go down to one knee. I sprang up and buried my fist into Ernesto’s belly, which felt like a rock. I stepped back shaking my hand and tried to develop a plan B.
Ernesto didn’t give me any time as he used a magical force to pick me up and toss me against the side of the brick bar. I rolled around on the ground, trying to regain my wits, breath and balance. Everything looked like a skipping television screen before finally coming into focus.
A horde of patrons from the bar emptied out onto the street, and gathered around to watch me get my ass kicked. More good times.
I barely made it back to my feet when Ernesto blasted me in the mouth with a quick right, dropping me again. Both men kicked me in the sides and head with an onslaught of stomping. Already tasting salty liquid in my mouth, I had a good feeling I’d be pissing blood later tonight. So you want to be a wizard, huh?
If you’ve never been beaten up before, there comes a time in a fight when you realize it’s just not going to work out for you. Actually, you don’t really realize it at the time, normally people tell you about it after the fight. Survival instinct kicked in, and you naturally cover up as much as you can. You just have to take a whooping and wish you wouldn’t die. You hoped that your opponent would take mercy on you.
I heard the sweet sound of police sirens in the distance. Normally, I hated that racket, but this time, the boys and girls in blue (actually, they wore black uniforms in Pittsburgh) just might save my life. One of the members of what now could be described as a crowd must’ve called the authorities. Blood ran out of my mouth and nose, not to mention the internal leaking as the stomping continued.
I tried to think with my scrambled head as I stared at a spider web along the base of the bar. That’s it. I drew on my experience.
I focused on all the spiders in Pittsburgh as the men dragged me toward the street. I shifted to my mind the overwhelming number of spiders in the United States. Then the world. Then all the underworlds. All the nasty, fuzzy, disgusting, creepy, beautifully helpful spiders crawled around my head, spinning a mental web.
The me
n dragged my limp body near the street.
Ernesto screamed, “Bite the curb, dickbag.”
The crowd shrieked, and I waited for someone to jump in and get my back. No takers, eh?
Victor leaned down and grabbed the back of my head, grinding my forehead into the pavement. He used his other hand to get a firm grip on the hair on the left side of my head and move my jaw near the curb. I knew what was about to happen, but I couldn’t prevent it. I exerted all my energy into the spiders.
The sirens got louder along with the screaming of the concerned citizens. I could tell something bad was about to happen but my mangled brain couldn’t fully process it. Victor violently pulled my mouth open and put my teeth on the curb like I was about to bite into an apple.
I forgot what I was going to do to these guys. I waited for Ernesto to perform oral surgery as women in the crowd started to cry and screamed for their husbands or boyfriends to do something. Ernesto’s snakeskin boot raised up above my head when my memory kicked back in.
“Aranea. Aranea.” I gurgled, not really getting out the words and scraping my teeth on the pavement.
Spider webbing shot down from the sky and grabbed Ernesto’s foot right before the curb stomping. The intense cyclone of silky webs circled both men, wrapping them in a cocoon type structure.
I slowly made it back to my feet and the first thing I saw was police lights from down the street. The webs weren’t enough to hold the men forever and they both struggled to bust loose. The squad cars neared, and the loud sirens brought my mind back into reality.
Party people scattered in every direction. I blended into a large group and continued down East Carson Street, away from the scene of the crime. I didn’t peek back, but I had a feeling that the two men would bust out of the webs and get away from the cops.
I veered down a side street and found a Taco Bell. I stealthily ducked into the bathrooms before anyone in the restaurant saw me. Let’s take a look in the mirror. It can’t be that bad.
Holy hell.
The bloody nose, busted lip and tongue, bleeding road rash on my forehead, internal agony on both sides of my midsection, and my distorted vision pretty much explained what had happened.
I used the annoying motion sensor faucet to clean up my haggard appearance. Speaking of vampires, I was going to see Jonathan, who might be wearing a fifty-thousand-dollar suit. I didn’t have enough time to go home and get changed because I had to wait out the cops to get back to my car.
I cleaned myself up as best I could under the circumstances and went out into the restaurant. I stuffed a handful of napkins in my pocket to sop up more blood if necessary. I nodded to the older woman behind the counter who scrunched up her nose and waved at me as I left.
I waited until the police left and jumped in my beat-up ride. I cruised over to the Purple House to meet up with Jonathan. I dropped the car off with the valet and went inside. My favorite receptionist recognized me this time and picked up the corded phone as I approached her.
Chapter 20
“HI, JONATHAN. MR. Merlino is here to see you.” She winked at me.
I peered down the hallway and noticed five sexy female vampire’s flooding out of Jonathan’s office, giggling. Several minutes passed, and Jonathan emerged in another suit with a dovetailed jacket. He was tying a bright ruby tie as he approached me, and one of his eyes was completely bloodshot.
I could smell the sex in the air. A hell of a lot of sex in the air. Jonathan extended his hand. “Micheal Merlino, we meet yet again.”
“Good to see you.” I gave him a quick handshake not to be rude and followed him down the hallway. We entered the office and the incense burning behind his desk didn’t cover up the overwhelming scent of physical love.
Jonathan called in our drink order and we took our usual spots in the office. I chose not to waste any time, but Jonathan spoke before me, “What happened?”
I wondered what he was talking about until I remembered my face. “Just a little street fight down in the South Side. You know how it goes down there?”
