Bloodline Awakened Supernatural Thriller Series: Books 1-3

by Jason Paul Rice

  Avoiding the stone men and men in black, I ran toward the U.S. Steel Tower, barely noticing that Felix was right on my heels. I wasn’t even sure that the rumor that the Sendals were in the tower was true. We walked up to a façade of glass windows at street level, and we stopped for a moment. I noticed a green and red fog streaking by inside the building.

  Let’s go.

  Chapter 27

  THERE DIDN’T APPEAR to be an open door or a red carpet rolled out. What the hell?

  Felix said, “I think we might have to break a window.”

  “Might as well. The cops are already on the way for the street brawl.”

  Felix formed a quick pocket of condensed air and smashed through one of the big windows, leaving hanging pieces of shattered glass from the top of the pane. I squeezed against the side as I entered and felt like I had lost my sword. A quick check revealed it was still there as both feet hit the inside of the tower.

  A dark, open area stood in front of us. I noticed a piano, a twisting stairway, an empty front desk and elevators down a hallway in the distance.

  I didn’t see any of the spirits, but I could feel the immense amount of magic in the air. We both unleashed our weapons, and uh, his was smaller than mine.

  I’m no expert, but it appeared he had a wakizashi with a jade kashira, tsuba with golden inlay of rune symbols and diamond-shaped menuki ornaments worked into the braided silk tsuka. Both our blades glowed in fluorescent orange with golden rune symbols as I checked for the spirits.

  We moved in further, around a flight of stairs, and there they were. I froze. It wouldn’t be wise to rush them even with the sword. Magic didn’t work against them either. About twenty spirits with different colors floated in the middle of the lobby.

  Two security guards came around the corner. One of the men spotted the spirits, and said, “Hell no. Ray, I ain’t fucking wit this bullshit for the money we make.”

  “Aw, me too. Ain’t worth no Ghostbusters shit,” the other man added.

  Both men turned and ran. Can’t say as I blame them.

  The Sendal Spirits spotted us and I felt a heavy force crush my chest and launch me backwards. I rolled over and noticed that Felix had been hit too. We both sprang up and recovered our swords. A green spirit charged toward us, expanding in shape and size. Wings formed, along with two reptilian feet with long claws. A dragon’s head took shape, and I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  The dragon widened its mouth and a blast of fire shot from the opening, tracing toward us. Felix and I hit the deck. We narrowly avoided the flames but still got scorched from the heat. My suit protected all of me, except for my exposed face that felt raw to the touch.

  I jumped up like a crazy medieval knight, sword in hand, and rushed the beast before it could generate another face full of fire. Screaming wildly with utter nonsense spilling from my lips, I saw the orange glow start to move up its throat.

  I side stroked, and the blade went right through the supernatural dragon, but didn’t appear to affect it in the least, until the horrible scream of a thousand dying men was released. My ears begged me to make it stop, and I really wished that I could. It sounded even worse than Cerridwen’s cauldron of death, something I didn’t think possible.

  The other spirits hissed and spread out, surrounding Felix and me. We went back to back and our bodies froze like they were glued together. Neither of us could move. Devilish laughter erupted as a few of the spirits turned into opaque longswords.

  A sapphire blue weapon hummed through the air, scraping across the spot in between my stomach and chest, tearing through my suit.

  Whoa, that meant the sword was stronger than my suit. Not good.

  The sword wound up again and came swinging for my neck. Just before contact, the opaque weapon stopped and released a desperate howl. The shape dissipated into a stringy cloud as the spirit rushed toward the broken window.

  Jonathan must be in full gear at the seance. Just in the nick of time too. The Sendals appeared shaken from the event and lost their mental grip over us, scared they would be the next one sucked out of the building, I seized the chance.

  I lunged toward four Sendals, (red, green, blue and silver) right in front of me as I took a diagonal stroke, ripping through all four of the spirits, smearing their colors like an abstract painting. The hideous crying and begging for mercy lasted about ten seconds until they completely disappeared.

