Cold rippled across my flesh like an icicle pressed to my skin on a hot day as I raised my free hand. Through my splayed fingers, I watched the vampire crack a smile though I wasn’t sure why.
The vampire took another step, cracking his knuckles as he did so. One meaty paw engulfed his other. The sound echoed down the hallway.
There was a nudging in me from the sword, an almost imperceptible pinprick from the weapon against my brain. A very tiny part of it was nudging me, begging me to release it, to let it fill the air with unyielding winter.
The vampire was only a couple steps away now. His stink, like old, decaying copper and dirty laundry, washed over me. I swallowed and shut my eyes, focusing on the giant ice blade. Its presence spread over the back of my mind like a spider-web, sticky and clingy and cold enough to shatter the flesh from my bones.
“Fine, sword. Fine. Have your way,” I murmured aloud.
There was a rustle of leathery wings in the back of my mind as something ancient and reptilian stirred from its long slumber. It had been asleep for so long it couldn’t waken, not yet. Giant eyelids tried to rise, tried to fling themselves open, but sleep held them back… for now.
My eyes snapped open and a blast of cold exploded out of my hand, ripping down the hallway and sheathing the stone in ice. The vampire tried to dodge, tried to throw himself out of the way, but lost his footing on the icy floor beneath his feet. It was like dousing him with liquid nitrogen. He froze in place, his arms stretched wide with one foot in the air like he’d just lost his balance.
My hand slipped off the hilt of Frost, and I dropped to my knees. I sucked in a breath and tried to ignore how I’d just allowed a legendary weapon to attack through me. Normally, I couldn’t have pulled off a spell like that. As I said earlier, when it comes to ice, I fail every time. Apparently, Frost had some crazy juju all on its own.
A horrific screech startled me, and I turned to see gargoyles rounding the corner. As a rule, I hated the damn things. I mean, can you think of an easy way to kill something made of rock? Without even thinking, my hand gripped Frost and lashed out with the legendary blade.
The blow flung the lead gargoyle backward into its companions. Ice spread across its rocky chest as it struggled and flailed, trying to scratch off the ice swarming over its body. That’s pretty much when it started to shatter. First small pieces then larger and larger chunks of it broke off and disintegrated into powder. Blood burst from it in a cloud, sending the others into a frenzy of shrieking. They converged on the injured one, tearing into its flesh like a pack of ravenous sharks.
I swallowed and stared down at my hand where it gripped Frost. I hadn’t even meant to attack, let alone with magic. It had been so reactionary, like the blade was part of me. As I stared down at the blade that had once felt so heavy, I realized it was weightless in my hand.
CRACK!
I swung around. The vampire had, somehow, shattered the upper half of his icy prison. He raised a hand toward me, and I took off running at full speed, racing past the pack of ravenous gargoyles.
Something struck me like a sack of wet concrete, sending me skidding across the floor. I rolled my body with it and wound up on my back with a snarling gargoyle on top of me. Breath like fetid meat on a summer’s day smacked me in the face. I struggled to keep my lunch down as its jaws latched down on my shoulder, shearing through my chainmail like it was made of tissue paper.
Agony shot through me, and for a second, my vision blurred. I cried out a combination of pain and frustration, and as I did, a tiny voice whispered in the back of my head. Like a cold breath in my ears, it asked to help, to allow it this one tiny thing, to simply allow it to feed.
My hand shot out, grabbing the gargoyle by the back of the head, and I flung it sideways in a flurry of snow and ice. It struck the wall like a wine glass, shattering into a million pieces. I stared at the spot for what felt like an eternity, unable to will myself into action. I took a deep breath and blew it out through my teeth. It came out in a small white cloud of ice and fog.
Snap!
I turned to see the battered and bloody vampire break free a support pillar and fling it at me. I sprang to my feet, and instead of running away, which would have been the smart thing to do, I charged.
