Birthright - Book 2 of the Legacy Series (An Urban Fantasy Novel) by Ryan Attard

something good. And he wasn’t mad. Maybe my dad wasn’t such a bad person after all.
    Wait. Did he just say ‘magic’?
    Our faces must have shown some expression, because he leaned back and sighed loudly.
    “This is the first step toward your destinies. This is the beginning of your real lives. We are warlocks, explorers of worlds, and more powerful than any other wizards in the multi-planar universe.”
    Oh, I get it now. He wasn’t mad. Just insane.
    “I suppose you don’t believe me just yet,” he said. “Tell me, my children, what is it that you think I do here all day? What is my job?”
    The first thing that came to my mind was “make people cry”. The second was “creep the living crap out of your family”. Of course, I didn’t say any of that. I may have been a dumb kid, but no kid is that dumb.
    It was Gil who answered in a very small voice. “I think you’re the CEO of a company. We have a family business, Father. I think we also have a lot of stocks and investments in banks and world resources.”
    Did I mention my sister is my twin? My younger twin? She spouted out stuff I didn’t even know how to spell, let alone define.
    Dad smiled at her. “No, Gil. That is not what I do. Yes, on the surface I do own many shares and stocks, and my investments do supplement some of our income, but that is a mask. My true profession is that of a warlock. I study, observe, and capture creatures from other planes in order to further the knowledge and power of the wizard population in the world.”
    “Seriously, Dad?” I burst out. “Wizards? You really expect us to believe that? How dumb do you think we are?”
    That was a mistake. It’s rude to snap at your parents. Especially when they have vast magical powers. Dad gave me a dark look.
    “Yes, I do suppose that a demonstration is the only way for you to understand,” he said. He pointed at the fireplace. I heard him mutter something in a glottal voice, sounding like a stone being crunched into shrapnel.
    The low flames burst up, claiming the entire fireplace and mantelpiece, before turning bright purple. A roar accompanied the inferno as the purple flame spiraled, seemingly uncontrollable. My father snapped his gaze at me and smiled sadistically. He snapped his fingers, once, loudly. The purple inferno twisted upon itself with another roar and compressed into a creature with four legs, a large snout, and a jaw full of fangs. All made out of purple fire.
    The creature snapped at me as I raised my legs to my chest and tried not to wet myself. I was completely frozen to the couch, trying so hard to disappear. As the creature’s flaming snout inched closer and closer, I stopped breathing and forced every molecule in my body to be very, very still. It soon reared up, filling my vision with purple flames, writhing into a vaguely canine shape.
    And then, it disappeared.
    For a moment, all I saw was white, as my brain could not register what the hell just happened. Then, I slowly saw my dad rise up, the smirk still on his mouth.
    “Elemental manipulation, transmutation, kinesis, psychometrics, alchemy, summoning, sanguine rituals, physical enhancement, tactical and combat technique. You will learn all this and much, much more,” he said in a menacing voice. Power brimmed from his tone, as if he were giving absolute orders, and the mere notion that we could even think of opposing him was nothing but a lame joke. “From this day forth you will no longer be concerned with the world outside these walls. You will focus on our world, where life is magic, and magic is power and knowledge. Do not forget that. Now, I believe it is time you were introduced to your teacher.”
    He looked up. “Mephisto, if you please.”
    The doors swung open, creaking just enough to make our hairs stand on end. Mr. Faust came into view and hovered inside. He floated with his feet together, hands clasped behind his back, ponytail floating in the air, hovering a few inches off the