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

by J. A. Cipriano

  Click.

  My heart hammered in my chest as the sound of his claws scraping against the stone grew louder with each step he took.

  Click.

  I stumbled to my feet and turned to face the creature as he strode down the stairs toward me like an avenging god, thin wisps of my hair fluttering from his hand. I touched my scalp and my hand came away crimson. That’s when I noticed about a zillion other werewolves were gathered at the hole in the wall I’d made earlier. To make matters worse, the shaman had positioned himself in front of the only means of escape… again. I hadn’t even noticed the bastard doing it. He was good, a little too good for my liking.

  “I didn’t want to do this,” I screamed in a mixture of rage and fear as I ripped my katana from its sheath.

  “Don’t bother. While you may have been able to use your Dioscuri weapons to break in here, their power won’t work within these walls.” He seemed so sure of himself that it really pissed me off.

  “Fair enough.” I drew my pistol in one swift movement and fired. The bullet went wide, smacking into the stone behind him. I don’t know how, but he’d managed to cross the room and grab hold of my left hand before I could get off another shot. His vice-like grip wrenched my hand sideways, and my gun clattered to the ground. I screamed and drove my knee into his crotch. His wild eyes glazed even before he doubled over. Finally, something I’d done had hurt him. I slammed my palm into the side of his head with all the force I could muster and shouted, “White Sparrow!”

  A pillar of superheated light crashed into him. I think it surprised him. Just because I couldn’t use my magical weapons, didn’t mean I couldn’t use other spells. I smiled. My mother would have been proud.

  The werewolf’s flesh began to burn and the smell of charred meat filled my nostrils. As he pounded against the flaming barrier bits of blackened hair and skin flaked off his body. I turned away from him and fought down a wave of nausea. I was not going to vomit in the middle of this fight.

  The wave of werewolves rushed the hole in the wall, making me glad I had turned toward them, even if it hadn’t been on purpose. Behind me, the burning power I’d unleashed roiled around the shaman. I took a step back from the oncoming horde and felt my spell suddenly weaken. I glanced at the shaman as he twisted his head toward one of the windows high up on the wall. Through the window the moon seemed to be no more than a few yards away. Moonlight seemed to pour into the room, filling the space between the shaman and my spell.

  Crack!

  My spell shattered, blowing outward in a wave of energy that tore a scream from my lips. My knees buckled, and I stumbled. I fell sprawling to the ground. The beasts closed in on me, circling like the pack of wolves they were.

  Not good.

  The shaman howled and stepped forward, smoke rising off of him in wispy tendrils. I managed to move back onto my haunches before he rushed me. I tore my wakazashi from its sheath and drove it into his gut as he crashed into me. Gore exploded from the wound as I wrenched the blade sideways. Warm blood splattered on my face, and I tried not to gag. The werewolf howled in unrestrained fury as his claws struggled to find purchase in my flesh. Thankfully, it was difficult for him to break through my spell-hardened overcoat.

  With a howl of frustration, his massive paws clamped down around my throat and lifted me into the air, my blade still lodged in his flesh. I struggled, my weapons slipping from my hands, as the world around me faded into blackness.

  Chapter 6

  The empty eye sockets of a grotesque corpse stared at me. I screamed and tried to fling myself away. Pain shot through me as I sucked down a breath that was like swallowing a handful of rusty nails. My heart hammered in my chest as I tried to move, tried frantically to get away.

  Something wet and slimy struck my back, and I screamed again. The rustle of wings filled my ears. Twisting my head toward the sound, I saw a large raven plunge its beak downward, stabbing at a bloated corpse that hung behind me. The body was so close that its bulbous, distended belly actually rubbed against my back as it swayed in the wind. I shrieked and tried to push it away, but my hands were stuck fast to my sides.

  Thick rope bound my limbs together so tightly that I could scarcely move. I was hanging upside down from a tree filled with so many bodies that I couldn’t even count them. A tremor ran down my spine as realization struck me. I was in a hanging tree. I’d heard about them before. It was where werewolves hung convicts to die. The thought sobered me. Lillim Callina was not going to die hanging upside down from a tree. I shut my eyes and focused on taking a few breaths… slowly.

  I opened my eyes. Just a few inches away, a crow was studying my face. It blinked its beady eyes and twitched its beak before turning back to the body in front of me. I swallowed and tried to move my hands. My fingers brushed the hilt of Set, and the touch of it surprised me. Why did I still have my swords? Where had my captors gone? Had they really just left me here unattended? I shook my head and smiled. Whatever the reason was, I wasn’t going to complain if they had decided to leave me armed.