Frost leapt out like a striking serpent as two gargoyles burst through the ground and seized both my legs. The tip of the blade stood mere inches from the vampire’s chest. He stumbled backward and fell on his butt, eyes wide with shock.
My face twisted into a devilish smile as I thrust Frost downward into the closest gargoyle, stabbing through its stony flesh and into the ground beneath it. A rush of energy filled me as Frost drank in its essence. As power surged up the blade, the distinct sound of fluttering reptilian eyes echoed in the back of my skull.
Normally, it is really freaking hard to steal something’s energy when it doesn’t want you to do it. Sure, redirecting the flow of energy into yourself isn’t that hard but stealing it? That was really, really hard.
Frost had taken it effortlessly and what was worse? I kind of liked it. The blade thrummed in my hand like a living thing, begging, pleading with me to feed it, to let the hungering winter devour, and I was seriously considering it.
Before I could acquiesce, the other gargoyle dropped downward, pulling me through the stone. I slammed my left hand into the rock, hoisting my upper torso above the cement as Frost came down on the spot where it had disappeared beneath the stone.
It was enough to make my grip on the rock slip, and the gargoyle yanked me into the stone along with it.
20
My mouth filled with water as I tried to suck in a breath. I gagged as the gargoyle who had dragged me through the castle’s floor and into the lake disappeared back into the foundation, leaving me in the water beneath the castle with no obvious way of escaping. Awesome.
I flailed, trying to pull myself through the solid rock while my lungs burned for air. Frost cooed in my ears, humming in an icy voice that was like pinpricks on the back of my brain.
“How do you suppose the Dioscuri put down an army of rebellious merfolk?” it murmured sleepily in a glacial voice. It was the first real sentence it had spoken into my brain. At least I thought it was. I wasn’t even sure. In any case, that was bad. That meant I was starting to become attuned to Frost himself. The last thing I wanted to do was wake up one of the most powerful dragons by drawing on the sword’s power too much.
Still, when you’re right, you’re right. The Dioscuri had put down an army of rebellious merfolk by inventing a pill that let you breathe underwater, and I had one.
My left hand dove into my pocket. I yanked out the small blue pill and jammed it into my mouth. It tasted like old socks, which probably had more to do with where it was kept than what it was supposed to taste like, but I swallowed it anyway.
In an instant, gills manifested on my cheeks. I shook my head as I took a deep breath, allowing the magic gills to filter breathable air from the water. The gill pill, as I called it, had saved the lives of innumerable Dioscuri from drowning and was now a standard issue piece of equipment. I took another deep breath and Frost contented itself to a low murmur of satisfaction.
After what felt like hours of swimming, I crawled onto the muddy shore and banished my cheek gills. This time, I made my way up to the main doorway. There was no way in hell I was going through another one of those gross side entrances. As I approached, something moved to my left and without thinking my hand went into my coat.
“Woah there.” Danae casually placed her finger against the barrel of my shotgun and pushed it away from her face. “You know a gun with a barrel that size is illegal.”
“Write me a ticket,” I muttered, not bothering to lower the weapon. Say what you will about guns. Sometimes they were the most effective things to use against supernatural creatures, and since most of them didn’t use them in return, it was an advantage I couldn’t afford not to take. Besides, they were pretty fun to use on jackasses who
never saw it coming. I just hoped my shotgun still worked after its little bath.
“Danae, I need to find Logan. Where is he?” My voice held the edge of harsh winter, cold and unforgiving.
She started to say something, and the air around her seemed to take a breath. Everything blurred, and I took a step back. “Erm…” I murmured, forcibly pushing away some very awkward thoughts about girl-on-girl-vampire-sexy-time.
She placed a hand against my shoulder, and some of my energy disappeared into the warmth of her touch. Her lips moved close to my ear, and my heart began to thud violently in my chest.
“Lillim,” she cooed, and I placed my free hand against the ground as I fell to my knees. “Wanna do me a favor?” Her voice was like silk. It slid over my body and down my back making me tremble.
