Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Crimson sands and burning skies. The smell of ash and unbearable heat. A place where the weak perished. Amidst burning sun choked dust storms a sliver of broken royalty walked. She was regal, she was stunning, she was going to die. She was tall and avian. Long obsidian eyelashes and petite pink beak were settled against a face of soft down and once regal alabaster feathers. Wearing a tattered dress worth a small fortune, she stood out against the dead landscape around her.

Gritting her teeth and holding her wounds, she limped through an uncaring ring and a desolate landscape. Once beautiful white feathers stuck together from sweat, spittle, and dripping blood. She pressed on, her stubbornness alone pushing away her inevitable demise. If one could see her eyes they would see a fire that would char the earth and raze the hells until nothing was left, such was her unending rage.

She was Stella Goetia. Child of lords and conjurer of infernal magics. And yet she was limping away from a wreckage alone. She swallowed, a lack of water and freely dripping sweat causing her to hallucinate. Causing her to remember…

~~~ ~~~

Stella huffed as she stared out the window of the carriage. Rocky mountains and windswept plains passed along. She looked back into the lavish carriage, sighing. She was alone, despite her power. Wife of a Prince of Hell and mother to one of Paimon’s successors. This position alone should have granted her legions to command, a respectable position in the infernal courts, and wealth beyond imagining. But her husband’s head was stuck in the stars, her daughter refused her birthright, and she was stuck holding together a royal legacy that almost wanted to die. What meager businesses and holdings held by Stolas had slowly begun to dry. What territory they held quickly diminished under subterfuge and open warfare by Goetian noble and the mass of plebian hellborn around her.

She was in the Wrath ring at the moment, coming back from business dealings with a winery known for its rich taste amidst the seven rings. It used to be under her and Stolas’s control. It used to be a steady source of income for what little the Prince had left. It wasn’t anymore.

She saw her own reflection. Crimson eyes that almost burned a hole through the thrice cursed glass of the side door window. Partially open, it allowed infernal heat and dry wind alike to billow into the carriage. She grimaced at the drudgery, quickly picking up a wine glass and a bottle of her favorite vintage. From her favorite winery. That she just lost . She gracefully filled the wine glass halfway.

Then downed the rest of the bottle.

“... H-How was the meeting miss…?” An imp asked from the driver's seat of the carriage.

The imp was male. Dressed modestly in his servants suit. He had a small rectangular touch-phone on him, some trite modern invention recently introduced to hell.

“ What do you think!?” She sneered, quickly downing the drink she’d saved in the wineglass.

The imp gulped. “I-It didn’t go so well-,” He began. He didn’t have a chance to finish.

Stella turned back to the imp. “One of our biggest sources of secondary income is GONE you cretin! No, it didn’t go so well!” she emphasized by quickly closing her fists.

The shattering of glass brought her eyes down to her talons. Wine and shattered glass dropped on her immaculate dress. Great. One more thing to worry about . She sighed and looked back out the window. The wine slowly began to spread through her system, and she gave a relieved sigh as she leaned into the carriage’s seat. Only heavy drink seemed to blunt her rage now. Fitting, given her lot in life. She caught sight of the imp looking at the destroyed wine glass. The now familiar look of fear etched across his face before he turned and focused on the road ahead and the horses pulling the carriage. One rogue thought pushed through her mind, assisted by drink. Another one of my servants is staring at me with hatred and fear… When was the last time I’ve seen a smile? Stella grimaced and crushed the thought. She was Stella Goetia, known for her wrath, cruelty, and the iron fisted control she had over her crumbling family. She had no need for tenderness… Right? I’ve been angry for so long… It would be so nice to just let it go…

There was a knock by the carriage window, pulling her out of her drunken musings.

A hellhound on horseback looked back at her. Donned in a suit and cradling a rifle, he motioned ahead of them. “We have an obstruction on the road,” he said. The carriage slowed to a stop in front of an obstruction she couldn’t see.

Her temper flared. “Then do something about it,” she snapped.

The hellhound flinched, quickly calling out orders to the rest of her protective retinue. Stella boredly watched him go before poking her head out the window to look at the obstruction on the windswept road. It was a carcass, some Wrathian beast long since dead. Her guards walked up to the obstruction, a mere dozen hellhounds pushing away at the carcass grimly. She turned her head, staring back out at the infernal landscape.

Then the earth in front of her erupted. The world shook, an explosion turning the flaming horses pulling her carriage into faint mist. The carriage itself was blown off the pathetic dirt path they called a road, throwing her onto the windswept plains proper. Her servant imp cried out in surprise and despair as he was thrown back. Stella let out an ignoble squawk as her world tilted dangerously. When the carriage finally stopped rolling she found herself upside down, the carriage lying on its roof. The servant imp was outside the window, struggling to right himself. He looked up, raising his hands and shaking his head vigorously before she was deafened by the thundercrack of a gunshot.

The imp dropped where he stood, dangerously still.

“Come out come out princess… It’ll make our job easier,” someone tutted.

Fear gripped the Goetia. But it was quickly stamped out by a more familiar feeling. Rage.  She pulled herself out of the wreckage of her carriage, leaning against it as she looked at her assailants.

They were plebians. Filth. The lowest rung of hellborns to grace the seven rings. Imps and hellhounds. Dressed in the rugged leather and rough textiles of the Wrath ring, all the imps were armed with ranged weaponry. Those dogs were dressed and armed similarly, many of them wielding clubs and bladed implements in an intimidating fashion.

Darkness and flame alike licked at her fingertips, demonic form slowly beginning to manifest.

“Who do you think you are, attacking me ? Do you have the slightest idea of who the fuck I am?” she demanded.

One imp stepped forward from the tangle of vermin in front of her, taller than the rest and clad in a bikers jacket. He thumbed the cocking hammer on a revolver as he sized up the Goetian noble.

“Oh we know who you are darlin’. But do you know who we are?” he asked, speaking in a wrathian drawl. He cast a cocky grin to his compatriots.

He was answered by dark chuckles and lascivious smiles.

Stella’s eyes narrowed into slits as her hand slowly groped for something, anything, to be used as a weapon. Her touch quickly fell on a sliver of metal, a part of the carriage’s frame. It was easily broken off with a snap of her wrist.

The vermin surrounding her simply laughed. 

“Darlin, that poor excuse for a shiv ain’t gonna work,” the tall imp said, leveling his revolver at Stella. “I reckon you’re good at terrorizing anyone under you, sure. But I also reckon you haven’t actually had to fight before, have you? Little princess thinks she can take us on, whaddya think boys?” Their hoots and raucous laughter only angered the Goetia more.

Stella’s eyes narrowed, and she charged forward, rage and indignance burning through any sense of reason. But her assailants were ready. Her charge was stopped by bullet and bludgeon, throwing her to the ground in a steaming heap.

She pushed through the pain, demonic form quickly pushing to the fore. “You dare defy a Goetia!? You dare defy me!? She lashed out quickly, half formed spectral talons cutting through the first rank of her assailants. Imp and hellhound died, black blood splattering against the crimson sands. The Incubus glared and fired his gun.

Her initial wounds had already begun to heal, the weapons of hell merely inconvenienced her. But this shot shook her to her core. She gasped, stumbling and falling against the carriage. Her demonic form quickly withered away as something poisonous settled within. White feathers drifted down to the ground as she sucked in a breath. The bullet embedded in her side seemed to suck away her infernal powers. Her eyes widened, looking up to see angelic light slowly bleeding away from the end of the imps revolver. The imp leader sighed and stalked forward until he was a stone’s throw in front of her.

He squatted in front of the Goetia, drawing patterns in the dirt with his pistol. “Now you might be wonderin’ why we’re here in the first place darlin,'' he began, looking her in the eye. “And perhaps yer wonderin’ why I got holy weaponry on me. Nasty little thing, this.” He chuckled darkly. “I got clients. Folks up in Pride aren’t happy with you. Sayin’ yer a problem. Or yer just weak .” he grinned haughtily. “In fact, they didn’t even give us a proper divine weapon to kill you.” He put his revolver on half cock, spinning the cylinder slowly before opening the loading gate and extracting a spent casing. It glowed with angelic etching. “Ain’t that pathetic? All we needed was blessing tipped bullets, and not even a high caliber either.”

Stella sneered, her hand clutching a wound that refused to close. “At least tell me who wants me dead you fucking bastard.”

The incubus laughed and shrugged. “Darlin, I don’t give out client details. But let’s just say yer cousins will love pickin’ apart what’s left of yer family when you shuck off the mortal coil.” he laughed and stood up. “C'mon boys, payday.”

An imp busy looting one of his dead comrades looked up at the incubus. “Boss, customer wanted proof of death.”

The incubus grinned. “Ain’t nothin’ round here for miles and our darlin’s got angel shot in her gut. I say we hit the nearest bar then pick up the body.” he leaned and grabbed a handful of her feathers, grinning. “But I reckon this’ll be more than enough. Besides, even if she runs the beasts out here’ll tear her apart. Don’t matter if she’s royalty or not.” 

Her assassins turned, laughing in the distance as they picked through her former guards for weapons. They didn’t look back as they left her to die.

~~~ ~~~

How long had she been walking? Did it even matter? Time was meaningless when existence was nothing but agony and delirium. Every step was weaker than the last. Death’s doorstep drawing ever closer with the passage of time. But she refused to give in, refused to just give up and die. The rage inside burned brighter than the agony, and the prospect of revenge was sweeter than the relief of death. Her murderous musings were interrupted by a howl.

She looked up to see feral beasts stalking her, their burning eyes locked on hers. Scaled or furred, all bore teeth and claws designed for tearing apart flesh. They cast long shadows in the dying evening light, Wrath's dusky sky the color of freshly spilt blood. Stella adopted a stance she hoped was intimidating, clutching her wound defiantly. The beasts weren’t convinced with her display, slowly descending from the hills beyond and beginning to circle her.

Stella returned their hungry leers with a scowl of her own. “This isn’t how I die.” Calling upon old powers seldom used, she began to feel her demon form slowly forming around her.

The angelic bullet embedded in her side flared in defiance, pain lancing through her midriff and bringing the Goetia low as she stumbled into a crouch. Blood flowed freely through the gaps in her hand. The beasts drew closer, saliva dripping and leaving steam on the dead earth. Her vision began to dim, the world swirling around her as blood loss took hold at the worst moment.

Rage slowly gave way to desperation. “It can’t end like this… Not like this… Please…” Stella whispered, obsidian blood staining an alabaster dress. Tears began to stain her face, tears that were never given the chance to be shed. “Someone… Anyone… Please… Help me,” she whispered. Just this once, she would let her guard down. Just this once she would pull away the mask of rage.

