Fatal Ties: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Lillim Callina Chronicles Book 7) Read online

  Fatal Ties

  The Lillim Callina Chronicles Book #7

  J. A. Cipriano

  Contents

  Copyright

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  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Afterword

  Copyright © 2016 by J. A. Cipriano

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  1

  Waking up to find my father standing over me with three days of stubble on his cheeks was almost as shocking as finding myself lying in a bed in the abandoned city of Lot because my father shaved every day. You could set a clock by it. Only he hadn’t shaved and by the way his eyes snapped to my face the moment I’d moved made it pretty obvious I was the cause. Damn.

  “Lillim!” My father, Sabastin Callina, cried as he rushed forward and gathered me into a tight hug that caused my bones to creak. “Thank the gods you’re okay.” He swallowed hard, tears rimming his eyes as he buried his face in my neck. He smelled like stale sweat and loneliness, which I hadn’t even known was a scent until that moment. Gone was his normal smell, like pine trees and springtime. It was sort of sad because I missed the smell of him. Wow, that was a weird thing to miss.

  “Dad, I’m glad to see you too,” I replied, unable to help the sudden rush of emotion brought on by his display. Truth be told, while I’d been locked away in the prison of my mind, I’d missed him. He’d always been my rock, my anchor, and to see him breaking down because of me, well, it broke something inside me too. Tears filled my eyes as I latched onto him and cried.

  “Don’t ever do that again,” he replied, hugging me tighter. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you and your mother.”

  A wave of guilt swept over me because, well, I’d wasted the last day or so hanging out in my prison of illusions so I could pretend my mom was still alive for one last day. It was sort of pathetic, I know, but trust me. Sometimes, even a fake reality is good enough, at least for a little while. Even still, that’d meant my dad had been sitting here waiting for me to wake up, and I hadn’t been prepared for the wave of guilt that crashed into me.

  “Sorry,” I replied, and I meant it. This wasn’t like the fake “uh huh’s,” “okay’s,” and “I’m sorry’s” I’d said over the years. I actually felt bad for putting him through it for that last day. Hell, I felt bad I’d let myself get tricked by the Nordic deity Jormungand and gotten myself locked away in my own mind.

  Normally, I was pretty good at beating the tar out of supernatural jackasses, but this guy had jumped into my brain and kicked the doors open. Getting him out had been one of the toughest things I’d ever done because the sweet nothings he’d whispered in my ears were everything I’d ever wished for. I’d wanted my mom to be alive and happy with every ounce of my being.

  “It’s okay.” My father shook his head as he pulled away and wiped his eyes with the back of one scarred hand. “Amy told me you would wake up, so I didn’t worry that much.”

  “Amy?” I asked, shaking my head in confusion. “Who the F is Amy, and how did she know I’d wake up? I barely survived.”

  He quirked his eyebrow at me. “Language, Lillim.”

  I blushed. “Sorry.” See, that was a fake apology.

  “Amy is one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse. War to be exact.” As he sat on the bed beside me and patted my thigh, he rolled his eyes at me as if he knew how ridiculous that statement sounded out loud. “She knew you’d wake up because Jormungand was dead.” He took a deep breath. “Said you had some things to work through first.” He sighed. “I just didn’t think it’d take you months to do it.”

  “Months?” I asked as a horrible feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. Surely, I hadn’t been trapped that long… “I was only in there a day after I punched Jormungand in the face.”

  “No, sweetie. Maybe it felt like a day, but it wasn’t.” Emotion swam across his face, and he looked away from me. “But it makes me feel better you only think it was a day.” He left the whole “It’s good to know you didn’t abandon me to sit here and wait for months on end” part of his statement unsaid, but I almost wished he had said it because at that moment, I almost wanted him to lash out. Then I could get mad at him and drown the sudden shame I felt under a wall of rage. Guess I wasn’t getting off that easily.

  “How could I have been gone for months?! What about Thes and Connor, and oh my god, what about Fenris? He was trying to break free and devour the sun and moon when I was unconscious!” I said, nearly leaping to my feet. The only thing that stopped me were the sheets tucked around my legs with hospital-like precision. My muscles had atrophied to the point where I couldn’t budge them, especially with the weight of my father pinning them to the bed. Oh man was that a bad sign.

  “Fenris is dead. Thes came back home. He and Connor are busy battling trying to keep Loki’s forces at bay while the Horsemen confront Loki and Bel.” My father looked at me in a way that suggested he wasn’t talking crazy, but that was impossible because it sounded abso-freaking-lutely crazy.

  “Wait, time out, flag on the play,” I replied, holding my hands out in front of me. “None of that makes any sense.”

  He rubbed his temples wearily with one hand. “I forgot. You’ve been unconscious since Ragnarok started.”

  “What do you mean Ragnarok started!” I cried and this time I managed to leap to my feet, atrophied muscles be damned. I tottered unsteadily on the cold steel floor before flopping onto my butt, which was pretty embarrassing since I only appeared to be wearing a very short hospital gown, and oh my god, had my father been changing me this whole time…?

