Fairy Tale: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Lillim Callina Chronicles Book 3) (6 page)

That’s when I shot him. The sound of the Beretta was so loud that I was sure it’d woken the dead. The Prince toppled to the floor. The bullet tore through the unguarded flesh of his right thigh in a spray of blood and sinew. He screamed, but I couldn’t hear it over the ringing in my ears. The 9mm bullet had damn near torn his leg off, which was surprising to say the least. It really shouldn’t have done that kind of damage… I guess fairies really were weak to metal.

I took a step forward, pointing the Beretta at his chest. “The first one was a warning. The next two will go into your chest and judging from the looks of things, it’ll hurt quite a bit,” I said.

“Look you crazy bitch,” he snarled through clenched teeth as he gripped his thigh with both hands. Blood leaked through his fingers, pooling around him on the hard, cold marble below him. His hands shimmered briefly, and I think he was trying to call his power, but every time he did, the bullet flared with green-blue fire, and his power faded.

“Did you seriously just call the girl who just shot you a crazy bitch? Is that really your game plan?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him. “How well do you think that plan works out for you in the end?”

“I’m still not sleeping with you. I’ll scream rape!” His skin was starting to turn a little green around the edges of the wound, thin black lines webbing out away from the wound like worms crawling through his flesh.

“Okay, firstly,” I said, pushing the gun against the underside of his chin. There was a small sizzling noise and part of me wondered if it was from the residual heat of the barrel or if it was from the iron in the weapon. “I am not trying to sleep with you. That ship has sailed. Secondly, I’m pretty sure you can’t scream louder than the gunshot I just fired, so you better hope someone heard that or you’re pretty much screwed.”

His eyes opened wide and a tremor ran down his body. I sat down on him, straddling his waist between my legs and pinning his arms to the ground with my knees… and tried to ignore the fact that I wasn’t wearing anything under the dress. I let go of the gun with my right hand and trailed my index finger down his neck and onto his chest.

I smiled, showing all my teeth as I leaned down until my face was just a few centimeters from his. “Besides,” I cooed, “no one can get to you before I pull this trigger anyway,
lover.”

“Wha-what do you want?” he stammered, his eyes glancing around furtively. I think he was hoping someone would come save him from the crazy virgin. I wasn’t sure quite how long I had, but I was pretty sure that even if no one heard the gunshot, someone would happen down this corridor soon enough.

“I want to know where my friend Kishi is located. Where are you holding her?” My voice was empty and matter-of-fact. He shivered beneath me, and the movement of his body against my inner thighs made some very strange thoughts dance through my head.

“I don’t know who that is,” he said.

I fired again. The bullet ricocheted off the floor a few inches from his head, spraying chunks of marble at him. He screamed and tried to throw his body the other way. He almost succeeded despite having only one leg, but pressing the gun against his temple made him stop moving pretty quickly.

“Look. You’re losing a whole lot of blood. I don’t think you’ll make it much longer,” I said. Already the feel of his blood, sticky and warm against my toes, was tying my stomach up into knots. “You should answer me quickly and efficiently.”

“And if I don’t?” he sneered.

I shot him again. The bullet tore through his shoulder, spewing blood and bone over us. He screamed, shutting his eyes and thrashing beneath me like a wounded animal, which, I guess he was. “If you don’t… well let’s just say I will penetrate you in a way you really won’t like.”

Chapter 7

I’d only had to shoot the Prince of the Burning Ash two more times before he finally told me where to find Kishi, which, I’ll admit, was a little crazy. I mean who gets shot four times at close range to protect information that you don’t really care about very much? Talk about being stubborn.

I was on my way there now. Unfortunately, I hadn’t counted on wasting seven shots on the guy. Now there were only thirteen shots left in my extended, twenty round magazine. If there were fourteen more bad guys down there, I was going to be in trouble. Hell, if there were two more guys like the Prince, I was going to be in trouble. It wasn’t like I could reach in my overcoat pocket and pull out a spare magazine. If I wanted to reload or swap magazines, I was going to have to open my spirit pouch, and somehow, I didn’t think the bad guys were going to wait. Too bad my dress didn’t have pockets, otherwise I’d be stuffing them chock full of bullets right about now.

