Kill It With Magic: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Lillim Callina Chronicles Book 1) (12 page)

When I opened the door to my room, Caleb was outside. “I figured you’d be leaving.” He glanced at his watch. “Took you a little longer than I expected. You’ve been here almost three whole days.”

Let me backtrack a bit so that I can properly explain nineteen-year-old Caleb Oznek. I think that the best way to explain the blond-haired giant is as follows. When I was fourteen, my mother brought me to what was left of the war torn Dioscuri Headquarters in Lot. The embattlements had been ransacked, and the barracks were little more than burned-out husks. As she led me through the debris, we happened upon the old training center. Much to my surprise it was teeming with people.

In the corner were a bunch of old punching bags that looked like they were held together by little more than duct tape and sweat. Across the room, several heavy stones sat mockingly on pedestals just begging you to try and lift them, if only because they knew you probably couldn’t.

When we entered, all eyes fell on my mother. Her glare swept over everyone like a winter storm. I watched in amazement as everyone backed away from her. I could tell, even then, that these people feared my mother. With stoic purpose she walked up to the weight rack leaning against the wall and grabbed hold of the rack with her left hand. Then she lifted the entire thing over her head. She yawned and patted her mouth absently with her right hand before dropping the rack to the ground.

The crash was deafening, like someone had dropped an entire orchestra. Metal clanged and shrieked as the rack bent awkwardly under stress it was never meant to take. Without even noticing, I had covered my ears and cowered away from it… and I wasn’t the only one. With the din still ringing in my ears, my mother, the infamous Diana Cortez, turned toward the crowd.

“You can use your magic to do incredible things, but instead of focusing on training up that aspect of yourselves, you are in here destroying your bodies. And to achieve what? If I focused enough of my will into it I could probably lift the entire building. Do you really think your physical strength matters that much?” Her eyes blazed like the sun and her voice was like the desert heat. It seemed to tear the life and will from you until you had no choice but to submit.

The room fell eerily silent. A single sound, a sharp inhalation of breath that would have otherwise been missed, seemed to fill the training center. It continued, growing louder and louder. Very slowly I turned to see Hyas Tyee Caleb Oznek holding what looked like a giant log with a handle carved into one end. He stood there swinging that log over and over with such speed that it was hard to imagine he could do it for long. As the seconds turned to minutes his rhythm never slowed until he stopped all at once and dropped the log. It hit the ground with the heavy thud and rolled toward me. I nudged it with my foot. It didn’t move. Not even a little.

Caleb walked over to the squat rack and placed an almost ridiculous amount of weight on it. As people gathered around him, he got under the bar and hefted the entire thing onto his shoulders. The bar bent obscenely under what had to have been almost twice what my mother had lifted earlier. He dropped down, his form impeccable, and raised it up, once, twice, three times.

My mother was growing angrier by the second. Her entire body trembled in rage. He spoke as she took a step toward him. “Not all of us are so fortunate that the weapon we wield is as light as a whip. If I had to face down an enemy much stronger than me, I know that even if my magic no longer worked, I could still heft my broadsword. I could still run for miles, and I could still throw one hell of a punch. Can you say the same, my lady?”

Caleb cleared his throat, shattering the memory. He had blocked my way with his massive body. He was wearing a navy blue tank top that stretched across his muscles in such a way that I had to resist very hard to not reach out and run my hands across his chest. He crossed his arms and the hem of his shirt drifted up just enough that it made me wonder what the flesh beneath it would look like.

I couldn’t be mad at him, could I? Caleb had come to rescue me even though he had been injured in the very same battle that had claimed Dirge’s life. He had been poisoned fighting a ravenous, snake-like creature that had called itself Jormungand. After that, it was said he only had about nine years to live before the poison did him in.

In the end, his condition had been one of the deciding factors in my decision to leave the Dioscuri. Things were hard enough without watching this beautiful, vibrant man fade away month after month. I couldn’t stand the idea of watching him turn into a shell of his former self. That was just too much to ask of me. Rather than feel the stab of regret and sorrow every time I saw him, I chose to leave.

