Deathstalker 06 - Deathstalker Legacy

where she made sure they were officially charged and securely locked up before leaving, with a stern warning to everyone present that she would be back later to check on how the investigation was going. Lewis trailed after her, feeling distinctly superfluous.
    "You really don't need to get this personally involved with low-level crime like that," he said later, after they'd picked up her very minimal luggage and left the terminal. "You're Logres's Paragon now. Which means you don't have to sweat over the small stuff. Or you'll have no time or energy left to deal with the real trouble when it breaks. You have to take a larger view."
    "Real trouble?" said Emma immediately, her ears pricking up.
    "ELFs, devils, Shadow Court assassins. Neuman riots. That's when we get called in, when the peacekeepers can't cope. That's Paragon business."
    "Any crime or injustice is my business," Emma said briskly, toting her single suitcase with one hand, as though it weighed nothing. "Especially when someone's stupid enough to do it right in front of me."
    Lewis manfully suppressed another sigh. He'd been just the same when he first arrived on Logres. No one could tell him anything either. Hopefully she wouldn't take as long as he did to learn that you had to delegate the petty stuff, or you'd drown in it.
    "You're going to be very busy," he said, diplomatically.
    Lewis escorted Emma to her designated Paragon's apartment. It was a roomy enough place, for one person, in a nice enough neighborhood. On the way there, Emma arrested three muggers, seven pickpockets, and one flasher; who was very lucky not to be shot somewhere extremely unfortunate, when Emma thought he was opening his coat to show her his gun. Lewis decided he wasn't going to hang around while she familiarized herself with her new neighborhood. He didn't think his nerves would stand it. No; a nice quiet, solitary walk was just what he needed. He had a lot of thinking to do, about his various problems, and he thought a lot better when his pulse rate didn't keep going through the roof every ten minutes. So he bade Emma a polite farewell, endured another hup, gave her his private comm number, just in case she needed him in an emergency, and then left as quickly as was still courteous.
    He strolled down the pleasant tree-lined boulevard, frowning just heavily enough that the passersby left him strictly alone, and gave some serious thought to what his life had become. He liked to think that he'd done good work in his time as a Paragon, that he'd made a real difference. But it seemed that was behind him now. His visit to the Sangreal had made it painfully clear that his days as a Paragon were over. He was the Champion now, and it was up to him to decide what that was going to mean. He was damned if he was going to be nothing more than Douglas's bodyguard, honorable a position though that might be.
    Just standing around, twiddling his thumbs, waiting for something to happen. That wasn't him. He needed to be busy, to be ... doing things. Useful things.
    He needed who and what he was to matter.
    He was so taken up with his own thoughts that he didn't notice as the boulevard slowly emptied of other people, until he was walking all alone. He didn't notice how quiet it had gotten, or that the surveillance cameras were slowly turning themselves off, one by one. He was honestly surprised when a bloodred devil appeared suddenly out of an alleyway before him, and moved quickly forward to block his path.
    Lewis stopped short, blinked a few times, and studied the sight before him. This particular devil was clearly the result of really first-class transformation work from a major-league body shop. Goat's horns curled up from a heavy lowering brow, the thin-lipped mouth was crammed full of pointed teeth, and the bent satyr's legs ended in cloven hoofs. The kind of full body work that cost serious credits. And the disrupter the devil was pointing directly at Lewis's head was also very much top of the line.
    Lewis felt like he should applaud, but he really wasn't in the mood. He glared at the devil. "Hellfire Club, right? Nice horns. Go away. I'm busy."
    The devil blinked resentfully, suddenly uncertain, and lowered his gun a little. "What?"
    "I said; go away. I really don't have time for this right now. Go mug a tourist, or something. Give them a nice story to tell when they get back home."
    "Shut up!" said the devil, extending his hairy crimson arm to point the barrel of his gun right between