“Yes!” The words left my lips before I realized what was happening. My mind was swimming in a soupy haze, and I struggled just to breathe of my own free will.
“Logan is upstairs.” Her voice floated through the haze and some more uncomfortable thoughts welled up in me. “You need to go to him and protect him from—”
Danae’s voice was cut off by a horrific scream, and as the last melodic tones of her words faded away, I felt myself come back to my surroundings like I’d just woken up from a dream. It made me realize she’d been trying to be-spell me, and after I saved her pitiful life before. Well, that was the last time I took a succubus at her word.
I would have yelled at her, but being that Danae was a mangled mishmash of flesh and bone at the feet of a werewolf, I decided karma had decided to take care of this one.
Her gut had been torn open, leaving her entrails splayed across the floor like grizzly modern art as one of her pale hands tried vainly to tuck them back inside. Blood pooled around her body, leaking out from so many wounds there was no way she could be saved. She reached out toward me with her other arm, fingers straining to touch me. If she did that I would help her.
More werewolves came bounding in, encircling me, all flexing claws and snapping jaws. Apparently, they didn’t care that I was here to rescue their prince. If I helped Danae, I was as good as dead. I reached back and ran my hand down the icy steel of Frost and let the cool breath of uncaring winter sweep over me.
“Please, Lillim, please…” She coughed and blood sprayed across the floor with her words. Admittedly, part of me wanted to help her, the part of me that remembered having conversations with her about books and dating. Still, that part of me was easily crushed by the cold logic of the situation. She had tried to bend me to her will with her magic. What was to stop her from trying again if I helped her? No, Danae was on her own.
As that thought rippled across my brain, Frost pleaded with me to drop my shotgun and release it from its sheath. To let it take not only this fallen vampire, but them all. To let it swallow them in a blizzard of unending, unyielding ice.
“No.” The word came out of my mouth in an explosion of white fog that made the werewolves back away from me.
I shook my head and stood, already pulling the trigger, thankful that both barrels on the gun fired. The spray of silver buckshot dropped the two werewolves standing in front of me. They howled as the silver sliced through their flesh as though they were made of little more than soft cheese. Like most everything I used, the shells in my guns contained a variety of different metals. The likelihood that a supernatural baddie was weak against something in them was very high.
“Goodbye,” I muttered and whirled around, slamming the shotgun directly into the next oversized dog’s temple. It went down in a hiss of steam as my left foot came crashing down upon another’s knee. The mix of silver and iron rings embedded in the heel of my boot tore through him like he was made of wet paper.
I ran past them and bounded up the stairs. Three followed me, and I didn’t want to think about what the ones who stayed behind were going to do to Danae. As I reloaded my gun, a gargoyle bounded down the steps in front of me. I raised the shotgun and fired. The blast caught it full in the face, and I wedged by the stunned creature and continued upward. A shriek of pain filled the stairwell behind me. Evidently it and the werewolves were not friends. Good.
As I reached the top step, a faint smell that reminded me of rotten eggs and sulfur made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I swallowed and almost came to a stop. That was the smell of a flame demon. If I could smell it still lingering on the air, Logan couldn’t be far. Now I just had to pray that the child was with him. Really, I didn’t care what happened to Logan, but I’d be damned if I let something else happen to the child. This time I was saving him no matter what.
One of those steel security doors latched in place with metal bars loomed in front of me and without pause, I kicked it. To my great dismay, it didn’t even budge and even worse, it hurt.
Before I could call my power and try again, a werewolf came at me from the stairs. I fired and almost clipped it before it leapt. I ducked, and the snarling creature slammed into the door with so much force, the steel deformed before snapping back into shape with a loud clang.
I whirled, put the gun to the beast’s chest, and fired. Silver shrapnel tore through its flesh, spraying me with blood and thicker bits before bouncing off the steel plate embedded in its chest.