  Felix took a long side stroke, ending the run of four more spirits. The colors ran together and then exploded. We both thrashed around, stroking our swords wildly. At the end of the mayhem, only three spirits floated around the lobby. A gold spirit ran for the window, and I assumed Jonathan was filling another box.

  That left a silver and red fog to deal with. A voice sounded from behind me, “I’m still gonna kill you, you know.”

  I turned and looked up to the top of the steps. My father. I want to go kill him more than anything right now, but I don’t want to leave Felix with these powerful spirits. I moved toward the spirits, and Felix said, “Go fight him. Kill him. He’s too dangerous to leave alive in this city.”

  I silently agreed and took off for the steps. My dad kept going up more flights of stairs until I quickly reached the tenth floor. The old man was spilling magic vines everywhere so tracking him wasn’t too difficult.

  It was a strange form of magic. Epically powerful, but unrefined. The most dangerous form of magic coupled with my father’s murderous attitude, made for a catastrophic combination.

  He kept climbing and climbing, and I wondered what he was trying to do. I kept wary of wards and defense spells as I chased after my father, but none ever appeared. At first, I thought he was luring me into a room that he had filled with Sendal enchantment, but we just kept climbing.

  I started to sweat as we neared the top of the building. He wasn’t going for the roof, was he? We hit the 64th floor, the top floor in the tower, and an alarm with flashing lights and sirens went off. My father had opened the emergency door to get to the roof and I rushed through the entrance.

  I went through the last door and came out on the roof of the triangular shaped building. The snow continued to fall but didn’t accumulate on the ground. My father stood about ten feet away, laughing.

  Chapter 28

  “LITTLE MIKEY CAME TO get killed, huh. You know you don’t have the power to be messing with me.”

  I paced toward him. “I’m not here to talk, old man.”

  “Tell you what. I’ll let you get the first shot in.” He put his arms behind his back.

  He thought I was stupid. I could see the defense wall around him. It was another grid of bright lines, tightly bound. I was patient and searched for the opening. Most people wouldn’t even be able to see his shield, but it was like a swirling tapestry of colors and I needed to find the compromised area.

  You had to keep feeding magic into the shield, and I knew my father would trip up at some point. The waves of colors kept streaking around until I found a tiny opening. I jammed my left index finger into the hole and yanked, breaking up the defense.

  I cocked back a clenched right fist and unleashed a haymaker that landed on his front teeth and chin with a thud. He stepped back, dazed and confused. He wiped his face and looked at the blood in his hand, stunned. I smirked, preparing a funny quip like ‘Sorry to rune your plan, old man.’

  My father put his hands behind his back again, and I assumed he was going to spot me another punch. He produced a blurry object in his right hand, and I took two steps back, trying to figure out what it was. He held the L shaped object about chest level and it spat a silver spark followed by a flash of fire.

  The bullet hit my chest with the impact of a runaway train and I stumbled backward. The suit distributed the pain, but I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not right now.

  My father fired three more shots in rapid succession, hitting my chest and torso. Concern instantly attacked my heart as I worried that one of the bullets
had hit the open area in the suit. I kept moving backward and noticed two more little sparks just before the bullets hit me in the shoulder.

  I fell back, hitting my head on the ground, my arms flying behind me, hands dangling off the edge of the building. I wasn’t dead. I just wished I were dead. The pain was indescribable. Everything in my entire body hurt with the slightest breath. I wanted to check for blood, but decided to play possum.

  I heard the rotors of a helicopter and saw a spotlight shining down on the roof. The light zeroed in on my father, and gunshots erupted in the cold winter night. The bullets sprayed my father, and bounced off him, sounding like they were hitting a bronze statue. He laughed and looked up to the helicopter, arms out at his sides.

  “Go ahead. Take a few more shots. Ain’t gonna do you no good.” My father closed his eyes and pointed up to the sky. A stream of red fire shot from his finger and traced through the sky, screaming toward the helicopter.