Her vision dimmed as beasts lunged for her. Senses died one by one: touch, taste, sight… She braced herself for the tearing of claws and the shedding of teeth. But in her dimming world she heard the crack of gunshots and the ripping of blades. Smelled the rich scent of blood and sharp tang of gunpowder. With no strength left she fell, her body toppling.

She was like a sliver of moonlight against the dusky red. But it wasn’t into the dust she settled. Neither did she see crimson skies as her eyes began to close. She felt her head and shoulders propped up on arms strong and warm. She tasted water from some unseen flask, the cool liquid a reprieve that set her mind at ease. And finally she saw a gaze brighter than the sun. A gaze coming from a warm face shrouded by dark hair and a red bandana.

A gaze filled with concern.

“Go ahead and rest now, I got you.” her savior said in a thick wrathian drawl. It was only then, upon seeing horns glinting in the evening light, that Stella realized her savior was an imp .

She wanted to protest. To refuse this imp’s help. But that gaze stopped her. A gaze that wasn’t full of scorn, hatred, or pity. One of concern. One of care. So Stella finally let go. Let go of her prejudice in her wounded delirium. For the first time in recent memory she decided to trust. And fell asleep in her savior's arms.

“There ya go, it’s all right now. I’ve got ya.” the imp whispered, followed by a soft lullaby that eased the Goetia to sleep.

Chapter Text

The young Stella walked down a corridor of opulence. Floor tiles polished to a mirror sheen and marble walls with sconces fashioned out of silver. There was a theme in the regal manor. A theme of purity. Dressed in a small gown of frilly pink and startling white, Stella walked through the halls with a small doll held close to her chest. It was a ragged thing, a small porcelain doll fashioned in preened feathers and azure dress. Her most recent gift from an absent father.

She heard giggling and sighing from a nearby room, the morning room of the Goetian manor. It came from behind mahogany doors inlaid with floral and musical motifs. Used for lessons in the piano and the harp. The giggling was soon joined by the shifting of cloth and the half veiled moans of a woman in ecstasy.

Stella’s grip on her doll tightened.

“Mph… Jean… Before we continue, you wouldn’t mind calling one of the servants in would you…? I’d love some drinks before we have some fun…” a woman crooned, slightly slurring her words.

Stella immediately turned, trying to get away before the lavish door opened and out stepped an imp. He was burly and tall for an imp. He stood a full head taller than the young Goetia and stacked with muscle besides. He was unhurriedly rebuttoning his dress shirt, crimson skin burning against the startling white of the walls around him. He caught sight of Stella as soon as he stepped out. Stella stared back at him, her grip on her doll tightening as she slowly began to sneer.

“Hey Agnes, that runt of yours is looking at me funny.” Jean called into the back of the room.

Stella gulped and hid her doll behind her back. Her gaze twisted to the room proper. Her eyes passed walls painted with scenes of great hunts and a ceiling with an oculus of stained glass. Beside the piano and harp in the corner a couch of ivory and velvet was occupied. Her mother sat upon it, disappointment plain. The noblewoman was almost identical to her daughter, white of feather and pink of beak and talon. Agnes was busy settling her dress back in place, hand tapping on an empty wine glass.

She looked at her daughter with contempt. “Stella, what did I tell you about snooping?” Stella took an involuntary step back. Agnes turned to Jean. “Bring her in,” she commanded.

Stella turned to run, but the imp was faster. Pain flared in her shoulder as he casually tossed her into the room. The plush carpets that cushioned her fall quickly fell under her mothers shadow. Stella pulled herself up, holding her doll tight. Agnes quickly grabbed the doll from Stella’s hands, the young Goetia letting out a squawk of protest. 

Agnes quickly slapped her daughter, a backhanded strike that caused her ears to ring. “Don’t squawk at me young lady. That is unbecoming of a noble.” She looked down at the doll again. “This is from your father right? The warlord, the pride of the upper circles?” she sneered as she looked back at her daughter. “The adulterous bastard,” her voice had dropped to a whisper.

Stella looked up at her mother defiantly. “Like you’re any better! At least he doesn’t go around sleeping with the servants!” she shouted.

Jean took a step back as Agnes rounded on Stella again, eyes crimson with rage. Flame engulfed her hand, the feather doll so treasured splintering under the heat. She turned to Jean with a sneer. “Put this whining bitch in the isolation room for a few hours. A fitting punishment, all things considered,” she said. Her sneer twisted into desire then, her eyes burning with a different flame. “Then meet me in the masters bedroom with those drinks.”

Stella’s rage flared, so young and yet so full of hatred. Her feathers stood on end as she shouted at her mother. “Maybe if you weren’t such a whore, father would be here instead of four rings below!!!” she knew it was a mistake when screamed, but at this point she no longer cared.

Agnes turned back to her daughter, eyes burning with hatred and disgust. She slowly leaned down until she was eye to eye with her daughter. “Do you know what you are? A bargaining chip. Someone to be married away to some far off corner of Hell to allocate land or distribute power between the families. But even in this you fail.” She stood up, disappointment mixing with her characteristic spite. “Loud, brash, headstrong, qualities unbefitting a proper woman.” She spat on her daughter, then turned towards the door. “You were a mistake, and your father was too. The only thing keeping both him and you from death is his military accomplishments.” she walked up to the door, pausing by the frame and glancing at her imp lover.. “Jean, you know what to do. Put this filth where it belongs.” she tossed the doll back to Stella. A shattered marionette in a dress of crumbling ash. “And here, the worthless gift your pathetic father gave you.”

Jean grinned and pulled Stella away, the child’s rage bouncing along the sterile white walls, kicking at porcelain and scratching at the hands of her captor. But the guard didn’t budge. He pulled her through winding halls until finally throwing her into a room atop a tower. A small room of cold brick,caged windows, and a thick wooden door secured by a metal bar. Rage filled her then. Rage for her weakness. Rage for her mother. And rage for the servants she took as lovers. Spite and hatred filled her heart, so much hatred in such a little body that the only way to release the pressure was to scream.

~~~ ~~~

Stella awoke in a cold sweat. Bitter memories forcing her out of her slumber. She was about to shout for her servants, or see where Stolas was, but when she opened her eyes she saw… A small room? Well worn planked walls, modest crown molding and baseboards intricately carved with filigree. She saw an old dresser and mirror as well. Her sullen reflection stared back before she turned to look around the room again. Beside her a window looked out on an expansive farm and crimson sky. Where was she…? She looked down at herself, finding herself crammed into a small four post bed with a mattress on the floor to accommodate her legs. She quickly pulled away a blanket that only covered her torso, finding that she was swaddled in bandages. The cloth clung tightly to her fur. Blood turned the once white cloth into an ugly slate gray. She moved to sit upright and find out where she was, but pain quickly lanced through her side as something tore open underneath the bandage.

She let out a groan as agony forced her back down on the bed, her hand instinctively pressing against the bandaged wound in a vain effort to numb the pain. She heard shuffling from her side where shadows moved under a door.

“Shit, she’s awake! Someone grab some water!” Shouted an oddly familiar voice.

“Comin’ right up Sallie May, go ahead and check on our guest,” another voice called. It was feminine in tone, deeper and weighed down by age.

The small wooden door opened and in came an imp. She wore short shorts paired with boots and a crop top. A surprisingly flattering, if rugged look for a creature so small. She held bandages and ointment in hand, quickly stepping towards the edge of the bed. Stella sneered in disgust as soon as she saw the imp.

The imp didn’t seem to care.

“You’re going to want to lay down now darlin, you took a few bad hits. Not to mention ya got shot with some blessed rounds. Won’t do you much good movin’ ‘round so soon,” she said as she placed her hand on Stella’s forehead to check for a fever.

Stella pulled back by reflex. “Don’t touch me!” she tried to shout, but it only came out as a raspy whisper. “Where am I?” she demanded, trying to exert her authority over this little imp.

The imp rolled her eyes before staring up at Stella and matching the Goetia’s indignant glare with a cocky one. “Why Lucifer’s palace ma’am! Sorry for the accommodations, but you should be able to see the swan lake below and all the frilly shit in the bathroom that y'all noble folk like.” 

Stella’s eyes flared, her cheeks thinning against her beak as she prepared to rain down a tirade of insults and curses down on this filthy little imp. Then the imp laughed. A deep laugh coupled with a wide smile that pulled at her cheeks. Stella’s insults died in her throat, utterly baffled at the reaction.

“Y’ gotta learn to lighten up yer highness .” The imp teased as she slowly pushed the noble back against the bed. She began to tend to the Goetia proper, checking and replacing bandages as needed, and placing healing balm wherever wounds were still tender.

Stella refused to respond to this brash commoner’s teasing, staring down her nose at the imp as if to save face. But the imps' touch was gentle. There was an undercurrent of care in the gesture that had Stella at a loss for words. She wasn’t used to treatment like this, never used to genuine care. She quickly shook her head. This is an imp. A demon of lower station. She might just care only because she wants a handout for her help.

The imp smirked, a bemused expression never leaving her face as she tended to Stella. “Alright, alright, names Sallie. Sallie May. How about you?”

Stella leered at this imp that was so casually talking with her and replacing her bandages. Yet her usual fiery temper was dampened, her body simply too tired to handle such a mental state. Lying her head back in annoyance, the Goetia simply closed her eyes. Besides, the care this imp was giving her certainly wasn’t unwelcome. Maybe she could let her guard down just this once. Indulge in a fantasy that maybe someone didn’t hate her as much as she hated everything else.

Stella sighed, opening her eyes and staring up at the ceiling. “Stella.”

The imp, Sallie May, furrowed her brow. “Sounds familiar…” she then shrugged it off, focusing on tying the last of the replaced bandages. “Eh, alright. Now most of yer wounds are healin’ up nice, but you’ll need to stay in bed fer the next few days. Ya took a beatin’ before I could get ya back home.” she warned. 

Stella was about to protest, propping herself up on her elbows, but the imp wasn’t having any of it. She pushed the noble back down and pulled the blanket over her body, tucking it in to lock in heat. Stella let out a grunt as dull pain coursed through her body for her efforts. Someone cleared their throat by the doorway. The two demons turned to see a wild haired imp standing patiently outside the room. Full figured and motherly, she held a glass of water in hand as she gave the duo a smile.

“Glad to see you’re awake, miss. How’re you feeling?” the older imp asked.

Stella’s attention turned to the imp. She was surprised to see no fear in her eyes, no hatred. Just care, a care she shared with Sallie May. She turned back to the window beside the bed, glancing at the farm below. “Fine,” she answered stiffly.
Sallie and Lin shared a concerned look. Lin gave Sallie the glass of water before turning around. “I’ll be downstairs Sallie May.” She called out to Stella. “If you need me, just call for Lin!” she said as she left the room. Her cloven hoofs clacked a steady tempo onto aged wood as she made her way downstairs.

Sallie May shuffled from foot to foot, glass of cold water in her hand. A silence had settled between them. “I’ll leave this glass of water here. I got farmwork I need to head back to. If you need help just call ma- I mean Lin, and she’ll fix you right up,” she said.

Stella replied with a weary nod, and the imp turned to leave. She set the glass down by the bedside table, in easy reach of the noble. Stella fixed her gaze on the farm below as she listened to the imp leave. The sound of her boots clicking against hardwood slowly disappeared, leaving Stella in the company of her own thoughts.

