Kill It With Magic: The Lillim Callina Chronicles, #1

By J. A. Cipriano

Sixteen-year-old Lillim Callina is good at two things: running away and magic.

Now, Lillim's half-demon ex-boyfriend is contacting her for help, she has somehow gotten herself mixed up in a kidnapping, and her long-dead rival has risen from the grave.

So when a dragon plotting to take over the world offers her a choice- work for him or else-

Lillim Callina is going to choose else.

• Language: English
• Publisher: DDCO Publishing, LLC.
• Release date: Mar 21, 2015
• ISBN: 9781507049099

Book preview

1

What kind of tip do you give someone you’ve just blown up? That’s the thought that ran through my mind as I frantically rummaged through my pockets for something, anything to give the delivery boy I’d just blasted into the brick wall outside my tiny apartment.

It wasn’t my fault, I swear. It’s not like my day planner reads: brush teeth, shower, get dressed, blow up delivery boys. No, if anyone was at fault, it was him. Call me crazy, but when something that looks and smells like a rotting corpse lumbers out of the bushes beside my apartment, I attack. No zombie was getting my brains, that’s for sure.

It had reached toward me with one translucent hand, splattering bits of gelatinous goo that smelled like rotten eggs and bad breath. Those are not the normal actions of delivery personnel. Besides, I’ve never seen a UPS guy with an enormous, milky eye in the center of his chest before.

So what had I done? I’d taken a deep breath, forced my heart to stop trying to beat its way out of my chest, and made up a new rule of thumb. When in doubt, poke the thing in the eye. As it had opened its mouth to groan at me, I’d jabbed it in the chest-eye with my finger while calling upon my magic.

Boom, I’d whispered, unleashing a surge of power at point blank range into the creature.

Now, to be fair, saying a word like boom while hitting someone doesn’t have much effect unless you’re in one of those old Adam West Batman shows, especially when it comes from a five-foot-nothing teenage girl wearing a gray cardigan over a white button up and a knee-length black skirt. Unfortunately for Mr. Tall, Green, and Disgusting, I’m Lillim Callina, and I know magic.

Yeah, that’s right, I said magic. Some people might call it different things, but I’m a simple girl. So I’ll stick to the M-word even if it gets me horrified glances from old people feeding pigeons in the park.

So what had happened when I hit the zombie in the chest and muttered boom? An arc of electricity had exploded from my fingertip.

Time seemed to stop for a moment as the delivery boy turned his head to regard me curiously, as though he couldn’t figure out what I was doing. I suppose, in retrospect, he had a right to be confused as he was flung backward into the brick wall outside my apartment building with a horrifyingly wet squelch.

And if you think that’s bad, you should see my next trick, I’d muttered as the backlash of the spell whipped around me, threatening to make me pass out. Like always, firing magical energy off willy nilly had felt like an elf had hacked into my brain with an axe. I ignored it like I always did. I could deal with the aftermath of using my magic later.

The smell of its burned flesh, like over-cooked fish, filled my nose and stung my eyes. Thick curls of steam rose from the creature’s body as it hoisted itself onto its feet, anger evident in its milky chest-eye, and spoke the words that changed everything.

Lillim Callina! I was told to bring you a message, and this is how you treat me? The creature’s grating speech rubbed on my nerves, so much so, it took me nearly a full ten seconds before I realized what it had actually said. It was supposed to be an easy job, he added with an annoyed mutter.

That’s when I noticed the small package and a messy clipboard with a big sticker that said sign here on the ground next to me. I stared at the objects for a long time as various scenarios ran through my mind. While it wasn’t common to dispatch monsters to deliver messages in my neck of the woods, it was uncommon enough, especially given his hideous appearance, to throw me off. Particularly since I’d been keeping my head down and ignoring supernatural whoziwhatsits for a while now. No, given my circumstances, this was the worst possible way to contact me. So who had done it?

Sorry. I knew I was turning several shades of crimson because I could feel my cheeks burning. I wasn’t expecting a delivery zombie to leap out of my bushes.

I sighed, wondered once more what kind of tip you give someone you’ve just blown up, and decided the bits of lint lining my pockets weren’t going to do the job. Maybe he’d be satisfied with a friendly smile and a handshake? Only there was no way I was going to touch him. I guess he’d have to be satisfied with a smile.

He glared at me with his weird chest-eye as I picked up the clipboard and signed on the line. This wasn’t going to be my day. I mean it was what, eight in the morning and I’d already accosted an innocent, albeit disgusting, monster. Whatever came next was undoubtedly going to be worse. Man, I knew I should have just stayed in bed, but no, I’d had to return my library book before the library opened so I could avoid the late fee. At this rate, I was starting to think I should have just paid the damned late fee.

