Nemesis - Legacy Book 5 (Legacy Series)

by Ryan Attard

“This thing has a curse,” he said. “It will immolate me if I reveal anything.”

  I knew this, of course. About a year ago my sister and I had the displeasure of interrogating a Black Ring Summoner, and as soon as he began singing he turned into a crisp.

  Amaymon sighed. He pinched two piercings between his fingers and gingerly pulled.

  “And do I look like I care?” he said. The Black Ring guy’s eyes widened with terror.

  “You’re gonna die — so what?” Amaymon continued. “But you gotta ask yourself, who can hurt you the most in the few short minutes you got left? A demon renowned for mayhem and murder, or some lousy CEO in a turtleneck?”

  The Black Ring guy genuinely frowned at us. “You don’t know, do you?” He managed a snicker. “You don’t know anything about him. He’s no ordinary-”

  “We know,” I said, cutting him off before the tattoo decided to burn him up. “Greede is probably a demon too. Maybe even the Sin of Greed, since he’s obviously not hiding anything.”

  The guy nodded. “No, that’s just it. All the rest, they’re just monsters. But not Mr. Greede. He’s not like the rest. He’s just a man,” he said. “That’s why we follow him. He’s the most powerful man ali-”

  He choked on his next syllable.

  “Aw, fuck me,” Amaymon said. He released the guy and pushed him, caving in the tree and burying him inside the bark. The guy’s head and chest caved in under such pressure.

  At the same time, Amaymon dove onto me and we both sank below the ground. It felt like falling a million floors down to oblivion.

  A burst of magic enveloped the air, filling the atmosphere with foulness and death.

  Amaymon and I reemerged from the ground. I gasped for air, inhaling lungfuls.

  “A little warning next time,” I said.

  Amaymon ignored me. Instead, he was looking at his arm. A red burn snaked along his forearm, reaching just below his pinky.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  Wordlessly, he thrust his arm into the ground, burying it elbow deep, and pulled it back out. Mud and soil flaked off.

  The burn was still there.

  “We have a problem,” he said. “This ain’t no human magic. Only a demon can harm another demon.” He looked at the black pockmark that had once been the Black Ring guy. “Erik, you’ve met the Greede guy before. Who in the fuck are we dealing with here?”

  I eyed the pockmark but my eyes kept going back to Amaymon’s burn. The Black Ring guy said that Greede was human but nothing should be able to harm a demon as powerful as Amaymon.

  Nothing, except an even more powerful demon.

  Chapter 7

  “So he’s gone? Your only witness and you let him burn up?”

  I closed my eyes and counted to ten. When that didn’t work, I remembered that new phones cost money which I didn’t have and would involve talking to people.

  “I didn’t let him get burnt up,” I retorted. “He exploded. Because of a curse. You know that, you made Black Ring people explode before.”

  My sister grunted on the other side of the phone. “And he told you that Greede is not a demon?” she asked.

  I grinned. No one on the planet was better at deflecting blame than my sister.

  “That’s just it, Gil,” I said. “Our research, our witnesses, and what we’re seeing don’t add up. This guy is a whole buffet of magical fuckery. Human, angel, demon; there’s no telling what kind of magic he’s using.”

  “But…”

  “But something tells me he is human,” I said. “Look at his motivations.”

  “I have,” Gil replied. “Alan Greede, despite his involvement in anything from politics to business to charity, seems to have no endgame goals.”

  “You weren’t there in that room,” I said. “You weren’t held by him. Ask your boyfriend. There’s no hiding that craziness. Only humans can develop that kind of psychopathy.”

  A pause. “That helps narrow it down,” she said. “But it will complicate things in the long run. We need to find out how he has access to such power.”

  “He could be the Sin of Greed,” I said. “We’re missing five out of the original lot and something tells me he wants us to know.”

  “A Sin that behaves unlike any other,” she said.

  “They all behave in their own weird way,” I cracked. “Some build their own planets, some try to host an orgy on a cruise ship and murder-fuck your brother.”