~~~ ~~~

The rest of the day was a blur. Her concentration waned as she stared outside, the dull throb of her wounds making her lethargic. She would slip into sleep frequently, pulled down into the nothingness by her body's desire to rest and heal. When she awoke the burning sun would fall ever closer to that ragged line of a horizon. Shadows grew longer and the sky darkened every time she opened her eyes. The Goetian noble took sips of her water when she could, always finding the glass refilled and clean between naps.

The farm itself was of great interest whenever Stella found the strength to sit up and fight the pain in her side. It was as far removed from Stolas’s palace as could be. Dirty, rough, wild. And yet… She heard the laughter of children from below. The smell of homemade cooking wafting up from an open window. The grunts of farm animals and imps laboring. It held none of the spiteful subservience of a servant class, nor did it harbor the thinly veiled threats and ever present danger of the Goetian court. It was a simple life. A life utterly alien to her. She found herself watching the world below; what little thoughts she had carried away to the mountains in the far distance.

“You’re awake!” a voice called from the doorway.

Stella turned to see the homely imp Lin standing in front of the doorway. She held a tray containing meager amounts of food: cooked meat of some wrathian hog along with some grain and vegetables in modest amounts.

“Yes, I’m awake.” Stella affirmed, her voice hollow and reserved. Her statement held none of her fire. The Goetia’s normally spiteful tone held at bay by fatigue and pain.

Lin gave the noble a warm smile and set down the food stuffed tray on the bedside table. She leaned over the Goetia, unlocking and opening the window. They both squinted as a gust of wind blew into the room. It pulled out the stale, melancholic air, replacing it with the scent of freshly made cooking.

Linlightly placing the food tray on the Goetia’s lap.

Stella picked up a utensil, a cheap silver fork that was easily dwarfed by her hand. Her gaze fell on the imp. “Why are you helping me?” she asked.

Lin looked up at the noble with a shrug. “I’m not sure myself,” she admitted. She grabbed the empty glass by Stella’s bedside before continuing. “Sallie May brought you in a few nights ago, all banged up. I don’t know much about you nobles but we gotta take care of our own down here in Wrath. With all the beasts and bandits in the badlands, not to mention the fire tornados, it’s hard livin’ as is. Gotta take care of each other, kin or otherwise.”

Stella looked back at the plate. Her brow furrowed, mind slowly delving into a dark spiral. “I suppose you’ll want some compensation for saving my life,” she grumbled, attempts at remaining cordial clashing with natural cynicism.

Lin’s eyes hardened, then she sighed. “Don’t you worry none about that, we aren’t from Greed. We help because we want to, not because we have to,” she chuckled. “Besides, we have a Goetia that comes over annually for the Harvest Moon Festival. Curses our crops and rips a portal into the human world, showin’ the harvest moon an’ all that. May as well pay him back by helpin’ out one of his own.” She turned away with the glass of water still in hand.

Before Stella could respond her stomach grumbled. She sampled the vegetables and grains first, although she eyed the meat hungrily. Proper eating etiquette warred with the hunger that had overcome the noble, who tried to down the food as quickly as possible while holding some semblance of regal poise.

Lin’s hardened glare softened somewhat, mirth glinting in her eyes at the sight of the Goetia. She turned back to the door with glass in hand. “Alright, I’m going to head back downstairs to refill yer drink. If you need anything else feel free to call,” she said and turned to leave.

Stella turned, looking at the imp as she moved to the door. This treatment was so… Alien. Unfamiliar. Philanthropy like this would get you killed in Pride, or be taken advantage of. She bit back her lip as her pride demanded her to stay silent. It’s an imps duty to serve you. This family should feel grateful to just be in your presence! Elitist thoughts bounced in her head. But they hang hollow. She pushed her thoughts away, and turned towards the imp who was about to leave.

“Lin!” Stella began. The imp turned, face writ with a questioning gaze. “I…” she tried to form the words. It was unfamiliar, and it pushed back against every fiber of her being. It took a moment for her to say it, but Lin stood patiently at the door until she did. “Thanks.”

Lin’s smile returned, warm enough to break through the Goetia’s embittered heart. “Don’t mention it, darlin’. Call me if you need anything!”

Stella nodded, turning towards her food and eating it with a baffled expression on her face. What in Satan’s legions are you doing? Thanking an imp for service, how preposterous! The thoughts came unbidden, but the rebuttal was just as quick. I am still a guest, poise is required of me as much as it’s required by the host. She countered. The warring voices in her head died as she finished her food, placing the empty food tray by the bedside table. 

Her gaze settled on the farm outside once more, hands clasped in her lap. It was later than Stella expected. Already the cruel sun had begun to set on the horizon, the imps slowly coming in from the fields and the animal pens to enter the house. The smell of delightful food wafted from down below. Lin entered again some time later to give her a refilled glass of water, the two sharing an awkward smile before the imp tended to her family downstairs. Amidst the metal tinkling of utensils was the sound of laughter and love seldom found in the land of the damned. It was an unfamiliar sound to the Goetia, for her revelry was reserved for opulent balls. Even then the laughter she knew hid snarls and conspiring eyes.

Eyes drooping, she felt herself slipping once more into slumber. As the night bloomed in earnest and the imps below began to unwind, one thought would persist. What would it be like to live in a family like that…?

Chapter Text

The days blended together, spent staring out a window and interrupted by naps or awkward conversation. The rest of Sallie and Lin’s family had trickled in to introduce themselves. Lin’s husband Joe, along with their three younger sons. Yet still, even with their hospitality Stella began to grow restless. Days spent alone in one room began to wear against her mind. It brought her back to younger days, in a prison of white brick and caged windows.

She needed to get out.

The Goetia pulled the blanket around herself, the warm cloth settling against her frame as she swung her legs to the side. She stood up on wobbly legs that protested at their use; the room seemed to shrink as she stood, her head almost touching the ceiling when she straightened her back. The room clearly wasn’t built with nobles in mind. She walked on regardless, heading for the door. The pain in her side flared up soon after, but she grit her beak and pushed on through. A wobbly hand settled on the doorknob and twisted it as she stepped out of the room. 

Stella stepped out of the guest room and found herself on the second floor of the imp’s house. The furnishings were just as humble here as they were in the room. A few cabinets between a handful of doors with a master bedroom on the opposite side of the stairs. Old mementos of a humble life lined the walls, along with a bulls head trophy mounted on a wall. Stella’s eyes caught a family photo. She walked towards the picture of the smiling imp family. There was Sallie May, the three brothers she’d been introduced to, and a strangely familiar imp daughter with a chipped tooth.  She turned away, tying the blanket like a makeshift dress as she set out to explore.

She took quick peaks in the rooms, searching in vain for something to wear at least. Although her body strained against its use she was glad to be moving again. The floorboards creaked with every step but she paid it no heed. The stairs creaked as someone began to walk upstairs, and Stella quickly closed one of the bedroom doors as Sallie May poked her head up from the staircase.

The imp glanced at the guest room before turning and seeing the Goetia. “Yer not supposed to be up and about for the next few days. Gotta keep that wound from opening up,” she said.

Stella pulled the blanket tighter around herself. “I’m not sitting in that bloody room a minute longer,” she responded. Her voice was stronger now, but it still held its wounded rasp.

Sallie May looked as if she were about to protest, but she sighed and shrugged. “Alright, fine,” she said. “At least lemme give you yer new clothes, we had to scavenge and tailor something new for you.”

Stella raised an eyebrow. “What about my dress?”

Sallie grinned. “I mean if you want to wear what scraps are left, sure, I reckon we can accommodate you, but ya may want to reconsider.” 

Stella’s eyes narrowed at the imp. “I’ll take the damn dress.”

The imp in front of her shrugged, lips pulled into a smirk and golden eyes filled with mirth. “Alright darlin’, but I’m grabbing the outfit we got fer you too. In case ya change yer mind .” She rocked on her heels as she spoke, snide remark spoken through a shit-eating grin.

The sound of getting her dress back relieved Goetia, but she remained skeptical. They weren’t the richest imps she’d seen, what could they possibly have gotten her for clothing? And how about her dress? The bloody thing cost a fortune, she hoped it was at least salvageable. Sallie May was able to get the Goetia to return to the room and wait, not that it took much convincing. Stella was weak enough for the imp to drag her into the room regardless. So she waited, hearing the shuffling of fabric and the muted sounds of conversation from below. Stella sat on the edge of the bed  as she waited for the imps return.

Sallie returned before long, peeking her head into the doorway. “Which d’you want first? Rags or clothes?”

“Rags?”

Sallie broke out into a smile. “Sorry princess, I meant yer dress, ” she teased.

Stella gripped the bed tighter, beak breaking into a sneer. “Just give me the fucking dress already!” she growled.

“Are y’ sure…?” Sallie May asked in that sarcastic drawl of hers. Stella’s glare was a strong enough response. The imp shrugged, stepping forward to stand in the middle of the doorway. “Suit yerself darlin’, but don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

As the imp stepped forward the color drained from the Goetia’s face. Sallie May grinned wider. Her “dress”, if it could still be called a dress, was a blood splattered ruin. Scraps of fine alabaster silks and pink folds were choked with crimson sand and stained gray with her blood.

Sallie leaned forward conspiratorially, a cocky grin on her face. “Ya’ still want the dress? I reckon it’ll give you a fantastic ‘damsel in distress’ look.”

Stella groaned and shook her head. The imp flung what was left of the dress to the Goetia’s side, then pulled out some folded clothes. Jean shorts, a v-neck tee that may as well have been a crop top, some thin black leggings, and leather boots. Stella looked at the ensemble of clothing with shock before shaking her head indignantly.

