Alastor sighs deeply and rubs his face with his hand, then focuses his attention on me. He opens his mouth, but is interrupted by Gnat.

“My Lord, I–” Gnat begins.

“Silence!” Alastor growls, cutting him off. “You have done enough.”

“Yes, My Lord. Apologies.” Gnat bows low.

Alastor locks eyes with me and continues. “Events affecting you have been set in motion because of me. I, in my position as a Lord of the Pit, have signaled my intent to choose a successor. Hierarchy laws dictate that my successor be any of my full-blooded demon children, but I have none. So it falls on my half-blood children. These laws of the Pit further require a sort of battle royale amongst my living half-demonic offspring to show supremacy. Once this has resolved, either through the elimination or domination of others, a successor is named.

“This named demonspawn will then become versed in the politics of the Pit and will be groomed for the position. This entails a fair amount of combat and immersion into political intrigue. It will also require extensive training in the use of any demonic gifts or otherworldly abilities. This contest between blood children has often taken years to complete, depending on how many children the Lord sired. It can only have one clear winner. Do you understand what I have told you?”

He finally stops talking. My fingers have been massaging my temples since he said the word 'successor.' This is not my jam, and I want nothing to do with it. I need to know how many could be coming for me.

“How many children have you 'sired'?” I ask, bringing my hands down.

“I am sorry, Mikael. But that is too much information to give you. As far as I know, none of you know exactly how many others there are.”

“Can I refuse to fight?”

“Of course you can, but that does not mean that the others will refuse to fight you.”

I growl in frustration. I thought maybe, just maybe I'd be done after Rhal. But damn, he's telling me that I've got to look forward to demonic intervention from here on out. Even if I survive, my reward is essentially an internship in hell.

Yipee, what a prize.

“You have to know by now that this is not something I want.”

“I am aware. You made that very clear the last time we spoke, but it does not matter. As a demonspawn, you do not have a choice.”

“Yeah, I figured you were gonna say something like that,” I say. “Well, if you can't offer help, what can you do?”

“I have done what I can. As I said, my own forces are engaged elsewhere.”

“You do keep saying that, but I don't know what you mean.”

“Mikael, I know that you think that I purposefully interfere with your life, but you are wrong.”

“How so?”

“Do you care?” he asks.

I have trouble reading his expression, but he looks… eager? “That depends. Is there potential for whatever's happening to spill over into my world?” I ask.

His face changes back to the flat expression he'd previously had. “Yes,” he says.

“Then I'd like to know.”

“Very well,” he says. “Within the Pit, there are two leading factions here that have been inching ever closer to an explosively violent outcome. While confrontation within the Hierarchy is normal, these two powers threaten to send the Pit and its denizens into an all-out civil war. This could definitely spill into your world.”

“Over what?”

“The usual, I suppose. Power, territory, wealth, status. If this continues, we will be fighting a war to keep the spread of our direct influence from going beyond our world.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning that, instead of casting out our influence through agents in your world–people like yourself–there are those that prefer a more direct approach.”

“Does that mean…”

“Yes. If the Lords opposing the natural order have their way, they will move forward with declarations of war with your world. And they are willing to take as many lives here as necessary to achieve their goals. I am certain they know of the old pacts that are meant to prevent such a thing, but they will eschew them. If these Lords win, they will no doubt attempt to break very old laws.”

I think for a moment about what that could mean–demonic invasion on a worldwide scale. But it's already happening in a way, with the wizards burning and melting. I look at the desk and grab a pen and the nearest sheet of paper I can find, drawing the demonic rune that was burned into their skin from memory. It's not hard. I can't get their screams or their faces out of my mind. Gnat gasps when I hold the paper up in front of the portal.

“Do you know what this is?” I ask.

Alastor's flat expression changes rapidly. His upper lip pulls back from his teeth in a snarl. “Where did you get that?”

“We fought a group of wizards,” I tell him. “When we had them subdued, this brand burnt into their skin, and they exploded in what was essentially a mini magic volcano. The heat was too intense even for me.”

Alastor growls–like, really growls–and looks to my side. “Gnat, where are you?”

“I am here, My Lord,” he says, inching closer but still out of view.

“When Mikael is finished with you, you are to return to me immediately.”

“As you say, My Lord.”