This is the last time I deliver anything for Joshua Landers! The slime-covered delivery creature snatched the form from my hand and vanished into nothingness. I was still feeling guilty as I stared forlornly at my goo-covered porch when I realized what the thing had said.

Joshua Landers. He’d said Joshua Landers. That meant, both obviously and unfortunately, my ex-boyfriend had found me. Somehow, someway, he had tracked me to this apartment in Southern California. I tried to gulp, but my mouth had gone dry. This was not good. Not good at all. A tremor ran through me as I turned toward my front door and hastily unlocked it.

I’d known this day was coming since I’d run away a year ago. I had known, deep down, that no matter how far I ran, my people would find me… but I’d had to try. You always have to try, right?

I slammed the door behind me and bolted all six of the locks in quick succession. I fought the urge to slump to the ground in defeat and tried to ignore my growling stomach as I glanced around my sparsely furnished studio apartment. Beneath my tattered, threadbare desk chair, my heart-patterned blanket lay bunched up into a ball. The far wall was largely obscured by a patchy yellow and white dresser. The top drawer was so stained and misshapen, it looked almost black.

Heaped upon the dresser itself was a pile of clothing that hadn’t quite found its way inside. A doll lay lopsided against the nest of clothing as though sunning itself beneath the bright pink lamp that stood mere inches away.

Sure it was tiny, but I’d liked to refer to it as cozy. Either way, it had worked as a great hiding place until now, even if I never picked up the books that lay strewn about the floor.

My stomach rumbled so loudly, I was sure the neighbors could hear it. I didn’t eat much, but when I did, it was usually because I was nervous. Still, I tried to tell myself blasting the zombie made me hungry. That was it… just the spell. My sudden need to chew the wallpaper off the walls had nothing to do with Joshua.

My pint-sized hedgehog, Georgie, stared at me as I walked over to the desk wedged between the front door and my messy futon. I set Joshua’s package down next to his cage and backed away from it like it was a ticking time bomb. I mean, it probably wouldn’t explode, but the chance of it having a dynamite-like effect on my cozy little life wasn’t exactly insubstantial.

No, this was definitely not going to be unicorns and rainbows. Damn, I ought to just run away right now. I could pack a bag and be gone in the next ten minutes. Hell, my get out of Dodge bag was already packed in case this happened, but as I looked around my crummy apartment, I realized I didn’t want to leave.

No, this was my home, and I wanted it to stay that way. It wasn’t the smart move, mind you, but well, it was the first place I could really call my own. If I wanted to keep it, I’d have to, at the very least, see what Joshua had sent me.

To be fair, I wasn’t sure this was necessarily a bad thing. It wasn’t like a hundred armed soldiers had shown up. If that’d happened, I’m not sure what I’d have done, probably been slightly less shocked than if Joshua himself had shown up in a three-piece suit with roses. Yeah, like that’d happen…

As I glanced out the blinds of the only window in my apartment to check for said soldiers, my breath started to come out in quick, ragged little bursts. Thankfully, I didn’t see anyone outside. Yet.

Maybe Joshua hadn’t told the others where I was? It was possible, even likely. Joshua had never been the most upfront guy when it came to, well, anything. If this gift was part of a plan to get back in my good graces, he’d know not telling my people where to find me would be step one. Maybe, just maybe, he was showing me he knew where I was and could be trusted? It seemed possible, but unlikely.

No, the more likely scenario was that this package was going to start a horrible chain-reaction that was going to bring me into a confrontation with everyone I’d hidden from for the last year. After all, if Joshua had found me, the others couldn’t be far behind.

Georgie yawned and ignored me as I turned back to the package and ripped it open. I started carefully enough, but after the seventieth or so piece of tape, I just called upon my magic and shredded the cardboard with my magically infused muscles. Don’t judge, it got the job done.

The object inside want not a bomb, but it might as well have been. It was as thick as my thumb and about as long. Even beneath its translucent cellophane wrapper, the silver candy sparkled with mischievous brilliance. A solid gold stamp in the center was emblazoned with the letters H. H. and I knew exactly what it was. This was a candy swizzle.

Candy swizzles were one of the most addictive substances on the planet. They were like injecting concentrated yummy into your veins. That’s really saying something when all we’re talking about is my people’s version of a vending-machine candy, albeit, an enchanted vending-machine candy.

Unfortunately, the real reason those things were so addictive wasn’t because they happened to taste exactly like the thing you wanted most. It was because emotional messages could be sent through them. Imagine biting into pure love, and you get the idea. Joshua had sent me temptation in a candy-coated shell. Awesome.

