Kill It With Magic: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Lillim Callina Chronicles Book 1) (10 page)

Chapter 12

I stumbled backward with my katana in front of my body as my left hand found the hilt of Set and whipped it out.

“Kongounonikutai.” With that command the energy stored within Shirajirashii turned into a shield around my body. A shield formed, turning my body, clothes, and hair alabaster save for a bleeding, crimson dot in the center of my forehead.

“We’ve only just begun, and you’re already draining the power of your Dioscuri weapon.” The corners of Bob’s mouth twitched into an almost-smile. “Either you’re taking this seriously or you’re worried I’m going to kill you too soon. Don’t worry little Dioscuri; one doesn’t get to kill your kind very often. I intend on savoring this battle. If I wanted you dead quickly, I could have killed you the moment you walked into my home.”

A split second later he threw a punch at me, and I slashed at him with my wakazashi. The blade caught him along the wrist, slicing through his flesh in a flash of blood that sprayed across my face. The rest of his arm slammed into my chest, flinging me backward like a rag doll.

As I hit the ground my katana slipped from my hand. I watched in horror as Bob walked over to Isis and stomped on it. The weapon shattered as his foot crashed through it and into the earth beneath him. Whiplash from the spell exploded behind my eyes like a giant, broken rubber band.

The shield I had formed around me ebbed. Sure, I can do some pretty amazing things when I have the right focus and even cooler things when I have a weapon like Shirajirashii. But I still need that focus to maintain the spell even after I’ve cast it. Bob had just succeeded in reducing my shield by half its power, and I’d just cast the damn thing. Talk about wasted energy.

When things like that happen, it’s usually time to throw all the cards on the table and hope they are better than your opponent’s hand, especially if he is going to try and kill you. Because you don’t get to be a vampire founder without being at least a little tough, and you don’t get to beat one without being at least a little bit crazy.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t physically strong, especially when hitting someone like Bob. I’m small. I can only force so much magic into my muscles before they can’t keep up with the strain. If I kept going like this, I was going to kill myself long before Bob could do it.

Bob unslung his sword, Frost, from the sheath on his back. Cold fog rolled off the edges of the blade like it was breathing out frozen air. It glowed violently in his hand and I could almost hear the weapon calling to me, whispering sweet deadly nothings in my ear.

I scrambled backward, barely regaining my feet as Bob shattered the earth in front of me with a nonchalant swing. Bits of ice and stone pelted me, and I heard the blade call to me again. It was like a tiny voice in my head that asked one simple question. “
What good was a wakazashi going to do against a weapon like that?”

I sheathed Set, and the call of Frost was suddenly so loud in my ears that I could hear nothing but the rushing gale of remorseless winter. I held my hand out toward Bob and muttered a word.

“Come.”

Frost trembled, straining against Bob’s hand as ice spread out across his fingers like a flowing glacier. The old vampire stared down at the weapon, eyes wide as the sword he had used for centuries tore itself from of his grip and flew into my open hands. Who says you can’t learn any cool tricks from watching old movies?

My muscles heaved and strained under the weight of Frost as I held it with both hands. It was so cold that it was like pouring ice water into my veins. Cold radiated out from the weapon, chilling me to the core. A quick glance told me that my hands had actually turned blue.

“I always did like fire a little better.” A thin smile crossed Bob’s lips. Very slowly he drew his fire sword, Melt, and swept it casually through the air, like a batter taking a few test swings. Flames spouted from the edges of the massive black blade.

He came at me so fast that I couldn’t even move Frost as he slammed the broadside of Melt into my stomach. Thick blisters formed there as the blade seared my flesh even through the shield of Kongounoikutai. I staggered back, the tip of Frost digging roughly against the dirt at my feet. I screamed and swung Frost in an upward arc.

Clang!

Melt was raised above me, so close that the heat of it scalded my brow. Flames leapt off Melt’s edges but were chased back by icy blasts of fog. Frost was holding its brother off. The vampire smiled, showing entirely too much fang… and drove his knee into my midsection.

My shield shattered, energy flaking off of me like ash from burned wood. My skin lost its abnormal shade of alabaster as I crashed backward into the dirt. Frost fell from my hand and lay next to me, almost throbbing with power.

