Legacy First Trilogy Box Set: Books 1-3 of the Legacy Series

by Ryan Attard

  "Are you a practitioner?" I asked.

  "Yes," she replied. "Yes, I am."

  "So, that's why you gave me your name," I said.

  "We don't like it when people fuck around with us," Amaymon said threateningly.

  "No, no, I swear. What I said is all true." She had her hands in the air and all pretense was now gone.

  "And Abigail?" I asked. "She a practitioner, too?"

  "No, she's not."

  "Then what is she?"

  Gracie looked from the cat to me and closed her eyes, like she was betraying some sort of secret.

  "She's a succubus."

  There was a stunned pause.

  "A succubus?" I looked at her intently. "Do you even know what that is?"

  "I do. And you could use a couple around here, Erik," shot the cat.

  Ouch. Kitty, one. Wizard, zero.

  Gracie rolled her eyes and gave me an annoyed look. "Of course I know what that is. She's a temptation demon."

  Temptation—that was a nice way of saying people drool over her.

  Succubii were half-demons, and their main power was seducing people into breeding with them. They're not the most social of monsters, usually popping up when they had an itch to scratch and then would disappear again. Which begs the question: what the hell was a succubus doing at a college dorm?

  I mean, I heard stories about college parties, but this was just taking it too far.

  "Why is a succubus in your dorm?" I asked with a chuckle. "Are you guys some sort of supernatural sorority or something?"

  Gracie gave me look that Clint Eastwood would have been proud of.

  "No. There's no sorority," she replied icily. "It's just me who knows about magic. Abigail has no idea what she is. She's only nineteen."

  Succubii generally manifest around the age of twenty. That's when their sex drive takes over and they start humping their way through life. Until then, they're pretty much regular folk.

  Very pretty, very sexy, regular folk.

  "Are you going to tell her?" I asked seriously.

  "I don't know," she said, shaking her head. "She's different, you know? I read somewhere that her kind exhibit signs of sociopathy, but she's the sweetest person I know. No way she'll become a monster."

  "I'm not in the business of protecting monsters," I replied.

  The implication was clear. I would kill the succubus if she became dangerous. I was even considering killing her now when she still hadn't killed anyone, but the virtuous side of me decided to let her commit a crime before executing her.

  Innocent until proven guilty and all that.

  But the ruthless side of me knew that human justice did not apply to monsters. Once her instincts took over, she would kill. Better to prevent a crime rather than wait for one and give chase.

  Gracie’s eyes hardened, matching my expression. "She's not a monster. But she is being targeted by one. She's the victim here, Mr. Ashendale, and unless you help her, she will die."

  I had no reply to that.

  So I decided to deal with one issue at a time. First comes the rescue of a yet-still-innocent girl. Dwelling on moral issues wasn't going to help anyone. I decided to cross that bridge when I was faced with it.

  "She's got you there, Erik," said the cat.

  "Fine," I said. "But if she makes one move out of line, she's dead. You hear me? She gives me any reason to be wary of her and I'll eliminate her on the spot. No warning, no mercy. Got it?"

  Gracie nodded sharply.

  "Okay, then." I sat down on the couch facing her. "Tell me about the white light. What was that?"

  "An angel."

  It took me a whole minute before yelling, "Oh, come on!"

  "I'm sorry," she said. My outburst had caused her to jump in her seat. Amaymon just snickered.

  "An angel? Are you kidding me?" I rubbed the bridge of my nose. "Are you sure?"

  "It told me it was," she replied.

  Huh? It told her?

  Angels weren't exactly known for their social skills. If they ever made it out of Heaven, their home dimension, then it was only to smite some demon. Their sole purpose was to tip the balance of Earth towards order, as opposed to the demons' chaos.

  So, when people came around saying angels talked to them, my first instinct was to check them into a loony house. You've got a better chance of getting probed by aliens from Jupiter than to cross paths with an actual angel, much less have a conversation with one.

  "She ain't lyin', Erik," Amaymon said.