Stella raised her hands. “Nope,” she pushed the clothes back. “Not a fucking chance.”

Sallie frowned at the noble, raising an eyebrow. “Really?”

She tossed the jean shorts and Tee shirt back to the imp. “These may as well be undergarments . I’ve never even shown that many feathers on the beach, no less wear it as a casual outfit!”

Sallie May glared at her guest. “So I suppose you’ll just wear yer dress then? Go ahead, I want t’ see you try.”

Stella narrowed her eyes at the imp, indignantly grabbing her dress off the side of the bed. There was the sound of ripping as the frilly dress caught on the side of the bedframe, almost bisecting the expensive garment in half. The Goetia’s groan was drowned out by the bellowing laughter of the imp in front of her.

~~~ ~~~

Sallie May helped the Goetia out of the room. The noblewoman was trembling now, as much from the revealing attire as from her weak limbs. She refused to admit her weakness, however, and held her head high despite her conflicted feelings. Sallie May gave Stella a tour of the house as a form of physical therapy. Stella took her time following the imp. She felt relieved to finally be up and about again, although she made sure to mask her elation behind an air of poise.

Sallie May paused when they stopped by the front door. “Watch out princess, it’s a bit windy today.”

Heat and wind buffeted the duo harshly as soon as the door opened. Stella squinted, covering her eyes and bracing herself against Sallie May and the house's siding. Her recently healed wounds throbbed as her skin stretched with movement, the blessed gunshot sending its usual pain through her side. 

Sallie May looked up at her quizzically. “You doin’ alright, darlin’?” she asked.

Stella pushed herself off the front of the house as the wind abated. Her brow was set in a permanent furrow as she shrugged off the pain. “I’m fine,” she answered through a pursed beak.

Sallie nodded and led her off the first few steps of the house and onto the driveway. Stella stood on the dusty road, her gaze pulled to the mountains. Sallie May followed her gaze towards the peaks in the distance, her face hardening.

Stella’s attention focused as her gaze roamed the farm around her. “I’m going to go for a walk. Take the chance to stretch properly,” she quickly began moving forward, leaving the imp behind her.

Sallie May quickly ran forward with a frown. “Hey! Don’t push yerself too hard! Ya just got out of bed!” She was met with silence as the Goetia kept walking. “Stubborn bird…” the imp said under her breath. She quickly jogged in front of the Goetia’ and stood directly in her path. “How bout I give ya a tour of the farm. You can stretch all ya’ like an’ if something happens I’m there to help ya.”

Stella rolled her eyes, but the insistent soreness in her side made her rethink the imps' offer. “... Fine. Lead the way.”

Sallie May grinned and nodded, quickly pulling the Goetia deeper into the property. It wasn’t long before they were staring at a barren patch of earth separated from the driveway by a wooden fence. A handful of imps were helping a few hell horses use a plow on the land. One of the imps overseeing the field turned and saw them approach. When he got closer Stella realized it was Joe, Sallie May’s father.

“Look who’s up!” Joe bellowed in a deep voice, walking up to them and meeting them in front of the fence. 

Sallie and Stella both looked at the stout imp. He had dressed for weather and job alike. Shirt, vest, and pants were utilitarian alongside boots caked with dirt. His left arm was a tapestry of scars, white tissue against the deep crimson of his skin.

He stepped forward and leaned against the wooden fence between them, pulling up the collar of his sleeveless shirt to wipe the sweat from his brow. “How’re you feelin’, ma’am? Lin said it’d take you a few more days to recover in bed.”

The Goetia looked down at the imp that leaned against the fence, the wooden barricade hardly coming up to her knee. “Pain’s still there but I’ll manage. I wanted to get some fresh air,” she responded.

Joe nodded. “Good t’ see ya walkin’ at least. Honestly didn’t think you were gonna make it those first few nights, what with the high fever and all the ravin’ and hollerin’.” 

Stella’s face tightened into a grimace. “I was about to die, what did you expect?”

Joe shrugged off her distaste for her delirium. “Folk hit with angelic weaponry don’t live long, but if anyone could survive against somethin’ like that would be a Goetia. Or maybe one of the Sins… Still, nothing I haven’t seen before. Had to treat my fair share of wounded an’ dead on campaign.” he turned his left arm with a look of pride. “Got a few scars m’self.” He added with a boastful chuckle.

Stella let out a tut of begrudging respect. “You fought in the legions?” she asked.

The imp nodded. “Damn right! Not many survive but I damn well did.” he turned back to the fields he’d been busy cultivating. “An’ it was worth it too. Big family, land t’ call my own,” he looked out at the barren earth with contentment. One of the imps in the field called out to him, waving him over. He sighed and pushed himself away from the fence. “Alright, gotta get back to work. Take it easy now, y’hear?”

Stella watched as the burly imp walked back to the barren fields. He shouted a handful of commands to the other imps working the field. They nodded quickly and resumed their tiring work. Stella frowned. How can this barren patch of earth give a lowly imp so much satisfaction?

Sallie May tutted when she saw the pitying look Stella gave her father. “It doesn’t look like much now, sure, but it’s totally different when the crops start to grow.” Stella looked down at her guide, raising an eyebrow. The imp seemed unphased at her skepticism. “Fields of gold as far as the eye can see, especially at the end of spring,” she smiled, trapped in the memory of days past.

Stella turned back towards the fields with an unimpressed glance. She never was much of a dreamer, the fantasy of gold fields and summer delights was lost on the Goetia. She shrugged and turned away from the fence. Sallie May followed, making sure she could support the noblewoman in case pain caused her to falter. Despite her caution the noblewoman's steps were firm. Confident. She regained her poise quickly, hands tucked behind her back as she stepped through the fields with a grim expression.

“We got a pen fer the livestock over there,” Sallie May said, pointing towards a sequestered section of the farm. Lin was busy tending to a handful of chickens, their maddening squawking carried along the wind. “And the barnhouse up there’s fer storage mostly,” she pointed again, the withered barn almost as large as the house proper.

Stella simply nodded her head, grimacing at the utter poverty around her. Her lips were creased in a thin line, her beak shut in derision. I have to get out of here. The Goetia begrudgingly let herself be pulled through the rest of the farm. She half listened to her imp guide, simply enjoying the fresh air and doing her best to ignore the pain in her side. Stella was surprised to find she was exhausted when she and Sallie May finally returned to the house. She collapsed on a rocking chair on the front porch, panting as she fanned her face with chipped pink talon and damp feathers.

Sallie May smirked at the exhausted Goetia, passing her a water bottle. “Not used to the heat’ yer highness?” she teased.

Stella took the water, greedily gulping it down before leaning her head back with a sigh. “ Fuck no.”

Sallie barked out a quick laugh. “Fair ‘nuff.” They were both silent for a while, the Goetia taking time to relax as Sallie leaned against the railing of the front porch. She gestured to the Goetia’s bandages. “How ya holdin’ up? Now that yer out of the room an’ all.”

It took a moment for Stella to reply, the Goetia taking another swig from the water bottle. “Better.” She admitted, her gaze turning once more to the mountains. She stretched out her legs, the joints cracking as she settled into a more comfortable position. “It’s nice to finally get up and move.”

Sallie May smiled. “Glad to hear it. Good to know yer recovering so quickly too.” 

She rubbed the back of her neck. “It’d be a bit hard explainin’ how we found a dead Goetia and all.”

Stella laughed at the prospect. “Oh certainly. Hellborns were punished harshly for tamer reasons.” She locked eyes with the imp, the water bottle knocking against the muted wood of the rocking chair. “I suppose you have questions. It’s not every day you find a wounded Goetia at your doorstep.”

Sallie crossed her arms, a bemused expression crossing her face. “Well, what got ya here in the first place? I’m busy patrollin’ the edge of the property an’ I find ya tryin’ to fight a pack o’ wild beasts alone and wounded. It doesn’t paint a pretty picture.”

Stella sneered as her gaze turned to the horizon. “I…” She stopped herself. She didn’t know this imp. Not well, at least. And there was the possibility that any information would leak out. “Bandits on the road, nothing more,” she said, twisting the truth.  It was embarrassing enough to have been spared during an assassination attempt. It would be worse if the press got a hold of the fact that her family thought she was weak. She’d have to worry about overlords then, too.

Sallie May frowned. “I found ya on the northern side of the property. The road up there’s patrolled by security hired by the local Goetia. Bandits operatin’ out there got a deathwish, an’ they don’t live long.” Stella bit back a curse at having so failed in her lie. Sallie sighed and pushed herself from the railing of the front porch. “I still have some chores to finish up, ya can keep the water.” She turned, stepping lightly down the steps to the driveway. “If ya need anything go ahead and shout. I won’t be far.”

Stella gave the imp a noncommittal nod before rocking the chair lightly. It wasn’t long before sleep took hold, carried to slumber by the creaking of rocking wood and the susurrus of wrathian wind.

~~~ ~~~

The Goetia was awoken by Lin’s gentle touch. She jumped, feather and fluffy down standing on end as her sleep was interrupted.

Lin smiled apologetically, struggling to keep in a laugh. “Sorry to wake ya up hun, but it’ll be dinner soon.”

Stella blinked the grogginess out of her system, looking out back at the farm. The sun had set in earnest, casting the sky in burning orange and chilly purple. She groaned as she leaned forward, the rocking chair creaking at the movement. “Ngh… Alright, I’m up.”

Lin stepped away from the chair and walked towards the front door of the house, opening it and beckoning the Goetia inside. Stella followed, ducking her head underneath the doorframe as they entered the house proper.

The inside of the house was cool, open windows and an absent sun quickly doing away with the oppressive wrathian heat. She didn’t have long to enjoy the cold reprieve, though. She was led quickly into the dining room by Lin, seeing that the table had already been filled by the rest of the other family. Sallie May was busy trying to keep the youngest of the three boys in check. The other two were both staring boredly at their phones. The spread in front of them, however, took Stella’s breath away. An assortment of meats and a wide array of vegetables lay on the table. While it held none of the exotic foods she was used to, the sheer volume of food was nothing to scoff at. The beverages were more modest, just water in glasses with a pitcher at the center of the table. Joe sat at the head of the table, Lin quickly taking a seat beside him and giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

Joe returned the kiss, murmuring thanks to his darling wife before turning to the Goetia with a smile. “Look who decided to show up! You enjoy yer nap, miss?”

