Chapter 243 Annoying.

Chapter 243: 243 Annoying.

"Yeah. Among other things," I said, wrapping both hands around my coffee mug. "But first, there’s been a complication."

Vanessa narrowed her visible eye, her posture instantly stiffening. Mystic paused with her glass halfway to her mouth, tilting her head curiously.

"Complication?" the Nordic heroine asked.

"Yeah," I said, keeping my voice low so it wouldn’t carry over the diner’s background chatter. "Either of you ever cross paths with a demon named Legion?"

Mystic shook her head, looking blank, but Vanessa practically choked on her breath. Her face went rigid with instant, visceral disgust.

"He is a foul, parasitic creature," Vanessa spat, her fingers curling into tight fists on the laminate table. "A manipulator of the weakest minds. He seeks to overwrite the free will of thousands, infesting the mortal plane like a spiritual cancer through his ridiculous wellness cults."

"Yeah, that sounds like the guy," I agreed. "Anyway, he crashed one of my interviews yesterday. Turns out, he watched the news coverage of our little museum heist, and he has fully convinced himself that the prop you two fought over is actually an ancient relic of unimaginable dark power."

Vanessa stared at me, completely flat-footed. "He did?"

"Yep."

"But it’s not... right?" she asked, a sudden edge of genuine panic creeping into her voice.

"No. It’s absolutely not," I assured her firmly. "You literally held the thing. It weighs two pounds. Does it feel like an ancient conduit to the underworld to you?"

"I... well, no," she admitted slowly. "But... you don’t happen to have a real one locked in a vault somewhere, do you?"

"No," I said, stamping that idea out immediately. "I do not. I don’t mess with authentic occult hardware. It is a block of plastic and some LED wiring. Regardless, Legion thinks the cube can give him enough of a power boost to conquer the tri-state area. Obviously, it can’t. But he is still a major problem."

I turned my attention to the veteran hero across the table. "Mystic, is there a bureaucratic lever you can pull on him? Can the major hero leagues step in? I really do not need a demonic hit squad interrupting our production schedule right now."

Mystic frowned, tracing a water ring on the table with her fingertip. "Have you tried contacting the Mythic Society Hotline?"

"I did," I deadpanned. "I spent forty-five minutes on hold listening to pan-flute music. When a representative finally picked up, they told me demonic cults fall outside their operational jurisdiction, and then they asked if I wanted to pledge fifty bucks to the Gnomes Without Shoes Foundation."

Mystic sighed softly, her shoulders dropping. She tapped her fingernail against the table. "How exactly is he attacking you?"

"He’s a hive-mind," I explained. "He possesses his followers and uses them as disposable meat-suits. I turned his primary vessel into a pile of ash yesterday, but he just laughed it off and promised to keep coming. It is going to be an ongoing issue."

Mystic shook her head regretfully. "I am sorry, Polaris. But there is very little official action I can take unless we have concrete proof of who his civilian followers are. And even then, under current federal guidelines, we cannot arrest citizens simply for belonging to a registered wellness organization or a fringe religious group. They have to commit an overt felony first."

Dammit.

I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised. The legal red tape surrounding superhuman activity was a nightmare, and smart villains always knew how to hide behind the First Amendment.

"Oh well. Good thing I have a backup plan," I muttered, taking a sip of my coffee. "I have a specialist currently looking into his background to figure out a permanent banishment method."

"Impossible," Vanessa said, shaking her head grimly. "You cannot simply research a creature like Legion on the internet. Banishing a multiplier demon requires immensely complex warding geometry. You would need an entire congregation of ordained priests and a master-class exorcist to even dent his tether to this plane."

"Don’t I know it," I grunted. "If all I had to worry about was some spinning heads and projectile vomiting, I’d be dancing a jig. But you don’t need to worry about the logistics. I’ll take care of Legion. He won’t screw up the next staged encounter with you. I’ll keep a perimeter watch and deal with his cultists as they pop up."