Stop being such a baby and eat the damn thing already. The voice behind me spoke in a soft, almost melodious way that reminded me of the way you’d think fairy princesses would sound if you didn’t already know they sounded like a bunch of squawking bats.

Quiet, Matto, I said, turning to look at the ghost before swatting at him. My fingers passed through his insubstantial form, and as they did, my fingers went nearly numb from cold.

Touching ghosts was never really very fun because they always seemed to suck the heat right out of you. My heart was already beating just a little faster than normal as I wrung out my fingers in an effort to bring back some feeling.

I wouldn’t go so far as to say I’m scared of ghosts... really, I’m not. But I certainly didn’t like them. They were icky and see through and all-around spooky. I’d never, not in a million years, not even for all the gold in Fort Knox, have asked to have a ghost soulbound to me. I had not been given that choice. Like it or not, Hisen Mattoc was firmly anchored to my soul, and even though it wasn’t his fault, there were times I hated him for it.

Don’t even think about it, Lil’. Just put on your big girl pants and— Mattoc said before I cut him off.

There you go with that talking again. I glared at him in his black sunglasses, white T-shirt, and black leather pants and had the sudden urge to smack the smug look off his face. It wouldn’t work, but I sort of wished it would.

Joshua wouldn’t come to you, of all people, if it wasn’t important. Mattoc crossed his arms over his leather-clad chest and smiled. I know I wouldn’t.

The problem with what Mattoc said was he was right. Sure, I could lie and tell myself Joshua cared for me, that he’d have come to rescue me, but the truth was, he didn’t care about me that much. He said he did, but I knew the truth, and knowing that, made me scared. Joshua had come to me, and if he had, it was because he didn’t want my people to know about it. Damn. This was going to be bad.

"That’s what worries me. A guy who spews toxic gas from his wounds needs my help?" I turned away from my desk and moved into my cramped kitchenette. My stomach rumbled as I opened my fridge and found an empty pickle jar and a can of off-brand soda. Well, that wasn’t going to do.

Maybe he’s just mad because you started dyeing your hair again, Mattoc sneered, lowering his dark glasses to give me full view of his pale gray eyes.

Joshua hated when I dyed my hair. I had soft lavender hair so pale, it was nearly white. I’d taken to dyeing it black to cut down on the stares from random people. I had to do this pretty often because my magic would cause it to start to lighten after a couple days, and that was when I didn’t do any spells. After blasting that zombie, I’d no doubt be dyeing my hair again tomorrow.

Not likely, I said, walking back to my desk.

I grabbed the swizzle and, even though just touching it sent shivers marching down my spine like a parade of ice cold ants, shoved it in my mouth. Flashes of flavor kicked me in the teeth. That wasn’t even the scary thing. The real kicker was the images that came with them. They were so jumbled and frantic, they nearly drowned out the flavors. It was absolutely insane. Imagine biting into a lemon and being so distracted you didn’t even taste the lemon. It was like that… times a billion.

Pain exploded behind my eyes as all of Joshua’s anguish flooded into me. I reached out, blindly searching for something to grab onto as all his torment and sadness spilled into me, dragging me down into a sea of sorrow like a boat anchor. Without thinking, I spit the offending snack onto the floor where it shattered into a zillion goo-covered pieces.

I grabbed the corner of my desk in an effort to support my shaking knees while sucking in air as quickly as I could. My legs were trembling so badly, I was pretty sure I’d topple to the ground if I let go. Even though the worst of the experience had passed the moment I’d spit the swizzle out, Joshua’s pain clung to my skin like a grimy film.

To clarify, whatever that is… I want no part of it, I gasped, attempting to catch my breath.

Mattoc was by my side in an instant, one ghostly hand on my shoulder, the other moving as though he wanted to comfort me. I was looking right at him, and I could see his mouth moving, but I couldn’t make out the words. I shook my head and looked at the floor.

Something was wrong with Joshua. I didn’t know what was wrong. The candy hadn’t made that clear, but something clearly was not all puppies and roses in Joshua land. Still, since he’d come to me, I knew I was going to have to help him. Why? Because he had asked the girl who had blasted him point blank with a shotgun for help. No one does that unless it’s important. Trust me.

Knowing Joshua, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s known where you were hiding for a while now. If that’s true, whatever he wants is likely to be bad. Mattoc’s voice made me jump, and I briefly wondered how long I’d been tuning him out. I think you should sit this one out, or better yet, grab your bug-out bag and head to a cabin in the woods.

I looked up at him and was surprised to see concern in his eyes. Hadn’t he just been encouraging me to eat the doom candy?