Stella nodded, standing behind the chair that she was supposed to sit in. She waited, expecting one of the imps to stand up and pull open the seat for her. The other imps stared at her and uneasily clicked their utensils. One of the younger boys was staring daggers at the meat on the table, more enthralled with the cooked food than literal royalty standing inside his house. Stella cleared her throat. Still nothing happened… They’re uncultured… Of course they don’t know proper etiquette. Nobody taught them to pull out a chair for one of higher station. She awkwardly pulled the chair out and took a seat. It was uncomfortable, uncushioned. Far too small for a regal Goetia like herself.

“The nap was fine,” she responded in a clipped voice.

Joe and Lin exchanged glances, before turning to the rest of the family. Lin smiled and gestured towards the spread of food in front of the Goetia. “Well, seein’ as how yer our guest, y’ get first pick of the spread here, hun. Go ahead and take what ya like.”

Stella nodded and did as bidden. She was picky though, grabbing only the juiciest or fattest slices of meat. She delved into the vegetables too, diligently filling her plate with what she assumed was the best cooked of them all. Still, when she finished her plate was only modestly filled.

Joe raised an eyebrow. “Ya don’t eat much do ya?” he asked.

Stella scoffed at the imps question. “This is more than enough.”

Joe shrugged. “Suit yerself.” He nodded towards his kids. “Alright boys, remember to share,” he turned to Sallie May. “That goes for you too. We have a guest.”

Sallie May rolled her eyes but nodded anyway.

Lin moved to fill her own plate but glanced at Stella before she did. “Are ya sure that’s all you’d like hun?”

Stella’s eyes narrowed, eyes glowing pink at her slighted pride. “Yes.” 

Lin shrugged. “Well. I tried. Dig in everyone.”

Stella picked up the utensils that seemed so small in her hands, but she was quickly overcome by the bedlam of the dinner that quickly followed Lin’s announcement. Food was piled higher than some of the imps, the meat torn until there was nothing but bones and scrap. Quickly came the sound of arguing for choicer bites and the laughter of raucous teens and children. Stella leaned back, utterly appalled by the lack of decorum from the brothers. Stella turned to look at Joe and Lin. The two were as modest as Stella had been, taking only meager portions of the food. Lin locked eyes with Stella, giving her a sheepish apologetic shrug.

“Ya should’ve grabbed more, don’t think there’ll be much left by the time ya go fer seconds.” Sallie May interjected.

She turned, looking glanced at the imp beside her. She had filled her plate as much as the other boys had, if not more. She held herself with a bit more dignity, however, properly using her fork and knife rather than picking up the food and shoveling it into her mouth like some uncultured swine.

It wasn’t much of an improvement compared to her younger brothers, however. Stella began to sample her food as thoughts began to run through her mind. Plans of revenge and thought of escape. While she was glad the imps saved her, she’d prefer to leave as soon as she could. She turned towards Lin and Joe who were busy scolding their children on proper table etiquette. Or what was considered proper etiquette for an imp.

“Lin?” Stella began, taking a dainty bite out of her food. Flavor exploded in her mouth, and she savored the bite before swallowing it whole. “Do you have a phone I could use?”

Lin looked up from her own food, lowering her utensils as she turned towards her guest. “Of course we do hun. We got an ol’ landline in the livin’ room that we barely use. Unless if ya’ want to use one of our phones.”

“The landline will do.” Stella quickly answered.

Lin frowned. “Why do ya ask?”

“I’ll leave in the morning.” Stella responded. She set her utensils down, staring directly at the imp. “While your hospitality has been…” Her beak clicked shut as she looked for the right word. “Appreciated…” It still felt weird to be thanking an imp for the service she deserved. “The Goetia have sufficient facilities to bring me back to full health. I’m also required back at my mansion,” she lied.

Lin’s frown deepened. “You can barely walk, are ya sure ya want to do that?”

Stella waved her hand dismissively. “It would be for the best.”

Sallie May set her utensils down. “She’s bein’ targeted, ma.” She turned towards the Goetia. “What’s yer plan here darlin’? Get to more familiar turf and figure out what to do next?” she asked.

Stella’s eyes narrowed at Sallie May. “In simple terms. Yes. I have guards back at the mansion and doctors that can tend to my health,” she said. 

Joe turned to Stella with a grunt. “If yer lookin fer protection we’ve got that in spades, miss.” He grabbed his glass of water, pointing towards the living room's fireplace. Stella turned to see a lever action shotgun and a bloody shovel with sharpened edges on the mantle. “As fer treatment, well.” he turned to Lin. “You got past the worst of it, I reckon all ya gotta worry ‘bout is infection. Lin can take care of that right quick. Isn’t that right dear.” Lin rolled her eyes, but gave her husband a peck on the cheek regardless.

Stella raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “I’d prefer professional help when it comes to my wellbeing. While it was good your daughter found me when she did, the ability you have to take care of me is…” she struggled to find the word.

Sallie May’s hands tightened on her utensils. “Lackin’?” she asked.

Stella’s lips tightened, her silence answer enough.

Lin’s own smile became strained, and she set her fork down to take a sip from her glass of water. She turned back to the Goetia with a thin, forced smile. “How ‘bout we get some rest. See how ya feel in the mornin’. If you can walk on yer own then you can use the landline and’ call yer folks.” She offered.

Stella nodded, satisfied with the solution and preferring not to enrage the imps in her weakened state. She wasn’t sure if she could even shift into her demon form in case her life was threatened again. She caught sight of the younger boys toying with their food. They had slowed in eating, doing their best to listen to the conversation without being noticed. Stella took another tentative bite of her food, changing the subject.

“Quite a delightful dinner, my compliments to the chef.” Stella said. More diversion than apology for her conduct, she simply hoped it would push the family away from talk of her departure.

The dinner continued, although there was an awkwardness around the table. The jokes and laughter around the table seemed like a lie, a front. Stella focused on her food. Sidelong glances from the imp family showed she still lingered in the back of everyone’s minds. She finished everything on her plate quickly, excusing herself and returning to the guest room upstairs.

Sleep came slowly. Restless and filled with nightmares, it was long into the night that Stella would finally find her rest.

~~~ ~~~

She awoke to the sound of someone knocking on the front door. She grumbled at the interruption, pushing her face into a pillow and trying to fall back to sleep. The knocking continued uninterrupted, and she heard a curse from the master bedroom. There was the sound of floorboards creaking as someone moved to open the front door.

The door opened a moment later. “It’s so fuckin’ early the sun said ‘five more minutes’, whaddya want?” Lin demanded.

“G’mornin’ miss. Sorry fer the interruption. Names Will. A Goetia went missin’ in the area a while ago. We’ve been wonderin’ if you saw her roaming around somewhere?”

Stella immediately sat up, the pain in her side ignored as her heart started to pound. That voice was familiar . Her mind rushed back to a destroyed carriage, a smoking gun, and a spent angelic cartridge.. Ain’t nothin’ ‘round here for miles and our darlin’s got angel shot in her gut. I say we hit the nearest bar then pick up the body. The words rolled in her head as she slowly got up, trying to make as little noise as possible.

Will continued. “The Goetia family is worried. This place is safe, mind you, but she might be in danger. A lot of wild beasts ‘round these parts.”

“Do ya at least have a description? Can’t really go on much other than “Goetia” now can I?” Lin sounded skeptical, her foot tapping out an annoyed rhythm on the carpet below.

Stella had pulled on her clothes, quickly fastening her boots and tiptoeing to the door of the guest room. Her boots pressed against the wood quieter than sin, and the door opened with only the ghost of a whisper. She blinked in surprise when she saw Sallie May in front of it, the imps eyes locked on the front door.

Sallie May pushed her back into the room, quickly putting her finger over her lips to signal the Goetia to keep quiet.

“I hear someone up there. Ya got guests miss?” Will asked.

Lin smiled. “No, just family. Husband an’ kids. Sons and daughters willin’ to help me out on the farm too. They’re early riser’s. Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

Will sighed. “Alright… Well here’s yer description. The Goetia’s tall. But all them bluebloods are. She’s got white feathers, gray streak on the forehead. Pink beak an’ nails. Shoulda’ had a white dress on,” there was a moment of silence before the imp continued. “May be hurt. Any of that ring a bell, miss?”

Stella gulped, feeling her heart pounding. Should I try to escape? I can’t go out the window, that’ll cause too much noise… And Sallie May is right in front of me… Shit! What do I do!? She looked down at Sallie May, the imp’s focus still on the front door.

Lin finally responded. “Can’t say I’ve seen anyone like that. Ya got any contact info in case I do?” she asked. There was the sound of shuffling as the imps exchanged something.

“Ya’ can call the local authorities if I accidentally leave you hangin’. But I’d prefer if ya call the number on this card here. We can come by an’ pick her up. If ya find her that is.” Will said.

They quickly exchanged goodbyes. Lin walked up the stairs slowly, quickly turning into the room that Stella was in.

“Friends of yers?” the imp asked.

Stella saw that she was gripping the shovel that hung over the mantle. “Something like that.”

Lin sighed and stepped forward, sitting down beside the Goetia. “Still want to make that call now? Sounds like yer friends are in cahoots with yer family too.”

Stella hesitated. She didn’t have the strength to fight back against anyone at the moment. And she had enemies in her family, they’d certainly take advantage of this. “No. But I don’t have a place to stay,” she grumbled.

Sallie May grinned.“Well you’re in luck then. We can keep you safe an’ fed till yer fully healed. We always need more hands ‘round the farm after all.”

Stella turned to the imp. “I don’t do farmwork,” she retorted.

Sallie May set her jaw. “Ma wasn’t askin’. We already healed ya so we’re in this together now. If they find out we helped you, they’ll go after us too,” the imp leaned against the bedside table, waiting for a response.

Stella sighed, admitting defeat. “I suppose when the alternative is death I’d be willing to learn,” she said.

Sallie May grinned and pushed herself off the bedside table. “Sweet! I’ll be outside if ya need me.” She walked through the door and headed downstairs.

Before Stella could rise Lin grabbed her by the wrist. The noblewoman looked down at the motherly imp.

“Don’t worry ‘bout her. She’s just really energetic. We’ll start ya off small. Don’t want any of yer injuries to open up again.” The imp stood up and walked out of the room. She stopped in front of the door, turning back and giving the noblewoman an encouraging smile. “Come downstairs when yer ready. But don’t wait too long, Joe an’ the boys usually hog all the breakfast.” With her bit said she followed Sallie May walking downstairs.

Stella stared at the doorway, brain slowly processing what she agreed to. Adopt the life of a plebian to heal in relative safety. The life of an imp . No grandiose balls, no high end products. No servants… She looked out of the window to see a familiar silhouette walking down the driveway. She saw Will, the familiar biker’s jacket billowing in the wind. The glint of gunmetal on his hip caused Stella to grimace and involuntarily cup where she’d been shot. Maybe this won’t be so bad… she thought. She pulled herself off of the bed and left the room, walking down the stairs to see Sallie May and Lin waiting for her.

She’d swallow her pride. Better to live like a commoner than risk dying before she got her revenge. When she walked downstairs she found Lin busy setting up the dining table.

Stella sighed. “Alright… Where do I start?”

Chapter Text

The imp was leaning against the railing of the front porch. “So how do ya feel?” Sallie May asked, looking at the noblewoman in front of her.

Stella was sitting cross legged beside her. She worked on two wicker baskets. One held a warm heap of freshly cleaned clothes, and the other was slowly being filled with sloppily folded clothes. The Goetia looked back, her beak and lips a thin line as she struggled at folding the clothes in front of her.

“I’m a Goetia. I can cast magic. I have a fortune to fund whatever you need. I have a demon form to kill your enemies. I could even influence local government, if in limited amounts. And despite all of this.” Stella squinted at the imp as she held up a pair of jeans so faded it may as well have been stripped bare of color. “You insist on making me do fucking laundry! ”

Sallie May grinned. “It was practical, an’ I was hoping I could give you a light amount of work. But now? I want to see ya fuckin squirm princess,” she teased, holding the noblewoman's stare.

The Goetia had healed well these last few days, but she was still on the mend. She was tasked with helping Lin tend to the house to start. Much to their chagrin her attitude quickly surfaced. Seeing most tasks utterly underneath her, it took a good deal of bargaining and persuasion to get her to do something as simple as laundry. Still. Knowing they were dealing with royalty, getting her to fold clothes with only a small amount of bitching was a victory in itself.

Lin called from inside the house, her voice stern. “Did you come here just to piss off our guest, Sallie May? The more you two bitch the longer it’ll take to get yer work done.” She was in the living room, folding some of the bedding that had been washed as well. The front door and window were open, letting the wind pull the heat out of the small house. Clothes and sheets fluttered from the gentle winds that entered.

Sallie sighed, pushing herself off the porch railing and shaking her head. “No, ma, I was just going to ask if she wanted anything from town.”

Stella pulled her attention back down to the clothes in front of her, clumsily folding them. When she heard about the offer and a trip to town proper she raised an eyebrow. She looked up at Sallie May to see the imp lazily twirling keys to the family truck. Metal clinked in the wrathian wind as she looked at the Goetia with a bored expression.

“Well, got any requests princess?” she asked.

Stella thought for a moment. “Champagne. If the town has anything from the Pride ring, or even Lilith’s Vineyard, that will do.”

Sallie May sucked in her teeth. “Bit of a tall order, dontcha think?”

Stella scoffed. “You asked.” she retorted, grimacing as she refolded one of Joe’s shirts.

Sallie May sneered, a handful of quick quips coming to mind. Lin walked up to her and pushed a list into her hand before she could act on those thoughts. She took the parchment, frowning as she scanned down what the farm needed restocked. Sugar, salt, spices, coffee, ammunition, fabric, leather, and a restocking of most of their medical supplies. She grimaced when she looked back up to Lin. Her mother gave her a resigned shrug.

“Been too busy tendin’ to Stella here to go out for a grocery run. It’s a lot, sure, but I know you can handle it. Did Joe ask for anythin’?” Lin pressed, pushing Sallie May’s attention away from the noblewoman on the porch.

Sallie May sighed, nodding. “He just wanted our medical supplies restocked, can’t be too careful ‘round the farm,” she responded. She quickly stuffed the list into her pocket and turned toward the truck. “I’ll be headin’ out then. I should be back before sundown.”

Lin nodded. “Drive safe hun!”