"I am afraid I cannot allow you to do that," Mystic interrupted.

Aw, shit.

I looked at her, fighting the urge to rub my temples. "You can’t?"

"No," Mystic stated, her voice carrying the absolute, uncompromising weight of a veteran protector. "A demon of that magnitude operating openly in Metropolis cannot be tolerated. If we know for a fact that he is targeting you and Vanessa, then he must be dealt with proactively."

"I’ve been trying, believe me," I said. "Like I mentioned, I already killed him once. I dropped a heavy oak table on his jaw and crushed him into a fine powder. But he just respawns in a new host."

"Indeed. But you do not need to face this threat alone. I will assist you," Mystic declared.

I blinked. "You will?"

"Yes," Mystic said, nodding firmly. "If you encounter him or his thralls again, you will signal me. I will intervene and deliver justice upon his head."

"Oh. How... incredibly generous of you," I managed to say.

And honestly, it was. Having a heavyweight hero volunteer for bodyguard duty was a massive tactical advantage. But it was only useful if Legion popped up while Mystic was actually in the neighborhood. And frankly, I liked Mystic, but I did not want a high-profile hero hanging around my base of operations twenty-four hours a day. Even one who wasn’t actively trying to cave my chest in.

"And I will not tolerate his presence either," Vanessa chimed in, conviction hardening her features. "No devil should be allowed to operate freely in the mortal world, preying on the souls of the weak and gullible. I will assist you in finding a way to banish this creature back to the depths which spawned him!"

"Oh. Uh, you really don’t have to do that," I said, raising a hand.

"I insist," Vanessa countered, her chin lifting stubbornly. "I am extensively trained in all manner of foul sorceries. My father forced me to delve into the blackest depths of ancient magic. I know exactly how to deal with demons of unfathomable depravity."

"Ah. Well, then you’ll be in fantastic company," I said dryly.

There was no use trying to keep it under wraps now. If they were going to insist on meddling in my pest-control problem, they needed the full operational briefing.

"Because my resident expert is Lilith."

Vanessa’s brow furrowed, her visible eye squinting in confusion. "Lilith? That name seems familiar..."

"It should," I said, pointing a finger at the designer handbag resting on the booth seat next to her. "I’m pretty sure you’re currently carrying one of her boss’s seasonal releases."

"The fashion demon," Mystic clarified gently for the younger heroine.

Vanessa recoiled, physically pressing her back against the vinyl booth in horror. "You cavort with demons?!"

"Well, not just with her," I replied, keeping a perfectly straight face. "I have three other women living in my house demanding my administrative attention. And we don’t just cavort. We also frolic, gambol, and occasionally romp. But strictly in a professional, tax-deductible capacity."

Vanessa stared at me like I had just grown a second head.

"Lilith is a known entity to the hero community," Mystic explained, cutting off Vanessa’s rising outrage. "She is a succubus, yes, but she operates legally. She is employed by the House of Edna and has never been implicated in any events of criminality on the surface world."

Ha! I highly doubted that.

Lilith put up an incredibly bubbly, air-headed front, but I was willing to bet next month’s mortgage she had more literal skeletons in her closet than a municipal graveyard.

Especially considering she worked in the high-end fashion industry. A more ruthless, soul-crushing environment did not exist outside of hell itself.

Between the predatory contracts, the cutthroat runway sabotage, and the labor violations her clothing line undoubtedly committed on a daily basis, she fit right in.

Not that I was going to mention any of that to the righteous crusader sitting across from me. Things were complicated enough.

"She’s taking an extended vacation at my place to redesign my headquarters," I explained, leaning back in the booth. "She generously volunteered to look into my Legion problem. And let’s be honest here—if anyone is going to know the specific, obscure loophole required to permanently banish a multi-level-marketing demon, wouldn’t it be a demon who already finds him incredibly annoying?"