Kill It With Magic: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Lillim Callina Chronicles Book 1) (6 page)

I bit my lip to stifle my scream. I had to get to that vampire, had to save that baby. I started to crawl toward the creature. Blood dribbled from my lip, hot and sticky against my skin as I moved, concentrating on a single movement at a time. Bits of debris tore at my flesh, but I was getting closer.

The vampire took a quick step back from me, fiddling with one of the rings on his hand. I guess trying to work magic with a squirming, screaming baby in one arm was more difficult than he’d expected. I reached out my hand and seized hold of his long, purple robes and yanked as hard as I could. He looked down at me and knocked my hand away with a contemptuous little kick. I looked up into the mask that covered his face and knew that I would kill him. I didn’t know who he was, but I would find out, and I would kill him.

Something gleamed on the floor beside me, and I reached toward it. My fingers tightened over the metal grip of the shotgun.

The cry of the gunshot seemed to shatter the room. The buckshot took the vampire in the leg and damn near ripped it off his body. The creature fell awkwardly, and a ring flew from his finger. Reddish light, so bright that I had to shield my eyes from it, burst from the ring, enveloping him and the child both. Just like that, they were gone.

I felt warm tears on my cheeks before I realized I was crying. Maybe Voln hadn’t known what was in the box? That was unlikely. He wouldn’t have wanted it so badly unless he knew what was inside. I rolled onto my knees, sick to my stomach, as the rain extinguished the last of the fire. I wheezed, trying to get a handle on what had happened.

“Lillim! Lillim!” Mattoc was screaming at me, pointing at my door, but I could do little more than stare blankly at him. ”You need to get out of here right—”

I turned toward my door in time to see it fly off its hinges and crash into my desk. Great. Just great. My entire apartment was destroyed, my little hideaway from the world was all but burned to a crisp, and now I had to fix the door, too.

The werewolf shaman strode into my apartment and settled his gaze on me. It felt like bugs running up and down my skin, and I swallowed to keep from screaming. “I have searched for you all week, Dioscuri,” he said. Evidently the wisp had taken a week to transport me home. I freaking hate wisps.

“I have a very good explanation.” I got to my feet, forcing my heart to slow down before it exploded out of my chest. “I didn’t know…”

“Look how uninterested I am in your explanation.” His expression had not changed.

“I don’t have him anymore,” I wheezed though I’m pretty sure he thought I was lying. “He was just taken from me.”

He snarled, and his rage washed over me like lava, so warm, so hot that it seared my senses. “I am Gib, Alpha Shaman of the White Alpine. You have taken my son,
my
son
, and you have the audacity to tell me you lost him?”

“I’ll help you find him. I promise.”

He lunged with such ferocity that I barely had time to avoid it. What turned to face me was a creature hewn from my nightmares. His muscular frame was covered with thick tufts of reddish-brown fur. His elongated snout, filled with millions of razor-sharp teeth, seemed too long for his face, almost like it belonged to an alligator. I backpedaled as the werewolf flexed its claws, regarding me as if considering whether or not to use ketchup.

He howled and the sound made the hair on the back of my neck stand up as he bounded toward me. I tore Shirajirashii from its sheaths and stabbed the twin blades into his oncoming form. Both of his hands grabbed my head and slammed me into the wall. My vision went blurry. Gib tapped the claws of his thumbs against my eyebrows just hard enough to draw blood as I tore my blades out of him in an explosion of gore that he barely seemed to notice.

“It is out of respect for your mother that the elders would not allow me to kill you. However, if you fail to retrieve my son, think about what I will do to you. Even your mother, with all of her Dioscuri, will not be able to protect you from my wrath,” Gib snarled, fetid breath and spittle spraying across my face.

He flung me to the floor. His wounds were nearly gone. In another minute or so, there would be no trace that I had hurt him at all.

Chapter 7

“The whole point of sending you after the box was so that you could keep the other vampires from getting it. You were not supposed to hand it over on a silver platter.” Voln D’Lamprey’s face was as unchanging as a granite statue. It made the venom seething from his words all the more savage.