“Mikael, though I may not have the right, I will request that he is still fit to serve after you render your punishment. I have some planning to do and cannot take the extra time to find a new servant.”

“What? Hey, what does this mean?” I ask, looking at the paper.

“I would not draw that rune again, especially with any intent behind it. It is a brand of willing supplication. Those wizards willingly gave of themselves and were sacrificed in hopes of disposing of you. Once that rune is upon you, it can be activated like theirs were. It is a means of control and, unfortunately, it also means that wizards and demons are working together. They both wish to bring the will of the Lords I am fighting against, to fruition.”

“That's what Vithar said might be happening.”

“Be very careful, my son. I must go. This information must be disseminated.”

“Wait, I–” I start, but the portal disperses in front of me.

“Lord Mikael,” Gnat says, kneeling in front of me, “I am prepared for your punishment so that I may return to your father.”

I look down at the little demon and shake my head. I pity this guy. This is his life, like, every day. I don't want to do anything to him anymore. He may have nearly killed Anna, but she took it out on him already. I just want him to go away. “I have nothing for you, Gnat. Leave.”

“My Lord,” he says, looking up at me. “That will not do. Lord Alastor left me to your punishment, and I must receive it.”

(Beast punish it?) the Hound asks eagerly.

Gnat winces.

“No, no,” I say to it. “Fine.” I reach down and flick his ear. “You have received my punishment. Go away and don't come back.”

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He rises to his feet and just stares at me. I make a fake lunge at him, and he flinches back. “Go!” I yell, and he does. The Hound whines as Gnat scrambles around me to grab the circle on the table then leaves the room. I look down at the Hellhound and sigh.

“Well, I guess you're mine now. We've gotta work on a name. I can't just call you Beast or Hound,” I say. The Hound changes to its dog form and looks up at me, panting, with its tongue hanging out of the side of its mouth. There's a quick surge of energy from the other room, and I don't feel Gnat's aura anymore. I check my phone to make sure that no fires were started while I talked to Alastor. I have no missed calls or notifications.

“Finally, a moment's peace,” I say, then hope I didn't just jinx myself.

I poke my head out the doorway to check the waiting room. Gnat has fully disappeared and I make my way out. Opening the car door for my new pet, I close the door with a sigh then get in myself. The Hound sticks its head out the window as I pull away and we start the drive back home. I give the beast my rules for it to stay with me. It takes most of the drive for me to answer its ‘What qualifies as murder?’ questions. It's not too happy with them, but it doesn't have to be. Thems is the rules. I have a short list of names in my head and start to fire them off for its approval.

“Fang?”

(Tooth? Not like.)

“Killer?”

It huffs. (Against rules,) It pouts.

“Muffins?”

(What is Muffins?)

“Muffins are a baked good.”

(What is baked good?)

“Nevermind. Uh, Hot dog?” I say, bursting into laughter. I'm hilarious.

(What is–) the Hound starts, but I interrupt.

“Nothing.”

(Beast not dog,) it says.

“Why do you call yourself 'Beast'?” I ask.

It looks up to me and tilts its head to the side. (Master called Beast, Beast.)

“What? When?” I ask. I remember thinking of it as a beast in my head, but I don't remember calling it that.

(First fight. Near water.)

“From a few days ago?”

Its tongue lolls out again, and it shakes its head in the same anthropomorphic fashion that I've seen from it. “Hm. Well, I don't think I like 'Beast.'”

“I'm sure. It was cool for Hank McCoy, but it just sounds like I'm being a jerk if I do it to you.” The thought of the X-men sparks a memory about the comics I used to read as a kid and of a somewhat obscure character that I gelled with after finding out about my lineage. Someone special to me when I was younger bought me his toy. The character was a red skinned villain with horns, the standard depiction of a demon. I think it works for my new demon dog. His name was Brimstone Love, but I think I'll just use the first name.

“What about Brimstone?”

(Brimstone. Yes.)

“Brimstone it is,” I say, pulling into my driveway. There's an unexpected exchange of energy between the newly named Hound and myself after the name is confirmed. I'm not sure what it means, but it doesn't feel like anything bad. “Well, you know the rules. Let's reintroduce you to everyone.”

(Yes, Mas–Lor– …Mike.) We talked about this too. It has trouble calling me just by my name but, it is a rule.

