But that wasn’t what Mother had in mind.
“You will break the world, my son. You will tear the sky asunder.”
She wanted me to burn heaven and earth. See, demons don’t play nice with, well, just about everybody else. Annihilation sounds fun, sure. But what good was a world full of ashes, one too dead to praise me and fear my power? Razing the planet sounded cool, I suppose, but arcane mastery? That was the ticket. I didn’t want to break the world. I wanted to rule it.
I licked my lips, my hand trembling as I reached for the Testament, its pages emanating waves of ancient power. A bead of sweat rolled down the tip of my nose. Was I excited? Understatement of the century. My heart pounded as my fingers brushed the edge of the lectern.
Then, from behind me, a click.
“Hold it right there.”
I should have known this was too easy.
2
“Step away from the pedestal, pretty boy.”
I did as I was told, but not without some sass. “Not my fault I’m so pretty.” I tossed my head of hair. Shampooed twice a week, conditioned once, with a clarifying rinse twice a month. Air dried and untouched by styling tools, to avoid heat damage. Thanks for asking.
“Very funny,” the man said, glowering at me. It was the same sorcerer I’d described, the man of the house, in the flesh. He trained his gun at my chest, his arm steady, and presumably his aim as well.
I put up my hands. “Come, now. A gun? That’s not how this works between our people. A little primitive of you, don’t you think?”
The sorcerer’s mustache twitched. “But I’m the one holding the primitive gun. Loaded, I assure you. I’d tone it down if I were you, boy. I don’t take kindly to criminals.”
I flinched, clearing my throat. “You must have me mistaken for a common thief. I’m a collector, sir. A gentleman, like you, come to take what’s mine.”
“Fine.” The man’s jowls quivered as his frown deepened. “Then let’s settle this like gentlemen.”
The thunder of the gunshot was my only warning. The bullet slammed into my chest, taking me off my feet, sending me crashing into a bookcase and falling to the ground under what felt like an avalanche of encyclopedias. The only pain was from my shoulder slamming against the carpeted floor – a small inconvenience compared to how much worse off I could have been.
I felt the bullet’s impact against my left pectoral, but that was the worst of it. The gunshot had completely drowned out the sound of my shielding spell shattering. Even better, my blanket of books meant that the sorcerer would have to poke around to check if I was bleeding to death.
My limbs went limp as I quietly stilled myself, doing my very best impersonation of a corpse. I watched through piles of pages and old unused reference books as the sorcerer approached cautiously, matching the sounds of his footfalls to his every step. He wore finely shined leather oxfords with the laces neatly tied. I grinned, making the subtlest gestures with my fingers, then whispered.
“Ignis.”
A tiny bolt of flame shot out of my hand, setting the man’s shoelaces on fire and starting a merry magical blaze that spread quickly up his pants. His gun thudded to the ground as he yelped, hopping on one foot and beating uselessly at his leg and crotch.
Perfect. I bolted out from under the pile of books, reaching for the closest weapon I could use to disable him. I wasn’t planning to kill the man, just hurt him enough so he couldn’t fight back. My fingers closed around the base of the lectern and I whispered a quick apology as the Testament slipped to the floor. The sorcerer yelped again, caught between literally saving his skin as the flames continued to spread and rescuing his prized tome.
I took two steps to clear the room, then swung the lectern like a croquet mallet.
Hey, I could go primitive, too.
The crack the wood made against his skull was deeply satisfying. His eyes rolled up and he toppled to the ground like an overturned barrel. I’d aimed straight for his head. I guess it struck him less like a mallet and more like a sledgehammer, actually. I rolled my shoulders and stretched my arms out. Good thing I had a gym room put into my dimension. Hate working out, but you gotta do what you gotta do.
Listen. I might use magic for basically everything, but a good magus uses every tool at his disposal. It wouldn’t do to leave myself physically frail and defenseless. The demon half of me brought its own perks, sure, but none of those perks involve surviving a bullet to the face.
I snapped my fingers, instantly dousing the flames from the sorcerer’s body. Then I bent over carefully to collect the Testament, tucking it in the crook of my arm like it was my own child and cooing little apologies for letting it touch the floor. When I was sure the sorcerer wasn’t about to get up again, I dropped his splintered lectern next to his mostly motionless body. His head was bleeding a little, but I was sure he was going to be fine.
Probably. Maybe.
Whistling happily to myself, I hugged the Testament to my chest in both arms then tapped into the Hexus: the demonic helleportation network. Time to go home. I nudged the man with my foot as I felt the magic tug me out of reality. He groaned and shifted in place.
“Next time, don’t bother with a wooden stand, or anything that people can bash you in the head with. Thanks for the Testament.”
The sorcerer groaned again. I chuckled as my body faded out of the house and into the ether.
See? Told you. I love hammers.
3
The hellevator dinged, the