I paused at the corner and peeked my head around. Two more of those golden-armored guards stood at attention outside the door to what I assumed was the prison tower. I shut my eyes and took a deep breath. I swung my body around the corner and dropped into a two-handed firing stance.

The shot hit the left guard in the center of his chest, punching through his golden armor and sending him staggering back against the wall. I dove to the side as the second guard’s spear whistled by my ear. I hit the ground and rolled to my feet as he came toward me already swinging his short-sword through the air.

My second bullet caught him in the right shoulder, making him drop the sword. It clanged to the ground with a metallic thump as the guard screamed. I leapt to my feet and dodged past him as he slumped to the ground gripping his arm, blood spilling out through the seams of his armor.

I was glad that worked. I wasn’t sure what the penetration would be for a 9mm round on enchanted golden fairy-armor. Then again, if the bullets were as effective on fairy magic as they were on the Prince, whatever spells they used to harden the armor wouldn’t work. Good for me.

I tried the door. Locked. Swell.

The first guard was still slumped on the floor, blood oozing out from his armor and pooling around him. I steeled myself and pulled the keys from the guard’s belt. They were covered in sticky blood, and I had to resist the urge to wipe them on my dress or fling them across the room. I unlocked the door and sighed. I should keep the keys. It would be the smart thing to do, even though I really wanted to hurl them down the hallway.

I snapped them to my belt, glad that accessories like belts and swords didn’t seem to fall under the “one layer” rule and pushed the door open. The hallway was lit by luminescent purple moss that led to a spiral staircase a few feet away. There was no noise coming from the rooms on either side, which was good. If there were other guards present they would have come after me by now.

I shuffled forward, gun out and ready to fire. A shadow spilled out of the room ahead of me. I threw my back against the wall and held my breath. The metal surface was cool against my skin as I waited for the shadow to move, to edge out and give me a target.

Whatever it was would be better off staying put because, honestly, I was in a shoot first, shoot later, and don’t bother asking questions kind of mood. That should have scared me. It didn’t.

That should have scared me more. I’d just shot two guards in cold blood without even blinking. I didn’t know if they were dead or not, but I really didn’t care either way. Hell, I’d shot the Prince of the Burning Ash four times and felt nothing. If something popped out of that room I was going to shoot it too, and I wouldn’t stop until it was dead.

I stepped around the edge of the doorway, pointing my Beretta inside and sweeping it across the room. My eyes opened wide, and I took a step backward.

Kishi lay bloody and battered across an immense four-poster bed. Sheets and other amenities had been flung away leaving the mattress bare. Sprays of blood dribbled down the bright, gilded walls to pool on the marble floor. It was far too much blood to have all come from Kishi.

I took a step into the room, sweeping it for enemies once more but finding no one. Kishi looked toward me, her eyes vacant with that thousand-mile stare I’ve seen on so many battlefields. I sucked in a deep breath and moved toward her. This wasn’t good… it wasn’t good at all.

Maybe my experience with the Prince of the Burning Ash wasn’t atypical. Maybe the only unique part of that whole experience was the ending. A shudder ran down my spine like a procession of icy bugs.

“Kishi?” I whispered. “Are you okay? Can you hear me?”

Her expression didn’t change. She lay there, staring off into space with blood oozing down her cheek. I reached out with my right hand slowly, tentatively. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen when I touched her, wasn’t sure I even should touch her. Not that it mattered. I was getting her out of here… now.

Her skin was stiff and cool to the touch, almost like a corpse that started cooling down. She was still breathing, so I knew she was still alive. What stole her heat?

Something crashed into the side of my head, pitching me to the side. My gun slipped from my hand as I hit the floor; my vision was blurry and black around the edges. I reached out for my weapon as something grabbed me by the ankle and yanked me away. My fingers scrabbled against the smooth tile, unable to find purchase on its slick surface.

I reached down to grab my swords, trying to twist my body so I could see my attacker. A surge of electricity exploded up my body, burning me to the core and making my heart skip a beat. Something seized my left arm and wrenched it violently upward behind my back. I screamed and tried to call my power but nothing came. A profound sense of emptiness filled me, like there was a big hole where my power should be.

