by Ryan Attard
Her words cut through me more than any magic attack did that night. I closed my eyes and let out a long breath. I felt the magic dissipate and my humanity retuning.
And along with it came the realization that I was indeed a monster. I was a horrible human being who wanted to murder someone, as deserving as it is.
And it took a demon to stop me.
Amaymon nodded at me. “No need to thank me,” he said. “Just keepin’ a promise.”
I never said it out loud but I muttered a silent thank you. As I passed by Ezekiel, I felt the angel bristle.
“Sorry about that,” I said. “But this is the human way. Sometimes we fuck up. You sure you wanna side with us?”
He nodded. “All kindness is rooted in forgiveness and understanding,” he said. “Perhaps that is something you must give onto yourself.”
I looked away.
The fuck was I gonna say? The angel was two words away from making me lose it, and the last thing we needed was for me to break down in tears of self-pity.
Luckily, that’s what Amaymon is for.
He draped a hand over me. “I got you, bother,” he cawed. “Oh, by the way, you are getting stronger.”
“How so?”
“I hit you with all the intention of killing you,” he replied.
“Gee thanks.”
“Nah, you ain’t gettin’ me,” he said. “Last time you weren’t this strong. This power you got, you gotta use — at right place, right time though.”
I cocked my head, trying to decipher his insinuation.
“So you’re saying,” I began, “that if I were to face Greede…”
The demon nodded and grinned. “Yeah. Now, you’re ready to take him on. And we’ll be right there with ya.”
He stepped forward, joining Abi, Jack and Ezekiel, all of whom looked at me, awaiting my order.
I closed my eyes, and thanked whatever deity up there blessed me with such amazing friends. Hell, maybe there was hope for me yet.
“Everyone, pack up your gear,” I told them. “We’re taking this fight to Greede.”
Chapter 21
Ryleh Corp loomed over the horizon like a castle in medieval times. It was situated right over the port, one massive corporate tower giving berth to a cluster of warehouses and storage units. Beyond that, the actual port, lined up with containers cranes. Raise your head a little and you are welcomed by the glittering waves of the Pacific.
I knew what that view looked like from the top offices at the Ryleh building — I’d been there before, as Greede’s unwilling guest. The memory of that event further justified what I was about to do.
We assembled at the front door, myself, Amaymon, Abi, Jack and Ezekiel. At my signal, the latter three stepped back. Unbeknownst to them, I told Ezekiel to keep them alive at all costs. Abi and Jack were strong, but not this strong.
Amaymon and I stepped forwards. The well-dressed security guards glanced up at us.
I looked at Amaymon and waved my hands at the building. “After you.”
The demon grinned and gave the security guards a look that instantly stupefied them.
Then he ran.
No, not quite.
Amaymon, using his immense demonic power, dashed forwards with such speeds that he broke the sound barrier. The sonic boom made me stumble — and I was bracing for it.
The guards were flattened and every window on the first two floors shattered. Amaymon stopped in the middle of the foyer. Fully armed guards opened fire on him. He laughed maniacally as bullets simply bounced off of him.
“I love my job!” he screamed, stomping on the ground.
And that’s when Ryleh Corp lost the entire ground floor.
The building fell one storey, slamming on the ground with an explosion and dust that buried everything around it.
I swiped Djinn, creating enough of a wind burst to part the dust.
The entire building was cracked, shattered, with bits crumbling off. An alarm blared in the distance, followed by what I was sure to be entire squads of law enforcement. We had to hurry before they showed up, but I always knew that they would, especially once the first big kaboom went off.
“Now,” I ordered the three behind me.
At my command, they ran to the right, towards a side entrance. I simply walked to the front, climbing through a window that was now just a hole in the wall.
More armed guards than I could have counted streamed out, each carrying assault weapons. Someone gave the order to fire and the real fight began.
Bullets tore into me. I did my best to dodge.
