Chapter Thirty
Logically, I know this is Dirk, the teleporter who created the gate. Nostradamus said he’d be the first to come out.
What I see, however, is Criss Angel—the TV magician who made such a strong impression on me when I was young and, well, impressionable.
Does that mean I revere him? I guess it’s close enough. I mean, I do admire the hell out of the guy—but then again, I almost equally respect every famous magician, and countless underground ones as well.
The weird part is that, at one point, I had a crush on Criss Angel. Now, though, I feel nothing as I look at him—and not just because I know this is a villain’s minion instead of my idol.
Apparently, now that I’ve had a taste of Nero, I’m ruined for all other men, no matter how good at stage magic they are.
Two more peop