So you think this is a bad idea, too? I asked, pleased I kept the fear out of my voice, which wasn’t that hard. I wasn’t scared of Joshua per se. No, I was scared of what he represented. Joshua, for all his intentions, was going to drag me back into a world of supernatural horror. I’d known this life in this borrowed apartment couldn’t last. I’d known since the day I’d fled my people and come to Earth.

Still, some naïve part of me had hoped maybe, just maybe, I could live out the rest of my life in this warded apartment without seeing my people ever again. That part of me had just died, and it hurt way more than I’d expected it would.

Lillim, you don’t know what’s going on in the supernatural world. You’ve been hiding for the last year, remember? Mattoc ran a hand through his short black hair and pushed it out of his face. You really need to think about it if you’re going to get involved. There’s still time to run.

I swallowed, shoving down the dread welling up like a geyser in my stomach. If you’re right— was all I managed to say before my front door exploded in a shower of wooden fragments and bits of metal. Supernatural beings can’t enter a person’s home without permission. Men with machine guns do not have this problem.

2

Idove for my desk, slamming hard onto the cheap carpet behind it. Pain shot through me as I curled myself into a tiny ball. Bullets tore into the wall above where I’d just been standing, surprisingly off target for men who had both machine guns and the drop on me. Had they missed on purpose? Actually, maybe I didn’t want to know.

As bits of plaster and drywall rained down on top of me, I swallowed and immediately changed my mind. I now hoped they had intended to miss because I seriously doubted my little fiberboard desk was going to be stopping bullets if they unleashed another volley of gunfire.

Part of me wanted to stop the bullets with magic or used my power to move faster than them, but I didn’t. It was taboo to use magic around normal people, even if they tended not to remember it, and the habit stuck with me. Yeah, it was silly, I know. Still, if they were actually going to try to kill me, who was going to punish me for using my powers? My mom? Ha.

Come out, Lillim, or I will light the building on fire and smoke you out like the treacherous rat you are. I didn’t like the voice. It had a throatiness to it that made me feel weak, powerless, and small. I shook my head and gritted my teeth. I didn’t like being ordered around, but at the same time, I definitely did not my apartment to go up in flames.

If I poke my head up, you’re going to start shooting again, I yelled back, fighting to sound more confident than I felt. I figured I was about fifty percent successful.

I’d rather talk. That is why I have come here. To talk. The words were articulated slowly, like the speaker was used to dealing with people who weren’t the sharpest crayons in the box.

You know, you could have just made an appointment. They were shooting at me and I was making jokes? That probably wasn’t one of my best decisions.

I wanted to make sure I had your full attention. Besides, I can tell from your wards, no outsider will be able to see or hear anything that happens within this area. It will always look peaceful and serene. Was there a hint of satisfaction in his voice?

He was right after all. The place was warded to make it appear normal to everyday people. No one would have heard the gunshots and called 911, that’s for sure. I shook my head and sighed. I was over being surprised by creatures with intentions that did not match their actions.

I’m all yours. I slowly raised my head above the desk. Behind me, I heard Georgie scurrying about in his cage. They couldn’t see it, but my right hand was on the trigger of the shotgun under my desk.

Thanks to the guy who had lent me the place, guns were hidden throughout my apartment. After he had walked out on me, leaving the keys on the table beside a note, I’d decided to stay. After all, it wasn’t like I had anywhere else to go. It wasn’t long after that I found guns hidden in every nook and cranny of the place.

Five men stood just beyond my desk. Sunlight streamed in through the remnants of my broken door making them seem to glow, despite the natural gloom of my apartment. Four of the men were dressed in suits that cost more money than I’d ever seen. Seeing their weapons sent a tremor ricocheting up and down my spine. They had that big, ugly look of something that held a lot of firepower.

The fifth man stood in front with a briefcase in his hands. The cut of his suit was so fine it made the others look like they shopped at thrift stores. Dark glasses hid his eyes, but I could make out a tattoo of a Chinese dragon coiling around his bald head. His skin was so dark, it had that bluish tint you find in really pure obsidian.

Still, I could tell he wasn’t quite as human as the rest of the goons. So how had he gotten inside? He would have to be really powerful to just walk into my apartment when my wards should have kept him outside. That was probably not good.

I’ve heard you’re good at tracking down and killing mystical things, the man with the briefcase said.

This was true. I was pretty good at dealing with supernatural baddies thanks to my crazy-ass mom. No one else would have taught me to swim by throwing me into a lake filled with sea monsters. I was four at the time, and our relationship has been pretty much downhill from there.

I glanced at the man