“I have a dragon to stop. I can’t stop it by sitting in bed. Besides, I don’t belong here.” I pointed out the window toward a large crater. It stretched so far into the distance that I couldn’t see the other side. “That is Dirge’s legacy, not mine. Yet, in this place, I will share that legacy forever.”

Normally, when people are reborn, no one knows who they are when they come back, just like how no one remembers their past lives. Yet thanks to Warthor’s meddling, everyone knew who I was. I was the infamous Dirge Meilan, reborn and in the flesh. My last act in that life had been to explode in the middle of town.

It didn’t matter that I’d sacrificed my life to obliterate an army of demons led by one of our former allies. To most people, it just mattered that I’d destroyed their homes and their friends in the process… which was pretty much true.

“So?” Caleb moved, and pain flashed behind his eyes, raw physical pain that marred his beautiful face. He shifted his weight against the doorframe. I glared at him, but he silenced me with a single hand. “You never failed, Lillim. That’s your problem. You’re always thinking you have to do everything yourself. You only had to do your part. No more could have been asked of you.”

“Even so,” I began, but before I could say more Caleb curled his fist in anger. The room around us shuddered under the black cloud of hostility that exploded from him. I’d never seen him angry before. I’d heard that when he was, it was the scariest thing in the world. I was now inclined to agree.

“Whelp!” The thunderous voice of Caleb Oznek rang in my ears. I took a step backward as his dark eyes burned into me with emotion I had never seen before. “I am sick of your angst. Always griping about how people treat you because of what Dirge did. Get over it. Grow up. Stop using her name as an excuse every time someone looks at you sideways.”

“You… you just don’t understand. Even my own mother cannot always separate herself from my past.” I put a hand on his chest and the feel of him made my knees go a little weak. “It’s foolish to think that I could stay here with you—” I stopped short, heat spreading across my cheeks. My words had come out quicker than I’d meant them to. Damn.

Caleb grunted and leaned forward until we were eye to eye. “Listen up. I am going to say this one more time. You dragged me down there to save you. I
had
to save you. It’s who I am. You are the one who got so mixed up in supernatural politics that you couldn’t swim to the surface even if you knew which way was up. You left while the rest of us struggled to unravel the tangled web of horror you ran away from. So let me be crystal clear with you, Lillim Callina. No one is asking you to do anything more than we ourselves are already doing.”

“No. You look here,
Caleb
,” I spat his name though I hadn’t meant to. I guess I hadn’t realized how angry I’d become. “Am I a bad person for refusing to play by stupid rules that have done nothing but get more of us killed?” My eyes narrowed as I stepped back from him. “No, I think not. We are the ones letting it get bad down there. Not the vamps, not the demons, and not renegade Dioscuri. It’s us. By refusing to change, to bend, to help, we are sealing our fate.”

“That is not true, Lillim.”

“If it’s not true, then where is everyone? I’ve been down there for a year watching normal people get eaten by monsters, and I have yet to see a single Dioscuri step in and stop it.”

His famous blade, Incinerator, was drawn in an instant, and he held it to my throat. I eyed him carefully as he eyed the shotgun now in my hand.

“You’re fast, Caleb; that I won’t argue. Of all the Dioscuri, it is rumored that your skill with a blade is the best, the fastest.” I waggled the gun emphatically. “How quick do you think you are against a shotgun, though? Do you think you could kill me before I pulled the trigger? Then think about how I don’t even need to be accurate with a shotgun at this range. I just have to get close. Finally, remember who the fastest Dioscuri is. I’ll give you a hint. It was me.”

“I didn’t come here to fight with you. I just came to tell you that if you are going to leave, I’m coming with you.” He lowered his blade and smiled, but it never quite reached his eyes. “Because you probably don’t even know that the drake from earlier was Valen. What does he want from you, Lillim? Was he trying to take you away to his castle? I heard drakes do things like that.”

“He’s Valen?” I squawked as my head spun. It couldn’t be Valen… “I don’t believe you.”

“Yeah, because I care that you don’t believe me,” Caleb said, holding his hand up as if to count on his fingers. “One-eyed, has an affinity for vampires, was positively identified by HQ.”

The pain behind my eyes reached a raging crescendo as I swallowed and tried to take another deep breath. Valen was known, in some circles, as the blood drake. He was rumored to give his followers immense power over blood. The Owls were already known for their blood magic… if they allied with Valen their power would go from asteroid-sized to planet-sized in a hurry.

