The Lillim Callina Chronicles: Volumes 1-3

by J. A. Cipriano

  I bit my lip to stifle my cry of frustration. 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 chin and neck as I moved, concentrating on a single movement at a time. Bits of debris tore at my hands and knees, 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 his long, purple robes. I 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 his mask-covered face and knew 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 left hip and damn near ripped his leg off his body. The creature fell awkwardly, and a ring flew from his finger. Reddish light, so bright I nearly went bright, 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 there was a child in the box? That was unlikely. He wouldn’t have wanted it so badly unless he knew what was inside.

  Not that it mattered. I’d kidnapped a kid. Oh my God, I was going to be sick. I rolled onto my knees as nausea roiled in my belly, threatening to surge up my throat. I wheezed, trying to get a handle on what had happened as a sudden flurry of rain extinguished the last of the fire.

  “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—”

  For the second time that day, my door flew open. It tore off its hinges and crashed 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 hinges, too.

  “I have searched for you all week, Dioscuri,” the werewolf shaman snarled, striding into my apartment and settling a gaze on me that felt like bugs running up and down my skin. 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 the child anymore,” I wheezed though I’m pretty sure he thought I was lying. “He was just taken from me literally a minute ago.”

  He snarled, and his rage washed over me like lava, so warm and hot, 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.” The sad thing was I meant it. I’d kidnapped his son and basically handed him over to a vampire. That couldn’t stand. I’d get the kid back if it was the last thing I ever did.

  Gib lunged at me with such ferocity, I barely had time to avoid it. I stepped to the side as he surged past me, and as I turned to face him, what I saw was a creature hewn from my nightmares.

  The werewolf’s 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 Isis and Set from their sheaths and stabbed the twin swords into his oncoming form. Before I could tear them outward and spill his guts onto the floor, 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 he barely seemed to notice. Damn.

  “It is out of respect for your mother 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 I had hurt him at all.

  7

  “The whole point of sending you after the box was so 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. To be fair, I wasn’t sure why Gib had wanted to see the vampire, but now that we were here, I was thinking it was not going to end well. Duh, I know.

  “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 the box contained a werewolf shaman’s son,” I snarled. I was pretty much done dealing with supernatural creatures. Still, anger wouldn’t help the situation, especially if I wanted to get useful information out of the vampire.

  “I was unaware Prince Dar was in the box. The Bear caste of vampires 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 Owl caste is involved too.” I could tell Voln wasn’t telling me the whole truth, which struck me as odd coming from a person dressed like a priest inside a church. “If both of the major castes of vampires are involved, well, you can see why I had to step in.”

  Gib bristled. The shaman sat 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 calm across his face, it never reached his eyes, which made sense because 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 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 stalk 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.

  “Is there something you’d like to say, King Gib?” Voln asked, his head slightly bowed as he spoke.

  “You’re a king?” I squeaked, unable to keep the surprise out of my voice as I turned my eyes from the vampire back to the werewolf coming toward us.

  “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. I’ll be honest, I stepped out of his way.

  “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, 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 a long day— leave me alone.” I waved my hands as I made a horrible decision and stepped between Voln and the oncoming werewolf. “Why do both the Bears and the Owls want the kid?”

  Voln’s eyes had narrowed to slits. “I don�
�t know why they want him. Bob, the founder of the Bear caste was the one asking for the box’s contents. He doesn’t usually explain himself.” He held his hands out palms up. “I’m sure the Owls are just trying to get back in his good graces after their founder fell.” He tossed a glance at me as he spoke. Yeah, I’d thrown the Owl’s founder out of an office building window, so sue me.

  “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 fear 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 if I kept looking at him, I might just break down, and I was in no mood to feel responsible. Well, more responsible.

  Voln started to say something, but Gib held up his hand, silencing the old vamp. “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 Bob, the Bear founder. 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 that uncommon, but when he continued killing vampires… well, that was really rare and 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 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. “Has Warthor done something?”

  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 life. Lots of people have been reincarnated… some several times.