Amaymon summoned a fence of pure rock around him, expending it until it pushed back the soldiers from drowning me. I charged Djinn and swung, releasing all that energy in one omnidirectional blast.
From my peripheral vision, I could see Abi and Jack engaging soldiers while the angel stood back. His hands were clasped together in prayer — I felt some sort of magic emanating from him.
Jack was in full metal mode, taking bullets on the front line. His arms elongated into swords and he began cutting down anyone in range. Abi covered his back, providing support with her own weapon. At one point, she applied telekinesis to a piece of debris, blocking an entrance.
“Keep moving,” I yelled.
A soldier charged at me, knocking out my wind. I hooked my free hand, twisted to throw him off me, and reached for my gun before he got his. A bullet silenced him forever.
Amaymon cleared the path, making the walls explode and sending lethal shards of stone flying into the the enemy ranks.
Its roar echoed loudly. I knew instinctively what it was before I saw it: the chimera was a manticore, a fusion of a lion with a scorpion tail and bat-like wings. Last time I burst into Greede’s warehouse, I faced three of these and only barely made it out alive.
Twenty of them came in view.
“Holy shit,” I heard Jack swear.
“Stay back,” I ordered. “Amaymon, narrow down that hallway. Jack pull up the rear guard and stay protected. Their tails are poisonous.”
“What about you?” Amaymon demanded.
I didn’t answer him. I couldn’t, because by then I had already thrown myself at the manticores.
The first tail stinger missed me by an inch. I fired at the creature in question. It’s head blew up. I made a mental note to buy Jack a round of drinks — my previous gun had barely dented them.
A second manticore threw itself at me, claws digging into my back. I screamed and stabbed it over and over again. A third manticore retuned the favor, and already I was getting nauseous from the poison. Two more joined as I killed the closest one by eviscerating it. I swung my gun, fired at two more while piling in some magic.
A set of jaws encased my wrist and bit down hard. My gun skittered amidst the mass of snarling monsters, my hand still attached to it. Blood flowed from the stump that was once my left hand. I had no time to scream — several more manticores drove me against the wall, their tails piercing me and injecting me with deadly venom. I fell on one knee.
Amaymon swooped in, grabbing a manticore in a headlock and literally ripping its head off. He got stung but the poison did not seem to affect him. A fist of rock punching into the offending manticore’s underbelly and the creature fell dead, its body crushed.
He grabbed me and tossed me against the wall.
“Stupid, Erik,” he reprimanded, before grinning. “I like it.”
A manticore tore into his back and screamed as its claws were ripped out. Amaymon pulled the claws from his back.
“You can have these back,” he said, leaping at the creature and thrusting the claws into its eyes. The manticore raged blindly, charging and biting into its neighbor.
I felt less sick — my healing magic must have kicked in. Djinn glowed azure and I thrust it forwards. The blade elongated like a spear, drilling into two of the creatures before I willed it back to its regular size.
I felt the atmosphere pop, a telltale sign that someone was abo
ut to cast a wide-area spell. Darkness billowed from the ceiling like an ink blot, expanding until it covered every wall, floor and ceiling. With it, I felt my magic ebb. My fatigue doubled and I wasn’t able to block a paw swat from a manticore.
A manticore twice the size of the others loomed over me, tail arced high, while its fangs were uncomfortably close.
Holy magic emanated from Ezekiel and the fatigue I felt in my bones faded long enough for me to muster the energy to thrust my short sword upwards into the manticore’s mouth. The tip of the blade glowed a faint blue as it emerged from the top of the monster’s head.
“ERIK!” Abi screamed.
I snapped my head to look at her. Surrounding her and Jack were creatures that I hadn’t seen in years.
Standing two meters tall with scaly moss green skin and reptilian snouts, the Lizardmen crept ever closer to the pair. They put up a good fight but I knew firsthand that Lizardmen that size were tougher than they looked.
