Pursuit: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Lillim Callina Chronicles Book 4) (19 page)

His eyes jerked open as he stumbled backward, blood pouring from his neck. My hand slipped off the hilt of the Becker BK7, I’d pulled from his belt and jammed into his throat. I fell to my knees as blood gushed from the wound, showering me in sticky red slime.

“I’m sorry,” I said, dropping to the dirt as he fell to his knees, clutching at his neck with hands that, somehow, didn’t work right. I reached out, grabbing the royal medallion from around his throat and tugged it free. A surge of energy swept through me, and I don’t know how to explain it exactly, but I
felt
Masataka’s life slipping away as his eyes searched my face.

He fell sideways, smacking into the ground like a sack of wet flour. His eyes drifted closed as his hand slipped from the blade’s handle.

“I wonder,” Masataka’s thoughts burst into my mind like a firecracker exploding. “Will I be remembered? Will I be forgotten? Will I be ignored? Will I fade away quietly into the darkness? Will it all turn out okay? Will…”

“Masataka? Can you hear me?” I asked, the medallion thrumming in my hand.

“Dirge? Is that you?” his thoughts were weaker, just barely a wisp as I reached out and took his hands in mine. The feel of blood, warm and slick on his hands made my stomach churn as I crawled closer to him.

“Shh,” I whispered. “It’s going to be okay.”

“You were always lovely,” he thought, and his body convulsed. “Always so lovely.”

“Don’t… don’t, Masataka…” I said, pulling him up on my knees. “Think happy thoughts.”

“Dirge?” he thought, and the medallion in my free hand pulsed, like the breath of a dying star. “Dirge… I… I’m…” His breath shuddered out in a sort of strangled gurgle. I swallowed, shutting my eyes as tears spilled from my eyes.

In front of me, the circle shattered, exploding into wisps of green light. They flitted back and forth against the stormy horizon before dying away like an empty firework. The medallion throbbed once in my hand, like a shuddering heart, as the last of the light left it. It slipped from my fingers and hit the dirt with an empty thunk.

I could see my father in the distance, form hunched over my mother. The ground around them was littered with the bodies of Dioscuri, but baring that, something was wrong. My mother… wasn’t moving. Her flesh wasn’t knitting itself together. Even from here, she looked dead. I glanced back at Masataka, his lifeless body still leaking out onto the sand and shook my head as a strange numbness settled over me.

“Lillim!” Caleb screamed, rushing toward me. His skin was charred and blackened, but it looked like he was already started to heal. His eyes held that familiar obscene blue edge… so he and the Prince had made up?

He gathered me up in his arms, yanking me from Masataka’s lifeless body and holding me close. I’d like to say I felt him, felt his warmth, his strength… anything. But I didn’t. I felt nothing… I felt empty and cold and… alone.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered into his chest. “I’m so sorry…”

“Lillim, it’s okay,” he said, running one hand through my hair and smoothing it away from my face. “Everything is going to be okay.”

“No…” I said, pushing away from him. I took a hesitant step past him, my body shifting unsteadily from the effort. He grabbed me from behind, arms wrapping around me and holding me upright. But it was too late.

“Mommy,” I whispered, pushing free of Caleb and taking another step forward. “Mommy are you okay?”

“Lillim,” Caleb said, but his voice was softer… too soft for it to be good.

My father turned his head toward me, tears running down his cheeks. “Lillim,” he said… well, I think that’s what he said because I didn’t hear him. I just saw his mouth move. There was no sound, not really. There was a strange ringing in my ears as I staggered forward. A sharp, high-pitched whine buzzed in the air as my knees hit the dirt a few steps later.

I crawled forward, unable to move my body fast enough. My mother seemed so far away… so very far away. I was about to glance back at Caleb, about to scream at him to help me, but just then the massive form of Quetzalcoatl descended from the sky. He hit the ground like a meteor, throwing up a ring of black sand. He stood there as a man, blue eyes shining, his golden beard split by a frown as he knelt next to my father.

“Diana,” he said, and it was rolling thunder, crashing rain, howling wind. “My sweet Diana.” The god leaned down, taking my mother from my father, brushing him away like an annoying gnat.

