Flesh and Blood_An Urban Fantasy Novel Read online

  Flesh and Blood

  The Half-Demon Warlock Book #2

  J. A. Cipriano

  Conner Kressley

  Contents

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  Also by J. A. Cipriano

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

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  Cursed

  Copyright © 2016 by J. A. Cipriano & Conner Kressley

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  Also by J. A. Cipriano

  The Thrice Cursed Mage

  Cursed

  Marked

  Burned

  Seized

  Claimed

  Hellbound

  The Lillim Callina Chronicles

  Wardbreaker

  Kill it with Magic

  The Hatter is Mad

  Fairy Tale

  Pursuit

  Hardboiled

  Mind Games

  Fatal Ties

  Clans of Shadow

  Heart of Gold

  Feet of Clay

  Fists of Iron

  The Spellslinger Chronicles

  Throne to the Wolves

  Prince of Blood and Thunder

  1

  Renee stared up at me, her eyes as sharp as daggers, as she breathed evenly into the bag. She hadn't wanted to do it, but I got the feeling she was going to hyperventilate. If there was one thing I absolutely didn't need tonight, it was the unconscious body of Atlanta’s Assistant District Attorney sprawled across my floor.

  It had taken all I could do to get her to come inside. The world had come crashing down on us in the form of the dead body of her little brother came crashing down as I was going seventy-five on I-20, the world started to fall apart.

  “I need you to try to calm down,” I said in a voice that was both carefully sympathetic and as stern as I dared.

  I'd fought so hard to keep Renee safe. I'd killed Isa (who was terrorizing the city in the form of a demented split personality named Fulton), and I'd watched as one of the biggest skyscrapers in all of Atlanta got sucked up into Hell while no one was the wiser.

  In the end, none of that seemed to matter though. Just when we thought it was over, a Greek boy's corpse splattered across the interstate let us know we were dead fucking wrong.

  “You're not serious,” she answered, her tone more of a hiss than a string of words. “My brother is dead, Roy. My baby brother was just murdered, and you want me to calm down? Are you out of your goddamned mind?”

  “Look, I understand you're going through a lot right now, and I really want to be there for you. I swear I do, but there's something after you, Renee. I thought we'd beat it back, at least for now, but we haven't. And that means we can't afford to fall apart right now. Not if we want to survive.”

  Even before her eyes narrowed, I knew I’d said the wrong thing. It was in the way her muscles tensed up, in the way her face grew even paler, in the way streams of moisture started welling anew under her eyes.

  “That's not what I meant,” I said, even thought it sort of was what I meant, and I wasn't even sure why what I said was wrong. Still, she was the one going through the tragedy. If saying I was an elephant with an eating disorder made her feel better, I would. You know, as long as being an elephant with an eating disorder would keep her safe.

  “It wasn't supposed to be like this,” she said, shaking her head and lowering her voice to a near whisper. “We beat her, Roy. We beat that bitch. Nate got away. That was the entire point. That's why all of this started.” She cleared her throat and looked at her hands; hands that had moments ago held the broken and bloodless body of her brother. “I promised I'd look out for him. He was afraid to come to the city. He thought it was too big for him. I told him he'd be fine. I promised him I'd keep him safe. He only came here because of me.” Her eyes went wide again. “My God. This is my-”

  “Don't you dare!” I said, kneeling down and taking her hands in mine. They were wet with tears and shaking. Looking her straight in the eyes, I saw more pain than I'd seen in a long time, maybe more pain than I had ever seen from anyone who wasn't me. “This isn't your fault, and I won't stand for you blaming yourself. Not when there's a perfectly guilty bastard out there somewhere.”

  “Who?” she asked, looking over at me. Her lips had narrowed into a thing line of steeled resolve. “Who did this, Roy? You said Isa said something about a Benefactor, someone Fulton worked for. Is that who you mean?”

  My heart broke right down the middle, half because of just how Renee was hurting, and half because I knew I wouldn't be able to fix it. At least not right now.

  “I’m not sure. Maybe it was just psychobabble, but if it isn’t, well, maybe that’s who is really responsible,” I said as confidently as I could. I had no idea if what I was saying was true, let alone if I could even find this Benefactor. Hell, I didn’t even know if I wanted to find him. “But I’m going to find out.”

  “Roy!” Gary squealed, rushing through the door. He shook his head as his oblong eyes flickered from me to Renee. My best friend and resident imp had gone out to doctor the scene after we'd discovered Nate.

  As an imp, he had the distinct advantage of being invisible to anyone who wasn't aware his kind existed. Let’s just say that trick came in handy for stuff like making sure the Atlanta police department didn't realize the car this dead kid's body slammed into belonged to me. I was way too new here to be able to talk my way out of something like that without a whole hell of a lot of unnecessary attention. The victim being my girlfriend’s brother? Well that would've made things even worse.