  Even the great heroes of old, like the first Dragon Knight, could get reincarnated after a long enough time frame. I wasn’t sure if it was the case, but it was at possible Gib’s son was actually the reincarnated Dragon Knight of old.

  If he was Dar Silver-tongue reborn, sacrificing him might just give the new drake enough power to challenge Warthor. Was that why the vampires had wanted him? So they could turn him over to that new dragon? Wow, I really hoped not. If that was going on, we were all going to be in a boat load of trouble. I’d just have to hope that the vampires weren’t actually in league with the dragon, and admittedly, I felt a little naïve 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 her a favor.” He gestured at me with one thin hand. “Perhaps he will speak to you.” He sighed and took a deep breath. “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 the guy from taking out Trius. If I didn’t start tying up some of these loose ends soon, the more likely we were to enter into world-ending-apocalypse territory.

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

  “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 thanks to my intervention with their founder, Logan was now their leader. Something told me accusing him of kidnapping wasn’t going to end well.

  8

  The stench of old blood and rotting meat inside the House of Owl was so strong, I could practically feel it clinging to my skin. I rubbed my arms, wishing I had a hot shower handy. As I stared at the expanse of expensive, imported marble and priceless artwork, I sort of wished I could collect wealth for an eternity. If I did, I could certainly spend it better than these dreary old vampires.

  There was always something sort of self-indulgent about the moderately aged vampires. They’d lived long enough to accumulate almost everything they’d ever wanted, but weren’t so old that possessions had lost all meaning.

  Still, as nice as the scenery was, after sitting here dealing with the stench by myself for the last three hours, I was nearly ready to go back outside and tell Gib we’d do things his way. I’d persuaded him to let me go inside and handle things my way, and after a lot of pleading and cajoling, he’d reluctantly agreed, mostly because the guards wouldn’t let him in. I’d barely been able to talk him about killing people until someone talked.

  Since then, I’d gotten exactly nowhere, and the receptionist was being none too helpful in summoning Logan. I had known Voln didn’t have much pull with the other vampires, so I had expected to wait, but this was growing unbearable, especially considering I’d basically put Logan in charge of the Owls when I’d helped take down his founder a year ago.

  As I paced the foyer, I kind of wished Gib was with me. While vampires always creeped me out, waiting 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 did carry some weight since Danae was Logan’s second in command.

  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 the rest of her sinful gait seemed to betray with every step.

  It made me wish I could look like that just once, even if there was no one in particular I wanted to look that way for. To top it off, thin strips of red satin clung to her in such a way as to make me more tha
n a little envious.

  There are different kinds of vampires within castes like the Owls and the Bears. 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, 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.

  “Danae, thank you for seeing me today.” I bowed my head toward her and made a sweeping gesture with my arms.

  “Quaint, Lillim.” Her tongue darted out to lick her ruby-red lips as she spoke, her porcelain teeth flashing for moment. “I’m delighted to see you, too.” She had moved close to me, her breath hot on my neck. Vampires didn’t need to breathe, so it had to be just for effect.

  “You should just stop trying to charm me.” I was annoyed. “I don’t swing that way at all, and I don’t appreciate you trying to seduce me.”

  “Pish.” Her hand waggled outward and took mine. A rush of heat swept through me, and I staggered backward, my knees suddenly weak. She led me from the room, all swishing hips and long legs. I blushed as I followed her wordlessly, visions of uncomfortable things dancing in my head.

  “So what did you need to see Logan about?” We entered her bedroom, and my heart was beating so hard, I thought it would burst through my chest. I wasn’t sure what we were going to do in here, but part of me really hoped it wasn’t what was dancing through my mind. I didn’t swing that way, but at the moment, I also didn’t care very much.

  A gigantic four-poster bed made from sleek black wood and accented with soft lavender pillows stood in the center of the room. The wool-silk carpet shimmered under the candlelight cast from several sconces placed around the room to provide just enough light to make it feel comfortable. Paintings that were little more than splashes of sun-kissed reds and apricots hung on the pale rose-colored walls.