“How could this happen to you, my Diana?” Quetzalcoatl cried, pulling my mother’s body against his. Her head lolled emptily to the side as the god stood, glaring round at all of us. “She was the best of you,” he snapped, and my heart shattered.

Lightning exploded in the sky, smacking into the ground in a thunderclap that threw me backward. I hit the sand, the breath exploding out of me as stars danced across my eyes, little spots of pink and red that blurred together. I shook my head to clear the spots and rolled back toward the source of the explosion.

Blackened, scorched earth surrounded a glassy crater about two meters across. In the center was a crystalline statue of my mother with her hands on her hips, lips curled in a half-smile. Lightning flashed in the sky, and the light glinted off the glass, throwing a hundred colors across the killing fields.

Chapter 17

“So it’s over then?” I asked my father, Sabastin Callina. We were standing on the bridge that led from Lot to Earth. It was at this spot that my father had stood so many years ago and defended the Dioscuri city, by himself, for three days. It was the place where he had earned his scars.

“Yes, it’s over,” he said. His voice was haggard and half-empty as he stared back toward Lot. “The Dioscuri are no more.”

“Okay,” I replied, tightening my grip on his hand. “And you’re sure you’re ready to leave?”

“Yes,” he said. The word was final. I’d heard that tone before. It was his ‘end of discussion’ tone and he rarely used it, especially with me. Which was partially because my father was mostly a big softy… at least when it came to me. It was always my mother who was the hard-ass.

“We’ll have to get a bigger place,” I said, and he turned to look at me.

“Why is that?” he asked. “Is there not room in your apartment?”

“Well… firstly, I’m not sure if my apartment has actually been rebuilt yet. I haven’t exactly made it home to check on it. Aside from that, there’s still the little matter of rent… which I’m pretty sure I haven’t paid in a few months. Anyway… I doubt my place is actually viable for the two of us to live.” I was about to say more, to keep rambling on and on like a crazy person when my father turned and looked at me. His face was etched in confusion as he studied me with his intelligent eyes.

“I have no idea what you are talking about, my daughter,” he said. “I don’t know what ‘rent’ is or even what an apartment is. I just heard you say that’s where you lived.” He glanced away from me, and while I knew he was embarrassed, he was doing a good job of hiding it.

I reached out and took his hand and squeezed it. “I know, Dad. I’ll teach you everything you need to know about living on Earth.” I paused, smiling at him. “Unless you want to stay here and try to rebuild? I could stay and help.”

“No,” he said, his voice so sad that it made me want to hug him and tell him it would be okay. “Mitsoumi wanted us to go out into the world. He believed we spent too much time here. He knew we were a powder keg just waiting to explode…” My father swallowed and shook his head. “If only we’d had a little more time.”

“I know, Dad,” I said, wrapping my arms around him and pressing my face against his chest. The smell of his aftershave, like pine meadows, filled my nose. “But it’s not your fault.”

“I should be the one saying that,” my father replied, putting his arms around me and pulling me close. Then, without warning, he swept me up into the air, holding me like a giant toddler. I windmilled my arms for a second, nearly losing my balance.

“Dad! What are you doing?” I squawked.

“Holding you. I never had enough time to hold you like this, my daughter. I know they say children grow up too fast, but you… well, you really did.” My father took a step forward, and I had to lean forward and wrap my arms around his neck to keep from falling.

I felt heat spreading across my face as he carried me down the pass, toward Earth. From here I could still see the pillars of the Central Library, still half-burned from the fight with the orcs.

As the last remaining council member, my father had been the highest ranking person in Lot after the deaths of both my mother and Masataka Mawara. Thanks to Masataka’s killing spree, there
were
no more royals, no more nobility, just a couple hundred worker bees with no clear leader and no clear goal.

There had been a moment when my father stood in front of them, eyes still wet with tears. I thought he would seize control, would lead the Dioscuri forward. He… didn’t do that.

Instead, he ordered everyone outside and shut the gates, locking away the city of Lot from the Dioscuri… then he swallowed the key. Like actually put it in his mouth and swallowed it. There was a huge protest then, people rushed toward my father to try and take the key, but let’s be real. What were they going to do to my father? Especially with me at his side?