  “I cleaned up the scene. They think he…” his eyes flickered over to Renee as the small green imp crawled up my leg and shimmied up my arm before perching on my shoulder. “They think he threw himself into traffic.”

  A shiver ran through Renee's body. “Thank God our parents are dead,” she said, fighting back tears. “Because this would have killed them.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, looking over at her and swallowing hard.

  “Don't do that,” she answered, standing with bitterness in her tone. “We both know life doesn't work like that. You can't keep everybody safe, but…”

  “I’ll keep you safe,” I said as I rubbed her shoulders. “Always.”

  “Don't make that kind of promise, Roy.” She turned and strode into the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

  I stood, and let out a slow breath in an effort to calm down.
I was one of the most uniquely powerful people on the planet. A warlock was a badass all on their own, but I was more than that. I was half-demon, and as such, I had all the dark energy and scary mojo that came with it. Still, she might be right. What if I couldn’t keep her safe from whatever had killed her brother?

  “Goddamn it!” I said, throwing a fist into the plaster of my new hallway wall. A spike of pain exploded through my hand as it plowed a hole straight through it.

  “Calm down, Roy boy!” Gary said, rushing from one shoulder to the other and patting my head. “After the last place went up in flames, I thought we were going to try and keep this place in one piece. It’s way too early to start breaking things.”

  “What the fuck are we going to do, Gary?” I asked, ignoring his comment about the wall. “I have no idea who the Benefactor is, let alone how to stop him. The fact that I'm not dead in a ditch after taking on Fulton is just proof that any asshole can get lucky.” I took a deep breath. “What if I can't do this? What if I get Renee killed? What if I get us all killed?”

  “Then it'll be long overdue given some of the shit we've been up to,” Gary answered, crossing his arms over his chest. “We should have died ten times over, and we haven't.” He thumped my ear with a long finger. “That's 'cause of you, dumbass. You know that, right? The only reason we're not in matching pine boxes is because you're better than you think you are.” He shook his head. “So, no. I'm not scared, Roy boy. Not for us anyway.”

  “What about Renee?” I asked. “She shouldn't have died a million times by now or whatever. She should be alive.”

  “She is alive, Roy. Thanks to you, she is alive, and you’re going to keep her that way. Even if it's going to be hard,” Gary said, nudging me in the neck with a sharp shoulder and resting his hand on top of my head. “That doesn't mean I'm not worried about her for other reasons though. She looks like she's taking it hard.”

  “She is,” I said, glancing at the closed bedroom door. “But I'm less concerned with her current mental state and more interested in making sure whoever the fuck the Benefactor is doesn't come back and finish the job.”

  “That's your 'I've got a plan' voice,” Gary grimaced, shaking his head. “Not the good plan voice, but the crazy, suicidal plan one.”

  “You haven’t even heard what the plan is and you’re already judging me?” I stood, turned, and shrugged to alert him to get off my shoulder. He obeyed, hopping down dutifully. “Grab my computer, Gary. We've got a kidnapping to plan.”

  2

  I stood in the distance as I watched Diane Freeman step from her overpriced luxury Sedan. There was a time when I could have tailed the leggy blonde, walking far enough behind her to blend in with the throng of people who now moved across Atlanta’s midday city streets, but those days were over. At least, when it came to people like Diane.

  If she had been a human, this wouldn’t be an issue. I could have walked right up and introduced myself as Detective Roy Morgan, hardworking member of Atlanta’s finest. She wouldn’t have given me a second thought. Hell, she may have even blushed a little as I shot her a smile and winked.

  Too bad Diane Freeman wasn’t a human. At least not in the traditional sense, and that meant she probably would have recognized me for what I was straight away.

  I thought about that as I stood my ground, watching her disappear behind the corner that led her to the Drury Inn off Perimeter, exactly where I wanted her to go.

  Pulling up my phone, I send out a text.

  She’s on the move. Be ready in five.

  I stuffed my phone back into my pocket.

  To say things had taken a strange turn in the week or so would be a wild understatement. When we took out Fulton, Renee and I thought we were on the right track, that her brother might still be alive out there somewhere, and we could find him if we just looked hard enough. Turned out, we didn’t need to look at all. Just like it turned out taking down Fulton was the worst thing I could have done for my cover.

  Though Fulton had started life as the fragmented byproduct of a randy fairy’s mental collapse, she quickly worked her way up to the most powerful and prolific player in Atlanta’s supernatural community. So, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise to me when the person who took her down became an instant legend. It shouldn’t have, but it did.