  He stood and offered me his hand. I didn’t take it because I was too busy feeling indignant. Instead, I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him like this was his fault, even though it wasn’t. If I hadn’t spent that day with my mom, I’d have woken up in time to stop all this. I mean, okay, I wasn’t big-headed enough to believe I could have stopped Ragnarok by myself, but I could have done something. Hell, anything would have been better than lying if a goddamned bed while the world tried to spin itself off its axis. Stupid world. Stupid Norse Gods.

  “Ragnarok, the Nordic apocalypse, began when Jormungand died.” He pointed at my head as if to say, “You were there for that, sweetie.” It was weird because the sound of his voice in my head was strangely patronizing. “Fenris rose soon after, but the Horsemen stopped him.”

  “Well, at least we have that going for us. What are the others d
oing?” I asked, glancing down at the IV taped to my arm. It wasn’t attached to anything thankfully, or I might have torn it out when I fell. “And by others, I don’t mean Thes and Connor or the Horsemen you keep talking about.” I took a deep breath and shut my eyes as the absurdity of my situation settled around me. I was this close to just going back to bed. “This is not how you deal with people who’ve been in a coma for months. What happened to taking things slowly?”

  “Time will not allow for that,” my father replied, kneeling down next to me and touching my shoulder. “If it did, I’d give you all you require, but as it stands, you must rise and fight, my daughter. It is the only way.”

  “The Hell?” I asked, and as I reached out toward him, I realized he hadn’t answered my question. “Dad, Where’s the rest of the Dioscuri?”

  “Not dead, if that’s what you’re thinking.” He shook his head. “Most are with Thes and Connor, but there are none who can truly stand against the forces rising above us. They need a champion, someone who can avenge the fallen.” He looked hard at me. “They need you, Lillim.”

  Of course they did. Everyone always seemed to need me when the chips were down, when they needed someone to go in and get dirty. They wanted me to be the hero they needed, just like Dirge had been. They needed someone to make the ultimate sacrifice, and like always, that was my goddamned legacy. It was complete bullshit, but at the same time, this wasn’t just anyone asking me. No, this was my father, and if he wanted me to do this, if he wanted me to strap on my swords and wade into battle, I would.

  “And what about you?” I asked as the gizmo on his wrist started to beep. He glanced at it and sighed.

  “I have not killed a god in battle. You have. You need to stand tall and show them we can do it. I cannot do that. Besides, if we hope to win this battle, I need to stay here and help properly deploy our forces across the battlefield.”

  “Oceans would boil, the world would fall in the sun, yadda, yadda, yadda,” I growled, getting to my feet, and as I did, I realized it was a bit easier to do than I expected. I wasn’t sure what was going on exactly, but either way, I understood what he wanted, and as much as I hated the idea, I knew he was right.

  With him stuck here playing commander and my mother dead, the family business of kicking ass and taking names would fall to me. It was almost worse because Masataka had decimated the high ranking Dioscuri forces with his coup, and Warthor and Kishi were stuck in Fairy.

  Even Caleb wasn’t really a Dioscuri anymore. As that thought flitted across my brain, a surge of anger filled me.

  “Dad, where’s Caleb?” I asked, already moving toward the door. I guess it was a good thing there was a war going on because if I stayed here and thought about how I’d been in a coma for months and my God of Time boyfriend hadn’t been here when I woke up, I’d scream. I mean, I know he probably had a good reason, but still. Coma!

  “With the Horsemen,” he replied, getting to his feet and coming toward me. It wasn’t hard for him to catch me since my legs were already tired, and I’d made it all of ten feet. Some champion I was.

  “Awesome,” I grumbled, shaking my head to ward off the sudden pang of hurt that caused me. Caleb was doing his duty, sure, and it made sense for him to be doing that, but I’d have liked to have been important enough to merit a visit.

  “Where are you going?” he asked as his watch beeped again, this time eliciting shrill angry noises.

  “To Dirge’s crater. I think I recovered Isis when I was in the dream world.” I took a deep breath. “If that’s true, the sword will be in the crater, and if you want me kicking asses like I just ran out of bubblegum, I’ll need her.”

  2

  I knew my dad was angry because he’d followed me to the crater, begging me to do all sorts of unreasonable things like eat something and change, which, okay, I had changed into a Dioscuri uniform, but the second I got back to earth I was going to, um… be poor and wear the skintight black jumpsuit, anyway. Sigh. Guess I’d be doing this adventure in what amounted to a skintight leather cat-suit. Awesome. Way to go not perpetuating stereotypes, Lillim.

  Now that I was out here, I was regretting the decision to skip the whole “eating” thing. My stomach growled so loudly, I was sure my father had heard it, but he smartly said nothing.

  Still, I was in way too much of a hurry to get to the crater left behind when Dirge had died to eat. Why? Because I had to know I hadn’t wasted every last second in the dream world. If my katana, Isis, was in that crater, at least it wouldn’t have all been for naught. It was a small consolation, to be sure, but there it was. Sometimes the difference between victory and loss is perspective.