  "Did you summon it?" I asked.

  That tended to happen a lot with practitioners. They see something in a book or grimoire and try it out. Half of the monsters in this world were the result of curious teenagers poking around in the wrong places. Although angels were as heavyweight as you could get. You can't just summon them. They were way too powerful for humans, even for a group of wizards. It just didn't happen.

  "No, it just appeared in a dream. It said its name is Jehudiel and it'll be watching over Abigail," Gracie replied with a casual shrug.

  Clearly she had no idea of the impact of what she was saying. She may as well have said that she had a summer residence in Shamballa and rode to school on Nessie, the Lock Ness Monster.

  I didn't know angels had names. I mean, sure, the Bible is full of them, although most are just symbolic titles, invented by some friar who was eager to impress with his knowledge of Latin, philosophy, and whatever crap the clergy wanted to listen to.

  "What's the big deal?" Gracie asked. "If an angel is protecting her, then it's a good thing, right? I mean they are the good guys."

  "Not exactly," Amaymon said. He sat on her lap. "Angels have their own agenda: conquer through law and order. Not to mention the fact that they are completely obsessed with their war with Hell. If they are showing up here, then it's only a matter of time."

  "Before what?" she said.

  "The apocalypse," Amaymon replied in a spooky tone.

  "Stop scaring the girl, Amaymon," I said.

  "But it's so easy."

  "Give it a rest," I said before turning back to Gracie. "Forget everything he's told you. It's probably a mistake of sorts."

  "They don't make mistakes like that," the cat interjected.

  "Shut up," I shot back. It seemed to work.

  Joking usually made the regular ones question how deep the grave they dug was. It worked even better when you left out the end of the world theories.

  Gracie looked at me, then down at cat. She was going to have one heck of a story to tell. She might even write us in a television pilot: the Wizard and Kitty Show.

  "I'll take the case," I said. "But do yourself a favor and disappear. Find somewhere remote and lather it in as many charms and protective spells as you can."

  "Why?"

  " ‘Cause you're in deep now." I looked at her intently, the humor completely gone from my voice. "You're caught in the middle of a celestial war which humanity has avoided for years. And in every war there is collateral damage, namely people like you. So, run and hide and don't come out until I say so."

  She nodded and rose to leave.

  "Thank you, Mr. Ashendale."

  I waved her off. "Call me Erik. And leave that cheque on the table."

  "The money ain't worth it."

  I waved the cheque at the cat. "You say that now, but wait 'til we're out of food. Besides, I'm kinda curious to see where all this goes."

  "So, what now then?" he asked. "Wait and see what pops out and then shoot it in the face?"

  "You got it," I said as I picked up the phone.

  "Dialing heaven?" Amaymon asked as he hopped on the desk beside the phone.

  "More like Hell on Earth."

  There was a tone dial and Mephisto's cold voice crackled on the other end of the line. "Good morning, Ashendale mansion. How may I help you?"

  " ‘Sup, doggie," I said enthusiastically. "Where's Gil?"

  “Master Gil is busy," he replied. "May I take a message?"

/>   "Yeah, tell her I have an angel running around and that it might be in her best interest to stop ignoring me and PICK UP THE PHONE!"

  That should get her attention. Sure enough, there was a shuffle at the other end as the receiver exchanged hands.

  "What do you want, Erik?"

  Gil was not a happy girl.

  "Hi, Gil." The glee in my voice probably didn't help her mood.

  "What. Do. You. Want?" she growled in a voice that promised my imminent death. As I said, Gil does not like to lose.

  "I got a new case," I said in a chipper tone.

  "Good for you."

  "It involves an angel."

  "How so?"

  "It seems to be protecting someone," I said. Better not include that detail about the succubus. "Ever heard of a Jehudiel?"

  I heard the tapping of a keyboard at the other end. "Seems to be an archangel," she said. Then a few seconds later, "Huh."

  "What?" I asked.

  "Says here he's a Virtue. Never heard of that."