“Amaymon,” I yelled, trying to draw his attention to the new situation. He was no where to be seen — presumably buried in a sea of guts and horrors.
“Ezekiel,” I cried.
The angel was panting on the ground. His wings were flared open but I guess the toll of using his own magic, as opposed to the the juice he got directly from Heaven, was too much for him. Especially given that he’d kept his protection spell going on for this long.
“Alpha team, contact.”
The explosion rattled my bones. A hail of bullets rained down on the Lizardmen. Armed men threw potions and enchanted chains on the downed creatures, securing them.
The air around me thinned out and I struggled to breathe. The manticores backed away, swaying their heads to and fro, slowly asphyxiating.
A finger snap.
The nearest manticore made a choking noise before its neck exploded. The same happened to each manticore, their necks and lungs ruptured violently.
Mephisto walked in view, tutting gleefully.
“For shame, Master Erik. I taught you better than that. And you, brother, letting your master get hurt like that. For shame.”
Amaymon wiped gore from his person. “Eat a dick, Mephisto.”
I stood up and retrieved my gun. Fortunately by then, my left hand had regrown. “We don’t have time for this.”
“I agree,” came Gil’s voice.
My sister carefully rappelled from a zip line and straightened her cloak. She brandished a meter-long length of dark wood, carved in runes and sigils.
A druidic wand. I whistled. That was one rare weapon.
“Nice toy,” I told her.
“Compliment my choices later, brother,” Gil said. “Right now we have a mission to complete.”
“Got my note did you?”
“Next time you attempt something like this, please inform me before you attack the enemy stronghold.”
“You’d have said no.”
She huffed. “That’s because I have common sense.”
Amaymon chuckled and looked at his brother. “Remember when they said they ain’t got time for our banter?”
“I get it,” I said. “What’s the plan Gil?”
She looked around at her forces, and my team. “Alpha team, secure the building.” She waited until they had left and gave me a dark look. “I can track the Grigori but I can’t let my men know. One of them might leak the information.”
“What?” I asked. “The Grigori?” I remembered the phone call. “Greede said he had them — you mean he captured them? All of them?”
Gil shook her head. “Only those guarding the succubus. It’s her he’s after.”
“My mom,” Abi said.
“We’ll get her back,” I assured her. “Gil?”
My sister turned to her familiar. “Mephisto.”
The demon bowed. “As you wish, Master Gil.” His form shimmered and a giant black dog took his place. “Follow me please.”
Everywhere Mephisto took us we heard the sounds of battle. Gil’s men had swept the building, taking out any creature that might impede our mission.
Finally, Mephisto reached the top floor.
“Do you feel that?” I asked.
Everyone nodded.
“That’s Greede,” I said. “His magic is powerful and foul. Stay together, keep your eyes open, and get ready to hit hard and fast. Don’t be a hero — hit and run.”
Everyone nodded again. The tension between us was palpable. Even the demon and the angel were quiet.
“Go,” Gil ordered.
Mephisto lowered his canine head. A gust of wind threw the doors open and we found ourselves in a wide, void room.
Inside, Akasha and Jared sat bound and gagged on two chairs.
We rushed in, ready for the trap to spring. I went up to Akasha and removed her gag.
“No,” she said. “It’s a trap.”
“Where?”
“Everywhere!”
His chuckle echoed before he came in view. Alan Greede materialized out of nowhere, with Ishtar and a strange creature in tow.
“She’s right,” he said.
He snapped his fingers and the space around us warped.
Chapter 22
I was officially fed up with being trapped in barriers.
“This is the part where I tell you that you can struggle all you want,” Greede said. “But you already know that.” He looked directly at me. “Although, by all means, conduct your own tests. Rage and roar and hit and blast at it — you’ll still be trapped.”
“Are you gonna talk us to death?” I asked.
Greede beamed at me. “Kinda. I really like the sound of my own voice. I like to think of myself as really charming.”
“So is every used car salesman,” I retorted. “They’re still dicks.”
