Pursuit: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Lillim Callina Chronicles Book 4) Read Online Free Page B

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    The werewolf paused, turning back to look at me. “There’s a guy in Antigua that used to be a Dioscuri. Maybe you should talk to him about hiding. He’s been at it a while.”
    “Well that’s just swell. How the hell am I going to get to Anig-whatever?” I snapped, and I’ll admit it, stamped my foot on the grass.
    Gib huffed before stomping back toward me, his feet slapping against the grass like a moody child. When he got to me, he reached out, pointing past my head. I turned, glancing where he pointed to see the tree still glowing. “Go ask the tree for help,” he said. “Or don’t. But either way, go away!”
    I didn’t watch him walk off because I was too busy trying to approach the tree, one hand splayed across my face to help with the blinding green light. As I got closer, a tiny demonic looking chipmunk with blazing green fur leapt down from the branches and began chattering at me.
    “Um… hi?” I said, as it bounded up to me and seized my pant leg.
    “Where do you want to go?” it asked in a voice that reminded me of cartoon mice.
    “To Antigua,” I said with a sigh.
    “Okay,” it replied and scampered away, leaping up the tree and disappearing from my sight into the effervescent branches.
    “Well, that was helpful,” I murmured. Then an acorn struck me in the side of the head.
    “Hey!” I yelped, bending to pick up the nut. It glowed with eerie green light and the word “eat” was scratched onto it. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said, but neither the tree nor the chipmunk responded.
    I sighed, glancing around to make sure no one was watching me and popped the acorn into my mouth. The taste of acrid smoke filled my mouth, and I shut my eyes, swallowing as hard as I could.
    When I opened my eyes, I was standing on a beach. The waves lapping at the sand so gently that it made me want to jump in. These waves were nothing like the ones back home in Huntington Beach.
    I wiped my brow with the back of my hand as the sun bore down on me. The air clung to me like a wet sweater.
    “So this is Antigua?” I mused as I made my way from the beach and moved through the bustling streets. Evidently, fall was the busy time here. All around me, maniacs in cars older than my seventeen years darted through the too narrow streets. Everywhere I turned, people gave me one of two looks. The please don’t come talk to me look or the please come buy something from me look. There really wasn’t a third look. It made me feel sort of unwanted.
    Still, it was tropical, and I had nearly an hour to myself. After that, Masataka’s goons would use the full power of Lot’s surveillance equipment to track me down and pinpoint my exact location.
    I harrumphed and hugged myself despite the heat as a chill sauntered down my back. I stepped up to one of the local shops and glanced up at a sign that said Nelson’s Boatyard. Inside, there was nothing but swimwear and souvenir t-shirts.
    “A little girl like you shouldn’t be walking around in bloody clothing,” an older female voice said from behind me. I spun, my heart leaping into my throat, to see an elderly lady with skin the color of melted chocolate. “I can make you a fine deal on some new clothes,” she added, grinning at me.
    Well, that’s a good idea, I thought, unconsciously picking at my bloody sweatshirt.
    A few minutes later, I settled for a blue ‘I heart Antigua’ T-shirt that was authentically made in China because it had a jolly roger instead of a heart and a pair of pink board shorts with white stripes down the sides. Why? Because sauntering about in bloody clothing didn’t seem fun, and the only thing the shop sold was swimwear. I was just thankful that the lady had girl shorts in addition to bikini bottoms. I was about done fighting monsters in my underwear, water-resistant or not.
    Now, as I stood between two giant pillars that had once been the site of an immense boat cleaning industry during the whaling years, I realized I