“You only told me to retrieve the box— which you neglected to tell me was enchanted by the way. You never said anything about the contents. You could have mentioned that the box contained a werewolf shaman’s son,” I snarled. I was pretty much done dealing with supernatural creatures. It was the only thing keeping me from a full panic attack. If I didn’t focus on how angry I was…

“I was unaware Prince Dar was in the box. The bear caste merely requested the box
with
contents. That’s why I sent you after it. The Bears have been plotting something. It now appears that the prince was an integral part.” I could tell Voln wasn’t telling me the whole truth, which struck me odd coming from a person dressed like a priest inside a church.

Behind me Gib bristled. I turned to look at him. The shaman was sitting in one of the pews behind me with a look of absolute serenity on his ashen face. I swallowed, and without thinking, took a step back. That look was a lie. While he may have painted that look across his face, it never reached his eyes, which made sense; most people can’t lie with their eyes… To be honest, I don’t really like dealing with the people who can. People who can lie with their eyes have problems.

Gib’s eyes did not lie. They seethed with such hatred and loathing that it thrummed along my skin, like heat cast from a blazing fire. Our eyes met for the briefest moment, and my breath whooshed out of me. I took another step back, forcing myself to take a deep breath and unclench my hands. I hadn’t realized I’d balled them into fists. My palms were clammy, and it took every ounce of willpower I had not to wipe them on my skirt.

The werewolf rose, lines of taut muscle rippling beneath his jeans and white button-down shirt as he moved. It was like watching a wild cat stalking prey through high grass, and even though I didn’t expect him to attack me, I couldn't help wanting to run away. That probably wouldn’t have been the best thing to do anyway. Predators usually chase things that run away.

“You’re a king?” I squeaked.

“Yes.” The edge of his voice was tinged with the threat of violence. If something went wrong, there was going to be a blood bath.

“You mean you didn’t know he was one of the four Garou kings?” Voln asked, stifling a laugh. I glanced at Gib and his eyes told me, in no uncertain terms, that if he couldn’t control his anger, we were going to be in for a world of pain.

“Well… I really just learned his name a few minutes ago, and it has been sort of a long day— leave me alone.” I waved my hands as I stepped between Voln and the oncoming werewolf. “Why did the Bears want the kid?”

Voln’s eyes had narrowed to slits. “I don’t know why they want him. The founder of the caste was the one asking for it. He doesn’t usually explain himself.”

“If what you say is true, the Owls have likely taken my son to the Bears,” Gib said, and I tried to ignore the thin trace of hysteria beating just below the surface of his voice. The look of worry on his normally handsome face sent shivers down my spine and tightened my stomach. I’m not sure if he realized how vulnerable he looked just then, but I knew that if I kept looking at him, I might just break down.

Voln started to say something, but Gib held up his hand. “You should have told me what was going on. I could have protected my son.” He glanced at me for a second. “Much better than
she
could.”

Voln sighed and shook his head. “It’s not that simple. I cannot openly defy the founder of a caste as powerful as the Bears. My current status is not so cemented in time that they have forgotten I used to openly hunt them.”

That was the other reason Voln D’Lamprey was so well known. In the first days of the Catholic Church there had been priests dedicated to the eradication of supernatural creepy-crawlies. Voln D’Lamprey had been one of the best. That is, until he was turned into a vampire himself. That sort of sick twist of fate wasn’t all too uncommon, but when he continued killing vampires… well, that became the stuff of legends. Even now, Voln was much more sympathetic to us humans than the other vampires would ever be. He probably
was
trying to help me in his makes-no-sense-to-mere-mortals vampire way.

Gib’s lips peeled back to reveal his teeth. A low rumbling emanated from the back of his throat. It was a sound I didn’t know he could make in human form, and it caused the hair on the back of my neck to stand up. He took a step toward Voln. I shook my head and took a deep breath. I hated having to play the grownup.

“Why did you name your kid Dar anyway?” The words tumbled out of my mouth so fast that it made both of them turn and look at me.

“He is named after the first Dragon Knight, the legendary werewolf who defeated the great dragon Wyrm in ancient times. It is a powerful name, fitting for our royal bloodline. The name will give him strength. Why do you ask, Dioscuri? Is there more you are not telling me?” Gib stared at me, letting the silence build between us until I could almost reach out and touch it.

