I’m Kalos Aeon. I’ve been around for longer than you could know – and most people don’t want to know me, being half-demon, and all – but right now I’ve got a big f’in problem.
A woman just came into my office, and I gotta say, from the photo she slipped me, someone’s got a serious issue with the supernatural.
Life expectancy is looking kinda low if I don’t figure out who’s kidnapping magical creatures, selling their blood and trying to reveal magic’s existence to the mortal world. Last time that happened it didn’t end well. I’m not optimistic about this time, either.
Joke’s on me, anyway, for setting up a magical salvage and retrieval business. 50% of an item’s magical essence and a per diem can’t cover the damages this job is gonna inflict.
Money and magic aren’t of much use to a dead man. And If I didn’t have a code (yes, I’m a demon with a code), then I would jet out of Texas faster than a vamp at a sorority party (you don’t want to know).
But I agreed to the gig, she paid the cash, so I gotta see it through.
Did I mention the super-powerful wiccan – who I used to have, ahem, relations with – just returned from a long hiatus in a place worse than hell? And she’s still obsessed with finding a certain god’s spear that I may or may not have.
Seriously. This situation is code red. I’m almost willing to accept help from wizards. On second thought, no wizards. I hate you guys. I’d rather die.
So um, if I don’t make it through the next three days, anyone want a talking dog that’s read too much for his own good? Because the way things are going, Argos is gonna need a new home after the spells stop flying…*
*His only request is that you suck less than Odysseus. Apparently the epic poems got that all wrong, and that guy was a major asshole. Or my dog might just be bitter. Tends to rub off when you live with a demon.
