by Ryan Attard
It also stopped me from trying to revive her. My Life Magic could have done it, but that was not the way. The balance of life and death had to be preserved.
It was Akasha’s time — I had to honor that.
“Take good care of her, okay?” I told him.
“Erik,” came Abi’s voice. “Who are you-”
“Let ‘im be,” Amaymon said. I was sure he couldn’t see the angel of death, but you can’t hide that kind of power, especially not from a demon as powerful as he was.
I gently closed her eyes. Reluctantly, I stood up and backed up a single step.
Samael twirled his scythe and brought it down on her. The blade left no mark as it passed through her physical body.
Like the ghost she was, Akasha rose from her body. She looked at me, breaking my heart all over again.
Samael extended his hand, covered in his cloak. Akasha took it, and I saw her disappear for the final time.
“Stick around,” I told Samael.
He turned, cloak rippling.
“Your job is not over yet.”
He nodded but disappeared nonetheless.
“Who…” Abi stopped mid-sentence and just hugged me. It was the first physical contact I had where it was just love. No pain. Just a physical act where one person wanted to support another.
It was exactly what I needed.
“None of you could see him,” I told them, “but that was Samael. The angel of death.”
I looked at Amaymon. He stared back at me, almost daring me. “You killed me,” I said.
He shrugged. “You did say to do what’s best for you.”
“Did you know?” I asked. “About the choice?”
He cocked his head. “Nope. I just knew it was the right thing to do. Choices, that’s a human thing. I just go with the flow, so to speak.”
Gil placed her hand on my shoulder. “We’ll mourn them later, Erik,” she said. “Right now we have a mission to complete.”
“That, we do.”
My shadows latched onto her arm and climbed up, looking for a trigger.
Suddenly my sister was glowing white, and something resembling smoke covered her body like shadows did mine.
“What…?” she began.
“I don’t know,” I said. “But you’re my twin. You got this power too. And we’re gonna need all we can get to defeat Greede.”
She nodded. “We have a lot to talk about once this is over,” she said.
“We do,” I said. “But like you said, the mission comes first. Abi, Jack, Gil, clear this building. Oh, and find out what’s taking Mephisto so long to get the Paladins over here. Gil, you’re the only Grigori member left here. You know what to do.”
She said nothing but nodded.
“Amaymon, you’re with me,” I told him.
“Always,” he said, slapping his fist into his palm.
“I’ll find Greede. You take care of anything in our path,” I said.
“And you?” Abi asked.
I gritted my teeth, and immediately felt them turn into fangs. “I’m gonna find Greede,” I said, in a voice that was deeper and more guttural than my own. “And then I’m gonna kill him for good. One way or another, this ends, right here, right now.”
Chapter 28
Amaymon and I charged along the main corridor.
Even from afar, we could hear the growling and mewling of a hundred chimeras and manticores waiting to devour us.
Fearless, we strode in, and were greeted with a mass of fangs and claws. At the very back, bursting through a set of chrome doors, was Alan Greede. He looked over his shoulder.
“Have fun,” he yelled over the sounds of snarling manticores. A second later, he was running through the doors.
“Erik, wait for an opening,” Amaymon said. “Then go chase that son of a bitch. I’ll handle these kittens.”
His grin reassured me that I had nothing to worry about.
The ground rumbled. Every single creature stopped in its tracks. Even with all of my power, I stopped and watched as well. Amaymon unleashing his powers was like a lion roaring at you — you drop what you’re doing and you fucking pay attention.
In a flash, he was no longer next to me. I could hear the ground tearing as chunks of rock erupted in stalagmites and impaled the monsters. Like a staccato for a soundtrack to a serial killer’s mind, the sounds of ripping flesh, squelching innards and snapped bones echoed throughout the room.
All of a sudden the path ahead of me was clear.
I bolted.
The chrome doors lasted two seconds against my shadow powers as I blasted through. I could have opened them, yes — but I chose not to. Fuck Greede and his money. Let him pay for new doors.
I was back at the corridor, and saw Greede himself running along. Was he trying to double back?
He swore when he saw me. I thrust my magic into Djinn and threw a beam of energy at him. He yelped, nearly losing the Necronomicon. Greede swore again.
Suddenly, the wall next to me exploded and I was flung backwards.
A massive, perfect — but not anatomically correct — human creature came out. The Vensir bones he was made out of glossed under the artificial lighting and he swivelled his blank stare towards me.
“Finish him, Omega,” Greede commanded.
“Eat shit, Omega,” I yelled, shooting another beam of energy at the automaton. The streak of magic blasted into him.
He stood there, almost bemused, and completely unscathed. Then he kicked me. Turns out there was a lot more flying I could do.
My shadows latched onto him. My intention was to pull him along with me, take the fight down to the ground and make it dirty, where I could have had a shot at winning. Instead, my shadows held on to him and, when I pulled, I actually bounced back.
Right into his fist.
As my jaw dislocated and I dove into the ground for the third time in a row, I pulled out my gun and proceeded to pulled the trigger in quick succession. With each pull, my magic intensified within the gun.