~~~ ~~~

The truck chugged down the dusty road at a steady pace. Sallie May sighed and fiddled with the radio, settling on “Wrath’s #1 Fuck You Up Hits”. The sound of frenetic guitars mixed with upbeat lyrics replaced the drudgery of the drive. The imp found herself drifting deeper into her thoughts. Her mind eventually looped back to the day she found the noblewoman, wounded and set on by wrathian beasts… Stella Goetia… What’re you runnin’ from… Her worried face reflected once again in the rear view mirror. She grimaced and focused on the road.

The town appeared before long. A handful of buildings surrounded by farmland and split in half by a road. Last Respite, it was called. A frontier town once, now it was the last stop before one found themselves in lands lost to the wilds. She drove past a lone sign to her left depicting the town name and the current residents. The number was permanently scratched out.

The road she drove on split the small, quaint town in half. Bank, gunstore, clinic, and administrative buildings were on the right of the road. The saloon, seamstress, carpenter, and general goods stores were found on the other side. Surrounding them was a hodgepodge of houses and apartments. She watched as the townsfolk lazily walked amidst the town, familiar faces both loved and hated. But they were all close enough to be called family. Her eyes narrowed when she saw a handful of new faces, however. They never had new folks come to town. Those few visitors they did get didn’t stay long. Sallie May pulled her foot away from the gas pedal, letting the truck coast as it came into town.

Her shopping went off without a hitch. Sugar, salts, and spices were quickly thrown into the back of the truck after some light haggling, and the medical supplies were quick to follow. The tailors were able to give her spare fabrics and leather for a meager price as well. The shop owner and seamstress spoke little of the new arrivals, their focus locked on the radio. Talk of Satan once again on the warpath. It was nice talking with old friends though, and she bid them farewell as she packed the family truck with what the farm needed.

She quickly found herself in front of the Trident of Pain. A quaint two story shop, a quick look inside showed enough melee weapons and firearms for her to start salivating. She quickly pushed open the door, a brass bell ringing its chime to announce her arrival. She entered to the creak of floorboards and the smell of lead. Behind the counter was a sleeping imp. Dressed modestly in button up shirt and jeans, cloven hoofed, and arms bare, he looked like any other resident of Wrath. One horn was chipped and the other withered with age, they bobbed lightly with every breath the old imp took. As Sallie stepped forwards and knocked her hand on the counter.

“Up and at' em, Henry. I’m here fer ammo for the Rough n’ Tumbleweed Ranch,” she announced.

Henry didn’t respond, the steady rise and fall of his chest indicating he’d heard nothing at all. Sallie May cursed under her breath, knocking on the counter again to get the elderly imp's attention. There was no response.

Sallie May grinned as she pulled away from the counter and began browsing the wares instead.  Her attention turned to the melee implements, her sister's favorite part of the shop. Axes and knives were held up to display along with exotic maces and simple batons. She even saw a handful of polearms ready for use. Her attention turned to the firearms. The classics were displayed proudly. Lever actions in shotgun and rifle variety, a wealth of pistols, and high caliber hunting rifles able to pierce the tough hides of Wrath’s beasts. She picked up one of the lever action rifles, working the action with practiced ease. Her gaze turned to the old imp, so insistent on ignoring her.

“I think I see some rust on th’ bolt here Henry, I didn’t know you started skippin’ quality control. Ya must be gettin’ real old to miss somethin’ like this,” she glanced sidelong at the ancient imp, a smirk curling across her lips.

The old imp sat up immediately, his eyes gleaming an intense yellow glare. “Rust my ass Sallie May! All these products are well cared for!” The imp combed away a dash of wiry white hair from his eyes, an indignant glare clashing with Sallie May’s shit eating grin.

“Good mornin’ Henry, how’re you feelin?”

The old imp sighed and stood up with difficulty. He grabbed a nearby musket and shifted his weight against it. Using it as a makeshift cane, he walked up to the counter and placed the musket beside it. The musket was retooled into a breechloader, the exposed hammer and breechblock caught the light outside as he bent down to rummage underneath the counter. 

“I was doin’ fine till ya showed up. Slow day today,” he grumbled.

Sallie May raised an eyebrow. “This is Last Respite, Henry. It’s always a slow day.” She put the lever action back on the rack she pulled it from.

Henry nodded in weary agreement. He began pulling out a few boxes from below the counter, the jingle of bullets erupting from within.

“Got the usual for ya,” Henry began, opening one of the boxes to show a wealth of ammunition. “Satan’s on the warpath again, been grabbin’ as much good ammo he can get. Not to mention steel and medical supplies. The usual rationin’ is in effect. Ya don’t mind steel casings fer the next few months?”

Sallie May grimaced and shook her head. “Sure. That’ll be fine. We’ve still got some good brass on the Ranch anyhow,” she noted, placing the boxes atop one another before turning to Henry. “Before I head out, any news ‘round town? Saw a few new faces comin’ in.”

Henry’s frown deepened. “New gang in town. Hired muscle fer some bird blue-blood up in Pride. They’re lookin’ fer someone. They say they want to bring her home seein’ as she’s missing. But I don’t buy it.” His gaze locked on Sallie May’s. “Nobles would shout high an’ low if one of their own was missing. I haven’t heard a damn thing ‘bout this missing bird on the radio. Just a description by word of mouth, an’ that she’s wounded.”

Sallie May matched the worried look of the old imp. Her fingers drummed on the packages apprehensively. “Good to know. Thanks Henry.” She pulled out a wallet to pay for the ammo supplied.

Henry waved the wallet away. “Joe already. Besides, I owe him a favor or two,” he said, placing the musket he had been using to support his weight on the countertop. Sallie May quickly pulled the boxes away for Henry. He gave her a grateful smile as he opened the weapons breech.

“The gang’s been cordial. I can say that much at least, but I can only guess how long that’ll last,” he began, fiddling under the counter until he grabbed some cleaning supplies and a dirty rag. “They’re in the saloon right now, rented out most of the Boarding House too. At least they’re paying fer the booze an’ housing. Unlike the last group,” both Sallie May and Henry snorted at the thought. Another gang had tried the same stunt a few years back, using the town as a base for expeditions further west. They didn’t last long, against the wilderness or the town. Sallie May hefted the ammo boxes as she headed towards the door, fumbling with the heavy load and the creaky doorknob. Henry cleared his throat before she stepped out. “You take care out there. You know these hired thug types. All cordial till somethin’ doesn’t go their way.” Sallie May nodded and left the old imp to his business.

The door closed behind her, and her attention turned towards the saloon. It lay down the road, right beside the Boarding House. An old building, as old as the town itself. She narrowed her eyes when she saw a handful of imps kick the doors open with alcoholic drinks in hand, singing ear grating lyrics as they stumbled back towards the Boarding House. She put the ammunition in the truck, then turned towards Henry who was still busy cleaning his rifle.