  The flames quickly engulfed the chopper and it started to go down. Fluttering in the air, two burnt passengers dove out, arms flailing before they crashed into the ground. The flaming helicopter spun out of control before exploding upon contact with a parked car.

  I could barely breathe as I heard the sweeping steps of my father getting closer. I tried to play dead as he stood over me. “Told you I’d kill your ass. And I wanted to torture you. Too bad. Time to fly, Mikey.”

  He leaned down to grab my legs and I seized the chance. I reached up, clutched my father’s collar, held on for dear life, and swung my arm over my head. My father toppled over, flew over the edge, but grabbed hold of me at the last second.

  His grip on my forearm made me slide a little bit further toward the edge and my heart fell into my foot. I rolled over, head over the edge, and looked my father in the eyes.

  He said, “Looks like we’re both going to die.” The old man yanked down on my arm, and I dug my toes into the loose gravel on the roof as I slid further over the edge.

  “Not tonight.” I kissed my rune tattoo, leaned down, and chomped on his fingers. He still clamped onto my forearm, long fingernails digging into my skin, so I bit harder, drawing blood. Finger by finger, my father finally relented. He waved his arms and legs wildly, trying to fly.

  I pulled my head back from the edge before he hit the ground and didn’t even hear the impact because of the police sirens screaming through the city. I was still in pain from the gunshots, but my body felt hollow. I thought killing my dad would make me feel so proud that I would run to my mother, bragging about it.

  I mean, he was my father, there is something to be said for that, but he was the worst human being I’ve ever known. I mean, he had just shot me several times. The snowflakes felt good on my burnt face as I sat up. Ding dong, the witch is dead wasn’t sounding so sweet in my head. It really should’ve though.

  I heard painful grunting and a person came up over the edge of the 64-story building. My father, riding a golden spirit in the shape of a Pegasus. They came back up onto the roof toward me.

  You’ve got to be kidding me. The Sendal Spirit set him back down gently and hissed at me, shifting into the form of a cloaked man with a wand. Great, now it’s two against one. Where’s Felix?

  I backpedaled toward the center of the roof. An opalescent golden streak of electricity traveled from the fingers of the spirit into my father, who glowed in the snowy night. He extended his hands toward me. A blast of fiery gold hit me in the chest, knocking me back several feet and onto my ass.

  Coupled with the gunshots, I didn’t think I would be able to get back up. The suit had absorbed some of the impact, but not nearly as much as I would have liked.

  I could hear the soles of my father’s shoes sweeping through the snow on the roof, stalking me. Peeking at him, I saw that he was using more caution than the first time he had approached me. It bought me a few seconds so I could regather my fried head.

  I put my hand on the grip of the sword as the Sendal Spirit floated next to my dad. My father stepped on my hand. “Don’t even try it. Now I just have to figure out how to kill you. I don’t want to kill you tonight, so I can torture you for a little while. You deserve at least that.” He laughed and howled at the moon.

  “Why are you doing this?

  He laughed. “You know why. Same reason I abandoned you as a son. You’re a sissy boy. A man wants nothing more than to have a son. Imagine my anger when I finally get a son and all he does is cry and whine for his momma.”

  “That’s what babies do, by the way.” I used some of my force to hit my father but his power was extraordinary.

  He ground my hand into the gravel surface like he was stamping out a cigarette butt. The coarse pebbles poked into my palm, breaking several layers of skin. The spirit kept feeding magic into my father in the form of a green fog that floated in the night sky before disappearing into my dad’s ears.

  He reached down and grabbed my shirt around my chest and lifted me up like I was a ragdoll. By the time I was upright, a straight right fist was headed toward my face. My nose popped and blood shot from my nostrils, prompting my father to laugh again.

  My brain was scrambled from the hardest punch I’ve ever received. He was holding me up as I was basically out on my feet.