He gestured for me to sit down as he walked around his desk. “The meatheads looking for a scrap. I’ve heard some stories.”
The buxom vampire server brought us our drinks. I waited for her to shut the door before I asked, “What happened to your eye?”
“Just a little accident. Had a few of them lately. When you get to be my age, it happens.”
Jonathan didn’t seem like the clumsy type. I immediately thought about the Dybbuk Boxes.
He studied me as I avoided eye contact. “There’s no curse on those boxes. I presume that is what this meeting is about.”
Oh, forgot he can read minds. Sometimes. “Good presumption. Reports are rolling in that Sendal Spirits are trying to take over Pittsburgh. I think some of them started from the spirits in those boxes. Do you know how to do it? How to get the spirits back into the boxes?”
Jonathan sipped his blood (let’s stop kidding ourselves) and nodded slowly. “I know of a few exercises that should result in luring the spirits back into the box.”
“Is there a point where the Sendals get too strong to go back into the box?” I took a sip of the Jameson.
Jonathan unleashed his wild hair. “Not exactly. They do have another avenue of recourse. If they can completely split away from the spirit from the Dybbuk box, they will be free. However, the spirits mesh together so tightly that it is nearly impossible to accomplish that.”
“When would you be able to perform these exercises?”
“Should take me about a full day to gather all the required supplies. I hope you are ready for this. It’s pretty intense.” He kept staring at me, making me uncomfortable.
“I think I can handle it.” I planned to do this with Jonathan and then kill the rest of the remaining spirits.
The vampire stood up from his desk, and announced, “I’ll be right back. I forgot my presence is needed elsewhere for just a few minutes. Please excuse me.”
Jonathan darted out of the room, leaving me alone to check out a forty-one-million-dollar painting. The utter destruction of Guernica, Spain. Most people feared demons and monsters, and rightly so, but this painting gave me a harsh reminder that humans can be the worst.
The door popped open and I turned over my right shoulder to greet Jonathan again, but three vampires rushed through the door and surrounded my chair.
The vampire standing in front of me said, “I’m Edgar, and this is Timson and Roydell.”
I couldn’t vouch for Timson or Roydell because they were behind me, but Edgar appeared much older than Jonathan, gray, balding hair and a wrinkled forehead. His hair hung to his long, skinny neck and the vampire wore an expensive white suit. I said, “Strange greeting. Perhaps we could all face each other.”
Edgar barked, “We know that you know where Carolyn is. Don’t play us for fools.”
Believe the lie. Believe the lie. “I don’t know what you gentlemen are talking about, but I suggest you back away before someone gets hurt.”
The men laughed, and Roydell (I’m guessing Roydell) spoke from behind me, “The only person that will get hurt is you, little boy.”
Fewer words get me more fired up than being called boy. I set my drink underneath my chair. “Doubt it.” I pulled my magic to the surface and readied for battle.
He leaned in closer, pale-faced and dull pink lips flapping. “You’re young so you might not know. Necromancy isn’t just raising bodies from the dead. We can talk to vampires who’ve died, you know. We’ve been hearing some juicy whispers from the spirits. And what do you know, your name keeps coming up.”
These boys were about to get burned if they didn’t back the fuck up. “I suggest you get some better sources and might I recommend a stronger toothpaste. Much better than your current brand of dogshit flavored.”
His lips pursed, wrinkling his cheeks and nose. “They’ve never lied to us before. You seem rather nervous.”
It’s about to go down, Jonath
an, you better get your ass back here. “You would be too if three dipshits were surrounding you.”
Edgar took a step back and gave me a silent clap. “Hardy har. Lowbrow comedy at its finest. How would you like to die?”
“Hmm, let me count the ways.” I started forming a vaporous pocket of fire in front of my chest. Time to feel the burn, bitches. I wondered where Jonathan was and got the suspicion that he might be setting me up. This all seemed way too convenient.
“Put your magic away or we will kill you on the spot. Just tell us where she is, and you will walk out of here on two perfectly operable legs.” Edgar put his hands on the arms of my chair, his white hair almost touching me, trying to intimidate me.
You got the wrong guy, Eddie Munster. Vampires were probably the quickest creatures that I’ve come in contact with. It was essential to take them by surprise.
Coughing to make him lower his guard and back away, I kicked him in the balls and his hands reached for his crotch. With his defense down and ugly face leaning forward, I swung my forearm across his jaw and heard a crunching sound as he crashed into Jonathan’s desk and fell to the expensive Afghan rug.
My momentum carried me out of the seat and I spun around carefully avoiding my vaporous fireball. I snatched it in my right hand, forming it into a more concentrated force, ready to hurl it at Roydell or Timson or whoever the fuck wanted to get in my way right now.
I wound up as the door flew open and Jonathan raced in, arms in the air. “What is going on in here? All of you, get out of here.”
My chest heaved in and out, full of anger, clouding my judgment. As the three vampires were leaving, I screamed at the elder vamp, rambling, “What the fuck was that Jonathan? You think I’m stupid? You think I’m fucking stupid? No one would just come into your office without knocking. They are too scared of you. You’re lucky you returned when you did, and I didn’t go ape shit on your goons or there’d be vampire guts and lips and asses all over your precious Guernica. We’d be making vampire hot dogs up in here right about now.”
Bloodline Awakened Supernatural Thriller Series: Books 1-3 Page 34