  I could practically feel her rolling her eyes. “An image I could have done without, brother,” she replied. “Besides I doubt your current paramour would appreciate that.”

  “My paramour?” I repeated. “What are you, a thousand years old? And besides, you have no idea what Akasha appreciates.”

  “Nor do I wish to find out, unless it’s official Grigori business,” Gil replied.

  One of the many reasons why I called Akasha back when she gave me her phone number — minutes after she lifted the death sentence on me — was because I knew it would annoy the living bejeezus out of both my sister and the tight-asses known as the Grigori.

  Not that Gil was innocent of dipping her pen in the company ink.

  So to speak.

  “I’m sure you’ve stopped seeing Greg once you got your official position within the Supernatural Avengers,” I replied sarcastically.

  “For the last time, Erik,” she answered through gritted teeth, “Greg and I are not dating. We’re… we’re friends, I suppose.”

  “Yes, I’m sure his intentions are quite friendly.”

  “What I do with my personal life is none of your business, brother,” she snapped defensively.

  “Fair point.”

  “And while we’re on the subject,” she went on, “please stop threatening to castrate him.”

  “Why?” I jabbed. “I thought you guys were just friendly. Won’t need his dick to be friendly.”

  “Goodbye, brother.”

  “Bye bye, little sis. Remember to wear protection.”

  “You’re a child. And we’re twins. And I am clearly the mature one.”

  “Wow, you sound like you really need to get laid. Are you sure he’s doing it right? Want me to come over there with a picture book?”

  She hung up on me.

  I set the receiver down, a grin on my face. Okay, maybe not my most mature moment, but pushing Gil’s buttons always made me feel better. Besides, she spent years railing on me, watching over me like she was a damn prison warden. Pissing her off was my karmic reward.

  “That sounded productive,” Abi said, walking in with a stack of mail.

  “How much did you hear?”

  “Just enough to know you’re gonna need earplugs for the next family meeting,” she said.

  I frowned. “We don’t have family meetings. We have ‘let’s point out what Erik did wrong’ meetings.”

  “Is she gonna fix the barrier to the Vensir’s place?”

  “Already on it.”

  Abi placed her hands on her hips and gave me a look I learnt years ago was a cross between concern and disapproval.

  Oh, good. Another woman disappointed in me.

  “Okay, look,” she began. “I know it’s your life and all…”

  I raised my eyebrows quizzically.

  “Akasha was really pissed off when she left,” Abi said.

  “Did she say something?”

  “No. She never says anything. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I walked in on the two of you just chatting or watching tv. You guys never talk. It seems like you’re just banging, which is fine don’t get me wrong, but maybe it’s not all she wants.”

  She stopped talking and I looked at her, and she looked away.

  “You’re right,” I said, feeling the venom in my tongue. “It’s my life.”

  A pause.

  I sighed.

  “Look Abi,” I said, already feeling like an asshole. “Akasha and I, our relationship isn’t your typical one. Yeah, we date and hook up, and somet
imes we go on missions together. But she’s like a hundred years old. She’s seen things and done things. I’m a mentally broken idiot who can barely afford to keep this place running. Not much I can offer her.”

  They say truth liberates you. I don’t know who ‘they’ are but they must have never held deep secrets.

  I felt the lump in my throat, the pounding in my chest. I never admitted that out loud to anyone. So long as that insecurity remained in my head, it was safe. Thoughts have no value — they are just etherial passings. But words are real. Words solidify intention, turning the mystical into reality. My fears had now become real and worse than that, they were out there in the open, inside the mind of another.

  Abi stared at me before shaking her head. She reached out and grabbed my hand.

  “I don’t know what you’re going through, Erik,” she said kindly. “No one does, despite our best attempts at making you feel better. But I know she makes you happy. And you owe it to yourself to at least try to be happy. You deserve that more than anyone else.” She gave my hand a squeeze. “Talk to her.”