Bob smiled at me and licked his lips. He swung again, and I rolled to the side praying I was faster than his tremendous speed. Melt gouged a great cleft in the dirt beside me, and I silently mumbled a prayer of thanks to any and all deities. I don’t know how I’d managed to avoid the blow, but I was glad I had. I grabbed Frost and pushed the last of my power into my shaking arms as I flung the massive ice blade at him. It slammed into his chest and burst out his back in a cloud of frozen blood.

He staggered back, leaving Melt buried to the hilt in the ground. Ice filled the wound, slowly freezing him from the inside out as he dropped to his knees in front of me. I grabbed hold of Frost’s hilt and kicked him off the ice blade in an explosion of gore that sent him skidding across the ground. Surely that would put him down for a while. Even he couldn’t shake off a gaping chest wound, right?

I staggered toward Logan, the tip of Frost dragged along in the dirt behind me leaving a thin trail of ice in its wake. Logan glanced at me and his eyes were alight with… joy? A twisted smile filled his face. The chanting stopped and it was suddenly so quiet that only the sound of my own ragged breathing filled my ears.

“That’s how I put boot to ass, Logan. Don’t make me do it again.” I was trying to sound like I had more left than I did.

Logan didn’t respond. He drove his cold iron sword through the salted demon and into the hallowed earth below. He stepped back as the demon shattered in an explosion of salt and flame. A shrill scream filled the air, so loud that I almost dropped Frost and covered my ears. Lava burst from the hilt of the weapon like a fountain as Logan lifted the baby into the air and drew one of his fangs along its arm. Blood oozed from the wound, and Logan rubbed it against the hilt of the blade. There was a loud whoosh as the blood touched the weapon.

A single arc of electricity tore the sky asunder and slammed into the hilt of the blade, creating a blaze several stories high. It burst out of the weapon as the soul of the demon was absorbed into the sword.

I turned and ran as flames raged after me like a vicious serpent. Logan’s shrill cry chilled me to the bone as he flew through the air with wings hewn in flame, one hand clutching the baby’s unmoving form and the other a vicious blade of red-black fire.

I guess Bob had successfully bought enough time for Logan to make his new weapon,
and
he still had the baby. If I was keeping score, which I totally wasn’t, I’d say he was ahead of me. Just a tad… but still ahead. The fire behind me was like a bonus round.

My legs pumped harder as the flames licked closer and closer. The scenery around me seemed to lose focus bit by bit.

“I’m so tired…” I mumbled.

“Turn, raise Frost, and fight,” Mattoc’s voice cooed in my ear. I’d completely forgotten he had been with me the entire time. Sometimes I wished he wouldn’t hide when other people showed up.

I turned, and although I couldn’t feel him, I knew Mattoc was guiding my hand. The edges around my vision started to go black as I drew Frost up and struck outward at the onrushing flame.

Chapter 13

Water fell from the sky in buckets that left me soaked and lying in mud. I crawled to my feet, huddling within my sodden overcoat and shivering. I was mucky, grimy, and dare I say it, icky.

I shook my head and glanced toward a boarded up building a few meters from me. It would be enough to provide cover from the rain. Something might have lived there before, but as of right now, the place looked empty.

At least that feeling was familiar. I knew what being alone felt like. I had come into this world very different from the normal kids. They had picked on me. My hair was the wrong color. My mom was a crazy person. I grew too fast. I was Dirge Meilan reborn.

My accelerated growth had taken me from a toddler to a teenager in the space of a year. It was hard enough without being thrown to the wolves… literally.

The mud squelched under my boots, threatening to suck me under. I had always hated the smell of rain and mud. I didn’t know why but it always brought to mind the image of worms, slimy and revolting as they lay squirming on the pavement. Something brushed against my leg. I screamed.

“Why are you so afraid?” The voice shook me, and I stumbled backward and fell on my butt. The mud surged up around me, dirty and disgusting. “Are you not a Dioscuri? Are you not Lillim Cortez Callina, daughter of the vicious Diana Cortez?”