Not that it would have mattered. The bullets ricocheted off him, some of which tore into me.
I grabbed Djinn and slashed. The impact on his shin created enough of a dent to send shards of Vensir bone flying. Omega buckled and his attack went wild. I hopped onto my feet, shadows and Djinn’s azure magic swirling together. I swung again. My attack missed his neck and I got him on the collarbone instead. Omega stumbled back, his right side cracked like broken marble.
He swung his fist wild and I barely dodged. He caught me on the shoulder, dislocating it and sent me backwards. I stumbled three steps, while my healing magic popped my shoulder back in place.
Suddenly, I fell down on my knees. The pulsating waves of psionic magic emanated from Omega’s head like the incessant wailing of a baby in distress.
Blood trickled from my nose and I screamed. My shadows flailed wildly. They tore deep groves into the already messed up walls. Once or twice I even hit Omega himself, lashing across his impenetrable body. The mental screaming only intensified.
“Shut the fuck up.”
A second wave of psychic energy blasted into Omega and the guy literally cartwheeled backwards.
A flash of red and gold.
Abi swung her staff at him, augmenting her strike telekinetically, and Omega raised his hand, only for his entire hand to shatter. She hopped back as he roared and swung again. An instant later, his hand was reattached.
Abi offered me a hand.
“Leave him to me,” she said.
“No. He’s too dangerous.” I picked up my weapons. “I can hurt him too. Just keep doing that mind thing you’re doing.”
“I believe it’s called psychic magic.”
Ishtar’s presence was marked by a third, stronger, blast of psychic energy. One that made Omega fall to his knees.
“And if you think I shall let my daughter face that creature alone,” she told me, “then you are dumber than I thought, Mr. Ashendale.”
Abi
smiled at her mother, before apparently remembering she was supposed to be mad at her. Ishtar caught the frown and sighed.
“I know I was a pretty terrible mother,” she said. “I have a lot to make up for.”
“You helped make that thing,” Abi accused, pointing at Omega.
“That was not my intention,” Ishtar snapped defensively. “But you are right. I helped make it. Which is why I shall now help destroy it.”
“If you wish to help, back me up,” Abi said.
“Always,” her mother replied.
My apprentice grinned at me. “See, we have it all-”
Omega punched her in the face and Abi went flying.
“Abi!” I charged Djinn with magic and shadows and attacked Omega. At the same time, Ishtar used every ounce of psychic magic to mentally attack the creature. Together, we managed to mount a good counter offensive. I managed to score two hits on him, one to the ribs, the other lopping off his right foot at the ankle.
Sun Wo Kung, Abi’s sentient golden staff, boomeranged into him, creating a deep gong-like sound upon impact. Omega snatched the staff out of the air and I heard Abi yell in effort.
Omega was propelled forwards as if the staff weighted a thousand pounds, and crushed his entire hand.
I didn’t squander the opportunity. My gun was primed and charged, shadows canvasing it. I shot him point blank in the temple. The hole was a through and through, and I was staring at a penny sized hole at the opposite wall through his skull.
Omega groggily swayed.
“What the fuck does it take to put you down?” I yelled, pulling the trigger a second time.
The gun clicked empty. I reloaded but the opportunity was gone and I leapt away.
“Erik, we need a home stretch,” Abi said. “Remember what you did to Lilith?”
Of course I remembered. It was essentially a juiced up version of my crescent-shaped long range attack. Except this time it would have to be short range, since as soon as magic leaves the body it starts getting weaker. Any attack that powerful would have a pretty rapid half-life, which meant it had to be close and personal.
And I could do close and personal.
Only, this was a psionic creature, inside a tough mother of a suit. The physical body, in spite of the pain it was putting me through, I could handle.
It was that mental plane creature that might be the wild card.
So I did something I never thought was possible. At least, certainly not in the old days when I wanted nothing but to bury this power. I remembered what I had told Dark Erik: this power wasn’t just for me.
I reached out and grabbed Abi’s hand. Shadows swirled around our hands, reaching out over her flesh. She was too surprised to say anything.
“I’m giving you a portion of my power,” I said. “Don’t ask me how, I just am.”
“Erik,” she began. “It feels so… so…”
“I know.”
Life Magic was a thrill. Even a little bit of it can work wonders on you.
To someone new to it, the sensation was of drinking a thousand Red Bulls and getting a massage all at once. It was feeling exactly right, no pains or aches, or minor tugs at the back of your mind telling you to sit up straight or eat your vegetables because you look a little grey.
This was the source of magic, the first of them all. This was where it all began. The magic that gave life, the magic that shaped the goddamn multiverse.
In short, transcendental meditation had nothing on me.
Abi’s eyes seemed to twinkle. A tear streaked down her face.
“Shape it,” I told her. “The magic won’t last. Make it yours and use it.”
She nodded. The shadows I left on her were barely enough to cover a clenched fist, but like I said, a little goes a long way. Blackness thinned out on the back of her hand, forming the most intricate, delicate and badass Henna tattoo I’d ever seen.
Of course. Leave it to Abi to take something I thought was a curse and turn it into art.