  I lost my anonymity, and before long, I was the big bad Fulton slayer and, after that, everything that went bump in the night came knocking at my door, asking for my help in whatever crazy ass situation they happened to find themselves in.

  What was worse, everyone seemed to know and be ridiculously fascinated by my secret. That was bad for business, given I couldn’t necessarily sneak up on evildoers if they knew I was coming.

  I finished the spell I had been working on, muttering a few words in Latin as I finished sprinkling the pink Himalayan salt into a small circle. That would work as a binding for someone like Diane, someone who lived in two worlds at once. It might also nudge her toward deciding to help us.

  Slapping my hands together and dusting off any excess salt, I made my way toward the back entrance of the hotel. My phone buzzed, and I reached for it.

  A text from Renee replying to the one I’d just sent.

  Great. Balcony’s unlocked. Get your ass up here, you mutt.

  She ended it with one of those winky smiley faces. I could never tell if those meant she was making fun of me or she wanted to get into my pants. Truth was, I’d definitely take one if it came with the other.

  It was strange though, I usually hated when someone called out my nature like that. Being half demon and half warlock had always been a sore spot for me. I guess I never really got over the beatings I used to take as a kid from stuck up pure breeds who thought I was a joke, an abomination, or some pathetic combination of the two.

  Renee didn’t make me feel like that. She made me feel like I could own it somehow, like it wasn’t something to be ashamed of anymore. Or maybe she had just force fed me one too many chick flicks lately.

  Turning the corner opposite the one Diane had just vanished behind, I circled across the back of the hotel, finding the fire escape and pulling myself up. I had to hold my nose as I ascended. Hotels are like people in a weird way. Up front, they’re all pomp, glitz, and façade. In back, they’re nothing but a steaming garbage heap. At least, that’s the way I had always found most of them.

  The room we had rented for this occasion was on the seventh floor, which is what you get when you don’t book ahead. If I had known Diane Freeman’s countrywide tour was going to be throwing her in my neck of the woods, I would have made better arrangements. I guess we make do with what we’re given.

  I was halfway up, right under the flat panel on the main third floor railing when I saw her. Diane Freeman, all six foot two of her, stared down at me with stern blue eyes, blonde hair that spilled into loose curls around her face, and seemingly endless legs that disappeared into a white dress and jacket set further up her thigh than she should have been comfortable with.

  What was she doing here behind the building? I just watched her circle the front, and wondered why she staring down at me like that? All signs pointed to my cover being blown.

  “Detective Morgan, you’ve got quite the reputation among the dead. I hope the living are more complimentary for your own sake,” she asked, crossing a heeled foot over the over and tapping red painted nails on the guardrail.

  Yep. At least I was right about one thing today. Cover meet blown.

  “Are you Diane Freeman, the medium lady from the television?” I asked in an overly wistful voice, trying to project a surprised air. Maybe she’d think I was nothing more than a drooling fan. Maybe she’d think all I’d ask for was an autograph and maybe a selfie to stick on my Instagram feed (not that I had one of those).

  “Don’t play games with me, Detective. Even if I didn’t know exactly who you were, I’d have been able to feel the energy coming off you like the smell of this place, which isn’t pleasant.” Her over
ly made up face crinkled in disgust.

  “You’re impressive. What are you like, one of three people in the world who can truly speak with the dead?” I said, dropping the pitch of my voice along with my pretenses. “I didn’t think you had seen me back there.” Still walking, she didn’t flinch as I settled beside her on the railing. In fact, she seemed to lean in a little closer, as though she wasn’t afraid of me at all. Maybe she knew who I was, but not what I was.

  “Oh, I didn’t,” she shrugged, the bulky padding on her shoulders rising and falling with her statement. “Some people think being a medium is all doom and gloom. They think I’ve got restless spirits shaking me out of bed every night so I can listen to their sob stories, and I do,” she admitted, brushing the curls out of her eyes with a meticulously manicured hand. “That’s not all though. It also means I always have someone watching out for me. It means I have sets of eyes that aren’t my own looking out for me regardless of where I am.” She straightened her dress with the flat palm of her hand and looked back up at me. “I thought it was a little odd when my agent told me I was being offered fifty thousand dollars for a private reading. I thought it was even odder when the person refused to be named beforehand. So I got my little spies to look out for me.” She shook her head. “I knew exactly who you were and what I was walking into before I even got in my car this morning. What I don’t know, what you’ve been keeping so close to the vest even the deceased can’t figure it out, is what you want exactly. That’s why I came, Detective Morgan. Not because I plan on helping you, but because I need to know just what is so important that the great Fulton slayer had to come to me for help.”

  “It wasn’t just you,” I admitted. “I went to others first, mediums who -you know- don’t have their faces plastered on the sides of every bus in the tristate area.”