“I can’t take you with me. You’re hurt, and I have a dragon to slay. I can’t be looking after an invalid.”

“Funny.” His eyes glinted as he pulled on a pair of dark glasses. “I don’t recall asking for your permission.”

Chapter 17

My face was pressed against the car window. The city outside was lit up like a Christmas tree. I wasn’t quite sure what city we were in, but we’d arrived here only a few minutes ago. Caleb claimed to “know a guy” who knew the location of Logan’s base of operations.

I took a bite of my cinnamon roll and shivered. Of course this journey full of vampires, werewolves, and dragons would lead me to dealing with the Dioscuri again. This meant I had to follow the lead of a superior, like Caleb, if he was convinced he ought to thrust his company upon me.

“We’re here!” Caleb pointed out the window to a lot filled with such bright lights that I could just barely make out a dilapidated building. Rusty bars covered the windows, but I wasn’t actually sure there was glass in the windows. I suspected they had been broken some time ago and never replaced. A torn green awning covered the front of the building, shielding the entrance from the weather only slightly better than nothing. Entire patches of plaster had broken off the walls revealing twisted rebar in several places.

Without waiting for a response, Caleb swung the car around and parked. I smiled at the fact that a nearby parking space could be found so readily. Back where I lived there was tons of traffic. Though, I couldn’t imagine why anyone would actually want to visit this dump.

“What is this place?” I asked, looking at the brightly lit monstrosity as we exited the car and made our way toward the entrance.

“It’s sort of a mystic pool hall. The guy who runs it is supposed to be psychic. Rumor is he can tell you exactly what it is you’re looking for… if you can beat him,” Caleb said in the whimsical way that he did when he was excited or avoiding the conversation.

“Okay…” I formed the word slowly.

Caleb didn’t give me a chance to say more before pushing us inside, completely ignoring the two rather burly bouncers at the door. I was a little surprised I hadn’t been checked for ID. Did I look like I was over twenty-one? I looked down at my jeans and black tank top and unconsciously tucked my lavender hair behind my ear. It had lightened since I’d been in the hospital, and I hadn’t had time to dye it. Of course, one of the few times I decided to wear jeans instead of a skirt, I was dragged into a bar.

“You look fine,” Caleb said, glancing at me once we were inside. “Places like this tend not to ID girls, anyway.”

I smoothed my hands over my clothes once more. “I’m not sure why you would think that makes me feel better.”

The bar itself was bright with shades of neon green and pink mixed with a subtler mango. Off to the left were several pool tables with various types of creepy looking monsters moving around them.

Caleb hadn’t wasted any time. He was already in the center of the room, arguing with a winged demon. Apparently, I was to be left to my own devices.

“What do you want, Dioscuri?” The demon poked Caleb in the chest with its pool stick.

“I’m here to play for information, Max,” Caleb replied as he sipped his drink. I hadn’t even seen him get one and he wasn’t twenty-one either. Did the bar not ID either?

“And what is it you could possibly offer in trade? You’re broken.” Max snorted and clapped Caleb on the shoulder.

A scowl flickered across Caleb’s face so fast that I almost didn’t catch it. He hid it behind a wide grin that showed off his perfect teeth as he turned and pointed at me. “Her.”

“What the hell?” I stammered, dumbfounded as I watched one of the Hyas Tyees of the feared Dioscuri use me as collateral for a bet… with a demon! Whatever this was, it had better be damn well worth it. Being a slave to a demon in a pool hall was not high on my bucket list.

The demon looked at me and its long, black forked-tongue snaked out of its mouth to lick its lips. It was suddenly very hot in the room, but I was glad I was wearing my ugly jeans.

“She’ll do.”

“I think I need a drink,” I murmured to myself, turning toward the bartender. He was a big, ape-like man, covered in piercings and tattoos. In fact, he looked more like a brightly-colored pincushion than a man. The knuckles on each of his hands even had letters tattooed on them. The left hand read “FOAD” while the right one read “BTTW.” The air shimmered around him, glimmering off his bald head. He was just the sort of guy my mother would have brought home before she had met my dad.