“Ya don’t mind keepin’ an eye on the truck do ya Henry?” Sallie May asked.

Henry looked up, then nodded. Grabbing a stool. “Yeah, but don’t take too long.”

Sallie May nodded in thanks and jogged towards the saloon.

~~~ ~~~

The saloon was more spacious than its humble front would imply. Cigarette smoke lay heavy in the air, dim lanterns lighting up a room full of half filled tables and a bar. Off to the side a handful of imps and hellhounds played by a pool table. Behind that a hellhound played away on the ivory keys of an ancient piano. Someone missed their shot to the piano’s soft tune, and the sound of a cue ball sinking into a pocket was quickly drowned out by an annoyed groan and mocking laughter. Sallie May looked towards the bunch. Only a handful were locals, and only two of them she knew well. A brown furred hellhound stood behind the bar cleaning glasses. Built of corded muscle and sporting claw marks that disappeared into his plain shirt and loose pants, the hellhound would’ve been intimidating if not for his soft eyes and tender touch as he cleaned the glass reverently. The hellhound beside him was a petite thing, with black hair that covered the eyes and a dark coat of fur. A sporty crop top and jean shorts helped her fight off the heat. She toyed with a wicked looking tomahawk hooked to her belt, warily eyeing the patrons in the Saloon.

Sallie hopped onto a nearby stool and gave the hellhounds a smile. “Antoine! Elsie! It’s been a while!”

The bartender brightened up when he saw the imp. “Sallie May! Good to see you, how’s the family?” he asked. He spoke softly and slowly.

Sallie May smile grew as she shrugged. “Good as ever! The boys are growin’ nice an’ strong. How about you? Anything new?”

Antoine’s gaze turned towards a handful of imps and a lone hellhound huddled in a corner at the bar. Sallie May gave the newcomers a sidelong glance before turning her attention back to the hellhound. “... Business has picked up,” he said slowly, giving the imp a sheepish shrug. He turned, grabbing another glass.

Elsie grumbled something as she nursed her own drink, eyes locked on the group beside them. “We’ve got new visitors.” She sneered, as she faced Sallie May. “Good to see you’re here. Maybe they’ll think twice about tryin’ to play grab ass with some of our regulars.”

Antoine turned while the two talked. “Do you two want the usual?” Sallie May and Elsie nodded, and he quickly filled two glasses with whiskey.

Sallie May placed down a handful of souls before taking a sip from the offered drink. She was about to say something when one of the imps at the other end of the bar called for his attention. Antoine lumbered towards the other end of the bar with a smile on his face. Sallie May ducked her head down, trying to hear their conversation as she nursed her drink.

“... -and the boys would like a drink.” There was a glint of something on the other end of the table, and Antoine’s eyes lit up with surprise. 

He emphatically nodded before responding. His voice was quickly drowned out by more derisive laughter from the pool table. Sallie May grimaced and leaned closer, straining to hear this new group of imps amidst the revelry in the saloon.

“... - been lookin’ for her fer a while now. Kinda sad really, lost out there all alone.” Sallie Maysaw the imps grimace, mirroring Antoine’s own sympathetic frown.

Elsie tapped Sallie May’s hand. The bouncer’s ears flicked as she listened in. “He’s dronin’ on about that Goetia they’ve been lookin’ for. First time I heard of it. They’ve been scarin’ people off with talk like that. Noble business is always risky.”

They continued talking for a time, telling Antoine details Sallie May had already heard. But one thing kept pestering Sallie May as she listened. Why would they know she was wounded? She took another swig of her glass, the whiskey starting to dull her senses. Their conversation slowly began to die away, spoken in hushed tones as the group at the pool table finished their game. Sallie May heard a shifting from the table as wood creaked behind her. She narrowed her eyes, gaze locked the polished countertop of the bar. She saw a number of imps and hellhounds behind her in her peripheral vision, none of them familiar.

“We don’t like eavesdroppers, miss. But we do love company. Why don’t you introduce yourself to the boys?” Someone asked behind her.

Elsie’s eyes narrowed. “Keep it civil, boys.” She turned to Sallie May. “That goes to you too.”

Sallie May flashed Elsie a mischievous wink before turning to see who had addressed her. It was a hellhound. Patches of brown and black fur against a wiry frame. He looked like he’d be pushed to the ground by a stiff breeze, but there was something about him, -his slight frown and hunched shoulders-, that implied a different kind of strength. Like he was always looking for trouble, and was ready to spring away at a moment's notice. He twitched underneath his biker jacket, waiting for Sallie May to make her move. The imp’s gaze turned towards the rest of the gang. They all held faces of suspicion. Burning yellow eyes that looked at her below scarred and crimson brows, or canid glares paired with lips that barely contained gnashing teeth.

Sallie May turned and leaned against the counter, taking a proper look at the rest of the gang. There were no more than a dozen wiry imps and robust hellhounds. She smirked, she’d fought through worse.

“Name’s Sallie May darlin’. Don’tcha know it’s not nice to crowd a gal like this?” She taunted. One hand drummed on her glass, the whiskey swirling lightly in her hand. Her other hand hung limply at her side, where a knuckle knife hung limply in its sheath.

Elsie grimaced. “Really, Sallie May?” At the imps nonchalant shrug the hellhound groaned and got up. She pointed to the few demons in the saloon not part of the gang. “Come on. We’re steppin’ outside. Don’t want anyone stuck in the crossfire.” Sallie May watched as Elsie left with the others in tow. 

A familiar voice bloomed from the other end of the bar. “Now now, we can all be civil here. Why don’t I buy you a drink, miss? I reckon we can smooth things out.”

Sallie May looked to see a familiar imp sitting surrounded by his goons. He leaned against the bar, one hand on a shot glass. The imp pulled away his bikers jacket, gunsteel flashing in the dim light. Sallie May’s smile disappeared.

Antoine let out a whimper and took a step back. “Not again. Just got this place fixed up from last time.”

“See? No need to be uncivilized. Right boys?”

He was answered by snickers from all around.

Sallie May’s rolled her eyes. Time to see if this imp was all bluster or not. She hopped off the barstool and sauntered towards the imp in front of her. “I take it yer the boss then? How’s it feel pointin’ a gun at an unarmed gal surrounded by yer own men? Paints a pretty picture, don’t it?” She asked sarcastically, eyes locked on the imp in front of her.

The imp laughed, holstering his pistol and waving Antoine over. “Ya got some flame in ya girl.” He gestured towards her knuckle knife. “I’d hardly call that unarmed, but I like a bit of sass. Next drinks are on me,” he turned towards the rest of the saloon. Grunting in surprise when he realized everyone else had left. “Tough crowd.” He grumbled. He coughed awkwardly, that grin of his disappearing. Instead he extended a hand in greeting. “Names Will.” Sallie May hesitated before shaking it, hopping onto the stool beside him.

Sallie May raised an eyebrow. “Yer the one who came to the ranch a few days ago. Askin’ about a lost noble right?” she asked, feigning ignorance.

Will nodded. “That I am, miss. Me and the gang’s been talkin’ to everyone we can, got hired fer a rescue by the bluebloods in pride.” Antoine walked up to them, the lumbering hellhound holding a refilled glass in his hand. He placed it down beside Will, the imp taking it absentmindedly. “Which ranch are ya from? I’ve been to so many these last few days they kinda just…” he swirled his drink, looking for the right words. “Blend together.”

“I come from North o’ town.” Sallie May answered vaguely.

Will raised an eyebrow, his gaze settling on his drink. “Not much of an answer.” They locked stares for a time, the ganger imp swirling his drink absentmindedly. He abruptly turned towards the wiry hellhound. “She look familiar, Barnabas?”

Sallie May glanced as the hellhound, -more runt than dog-, shake his head.

Sallie May’s eyes narrowed. “Can’t be too careful with new folk in town. Speakin’ of which, hows that rescue op going? Why haven’t we heard anything on the news? I figure the Goetia up in Pride would be turnin’ Wrath inside out to look fer one of their own.”

Will’s smile faded, his friendly facade slipping for just a second. He quickly took a swig from his drink.

Barnabas sat on the other side of Will, picking up a shot glass that had been neglected. “The Goetian nobles have deemed it necessary to keep this quiet. There are many… Dissidents in Wrath, they’d rather not announce to the ring that there’s a family member that can easily be taken for ransom,” he took a sip from the shot glass, wincing and placing the drink back down on the table. 

Sallie May leaned against the bar. “Makes sense,” she replied absentmindedly. Her eyes scanned the gang members around her. They had slowly begun to circle her, all lines of escape quickly fading. Good. Her hand already began to clench closed, as if anticipating it would be filled by the knuckle duster in a few moments.

“Makes sense, but why occupy a Boarding House in this hick town? Los Satanio is a few hours drive away, sure, but they’ve got more folk that can track and help in the search.” Sallie May pressed. Her hand fell lazily down to her side. A flash away from the weapon at her side.

Will had stopped smiling, eyes locked on her hand and the knuckle knife at her hip. “Ya know girl, you ask a lot of questions…” he began, his hand inching towards his pistol.

Barnabas placed a hand on his boss's shoulder, he grimaced when the hellhound shook his head. Will let out an unsatisfied grunt and let his hand fall limp to his side.

Sallie May shrugged. “Well, it looks like my company wasn’t as nice as ya thought. Antoine!” The bartender looked up from cleaning an already immaculate glass. “Ya don’t mind me buying a bottle of champagne do ya?”

Antoine nodded wordlessly, pulling out a pricy vintage from underneath the counter and walking towards her. She dropped a few souls down, reaching out for the bottle.

Antoine looked at her apologetically. “Sorry Sal, a bit more expensive than that.”

Sallie May grimaced when she saw the price tag and dropped a few more souls, and the hellhound placed the champagne bottle down in front of her.

Will glared at the transaction. “Bit of an expensive purchase there darlin’. What’s the occasion?” His grin had turned cruel.

Sallie May grabbed the champagne bottle. She turned toward the imp. “Got a family celebration coming up. Was goin’ to surprise the folks back home with some of the good shit,” she answered casually.

Will slowly began pulling the pistol back out of its holster. “You know… The last sighting of the blue-blood is up north… Maybe you’ve seen her? We may need to keep you in the Boarding House. Answer some questions.” Sallie May watched as he unholstered his revolver, the muted pig iron of the barrel glinting dully in the bar light. 

In a flash the knuckle knife was in her hand, the champagne bottle turned around as an improvised bludgeon. There was a fire in her eyes, blood pumping in her head as adrenaline coursed through her body.

“You really wanna tussle here? Yer on home turf, boy,” she grinned manically at the imp, her blood chilling smile partially covered by his gun barrel.

The doors to the saloon crashed open, and everyone turned to see a handful of imps sauntering inside. They all held rifles, their eyes locked on the gang by the bar. They spread out amidst the saloon, barrels trained on the dozen gang members and their leaders. An imp stepped forward, sheriff badge glinting silver on a uniform of a long disbanded legion. Goat horns curled back, digitigrade, his forward tilted gait and narrowed eyes belied little patience and a heavy hand. Beside him was a heavyset imp in a tan suit with a remarkably tacky cowprint vest. The wider imp twirled a handlebar mustache, raising an eyebrow at Will. Behind the duo Elsie returned, tomahawk now held limply in her hand. They stepped forward deliberately, ignoring the gang members until they stood in front of Sallie May and Will.

“We had an agreement, Will,” the larger imp said as he walked past the gang members and stood in front of Will and Sallie May. “You can use the Boarding House and saloon to your delight as long as you pay and don’t antagonize the locals,” he placed a finger on Will’s raised barrel, slowly lowering it until it pointed to the ground. The imp turned towards Sallie May. “And I know you don’t want to keep startin’ shit in the Saloon, Sallie May. One of these days Antoine may damn well kick you out.”

Sallie May scoffed, sheathing her knuckle knife and jumping off the bar stool with champagne in hand. “He started it, Ox,” she grumbled.

Ox raised an eyebrow. His handlebar moustache twitched as he let out a dissatisfied tsk. “I’ll smooth things out here. Head back to the ranch, I’d rather not call Joe and Lin about another incident.”

Sallie May grinned, punching the imp on the shoulder. “Thanks Ox. I’ll be heading out now.” She turned toward the stout sheriff standing close to the mayor. “See ya Charles,” the imp gave her a simple wave, his attention on the surrounding gang members.

Will’s frown had worsened, and he turned toward Ox. “Haven’t done any antagonizing mayor. This girl here’s just been askin’ one too many questions.”

Sallie May turned away with a smug grin as she heard Ox let out a long sigh.

“Don’t let it get to you, Will. Now why don’t I buy you a drink, smooth this out like civilized folk?”

Sallie May and Elsie shared a wink as the imp stepped out of the Saloon.