  I nodded, unable to speak for fear of breaking down in tears.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  Abi straightened up. “The mail.” She picked up an envelope. “This one’s addressed to you.”

  I frowned and tore the envelope open. A single leaflet fell out.

  “What the hell is this?” I asked.

  “Erik,” Abi said, her eyes wide. “Turn the page over.”

  I flipped the flyer. The back was plain white, save for a giant circle drawn in thick black sharpie.

  To anyone else it was just a drawing or maybe someone testing out their pen.

  But after this morning’s events there was no way this was coincidence. The Black Ring Society. Alan Greede. They had sent this.

  I flipped the page over. The words ‘Comic Con’ were emblazoned on the glossy paper, along with several graphics and drawings. I gotta admit, I’m not much of superhero nerd. I like the ones like Batman who don’t have any superpowers — because for all of my magic, I can’t use it, so I guess I can relate — and just rely on their brains to take down the big baddies.

  Plus, anyone who wears a cape has some serious mental issue. Don’t argue with me on that. I’ve actually faced off against people wearing capes. They’re all in the same crazy basket.

  I handed the flyer to Abi and went back to the envelope, this time digging my hand inside. Something small and sharp bit into my finger and I pulled out a Ryleh Corp business card.

  Turning it over, the words ‘See You There’ were written in neat silver ink, perfectly matching the black background of card.

  “Greede,” I said, showing Abi the card. “He’s fucking with us.”

  “It’s Greede,” Abi said. “He’s always fucking with us.” She frowned at me. “You’re actually thinking of going, aren’t you?”

  I nodded. “I gotta see this, Abi. I gotta find out what his endgame is. We need a weakness.”

  “Then I’m coming with you.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Goddammit, Erik.” Abi slammed her hands on my desk. “Will you just snap out of it already? You are not alone in this. I don’t know why you want to take him on by yourself, but you’ll fail. And you’ll die. Do you actually want to die?”

  I grinned. “Not sure I can.”

  “Stop joking,” she snapped. “He can take you down. He can take you away. From me, from us. Greede came to us as a team, and we will take him down as a team.” Abi crossed her hands. “I mean it. I’m coming along. And you need me to get in.”

  I cocked my head. “What do you mean?”

  She grinned. “This is Comic Con. You think you can just walk in. There’s a line that starts from 6 am.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “That is,” she said, “unless you happen to know one of the organizers.”

  I decided not to ask how she knew one of the organizers, mostly because the image of her getting hot and heavy with some douche-bag in Spiderman underwear made me want to vomit.

  “I can get passes for the three of us, Amaymon included,” Abi was saying. “And Gil, and however many undercover guys she’s bringing along.”

  “No,” I said. “No Gil.”

  “Erik, you’re gonna need-”

  “I’m serious, Abi,” I snapped. “Gil’s already lost enough. Did you forget Greede gunned for her personally? She’s itching for revenge and she will make mistakes.”

  Abi gave me her Are-You-Kidding-Me look but I was adamant.

  “Fine,” she said. “Me, you, and Amaymon.”

  “Not so sure about Amaymon either,” I said. “He’s injured.”

  “No, he’s not.” Amaymon descended the stairs in his cat form, transforming as he reached my desk. He pulled back his sleeve, revealing a thin red scar where the burn was several hours ago. “I’m all healed up.”

  “The scar is still here,” I pointed out.

  “Chicks dig scars,” he said. “That’s why I’m leaving it.”

  “This is serious,” I retorted. “If you’re hurt…”

  “Listen, Mary Poppins,” he snapped. “If I tell you I’m combat-ready, you better believe that. Now, whatever juice that tattoo had, it got me good, but nowhere near enough to stop me. I got a little scar. Get over it.” He rolled his shoulders. “Besides, it is healing. Took a few more hours that expected, but I should be fine by the time we get to where we need to get goin’.” He cocked his head. “Where exactly are we goin’?”

  “Comic Con,” Abi said.