“It isn’t often that I get to indulge myself with a Dioscuri… and this day I get two.” A spray of spittle splattered against the back of my neck. “The Queen has truly smiled on me this day. I do so love fresh meat.”

Weight settled on top of me, pinning my arms behind my back. I kicked back at my attacker and struck something the temperature of the sun. I screamed, flailing my body in agony.

He snarled and pushed my legs wide so I couldn’t hit him again. His body pressed against mine as he leaned in close, smothering me beneath his bulk. The smell of burning rubber filled my nostrils as he cooed into my ear. “You can’t fight the Breaker of Rage and Flame.” His voice crackled like an inferno in my ears, and his breath scalded my skin. “I will suck the power from your still warm flesh, then I will tear out your heart and swallow it whole while you watch…and when you lay there, your life leaking away across the floor, just before your vision goes dark, I will go back and finish your friend.”

The sound of a gunshot split the air, so loud that it reduced my hearing to a muffled ringing. Warm sticky fluid spattered over me. There was another blast, and the form on top of me swayed.

More gunshots ripped through the air, and the thing fell off of me. I rolled away. Kishi stood over us holding my gun. Blood pooled out of the thing next to me though I couldn’t quite see it. Light seemed to bend around it, masking its form from view.

Kishi pulled the trigger twice more and blood exploded from it, spraying me with warm, sticky goo. The Breaker of Rage and Flame shuddered, the glamor fading away from it to reveal an eerily thin Sidhe. He was so slim that he seemed more like a skeleton dipped in blue-black wax. He tried to move, tried to crawl away but his body was filled with too many softball-sized holes. His shoulder had been blown apart. Blood pooled around him as Kishi stepped closer and put the gun against the underside of his jaw.

The first two shots were more than enough to blow apart his skull. The headless corpse lay there twitching as she pulled the trigger over and over again, even though the Sidhe had been reduced to little more than a bloody smear.

Her eyes still held that empty, emotionless look that I’ve seen people get on the battlefield. It was the look of no return. The look that said something didn’t just snap, but broke completely away.

Blood dripped down Kishi’s left arm and spattered against the Breaker’s corpse and fire leapt from the body, casting the room in dancing shadows. Kishi pulled the trigger again, not even bothering to move as the Sidhe’s body disintegrated in a swirling flash of orange light. It shot straight into the air before slamming into Kishi’s chest and throwing her backward across the marble floor.

It melted over her body like honey, and as she got to her hands and knees, her wounds healed. She shook her head as the glow faded, gun clutched so tightly in her fists that her knuckles were white with strain.

I stood slowly, still woozy and walked over to her and knelt next to her. I put my hand over hers and pulled the gun away from her. It came away easily. She looked over at me with her blank, soulless eyes, and I fought the urge to cringe and run away.

“He’s dead,” I said.

She looked back at him and tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. “It’s not enough…” The words came out in a whisper so low that I barely heard it.

“It’s never enough,” I said, taking her by the hand and leading her away.

“Lillim,” she said, glancing back toward the body one last time. A shudder ran down her spine, and I was really glad I didn’t know the details about what happened before I arrived.

“Yeah?” I asked.

“I want the gun.”

“It’s out of bullets,” I replied.

“Reload the gun and give it to me,” she said, and the emptiness in her voice made me shiver.

I sighed. I shut my eyes and summoned my spirit pouch once again. I reached inside and pulled out the spare magazine. I swapped it for the empty one and put the empty magazine into my spirit pouch.

“Do you know how to shoot?” I asked, reaching in again.

“Point at the bad guy and pull the trigger.” Her voice was cold, glacial even.

“There’s only twenty shots. I don’t have any more ammo for it,” I said.

“You have infinite space in that pouch, and you only have two clips?” she asked and there was a thread of emotion just below the surface of her voice.

“Firstly, it is called a magazine when you use it with a pistol. Secondly, most things don’t live through forty rounds. Thirdly, it is way easier to pull things out of a desk drawer than out of my spirit pouch. Those are my emergency rounds,” I said as I pulled my shotgun from the pouch and willed it away.