  “Finally. I was worried you would never wake up,” Mattoc cooed into my ear. “They had some kind of argument about you a few minutes ago and went to confer with the elders. I guess the shaman wants to execute you now. He kept talking about some kind of ritual where they ripped out your heart and offered it to the gods. He said that such a ritual would open your spirit pouch.”

  I glared at him. He was floating so that we were eye to eye. When I didn’t move he made a ‘hurry up’ gesture with his hands. I shut my eyes and swallowed. My head was pounding so hard that it was difficult to focus on my magic. It took a lot longer than usual, but power swelled up inside me. Soon I could hear the wind rustling in the trees, feel pine needles prickling my skin, and smell the fragrance of the grasses. I opened myself to the ebb and flow of magic until it slapped against my senses like lapping waves. Very carefully I pulled that thread of power into myself.

  It swelled up inside me until I felt like I was going to burst. The energy kept coming, kept filling me like I was a water balloon and someone had forgotten to shut off the tap. I panicked. My eyes shot open and a soundless scream tore from my throat. All around me sigils in the tree burned with eerie green light. As I tried to release my power they glowed brighter. I didn’t know how they were doing it, but somehow those markings were messing with my ability to unleash my magic.

  Mattoc reached out, running his hands along my face. While I couldn’t feel his touch per se, a cool clamminess spread across my cheek. It gave me something to anchor to, something to hold onto as power rushed into me. I closed my eyes once more and focused. I had to pour this energy into something or I was going to explode.

  I strained against the ropes, my breath coming out in quick little gasps, and the magic surged into my muscles. The tremendous pressure that had been building inside me began to ease. Veins corded beneath my skin as I focused everything on breaking the ropes. They didn’t budge.

  The sigils burned brighter and brighter, so intense that it was like being surrounded by miniature suns. Fear struggled up from my stomach and settled in my throat. I didn’t know exactly what the werewolves’ plan for me was, but one thing was certain. If I couldn’t escape…

  Snap!

  The ropes tore free, and I tumbled downward. I reached out, trying to stop my fall. My fingers closed around the soft, gooey flesh of a corpse’s leg. Pieces of decaying meat tore away in my hands.

  I fell backward, landing so hard on the slimy bones that littered the ground that it knocked the breath from my lungs. I lay there stunned, staring up at the corpses dancing in the wind above me. After what seemed like hours, I crawled to my hands and knees. As I tried to stand a wave of dizziness swept over me. I wobbled to the side and reached out a hand to grab onto Mattoc, who, being the incorporeal bastard that he was, let me fall straight through his body. Nausea crashed down on me like a sledgehammer, and it was all I could do to keep from actually vomiting up my lungs.


  “You probably should have thought that through a little more,” Mattoc said as I wiped off my mouth and glared at him.

  He shrugged and sat down next to me, and for a brief moment, I thought he was going to touch me again. He shook his head. “You’ll feel better after you rest for a bit, Lil’. Too bad we don’t have time for that. You best try to get out of here before those dogs return.”

  I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of a response. Part of it was me being stubborn. My shoulder ached from the fall, but I wasn’t going to admit I’d been hurt. The other part of it was that I was covered in blood and thicker, slimier things. I was getting the hell out of dodge as quickly as I could.

  Mattoc’s eyes widened as I pulled a thin bone-whistle out of my pocket and placed it to my lips. “You’re not seriously going to use the Will-o-whistle?”

  “It’s the quickest way home, and besides, I don’t have to take advice from you. You’re my ghost,” I replied.

  Mattoc narrowed his eyes. “Because blowing a noise-making whistle with a bunch of wolf-like beings around is the smart move. Why not add a drum corps? Perhaps some woodwinds and a whole brass band, too while you’re at it?”

  He continued to prattle on as I blew into the whistle, eliciting a shrill, almost sub-human wail from the device. A large glowing ball of orange light appeared in front of me so suddenly that it was like it had always been there. Energy trailed off of it as the large magenta eye in the center of its form looked at me in disapproval. The creature was so bright that I could barely look at it. Without thinking, I shielded my eyes with my left hand.

  “For what reason have you summoned me, mortal?” The wisp spoke directly into my mind, and it was like having someone bang on a gong inside my head. I shook my head, unused to the mental intrusion, and glared at the creature.

  It had probably lived eons for every second I’d been alive, but that didn’t mean it had to be so damn rude. As a rule, wisps were not friendly creatures. I tried to avoid them; well, I avoided anything that had a penchant for eating babies. Then again, I wasn’t exactly sure how it would eat a baby because it didn’t seem to have a mouth.

  Wisps also tended to follow instructions in a way that wouldn’t be considered helpful. In most situations, summoning a wisp to help would be last on my list of possible solutions to a dilemma. Unfortunately, I didn’t know where Voln had sent me, and I didn’t exactly have cab fare and a cell phone.