I sighed. I wasn’t the only person in the history of mankind to have been reincarnated. Realistically, I probably wasn’t even the only person to remember her past lives. Lots of people have been reincarnated… several times. Even the great heroes of old, like the first Dragon Knight, get reincarnated and maybe, just maybe, Gib’s son was actually the reincarnated Dragon Knight of old. If he was Dar Silver-tongue reborn, then sacrificing him might just give the new drake enough power to challenge Warthor. I’d just have to hope that the vampires weren’t actually in league with the dragon, and admittedly, I felt a little naive just thinking that. But hey, here’s to hoping.

“There is a high-ranking vampire named Logan who lives in the House of Owl.” Voln’s voice turned Gib’s attention back to him. “He owes me a favor. I will make sure he speaks with you. I am truly sorry about what has happened, Lord Gib. Know that at this time, this is all I can do.”

Great, that was just what I needed, more things to do before I could find Warthor. By the time I finished chasing all these wild geese, not only was Warthor going to have found out about Sharkface, but he was definitely going to have moved into the evil laugh phase of whatever plot he had cooked up to stop Sharkface from taking out Trius. If I didn’t start rounding up some of these wild geese soon, the more likely we were to enter into world-ending-apocalypse territory. I needed a wild goose-catching net.

“This is unacceptable.” Gib turned his eyes to me, and I was pretty sure that if he could think me to death, I’d have exploded. “You will go to this Logan, and you will track down my son. Now!” His calm finally shattered, putting his hatred on full display.

“Um…” I mumbled, mostly just to have something to say. Logan was a vampire I’d met before. That grease ball wasn’t the typical vampire who specialized in blood magic. At least he wasn’t what I expected because I always pictured a tall, spindly fellow with long boney fingers and greasy blond hair… Logan was barrel-chested, short, and had pudgy fingers like fat sausages. He had an almost girlish sort of face, and always, without fail, wore beaded necklaces.

On top of that, the Owls were perhaps the most dangerous of all the vampire castes. Sure, the other ones could rip you to pieces and all, but some Owls had been rumored to be able to make a person’s blood congeal into a solid substance with the merest touch… and I was going to go accuse them of kidnapping. Swell.

Chapter 8

The stench of old blood and rotting meat inside the House of Owl was so strong that I could practically feel it clinging to my skin. Gib had taken one step inside and declared that he would wait for me outside. I’m pretty sure that it had more to do with the guards not wanting to let him in than the smell, though. Otherwise, that would make him a pretty horrible father.

That had been three hours ago, and the receptionist was being none too helpful in summoning Logan. I had known that Voln didn’t have much pull with the other vampires, so I had expected to wait, but this was growing unbearable. Every breath filled me with such revulsion that I’d had to make my way outside more than a few times. Sometimes fresh air is a marvelous thing.

As I paced in the foyer, I kind of wished Gib was with me. While vampires always creeped me out, being in this room was unnerving me to a degree I’d not thought possible. It was hard to stand there, in the thick of the place, and know that behind every door grisly experiments and blood sacrifices were taking place.

“Ma’am?” The receptionist’s shrill voice cut through me and I jumped.

“Yes?”

“I’m afraid Logan will be unable to see you today. However,” she said before I could respond, “Mistress Danae will be more than happy to see you in his stead.”

I nodded my head to show that this change would be suitable, though I knew from her tone that by “more than happy” she meant “grudgingly.” I guess Voln’s name carried some weight after all.

Danae descended the stairs with the sort of supernatural grace reserved for deities— as though light existed for the sole purpose of making her appear ever more stunning. Her eyes held that schoolgirl innocence that the rest of her sinful gait seemed to betray with every step. Thin strips of red satin clung to her in such a way as to suggest what might be underneath and to make you hope that they might move just a little bit more… if you were into that sort of thing.

There are different kinds of vampires within clans. Some of them, like Logan, were the normal bloodsuckers. It was the other ones, the ones normal people referred to as the succubus and incubus, that I really disliked. They were creatures that thrived on lust. Guess which one Danae was? And when she was in full charm mode, like now, I couldn’t help but notice every little thing she did.