A scream ripped from my lips, and I struggled to crawl backward on my hands. My heart leapt up in my throat and tried to beat its way out of my body as my hands clawed for purchase in the thick, reddish mud. There was mud in my hair, under my fingernails, crawling up my skin as though it was alive… and yet I couldn't get away. Despite all my struggles, I had not managed to move even one inch.

“Mother?” My voice was low and shaky. “What are you doing here?”

Diana Cortez stood over me, eyes surveying me like a prowling lioness. Rain cascaded over her so that she almost shimmered. A delicate white and pink kimono shielded her body from view. Surely this could not be her. Surely I had to be dreaming.

Dream or not, she took a step toward me and shook her head. The look of disapproval on her pursed ruby-red lips was not something I’d want to take a picture of and keep in my wallet. I tried to calm myself, but the more I tried, the closer I got to hyperventilating.

She bent down so close that I could feel her breath on my face. Her kimono slipped off her shoulders to reveal flesh so marred with scars and burn marks that I shuddered. When I was little she used to trail her fingers along them, regaling me with tales of each hideous disfigurement. Her eyes tore me asunder, leaving me raw and naked before her.

“If it isn’t my dear sweet Lillim acting like an angst-filled sixteen-year-old brat. Are you digging more issues out of the couch cushions?” she sneered, the rain dripping down her kimono to pool at her feet.

“It isn’t hard to dig them up when you throw my face in the dirt. Is that why you’ve come, mother? Have you come to taunt me? To kick me further into the mud?” I regretted it before I’d said it. A tremor climbed down my spine, and I fought to breathe normally.

My mother fished a cigarette out of her pocket and stuck it between her lips. She placed a hand over her silver lighter to cover the flame. Water poured down her skin, her hair, her clothing, but she ignored it. With a single gesture she could will away the rain. She could call off the lightning and dominate the thunder.

“I'm going to be plain with you, my dear sweet Lillim.” Her voice was hard as granite, cold as a glacial iceberg, and angry as the western winds. “You are a piece of self-loathing work. If my stomach was any weaker, it would empty its contents in revulsion.”

I glared at her, anger billowing up inside me, so blistering that it should have frightened me. I tried to stand, tried to push myself from the mud so I could throttle her. The more I struggled, the more the mud pulled me backward.

“How can you say those things to me? After all I’ve gone through… how?” I’m not proud of it, but my voice cracked part way through, and I started to cry. Tears ran down my cheeks, so hot that they seemed to sear my flesh. I wiped at them frantically, desperately trying to hide my shame, but I succeeded only in smearing mud across my face.

My mother leaned closer to me, a smug smile on her blood-red lips. Slowly, she extended her left hand and touched my cheek. Her fingers trailed down to my neck and rested on my shoulder as she took a drag on the cigarette, exhaling the smoke through her nose.

“Do I need a reason to taunt you? Take a look at yourself, my daughter. You are lying in the mud.” For the first time warmth seemed to gather in her cheeks. “I know you are tougher than this, for you are
my
daughter.”

My face flushed with anger, and I pushed her hand away. “I never hold myself back!” I screamed and struck the mud.

Her face turned stern, her lips a tight line against her almond-colored skin. She tapped the ash off her cigarette and held it between two knuckles. Then she dropped her cigarette into the mud. The rain put it out before it even touched the ground. My mother squatted down in front of me, her elbows on her knees.

“Even if the whole world was against you, my daughter, that should not make you give up. It should be the reason why you rage against it.” She looked up to the sky and lightning flashed, thunder boomed, and wind howled. My mother waved her hand at the sky, and the clouds melted away, the rain stopped, and the sun broke through.

“What if those that count on me die because I’m too weak? I tried to stop them. I tried to save the baby. What if I keep trying my best and they still win?”

“My dear sweet daughter,” she cooed and pulled me from the mud. “All we can do is our best. Sometimes our best is not enough, and you will feel the sting of defeat. The important part is to keep getting up. It is to keep standing when you fall.”

I gulped and looked her in the eyes. They weren’t as hard as I expected them to be. If I didn’t know better, I’d have said she looked almost proud.

“You have started down a path, and you are welcome to leave it. You are welcome to ask for help, and you are welcome to give up. But if you give up now, if you walk away and leave this trouble in someone else’s hands, then you will have made a poor choice.”