  I pictured my home in my mind’s eye and shoved the image toward the wisp. Part of me had been tempted to have the thing take me directly to Voln, but I wasn’t sure I could picture him well enough for that to work out satisfactorily. That meant I was stuck taking the portal by my apartment. Hopefully it was still there.

  “Take me home, and by home I mean I want to be placed lightly on my couch. I do not want to be placed fifty miles above my home and left to drop or some other type of nonsense.”

  “How dare you speak to me in such a way? You are but a very small speck in the scope of time, less than a mote in the eye of a bacterium. When speaking to me, you will speak with respect.” The wisp flared so brightly that I had to turn away to keep from going blind. Even still spots danced in front of my eyes.

  I waved the whistle, and the wisp froze in place. A wisp bound to a whistle had to follow the owner of said whistle’s demands. At least, that’s what the first line in Dealing with Wisps, A Comprehensive Handbook said. I’d never actually tried it out before.

  “Just do it. Now!” I growled.

  I was sitting on my couch in my apartment, the scene having blurred and changed so quickly that it made my head spin. The wisp was already gone. However, that was not the most interesting thing about my return home. My apartment was on fire.

  When you’re sixteen years old, not too many places will rent to you. Not without asking a lot of awkward questions that no amount of lying and forged paperwork can really work through. Now my home was burning to the ground, and the prospect of explaining why I was here to local firefighters was, at best, problematic. Never mind why there were several firearms here, most of which weren’t exactly one hundred percent legal.

  I scurried backward as a flaming beam crashed to the floor in front of me. I flung my hands outward allowing the heat from the fire to feed into me. It crawled along my flesh like boiling lava, threatening to consume me from the inside out. My skin began to turn an ugly shade of lobster red. Thick white clouds of steam began to curl off of me.

  “Udo!” I screamed and forced all of the energy out in a rush. Storm clouds swelled into existence in the room. I struggled under the effort of turning one type of elemental energy into the other as a torrential downpour sprang to life in my living room. A mixture of rain and sweat ran down my face as I dropped to my knees. I gripped the hilt of Isis in an effort to focus my energy. I shut my eyes and concentrated, allowing her sense of calm to wash over me and help me control the fire. I could do this. I was a Dioscuri. I was a master of magic!

  Something struck my face, and I flopped backward onto my butt. A masked man stood over me. He wore the deep maroon and purple robes that belonged to a caste of vampires known as the Owls. Instead of pressing his advantage, he ignored me and pulled a thin, wiry key from his pocket. I gulped down wet, smoke-filled air and nearly gagged as I got to my feet. It wasn’t fair that vampires didn’t have to breathe.

  He wiped the key on his knuckles, knuckles that were covered in blood. I touched my lips and realized my mouth was bleeding. The vampire had my blood… this was not good. With my blood he could get into my spirit pouch, and I’d only put one thing in there recently… the siren box.

  The ground beneath my feet trembled, and my bathroom, along with the walls around it, exploded outward. The shockwave of the blast turned my stomach, like someone had scrunched up my insides. I dove behind my couch and landed with so little grace that I could scarcely believe I’d actually fallen in such a way. Bits of super-heated shrapnel smashed into the couch, knocking it backward on top of me.

  Water began pouring from the pipes in my former bathroom, turning the floor into a thick sludge of char and drywall. I pushed the couch off of me and pulled my shotgun free from beneath the cushions. I pointed it at the vampire.

  The creature stood there unfazed; evidently the explosion had not been sufficiently destructive to merit much of a response. I doubted my landlord would agree. Then again, my landlord would probably frown on me keeping dynamite in the bathroom.

  The vampire muttered something that sounded more like a growl than human speech. He rubbed his thumb and finger together over my blood and more pain then I’d ever felt exploded through my body. My vision went hazy, and the shotgun slipped from my fingers and clattered to the floor.

  Miniature suns danced behind my eyes as I tried to get to my hands and knees. The vampire flicked his wrist, and it was like someone had taken an axe to the air itself. A ragged scream burst from my lips as my things tumbled from the bloody swath that used to be my spirit pouch. The siren box hit the ground with a thud as its song settled over me like a heavy blanket. Momentarily distracted from the pain, I took one of the toughest steps in my life toward the vampire.

  The vampire strode over to the box and waved one jewel-encrusted hand at it. The enchantment on the siren box fell away, and it was like having a bandage ripped off of my entire body at once. He reached inside and what he pulled out made my heart skip a beat. Surely… surely I hadn’t kidnapped an infant. I started to say something as a wave of revulsion swept over me. My legs started shaking as I fell to my hands and knees.

  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, scream
ing 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…”