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can’t blame them too much since I don’t reckon any of them knew save for the Almighty Himself, and I suspect even that’s a recent thing. Seems old Uncle Lou fudged a couple entries in the family tree along the way. Guess that explains why they’re worried, huh? The fiery throne has an heir, at last.”
    Katon shrugged Scarlett off and squared up.
    I gave him a wink. “Turns out you might have been right about me, Katon. I’m the Devil’s seed. You might also want to keep a close eye on Wings there. She’s been cavorting with the Anti-Christ her entire life. Never know when she might break bad.”
    “Enough,” Katon shouted. The blade of his sword gleamed as he advanced.
    “Enough indeed,” I answered. “Since none of you came here to help, how about you take a hike?”
    “Frank, wait…there’s—”
    I cut Scarlett off as she inched forward behind the enforcer. “Seriously, I’m not in the mood for an intervention. Take the hint and get to steppin’. You’re not welcome here.”
    “You don’t get to decide that, Frank.” Rahim’s magic danced across my senses. It was a warning.
    It was also the wrong thing to do.
    “No, I have every right, Rahim.” My own power ramped up and knocked his aside, a leaf on a blustery day. “By the laws of succession, Baalth dead at my hands, I claim Old Town as mine .”
    Symbols appeared in my head, a puzzle that sorted itself in the blink of an eye, the pieces sliding into place to reveal the whole. My fingers twitched under a spell I hadn’t even realized I cast until it boiled over.
    “Begone!”
    A mystical storm roared out of me, and they were just that: gone.
    Rahim, Katon, and Scarlett disappeared without a sound.
     

Four
     
    Standing stiff amidst the tumble of dead bodies, I only wished I could chase away the anger so easily. Maybe it was something Longinus had carried inside him, the burden of his power passed on to me when I blew his brains out, the prize in the bottom of the soul transfer cereal box. Whatever it was, I couldn’t catch my breath and my skull was fit to explode.
    Fury clutched at my throat, and I could hear my voice spewing out ragged, feral gasps as my lungs struggled for air. The heat at my cheeks pushed out across my face, engulfing my nose and eyes and forehead like Poland beneath the blitzkrieg. There was no escaping it. My temples throbbed, drum beats rolling. I was so mad I couldn’t see straight.
    All I knew was that I wasn’t tired anymore, the volcanic rage having washed away my weariness. Left in its place was a hunger that gnawed at my nerves, spurring me on in search of satisfaction. For what, I had no clue, but it was an insistent itch that demanded scratching. One of those where you draw blood ripping away the skin yet can never quite satisfy.
    My gaze fell on Gimpy, the switchblade handle protruding from his ear. He’d stabbed himself in the head to keep from telling me who he worked for.
    “Stupid shit.”
    I kicked him over so I didn’t have to see his lolling tongue, but his million-mile stare got me thinking. Any guy who would kill himself rather than reveal his boss had to be scared shitless. That meant there was somebody at the top of the food chain with some power. While it didn’t feel right taking my frustrations out on DRAC or Scarlett, even with as much as they pissed me off, I had no problem contemplating an ass whoopin’ for the punk who’d moved into Old Town while I was on alien safari.
    I forced out a slow, cleansing breath at the idea and shook my hands to chase away the tingles that hummed at my fingertips. Gimpy might not have given up his boss, but now that I thought about it, I didn’t really need a name. A quick glance over the bodies that littered the street told me I already had everything I needed. Rather than waste time hunting down some nameless phantom lurking behind the curtain, I had a better idea. Why not rip the castle down around him. A low chuckle spilled from my mouth as I