Spawn of the Devil

Nico allowed the image of the man to consume his whole mind. He thought so hard he imagined the smoke curling from the inevitable cigarette he would find clamped between the thin lips when he found the drug smuggler.

Four deaths.

Nico thought there had been a small influx of sudden deceased teenagers, but Charon and Hades had kept him in the dark, so he assumed that the new souls were demigods. Turns out not.

Nico had been walking down a dark alleyway, trying to find somewhere completely pitch-black so he could shadow-travel right to this man's doorstep. It was a new skill he'd honed – thinking solely of a person, then allowing his power over the shadows to take him directly to them.

But what an honest waste of time.

The only reason Nico was doing this at all and hadn't just shadow-travelled into Gellner's cell and transported the wayward spirit back to the Underworld was because he was bored. Simply and inexcusably bored. He wanted to have some fun by messing around with a couple of secret service agencies heads.

Gellner had been a big criminal himself, sentenced to the Fields of Punishment after a life-time of notorious crime. He must have started causing havoc the moment he escaped, hence winding up in the CIA's prison block, also putting a new assignment onto Nico's plate.

In a way, the son of Hades looked forward to it. It was something to do. The Underworld was crowded, he wasn't welcome at either Camp's, and he preferred these trivial chores to wandering through his father's palace and being told off by Persephone.

Finally, the child of the Underworld found a shadow he deemed suitable. The darkness rippled and he stepped into it, focusing on the man from the file with all his mind. For a second, all he saw was blackness. Then he was disgorged from its hold, and Nico took a few running steps before straightening up and looking around.

He was now inside an apartment – a grubby, dirty and shady place that had a thin, white film of smoke hovering below the ceiling. The windows were tight shut, silicon sealing each one off from the smog filling the flat. Nico took this all in – the stained couch he was standing on, the peeling wallpaper, and the boiling pot on top of the grotty stove. He shrugged. He'd seen worse.

Suddenly, something cold and hard pressed into the back of Nico's neck. A presence had entered the room – Nico felt the life-force – and the person was holding a knife to the soft skin under Nico's hairline.

"No funny crap, kid. I gots me a gun here, so just you turn around slowly and I won't plug ya with it. What do you want?"

Nico rolled his eyes and turned around. He was met with an ugly face, a cigar dripping from waxy lips. The tweed suit hadn't changed and neither had the greedy glint that covered the man's face.

"What you doing here, brat?" He asked again. Nico's lips stretched in a half-smile that sent involuntary shivers down the armed man's spine.

"I just came to tell you that the dead don't take kindly to being cheated."

Confusion swept over the waxy face and the gun was brought up higher.

"Whatcha meaning with that, scum?" He spat, screwing the tip of the cigar into his teeth to hold it in place. Nico grinned wider and held out his arms. The gun clicked.

"It means that the Devil wishes to repay you the kindness you showed to those children."

Nico held back a laugh at the increasingly shocked look on the man's face. He didn't get to mess with mortals often, and when he did, he made it good. The druggie twisted his face around, anger taking over.

"I'm not someone to mess with, kid. Beat it before I beat you."

Nico grinned like a maniac.

"You think you can beat me?" He asked, amused. The man scoffed and pulled up his gun, but before he could even touch the trigger, the tip of Nico's Stygian Iron sword was at his throat. He froze.

"I said, you think you can beat me," Nico repeated, and he was rewarded with a tangible wave of fear that washed from the man in front of him.

"N-Now don't get hasty," he stuttered, but Nico rolled his eyes.

"You mortals. Always to thick," he muttered. Then he looked right into the drug dealer's eyes, and watched as the darkened soul behind them shivered. His eyes became pinpricks and before he could collapse from the sheer amount of terror Nico was pouring into his gaze, the son of Hades lifted up his sword and grabbed the man's arm.

"Come on," he said, hefting the mumbling dealer towards a shadow. The man screamed as they entered, and Nico rolled his eyes again.

The only reason he'd said midnight was so he could make a proper impression.

Byrne stood, white with shock, as the drug dealer was led away. The man was yelling at the head of the CIA. But he wasn't cursing him or swearing. He was saying things Joe Byrne couldn't make sense of.

"A demon!" The druggie howled. "A spawn of the Devil only has such Dark Magic!"

Then the prison cell door banged shut and the shouts were drowned out.

The whole time Nico di Angelo stood in the corner, smiling quietly to himself. How right that dealer was.

Byrne turned slowly to the boy, his face taut with surprise and questions. Nico held out his hand.

"Mr Gellner, if you please," he said pleasantly. Byrne only stared. Nico frowned.

"I did what you asked, Mr Byrne, I'd appreciate the reward for my work. Mr Gellner."

Half-aware of what he was doing, Byrne called in a guard to take Nico too said criminal's hold. But before the boy left, Byrne grabbed his shoulders. Nico tensed up immediately, suspecting a double-cross.

"Di Angelo," Byrne started. "How did you…"

Nico's eyes winked at him, their dark depths taunting.

"Family secret," he said. Byrne shook his head.

"I searched your family," he admitted. "We found nothing. Only the death of a woman by the name Maria di Angelo from the 1900's."

A shadow passed over Nico's face, but it was gone too soon for the CIA head to understand. The boy shrugged.

"Only those heading for the end of the world realise who I am. And by then it's usually too late."

With that cryptic response hanging in the air, Nico left with the guard trailing behind, warily holstering his gun.

For the rest of the night, Byrne couldn't get the image and words of Nico di Angelo out of his head. His family. His life. His interest in retrieving escapees. A spawn of the Devil. None of it added up.

"Mr Byrne."

The CIA agent jolted up and stared at the doorway. Nico di Angelo was standing in it, a small smile playing across his lips.

"You wished to see me?"

Byrne didn't know what to say. Yes, he wished to see Nico very much; the boy made him extremely curious and indeed he knew he'd stumbled upon another of those one-in-a-million children with extreme abilities. Another Alex Rider.

Nico took a seat without being told. His walking stick clanged the wood as he sat down. Byrne cleared his throat.

"I am a fast learner, di Angelo, so I now know not to ask. But there is one thing I must question upon."

Nico nodded for him to continue and Byrne swallowed. Moment of truth.

"Do you have any particular interest in espionage?"

Updates won't be this regular, I just felt like it. Thank you so much everyone for following and reviewing!