  As I approached the glassy crater, my stomach twisted with dread. I’d never particularly liked visiting the crater where Dirge had sacrificed herself to stop the oncoming demonic horde. I mean, she’d died here, which sort of meant I’d died here. That made it creepy times a billion. I shook my head, trying to dismiss the dread crawling down my spine like an icy-legged spider as I approached the edge, but it remained anyway, just like it always had.

  Shards of purple glass jutted up from any and all angles because the explosion had been hot enough to turn most of the surrounding sand into glass. Even years later, a journey into its depths was asking to be sliced to ribbons by razor sharp shards.

  That said, I’d been to this particular rodeo a couple of times before. Okay, a few dozen times before. When I was particularly small and bratty, I’d journey to the bottom and lay on my back staring at the sun overhead. I wasn’t quite sure why, but something about doing so made me feel closer to Dirge, which, yes, was ridiculous because I was her. What can I say, I’m loony. Besides, it had annoyed my mother and you know how kids are with that business.

  My dad had stopped following me as I approached the edge, smartly deciding to hang back. I almost asked him why, but decided not to bother. I mean, he wasn’t scared of this place or anything. No, it was much more likely he was giving me time and space. It was a nice gesture, and to be fair, I appreciated it even if I sort of wanted him to hold my hand. I wasn’t sure what I’d do if Isis wasn’t down there. I wouldn’t cry, probably, but I’d sure want to cry.

  As sunlight streamed into the crater from overhead, causing it to glitter like a geode under a spotlight, something white as snow glimmered at the very bottom. Something that looked an awful lot like a katana. Thank God! Isis was there waiting for me. I reached out toward it and could feel the power of Isis calling to me, beckoning me closer.

  “Come,” I whispered, filling the word with magic as I spoke. Energy swirled around me, and if I opened my eyes to the ebb and flow of magic, I’d have seen the invisible force of my power wrap around the hilt of the blade. Unfortunately, that tiny effort made a nuclear reactor explode behind my eyes.

  I collapsed to my knees on the glassy surface, sweat clinging to my brow. My heart hammered in my chest as I fought to suck in a breath. It felt like I’d run a marathon, and I’d done a spell I should have been able to do easier than breathing.

  My power level was at an all-time low. I should have listened to my dad and eaten something. If I had, I could have called the damned sword to me with ease. Unfortunately, things being what they were, I was going to have to go down there and get it. Well, at least I’d changed. If I hadn’t, I didn’t want to think of what those crystals would do to my bare legs.

  “Lillim, are you okay?” my dad called from behind me, and I could almost see him coming toward me in my mind’s eye. If I didn’t stop him, he’d approach, which would have been fine, but I sort of wanted to do this on my own. I’d messed up so much by remaining with my fictional mother in the dream world and Isis, well, she was my salvation. I needed to get ahold of her before I could face him. Because even though he wouldn’t say anything, I could hold it up and say “See, it was worth it,” even if it really wasn’t.

  “Yeah,” I said through clenched teeth. “I’m okay. Just a bit hungrier than I expected.” I glanced over
my shoulder and smiled at him. “Make me a sandwich?”

  He rolled his eyes at me. “Sure.” He didn’t move, which was odd behavior for one who had just agreed to make me a sandwich, but there it was. Was he going to stand there and watch me the whole time? I really hoped not. If he did, there was no way I’d get my sandwich anytime soon, and from the way my tummy was rumbling, I wasn’t sure I could handle that kind of disappointment.

  “Kay…” I trailed off, turning back toward the glittering crater. “I’ll just be in my hole of razors and doom.”

  “Have fun, honey,” he replied, and it shocked me because my dad didn’t do sarcasm. He’d been learning. Scary. It made me wonder who he’d been hanging around with, especially because Lot was completely deserted. Maybe he’d been watching sitcoms and going slowly insane. It didn’t seem likely, but what other explanation could there be?

  I shoved away those thoughts and got to my feet. The crater wasn’t that deep, maybe twenty feet. So what did I do? I jumped like a dumbass. Glass crunched under my boots as I hit the ground in the center just like I had a billion times before, only I’d forgotten my muscles had atrophied. I crashed to the ground with so little grace, I could scarcely believe I’d done it. Man, I was out of it, and that concerned me. If just jumping down here was this hard, how was I supposed to stop Ragnarok? It seemed impossible, but I had to try. If I didn’t, who else would?

  As I flailed wildly for balance, I managed to reach out and catch Isis’s hilt before I face-planted into the glass shards. That would have left a mark. Thankfully, the moment I touched the blade, a surge of strength rippled up my arm.

  I felt the Egyptian goddess wrap her arms around me and pour her strength into my atrophied body. I steadied under her touch as strength surged into my muscles, giving me the ability to do simple things like stand. I was immediately grateful for her help even if it was a touch odd because she’d never done that before.