I shut my eyes, replaying the scene in my mind. I could still see their faces, twisted in fear and rage. Not knowing what to do, or what my father had been planning.

“You’re free,” my father said, his words echoing across the crowd. “You’re free to go to Earth. Make lives for yourselves, find something to make you happy. Life is about more than fighting battles over and over. Life is about the people we are. Go make something of yourselves.”

“But what are we to do?” asked a woman, stepping forward from the crowd. She was dressed in a white dress smeared with black and crimson, like she’d been in some kind of fight. She was holding the hand of a five-year-old boy with blond hair and eyes so blue that it was like staring into the ocean.

“You are to be free. You are to make lives for yourselves,” my father replied, taking a step forward and kneeling beside the child. He put his hand on the boy’s cheek. “You are to make sure he doesn’t have to fight. That he doesn’t fear dark alleys because there’s a monster living there that we sent him to kill.”

“But how will we survive? We know nothing of the Earth,” someone else said. The voice was deep like a bass drum but fear edged through the false bravado of it. Others chimed in, repeating similar things.

“We’ll all go learn. We’ll learn what it’s like to be human. It’s something we’ve long forgotten, living up here in the clouds like gods, thinking we’re so self-important.” My father shook his head, turned, and grabbed hold of my hand. He was trembling, and the feel of it made me swallow. My father… was afraid.

“Don’t worry,” I said, glancing back over my shoulder at the crowd. “The Earth is great. They have all sorts of interesting things down there, like egg rolls and ice cream.”

I shook my head. That had happened only a few minutes ago and now we were walking down the pass toward Earth. I could see people in the distance, they were following us, and once the last of them left the city, the road would shut down. Only my father’s key could reopen the pass, and somehow, I doubted he would use it anytime soon.

One way or another, the world was going to have to live without the Dioscuri protecting it from high above because now, now we were going to be out there… really out there.

I glanced back at my father, Sabastin Callina. He was looking ahead, eyes pointed off in the distance as he strode away from the home he had known all his life. He was leading his people out, away from a lifetime of fighting, and for all I knew, it could be the worst decision he had ever made.

Thank you for reading
Pursuit.
 If you wouldn't mind, please leave a review. If you are curious what happens to Lillim next, you'll find out in 
Hardboiled
. As a special bonus, the first chapter is included on the next page.

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May Contain Spies
.

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Chapter 1

“Have you ever wanted to deep throat a shotgun? Because that is totally what is going to happen if you keep trying to talk, savvy?” I asked in my best pirate captain voice.

“Mmmph mmph!” replied the creature that looked like someone had spilled a pot of mushy pea soup on an octopus and rolled it in dirty laundry. Bright gobs of goo and thicker bits undulated as it tried to speak.

“Good. Because I’m sure it would be quite difficult to breathe through a mouthful of buckshot.” I grimaced at the creature as I pressed my shotgun against the hole in its face. I wasn’t doing it to be mean or because the thing smelled like rancid pork or even because it had a sock stuck to its ‘forehead.’ No, that would have been shallow of me.

The real reason my shotgun was damn near lodged down its throat was because every single time it opened its noise hole, it let out an earsplitting shriek that woke not only babies, but the dead as well. No, I’m not joking. This thing actually animated skeletons, corpses, stuffed cats, whatever really. That’s why I was trying to keep it from making so much as a whisper. Like a damned Pied Piper, its ‘song’ made the dead walk the earth.

This was also why I, the famed Lillim Callina, was up to my knees in graveyard mud at three o’ clock in the morning on a school night. Okay, maybe not famous, but I’ve slain dragons, fought mythical orcs, staked vampires, and even taken on a fairy princess. I’d like to think I was above stomping off into a graveyard in the middle of the night after a whoziwutsit. But, unfortunately, over the last couple weeks, corpses in the graveyard had unearthed themselves and been found in all sorts of weird, read creepy, positions. I mean, I wasn’t really sure why, or how, the dead would get it on exactly, but I wasn’t really willing to find out either. In any case, a graveyard is one of the places a skeleton is supposed to remain in its closet.