  Amaymon’s eyes widened with glee. “No way! I’ve always wanted to go.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Are you dumb?” he shot back. “Hot chicks in costumes. Hours of waiting in line. Introverts, geeks, nerds, losers, all come out to play. Do you know how many hot girls are insecure and introverted? Way more than you think!”

  Abi’s face contorted in disgust. “Why do I feel like I need a shower every time you speak?”

  “Amaymon, Greede is gonna be there,” I said. “He wants us to chase him.”

  He nodded. “You have any idea what’s he planning?”

  “Nope.”

  “Better. It’s no fun if there ain’t no surprises.” He picked up the leaflet again and grinned. “Oh man, I’m gonna love this!”

  Chapter 8

  “I fucking hate this!”

  The lines were too long, the noise too loud, the people too many, and everyone was wearing costumes that ranged from sex-fantasy-inducing, to way-too-much-color-and-now-I’m-having-a-minor-epileptic-fit.

  On the plus side, as miserable as I was, Amaymon was truly in hell. And not the fun kind.

  “What is wrong with you people?” he complained. “Standing in line for hours just to meet some washed up git from a show that premiered thirty years ago? They don’t even talk to you — they just shake your hand, sign the thing and move on.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Got shut down again, huh?”

  He sat down and buried his head in his hands. Part of me started feeling sorry for him.

  A small part.

  Mostly I tried to stifle my giggles with a second cup of surprisingly good coffee. It had to be, it cost three times what a regular cup would.

  “It’s like I can’t impress them anymore,” Amaymon went on. “Like they don’t even see me.”

  “What’s wrong with him?” Abi asked as she walked towards our table with a set of laminated passes.

  “Apparently nerds and millennials are immune to his charms,” I answered. “It’s almost like they caught up to his bullshit.”

  “Abi,” Amaymon said. “I understand your pain now. I understand your needs and desires.”

  She raised her eyebrows.

  “And I know you’ll want to help a friend in need.” He reached over and grasped her hand. “Please introduce me to your other succubii friends.”

  Abi freed herself. “What the hell are you
talking about?”

  “I know you have succubii friends,” Amaymon said. “I’m sorry if you were trying to keep this from Erik, although it’s understandable — I mean, look at him, right?”

  “I’m not the one begging to get laid,” I said.

  Amaymon shot me a look before resuming his pleading. “But I’m different, Abi,” he said. “I can show them devil ladies a good time.”

  “I don’t have any succubii friends, Amaymon,” she said. “I have normal friends. Regular friends. Sometimes slutty friends, but that’s none of your business.”

  The demon leaned his head back. “Normal friends? Human friends?” His voice rose in pitch, forcing him to clear his throat. “That’s okay, I can get down and dirty with humans.”

  “You can get down and dirty with just about anything,” I supplied.

  Amaymon ignored me. “So, no sex demon friends?” he asked Abi.

  “Nope.”

  “Can you get me some?”

  “Fuck off, Amaymon,” Abi said.

  “That’s not a no,” he said, before glaring at me. “Can’t kill, can’t fuck, can’t smoke indoors. Why do we keep saving the world?”

  I shrugged and finished my coffee. Abi rolled her eyes.

  “Here,” she said, sliding a laminated tag in front of each one of us. “These are full day passes. You’ve got access to pretty much anywhere you wanna go, except a couple of restricted areas. That means we don’t have to break into anywhere. Just show the pass at the door and we’re in.”

  “What about weapons?” I asked. I doubted security would let me pass with a short sword strapped to my lower back and a behemoth of a gun on my thigh. “We can’t face Greede empty handed.”

  Abi smiled. “Already sorted. There’s a back door right over there. It’s reserved for staff, but my, um, friend, is gonna let us through. No security checks.”

  “Have I told you I’m really glad I hired you?” I told her.

  She beamed. “Thanks. You didn’t have much choice in the matter, but it’s always nice to be appreciated.” She stood up. “Shall we?”

  Amaymon and I followed her. “Has she always been this sassy?” I whispered.

  “Side effect of hanging out with you,” Amaymon grouchily replied.