  "Why not ask your bodyguards?" I said, remembering the entourage she had with her.

  "They don't do interviews, Erik." A sigh crackled on the other end of the phone. "Erik, is this so-called person in reality a succubus?"

  Oh, crap.

  "Maybe."

  "Oh, God, Erik."

  "What?"

  "My angels are after the succubus," she said.

  "So, what about this Jehudiel guy?"

  A groan escaped her throat. "I don't know. Maybe we're dealing with a rogue here."

  "A rogue angel?" I asked as I looked at Amaymon. He just cocked his head to one side and remained quiet.

  "Either way, I'm gonna need you to step down from this one," she said.

  "Step down?" I did not like where this was going.

  "Yes," she replied. Her voice suddenly hardened. "A word of warning: we're going after this succubus. Do not stand in my way."

  "Or what?" I challenged.

  "Or I'll crush you, too."

  All that was missing was the theme from The Good, the Bad and The Ugly playing in the background.

  "Why are you doing this, Gil?"

  "Because I have to," she spat. "Because this goes all the way to the top. There are things in play here that far outweigh whatever case you have. So, listen well: Drop. The. Case."

  She shouldn't have said that. I don't follow orders, ever. It's like telling a kid not to do something. They end up doing exactly what you tell them not to.

  If this went all the way to the top, then it was no longer in Gil's hands. And as much as she irritates me, I'd much rather she be the top dog around here. Whoever she was answering to might not have the Earth's best interest in mind.

  And that did not sit well with me at all.

  If the angels were in charge, then all was lost already. But I had the feeling she was getting pressure from a third party, someone deep in the shadows but powerful enough to force the Ashendale leader into action.

  Someone like a super secret organization of wizards with whom Gil had ties with. These guys were so paranoid that even uttering their name could get you in serious trouble.

  Either way, I wasn't about to drop the case. If anything, I wanted to see this until the end.

  "No way, sis," I challenged. "I'm seeing this through."

  "Funny you should say that. Good luck then, brother."

  She hung up the phone just as Amaymon waded in. "So what's our next - Erik, duck!"

  But his warning registered too late.

  A series of explosions went through my office. Shrapnel flew in every corner as bullets ripped into my arm and side. I threw myself painfully on the ground and my lungs felt as if they were on fire.

  I felt my healing powers take effect. Projectiles were ejected from my arm. They weren't the usual deformed bullets, but thin shards of iron shrapnel.

  I heard the sound of boots crunching glass.

  A guy walked in, wearing heavy combat boots and black cargo pants. His biker jacket revealed a bodybuilder's torso.

  I inched beyond the table's edge. His weapon was not a firearm but a long barrel extending from where his forearm should be.

  In his other hand he held a cell phone to his ear.

  "Yeah, boss. I got him. Call you when I'm done here."

  He pocketed his phone. I heard the creaking of metal and watched as his other arm melted and became a long barrel of dark grey iron, matching the one he already had. He sucked in a deep breath and lifted both barrels.

  "Say hello to my little friend!" he hollered in a very bad Pacino impression.

  Shrapnel flew everywhere as the barrels roared like machine-guns.

  "Do you feel lucky, punk?"

  Seriously, how many movies was this guy going to ruin for me today?

  The barrage stopped abruptly and I peaked from behind my cover, just in time to see him slumped over, clearly exhausted.

  Most of my injuries had healed by now and pain was replaced by seething anger. I crouched behind the desk and grabbed the edges. Magic coursed through my body, giving me a burst of strength. The heavy desk was sent flying into the thug, knocking him backwards.

  I ran and jumped over the table, practically landing on the guy. My arm met his neck and drove him to the ground. He landed so hard, he actually cracked the floorboards.

  I leveled my gun at his face.

  "Didn't you get the memo, kid? I'm the only wiseass around here."

  Chapter 10

  The gun roared in my hand and a loud, metallic sound echoed around the office.

  I peered over to see his head completely covered in steel, as if he were some sort of robot. The bullet ricocheted off, leaving only a shallow grove on his forehead.