Thanks to its body armor, the werewolf did little more than adjust its footing before its left claw raked through the air. I scrunched back, trying to deflect the blow as much as possible. The force of it slammed me into the guardrail with a sickening thud. I tried to ignore the white-hot pain that exploded in my shoulder blade as I struggled to pull in a breath. I fell to my knees, and for the life of me, couldn’t remember how to stand back up.
The werewolf snorted and took a step forward. Its large claws clicked lightly on the tile floor as it stepped toward me. I grabbed the empty shotgun and pointed it at the creature. It was time for plan B. Magic.
“We both know you emptied that weapon in the stairwell, so what, exactly, do you plan on doing with an empty gun? Throw it at me? Is this a cartoon? Have you used all your bullets and now must resort to throwing your gun at me in one last, desperate attempt?” The werewolf sat back on its haunches, watching me with humorless yellow eyes as its wounded chest healed.
I reached back and gripped Frost with my other hand while squeezing the trigger of the shotgun. An explosion of light and ice lit up the room as a ball of burning blue energy burst from the gun’s barrel. It didn’t impact the creature so much as it shattered him into a pile of frozen meat and hair. The gun was covered with a solid white coating of frost.
There was a soft pitter pat behind me, like a cat sneaking around on the furniture. I whirled and pointed my deformed shotgun at the stairwell. A werewolf stood there, unmoving. It held its paws out to me palms first and took a step back down the stairs.
This was good. I doubted the weapon would fire another bullet again, let alone another volley of magic, but the werewolf didn’t know that. Truthfully, I hadn’t been sure it was going to work the first time. I’d never actually tried to fire a spell through an object not expressly designed for that purpose.
“If you leave now, I won’t kill you,” I said, allowing the emotion to drain from my face. My voice held the harsh edge of a blizzard.
The werewolf stared at me, a mixture of anguish and fear in its eyes, as its tongue lolled listlessly in its snout. It changed, so quickly and completely, it took me a minute to realize that standing before me was a tiny girl. She couldn’t have been older than me, with soft golden hair and eyes like giant emeralds. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she tilted her head back and exposed her throat to me. It was the universal sign of surrender among werewolves.
“How did you do that?” Her voice strained like a kite in a thunderstorm.
“I wanted it really badly.” I tried to smile but it must have come out more like a scowl because she turned and scurried back down the stairs.
21
Silence descended around me, and I shook my head. I r
eally hoped the first werewolf I’d killed wasn’t that girl’s mother or father. Maybe a mean older boy? Yeah, surely the one I’d turned into a puddle of goo was the werewolf equivalent of a schoolyard bully. I wasn’t sure why, but thinking that made me feel better.
I approached the steel door and traced my hand along its surface. The metal was cool to the touch, but didn’t yield any interesting evidence. “Don’t suppose you’d just be unlocked?” I asked in a much more cheerful voice than I was aware I could muster.
More silence. I scowled and just as I was reaching to try the knob, a hand reached through the wall beside the door, grabbed me by the collar, and hauled me into the stone.
The next few things all hit me at once. It was very cold. There was someone holding me inside the floor with his hand over my mouth. I could see the entirety of the room behind the door.
It was an entirely different feeling from what had happened when the gargoyle had dragged me through the floor earlier. This was more like riding a scary rollercoaster. I was excited, exhilarated, completely aware of everything, and I really hoped I didn’t throw up.
“You need to stop using that weapon or my brother will awaken,” a voice breathed gently in my ear. “Do you understand? Speak very softly or they will hear you.”
I nodded as best I could, but didn’t say anything when he removed his hand from my mouth. In the center of the room, Bob paced back and forth. Not only had he lived, but the arm I had destroyed during the fight had already grown back albeit all mottled and grotesque, resembling a regrown lizard’s tail. He had to be really powerful to recover so quickly from getting the arm lopped off, and to make matters worse, there was no way he wouldn’t want to rain down vengeance upon me for disarming him.
The Lillim Callina Chronicles: Volumes 1-3 Page 14