Free Kill It With Magic: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Lillim Callina Chronicles Book 1) by J.A. Cipriano Page B

that his presence scared me.
    “We will go and bring back my son. Both of us. You will come without complaint and without backtalk. You will do this because, at this moment, I am very close to killing you.”
    “I can’t do this with you breathing down my neck. Aside from you being an emotional basket case, Rome is filled with silver dust. Even you can’t survive there.” Gib’s eyes raged, and a wave of emotion washed over me like a desert wind. Still, he didn’t argue.
    “Still,” I added with a sigh, “there’s no way I’m getting there without a passport and parental approval.”
    “Well, it’s your lucky day then, because it just so happens that I have a way of transporting us to Rome,” Logan replied in weasily sort of way, as though this was a way out of his predicament.
    “Yeah… It’d be quite fortunate for you if you had a private plane handy,” I muttered with the same feeling that a rat would have aboard a sinking ship.
    “It just so happens that I do. I just need Dioscuri authorization to bring my plane out of the country.” Logan’s lips curled up in a slight smile. “One little signature, and I’ll take you to Rome.”

Chapter 10
    Rome was, in short, a hell hole. As I surveyed the wreckage that littered the landscape, I realized that this mission was beginning to be a bit more difficult than I had imagined. That said something about the state of my imagination. I had wanted to find my old mentor, Warthor, and have him help me resolve the issue with Sharkface. I had not meant to get myself caught up in a plot to kidnap a werewolf’s kid. Sooner or later, I was going to have to track down that damned drake.
    I shook my head and glanced at the debris-strewn countryside. I remembered hearing about the explosion that had left the once-holy city in shambles. Now Rome was home to little more than biker gangs and street rats, a stunningly permanent reminder of the horrors of war. And to think, it was supposed to be a lot better than the ruins of Jerusalem.
    Swirling gouts of smoke leapt into the air until they melded seamlessly with the ashen sky. I hated places like this. Places where war had rendered the land unlivable. Part of it was the generic that’s-so-terrible feeling everyone gets in the pit of their stomach when they see something horrible. The other part of it was a bit tougher for me to explain.
    I’d seen so many battles over the course of eight lives. Hell, seven of them had claimed my life. I had died fighting for one reason or another over and over. No matter how hard I fought and bled and struggled, stuff like this kept occurring.
    Places like this made me question the very thing that had been drilled into me since I was a baby. Since the first time my mother had left me in a werewolf den in the middle of the night on a full moon, I had been taught that everything we did was for the greater good, that we had to save humanity. All of my blood, sweat, and tears were for the betterment of mankind.
    Well… the monsters that hide under the beds of five-year-olds hadn’t been the ones to drop a nuke on Rome or Jerusalem. We had good old fashioned humanity to thank for that one. I swallowed and glanced at the vampire.
    “Looks like someone struck out at God himself,” Logan said with a chuckle, plodding forward in a carefree sort of way.
    I glowered at him and followed toward what I hoped would be the location of the founder. I knew I couldn’t count on Logan for much. I knew I couldn’t count on the Dioscuri, either. I was on my own… again.
    With all the silver dust in the air, even Gib couldn’t help me. Though, I had to admit, filling the air with silver dust was a good way of keeping werewolves out of the place.
    “Seems like a strange place to bring a were-cub,” I said as we passed a blackened building. Eyes from within the structure focused restlessly on us. I wondered if we’d get attacked but pushed thoughts of that away. Chances are, whoever or whatever lived