  "What the hell?"

  A metal-covered fist connected with my hip. I buckled and fell hard.

  We both lay there, moaning in pain.

  "Is that whole no-shirt thing some sorta fashion statement?" I said between clenched teeth.

  "What's wrong with what I wear?"

  "You look like a cross between a biker and that werewolf kid from Twilight," I said.

  "Like you're any better."

  As he said that I saw his arm liquefying and morphing into a long, sharp blade of dark metal. With a grunt he swung his weapon at me. I rolled and managed to avoid being beheaded, but still felt a small cut on my neck. I brought the gun around at the same time that he swung his weapon around, ripping the firearm from my grip.

  A second blade—his other arm—stabbed at me.

  I sidestepped and felt the blade tear through my shirt. I quickly glanced down but saw no permanent damage. Pissed off, I charged at him and lunged.

  My elbow met his nose and I felt something crunching. Still keeping my momentum, I spun, kicked backwards and sent him flying over my shoulder in classic judo throw.

  He landed heavily on his back and I smirked.

  I saw his arms shift shape again, reverting back into guns. These had shorter barrels than the ones he used when he made his entrance. He grunted with effort, lifting his weapons to hip level and gunfire erupted from them. I leapt backwards and crossed my arms.

  Normally I can't use magic without any channels, but I found a loophole to that: a set of crystals placed inside the walls of my office which allowed me to manipulate magic freely inside my own home.

  I crossed my arms and an invisible shield of energy formed in front of me. It robbed the bullets of their kinetic energy, causing them to fall harmlessly on the ground.

  The guy got to his knees and his weapons disappeared.

  "You're tougher than I imagined," he rasped between heavy pants.

  "You're no pushover either," I replied. "For a young elemental anyway."

  "How did you know?" he asked with a growl.

  I could have gone into a Sherlock Holmes-esque explanation. I could have told him that novice elementals had trouble producing their respective element, so they use what's already there. In this case, the iron from
his own blood. All he had to do was multiply it over and over again.

  But what I did say was, "I'm an almighty wizard."

  I laughed at his frustrated look.

  "And I also know you're just about ready to collapse," I continued. His expression confirmed just how spot on I was and I just grinned.

  "Quit while you still can, kid, or else you're in for a world of hurt," I added.

  "Yeah, right."

  I held up two fingers. "I'll knock you out in two strikes. Then, you'll be so impressed with my awesomeness that you'll answer my questions."

  He got to his feet. Metal crept over his body like ink blotting on a piece of paper, slowly encasing his body in dark iron.

  "Screw you," he said in a voice that seemed to echo. It must be the metal around his mouth and throat that gave him his cool robot voice.

  I opened my arms in challenge. "Have it your way, kid."

  He charged at me with a feral snarl.

  I shifted sideways and extended my magic over the area around me. The air became heavy and damp as moisture gathered. A torrent of water crashed into the elemental from all directions, swirling around him in a violent current. He hung suspended in a water prison, gasping for air.

  Soon, the first patches of rust appeared sporadically. The dark spots grew, hindering his powers and movement even more.

  I held up my index finger. "One down."

  Static crackled around me and arced down to my fingertips. Tiny bolts of electricity zapped angrily from my hands. I was grinning so wide, it was hurting my cheeks.

  "Join the Dark Side of the Force," I yelled maniacally.

  I had to admit it, I looked damn cool. Just like a Sith Lord.

  Darth Erik.

  I sent the lightning towards the elemental.

  The water amplified the electricity and the resulting explosion literally rocked the ground. The elemental's metal body acted as a lightning rod, taking in a million of volts of damage.

  There was another, louder explosion and a bright flash of light. The water evaporated and I heard the guy scream. The elemental fell on the ground, twitching erratically. He tried to say something but couldn't get his lungs to work. He shuddered some more and fell to the ground, unconscious. His metallic armor flaked off, revealing the regular shirtless guy beneath. Smoke billowed from his body.