“Pretty,” she said with a little giggle. “I can feel it augmenting my magic.”
“Good.” I looked at Ishtar. “I need the two of you to start wailing on that thing with as much psychic power you can muster.”
Both succubi nodded.
The blast of mental energy was not directed at me but I still felt it. It was like standing two inches away from a speeding train.
Omega fell on the ground.
I held Djinn at my hip, point facing back. Every last ounce of magic I had, every emotion I had piled on until now, all went inside that sword. Djinn’s short sword blade glowed as magic piled on top of magic, natural azure and Life Magic shadows forming an energy blade that swelled with every breath I took.
Before long, my magic was enough to make breathing impossible, sucking all the oxygen from the room. I was getting tunnel vision but I kept my focus.
I stepped forwards. My magic warped space and was suddenly on top of Omega, yelling, screaming, and swinging.
The massive, mastodonic sword knocked back Abi and Ishtar, cleaved through the ceiling and smashed into Omega, shattering his body into tiny little pieces.
And just like that the magic was gone and I could breathe again.
I fell on my ass, expecting to see shadows flaring upon impact. Instead, I caught a glimpse at my hands.
Normal.
I had returned back to normal!
I was about to turn and whoo in celebration — even though I am most certainly not the kind of person who whoos under most circumstances — when an explosion of psychic energy went off.
I felt it, this entity of pain and sorrow, confusion and anger. I felt it screaming as it roamed a plane that was not its home, a consciousness that was never meant to exist.
An aberration.
And it headed straight for me.
Abi stepped in front of me. Her mother threw herself at her, and both of them shielded me.
For a few seconds my mind went blank. Light blinded me.
Then, silence.
I blinked several times until I regained my vision. Abi was holding her unconscious mother, slapping her lightly in the face.
“She won’t wake up,” she said.
“What happened?”
“We pushed back the entity,” Abi said. “I think we killed it, or sent it back. I’m not sure but it’s gone.” She looked at her mother. “Mom. Mom please wake up.”
I saw Ishtar’s lips twitch in a smile.
“Mom, please wake up,” Abi said. She leaned in. “I love you.”
“Ah hah.” Ishtar grinned and got up much to Abi’s disbelief. “I knew you loved me. Just took a little death defying on my behalf.”
Abi’s face turned as red as her hair. She started shaking on the spot. “You… fucking…”
“Use your words, honey.”
Abi made a hissing sound. “You are incorrigible. And a liar. And a manipulative skank.”
Ishtar grinned. “We are what we are.” She looked at me. “Now, don’t you have my employer — or should I say, former employer — to catch?”
I looked at Abi. “Go,” she said. “Finish this.”
I took one last look at them.
Then I left.
Chapter 29
By some token of karma — or perhaps this was the universe re-aligning itself — I found Greede in his office.
The room was the same as I remembered it last time I was in here. Chrome and silver furniture, black marble and futuristic-looking knickknacks on the desk. A series a neatly stacked hardcovers, collectors editions by the looks of them, were packed inside a windowed wardrobe. The glass on the windows came an angle, distorting the last two inches of the books’ spines.
Behind his desk, Greede’s oversized leather chair was turned so all I could see was the back. His reflection grinned at the window, a massive floor-to-ceiling pane of glass that surveyed an entire landscape, like a king looking over his domain.
Greede looked up, noticing my reflection
in the mirror. He raised a tumbler of whiskey.
“There’s more in the decanter,” he said. “If you wanna join me.”
I was exhausted.
Beyond exhausted.
That last spell on Omega had drained everything out of me. Even so, my curse power started taking effect again. The shadows crawled over my body, slowly, as if they too were tired. My skin darkened and I saw my eyes flash red on my reflection.
Whatever this power was, it had a cost. All magic does. Equivalent exchange, the universal equilibrium.
Or, as I often heard regular people say, ‘There ain’t no free lunch.’
Djinn was in its sheath. I could feel the blade pulsating weakly. My magic was overtaxing it.
My brand new gun, however, was just fine. I unholstered it, pulled back the slide to make sure it was properly loaded and transferred it to my main hand.
I went over to the decanter, and poured myself a drink. Greede was still looking at me through the mirror, glass raised. I raised mine and knocked it back.
Then I shot him.
Greede moaned. He pressed his hand against the clean hole in his head, then fingered the hole my bullet had made in the windowpane.
“Aw, man,” he said, finally turning around. The whiskey tumbler had slipped form his grip when I fired. “Do you know how much this is gonna cost to repair?”
I held my gun steady. My first instinct was to empty the clip in him, but clearly that wasn’t going to cut it. I had to wait for the right opportunity.
“You won’t live to find out,” I said.
He sighed. The Necronomicon materialized in his hands, and he set it down on the desk with a bored expression etched on his face.
“You know,” he said, as he lazily began flipping pages on the book, “we could have been friends, you and I. We could have joined forces, made the world go round whichever way we wanted. I’m sure you have some kind of desire.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “Is it just me or did you get one heck of suntan?”
I pulled the trigger, firing at the Necronomicon. The bullet tore through the page and an etherial scream pierced the air.