I get out of the car, and Brimstone hops out behind me before I shut the door. There is a high-pitched keening in my ears, and with a quick glance around, I see Eph come into view. He’s walking around the house from the back and casting while he does so. I wave at him, and he nods back after he's finished.

“Mike,” he says. “You kept it.”

“Hey Eph. Yeah, I kinda had to,” I say. He raises an eyebrow, but I don't give him time to question it. “What're you up to?”

Mom comes around the other side of the house, casting as well, and Eph smiles and moves past me, picking up his pace.

“You're gonna lose,” he says, moving quickly past her. Once he's out of sight, she slows her pace and smiles.

“What's going on?” I ask.

“Hey, kiddo,” she says. “We're just puttin' up some new wards. The three of us are working together this time to make them stronger. Just in case you have another ‘accident’.”

I roll my eyes. I’ve already said it wasn’t me. “What did he mean by 'you're gonna lose'?”

She laughs. “He said if he wins, he gets to buy me dinner.”

I look at her flatly. “That's my boss, mom.”

“It's a free dinner, Mikael!” she snaps back.

“Are you gonna tell me why he knew you as Cordelia when your name is apparently Amara?”

“Boy, don't try to change the subject. You tried to yell at me! Actin' like I go out to dinner with all your bosses.”

Yeah, she caught me. I definitely was trying to change the subject. Moms always know your tricks.

I shrug with my hands out. “Thought maybe I'd catch you off guard.”

“Like you're observant enough for that.”

“What does that mean?” I ask.

Her eyes flick quickly toward the house then back at me. “Nothing.”

“No, really.”

“You need to talk to that girl, Mikael. She's been sticking around here, and I've talked to her more than you. She wants to talk to you about the things that she remembers.”

Suddenly, my skin feels like it's too tight. That could mean plenty of things. Things like, maybe there are some inconsistencies in my story about how her sister died and she wants to confirm some suspicions. Or maybe she wants to ask more about Kai's tea or why I left her that night and didn't give her any information as to why. I freaked out when I realized she was related to the person trying to kill me, and I thought maybe she was in on it too.

Wait, wasn't I trying to grill mom? How did she flip this around on me just like Alastor did?

I make a 'shame on you' gesture with my hands.

“You had my head spinning. Not cool,” I say.

She smiles wickedly, but then raises her eyebrows.

“See, that’s how you change a subject. You don't know what you're doing yet. Also, that doesn't make what I said not true.”

“Yeah,” I say with a sigh. “You're right.”

She looks down at Brimstone who has been sitting quietly, listening to us. “You decided to keep it?”

“The alternative was 'disposal.' I gave it a set of rules.”

“Sure.” She never takes her eyes from Brimstone. . “You named it.”

“Yeah,” I say. “How did you know?”

“You're bonded. Well, bond-ing.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s yours now. Fully. You probably felt it once you named it.”

“Oh, yeah. That's what that was?”

“What did you name it?”

“Brimstone is what we agreed on. Like the toy–”

“That toy you had years ago that you took everywhere. I remember it.”

“Yeah,” I say slowly.

“It's a good choice.”

“Beat ya!” Eph yells excitedly as he rounds the corner again.

“Don't tell him I'm already done,” she whispers. “Wow, well done.” She does a slow clap, like she's upset she lost. I walk up the steps before I see any more of the old man flirting. The Hound stays on my heels. Vithar is walking up to the door when I come in, and he looks outside over my shoulder.

“They finished yet?” he asks.

“Yeah, they're out there 'talking' now,” I say, air-quoting the word.

He squints at me. “Huh?”

“Nothing.”

He looks down at Brimstone. “You decid–”

“Yes, I decided to keep the Hound,” I say, interrupting.

I’m about to explain what lead me to the decision when there's a spike of energy. Vithar frowns and I glance outside for the source–a figure standing on the sidewalk.

A short, thin, mousey looking wizard stands there, looking at the wards. He presses his hands against the invisible walls and sighs, unable to get past them.

“Ah, come on. Gimme a break. There’s already so much going on,” I say. I’ve had run-ins with him before. We’re not friendly.

“Vithar,” he yells from the sidewalk. “I know you're in there. I must speak with you.”