“Descending to insults already, Mr. Ashendale?”
“For you, Greede, always.”
“What do you want with us?” Gil snapped, interrupting the childish, yet fun, banter.
“A spoilsport as always, Miss Ashendale,” Greede said, with an exasperated sigh.
Gil glared at him but said nothing.
“Fine, be that way,” Greede went on. “You should know however that all of you are part of my grand plan. Well, some of you anyway. But it’s always nice to have guests drop by for entertainment purposes.”
“The hell are you talking about?” I spat.
Greede pointed at me.
“You, Mr. Ashendale, are the catalyst to my power. Your sister and the Grigori are who I am going to use to make sure you do exactly what I want.” He nodded at Abi and Jack. “The girl’s mother is instrumental to my current project but having her daughter front and center made it all so personal. The elemental… well, I have no use for him.”
“Dunno if I should be relieved or insulted,” Jack mumbled.
“And let’s not forget about the demons,” Greede went on. “Two of the legendary elemental brothers, ripe for my taking after I… Wait, where’s the other one?”
I looked around me. Amaymon was right next to me, grinning as usual. Mephisto was nowhere to be seen.
Even more disturbing, my sister mirrored his smirk.
“It took you long enough,” she said.
“Where’s the second demon?” Greede demanded.
“My familiar,” Gil said, “is halfway across the country right now. I daresay he’s assembling the Knights of the Order of the Grigori at this moment.”
“The Knights?” Jared said, from next to her. “How the hell do you know where they are?”
“She spied on us,” Akasha deduced.
Gil nodded. “Much like you spied on me.” She turned to leer at Greede. “Any time now, my men downstairs will be reenforced by a battalion of Paladins.”
“I can’t believe you would do that,” Jared said. “Spying on us, assuming control of the Order. How dare you?”
Gil sighed. “Jared, with all due respect, you spied on me first-”
“We were well
within our rights.”
“-And you are here solely because you didn’t listen to the one person who knows what they’re doing,” Gil added nodding at me.
Wow. Thanks Gil.
“Which is both shocking,” Gil continued, “and a testament to how lax the Grigori have become.”
Scratch that. Only my sister could set up a compliment only to eviscerate you with it. It’s like her superpower.
Greede chuckled. “Wow, this is like an episode of Game of Thrones. Minus the nudity and incest, of course.”
“So you set this whole thing up to get us all in the room,” I told him. “But you still haven’t told us why. It’s not to kill us, is it?”
He clapped mockingly. “Very astute, Mr. Ashendale. No, I could have killed you a thousand times over, but what you be the fun in that?”
I shrugged. “I might have fun killing you.”
Greede tutted. “Now, now. I went through all this trouble to get you to play ball with me. At least let me reveal my grand plan.”
He looked behind him.
Ishtar had her hands to her sides and she looked down. Faded bruises marked her face and neck, no doubt a souvenir from our fight with Berphomet and whatever the Grigori put her through afterwards.
But it was her eyes that scared me. Gone was the cocky, confident demoness. This was a broken and defeated woman, enslaved to a power higher than hers.
It suddenly dawned on me why Greede set up this whole thing. Yeah, he had more power than anyone here, so why didn’t he just fight us and get it over with?
Greede wanted to break us, but not physically. He wanted the most powerful wizards and magic-users around to know he was top dog. He wanted to sap our will to fight.
And anyone who plays that game is hiding something.
Greede needed something specific from us, something he could not get by simply beating it out of us.
I looked at him just as he motioned at the creature standing behind him like a sentinel.
At least seven feet tall, broad shouldered, and muscular, the man looked like he had been chiseled out of jet black marble and carved into Michelangelo’s wet dream. Whatever he was made out of, it was black, solid and gleamed under the fluorescent lighting. His head was smooth and bald, and the creature wore no clothes. Didn’t need to, not with the Ken-doll anatomy he had going on downstairs.