  The Spirit fed more magic into my father, this time through his eyes. I didn’t see it, but I felt something tightening around my wrists and ankles. My father poked me in the chest, and I fell over. I tried to wiggle my arms and legs to get out of the bonds, but they just kept tightening.

  “Yep, Mikey, time to have some fun with you.” He booted me in the side with the impact of an anvil, the air rushing out of my lungs. My father leaned down and hit me with another crushing punch to the right cheek. The impact drove my head into the rocks and everything went black.

  My eyes flickered open. I had no idea how long I was out for as there was a woozy feeling in my head. The invisible ties still secured my wrists and ankles, immobilizing me. My father sat next to me sharpening a knife on a rectangular stone. The spirit was feeding magic into my father through his chest. That didn’t seem good.

  Suddenly, the golden spirit shaped like a cloaked man became very tall and skinny until finally the Sendal streaked off into the Pittsburgh night. Hells yeah, Jonathan. Now if I could just get these ties off. A confused look came over my father’s face as he tried to understand what had just happened.

  Seemingly undeterred, my father threw the sharpening stone over the edge. I could still hear fighting on the street below and worried about Satoku. Then I thought about Felix and hoped he was alright dealing with the Sendals downstairs. For some reason, I didn’t think about the danger I was in as my father approached me with a sharp knife and a sick smile.

  He leaned down, lunged forward and stabbed me in the side. The knife bounced off my suit, further confusing my dad. It caused a great deal of pain as I rolled around on the ground. Stunned, he poked me two more times in the belly with the same reaction.

  In agony, I tried to think of a way to defeat my father. I realized that trying to outpower him with external magic wasn’t going to work. I went to internal magic and tried to pull in the chill but my battered body seemed to be failing. I took in as much of the frost as I could and projected it into my father.

  He stood still as a statue, but before the smile could form on my face, a red glow outlined his body and melted my internal freeze. He had more magical skills than I had previously imagined, which was scary. My father kicked me in frustration. The suit spread the pain out, which felt like someone was pricking me with a pin all over my body.

  The bonds hadn’t loosened as I had hoped when the last Sendal Spirit vanished. If Felix could just defeat the spirits downstairs, my father would lose his power. I couldn’t count on that as I formulated plan C. I thought about my father’s weaknesses and strengths.

  He was already one of the most powerful warlocks in the world. I couldn’t straight up out-magic him. Internal magic wasn’t working so I shifted t
oward mental magic. My father’s brief training shouldn’t have extended to this form of magic.

  He kicked me a few more times as I sent my mind waves at his skull. They seeped into his head and burrowed into his brain. I could hear his thoughts. He was worried that the Sendals had abandoned him. He wanted to kill me, but he didn’t know if he had permission.

  Confusion dominated his thoughts, not to my surprise. I’d never done this before, but I tried to implant some messages. I mentally whispered into my father’s head, “Don’t kill him yet. Release the bonds.”

  I wasn’t sure if it was working until my father screamed, “Why?” He looked up at the sky in confusion.

  I kept feeding him information, “You will get a chance to kill him later.”

  “But I want to torture him now and kill him later,” he yelled, spinning in circles.

  “Who is your master?” I projected into his head.

  My father lowered his head in shame and the wraps around my arms and legs went away. I flexed my hands around trying to increase circulation. I formed three orbs of radioactive heat and fired them at my dad. The first two bounced off him, skipping off the roof and falling to the streets. The third connected to his right shoulder, completely tearing it apart.

  Blood burst from the wound, staining the light layer of snow below. His arm hung lifelessly at his side. My father’s expression revealed that he couldn’t believe he could be hurt. I got him to lower his guard just enough to take away the stone shell around his body that had been keeping him safe.

  He pointed his finger at me and a ray of red light shot toward me, stopping in front of me, then surrounding me like a dense fog. I inhaled and it felt like I was swallowing razor blades. I spat a wad of red liquid out and gagged for air.

  I went back inside my father’s head, “Don’t kill him if you want to torture him.”