~~~ ~~~

It was late when Sallie May returned from her trip. Joe and the boys were already packing things in the shed and getting ready for Lin’s cooking. She met up with them quickly, backing the truck up in front of the house so they could grab everything from the back. The truck's engine let out one last rumble as she pulled out the keys.

She saw Lin cooking dinner by the kitchen window, but the Goetia was nowhere to be found. “Where’s Stella?” Sallie May asked. Her younger brothers snickered amongst themselves. The oldest knocked them over the head, making them focus on the loose items in the truck.

Joe let out a disappointed sigh. His gaze turned to the house with a depressed air. “Went up to the room early to sleep off the day. I reckon she hasn’t had a proper day's work in her life,” he huffed as he grabbed the ammo boxes, one in each hand.

Sallie May looked at her father with concern. “You’ve never been one to respect these royal types pa, why’re you treatin’ her special?” She asked.

Joe looked up at the window, a frown on his face. “Reminds me of someone I served under,” he paused before shaking his head, hefting the ammo boxes and heading into the house. “He was a good man, as far as bluebloods go. For the most part. At least till… Well… It doesn’t matter anymore, times long past. We’ll see if this Goetia can still earn her keep.” Sallie May frowned as her father left her alone with her brothers.

She grabbed the champagne bottle and locked up the truck before heading into the house. When she entered she saw Lin setting food down on the table. Sallie May quickly jogged into the dining room, helping her mother.

Lin raised an eyebrow when she saw Sallie May. “Something wrong hun?” she asked.

Sallie May shook her head as she placed down a plate of corn. “Nothin’, ma. Just got a lot on my mind.” Her hand was settled on her hip though, always close to her knuckle knife.

Lin saw the movement and put the last of their dinner down on the kitchen table. “Trouble in town?”

Sallie May nodded. She sighed as she leaned forward on the dining table, placing the champagne glass on top. She squinted her eyes shut as she collected her thoughts. Lin waited patiently, but the others weren’t so caring. Joe and the boys came in quickly, the buzz of conversation casting Sallie May’s concentration to the winds.. Floorboards creaked alongside raucous laughter as the family began to wind down for the day.

Sallie May turned towards Lin. “How was Stella today? I hope she didn’t give ya trouble,” she murmured.

Lin gave her a weary shrug. “It’s nice havin’ extra hands around the house but it’s like pullin’ teeth hun. She’s got too much pride, and she keeps lookin’ over her shoulder as if we’re going to stab her in the back.”

Joe sidled up to Lin, giving his wife a peck on the cheek and complimenting her on the food. Lin rolled her eyes at the compliment but returned the kiss in thanks.

Joe turned towards Sallie May as he sat down. “Bein’ a noble’s nasty business. Especially up in Pride. Hell, back in the legions I’d be fighting the armies of other nobles as much as other threats,” his face darkened when he ended his sentence, he filled his glass with water from a pitcher before continuing. “Still, she’s worse than most. Stick so far up her ass she can use it as another spine.” He grumbled.

Sallie May drew inward, lost in thought. Her gaze turned towards the staircase. “Has she eaten dinner yet?” she asked.

Lin shook her head. “No, she went back upstairs after helpin’ me clean the house. She did better with that than the laundry at least.”

Sallie May grabbed a nearby plate and started filling it up with a modest amount of food. “I’ll bring this up to her then, see how she’s doin’,” she said.

Joe and Lin nodded, letting her go on her way. Sallie May grabbed the champagne bottle and turned towards the staircase, walking up the creaking steps as laughter and revelry faded into a dull glow. She heard whispered curses wafting from Stella’s room as she reached the second floor. Sallie May frowned, seeing the door open just a creak. Inside she saw Stella unfolding and refolding some clothes that the imps had tailored for her. Her crop top was askew, jeans rolled up to her knees from the heat and feathers puffed up until she seemed twice her size. Her face was marred with an ugly grimace as she struggled with the fabric.

“... -pid fucking seams. I’m a princess, I’ve kept my family from going bankrupt for a decade and a half. I’ve survived exterminations and assassination attempts, why the fuck can’t I do this!” Stella’s eyes flashed with rage as she threw down a thin cloth shirt. She sighed, staring forlornly out the window and the setting sun. “Still, better folding clothes than dying in the wilds… But not by much.”

Sallie May hid the champagne bottle behind her back and knocked on the door. She pushed it open slowly with her shoulder, making sure she didn’t drop the Goetia’s food on the carpet. Stella’s head swiveled, an almost 180 degree turn that had her literally staring over her shoulder. Her entire body had tensed as the crimson glow of her eyes pierced the imp. Sallie May remained unfazed.

“Heard ya didn’t get yer food yet,” the imp placed the tray on the bedside table. But the Goetia still held her in a withering stare, unblinking crimson eyes wondering what Sallie May hid behind her back. “I got ya somethin’ else too.” Sallie May said in a bit of a taunting voice. She grinned and placed the champagne bottle down beside the Goetia.

Stella’s gaze softened somewhat at the sight of the drink. She turned around slowly, readjusting her crop top so it sat more comfortably on her slender frame. She picked up the champagne bottle appraisingly, giving a grunt of satisfaction as she read the label.

“Good maker, good year…” She mused before setting it aside. She turned towards Sallie May with a smile. The first smile the imp had seen in days. “Good work imp. I didn’t think the town had anything particularly high end,” she mused.

Sallie May raised an eyebrow. “Imp? I thought we were on a first name basis here princess.”

Stella raised an eyebrow. Then it quickly turned into a smirk. “You know you’re the only imp that’s ever talked back to me,” she said as she glanced at the food on the bedside table, then turned back to the imp. “You interest me, Sallie May.”

Sallie May smiled. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

Stella rolled her eyes, leaning back against the bed. She crossed her legs in front of her, the long white feathered limbs extending to Sallie May’s side. “Seeing as how you’ve piqued my interest, I’ve simply decided to indulge you.” The noblewoman gave her a cocky grin. “I want to see where this goes.”

Sallie May’s smile faltered when she saw that grin, reminded vaguely of the town down south. The Goetia caught the change of mood and her own smile disappeared. She leaned forward, awaiting bad news.

“Inconvenienced while getting my champagne, I take it?” Stella asked.

Sallie May sighed. “The gang that’s been lookin’ fer ya shacked up in town. There’s more of them than I thought.”

Stella set her beak in a derisive sneer. “It doesn’t matter. Ten or fifty, I’ll kill them all as soon as I get my demonic powers back.” She emphasized the point by extending her talons. White fire licked at the sharp digits, the shadows in the room lengthening. Her feathers seemed to become blinding, crimson eyes filling the imp with terror. Then it all disappeared as she winced, clutching her side. “As long as they don’t have angelic weaponry…” She murmured.

Sallie May frowned at the Goetia’s pain, ignoring her display of supernatural power. She pulled the tray from the bedside table and set it down on the Goetia’s lap. “No point flauntin’ those powers when yer still healing. Eat up and get yer strength back. You can impress me and the rest of the family with yer powers after.” Sallie May chided in a teasing manner. 

Stella leaned back, allowing the imp to give her the food.  It took a moment for her to actually indulge in her food, stiff shoulders and clipped movements implying a lack of comfort. Or a lack of familiarity to simple kindness. “I know it ain’t much, but ya don’t really eat much. If ya want more yer still welcome at the table.” Sallie May turned to walk to the door.

Stella’s hand tapped on the champagne glass, then looked at the imp. “Thank you Sallie May, for the champagne. I’ll be down in a bit.”

Sallie May smiled and left the door open as she left.

Chapter Text

The Goetia was leaning against the railing of chain linked fencing at the back of the house. She watched a young imp collect eggs from a chicken coop. The chickens clucked and wandered, glancing at the imp and Goetia with mild interest. She ignored them, her attention on the young imp as he talked and worked.

“Ya just gotta give ‘em a little pat on the back like this and they’ll stand up for ya! Nothin to it!” The imp continued. A chicken squawked in protest, rising so he could pick up the egg underneath it. He nabbed it quickly and placed it in the basket he held. The chicken clucked indignantly at his intrusion, walking out of the coop in a huff.

Stella’s gaze fell back on the imp, Roy. One of Sallie May’s younger brothers, he was surprisingly slim compared to the rest of his family. But sharp eyes and an always cocky smile alluded to a stamina that could more than match the strength of his father and brothers. He also had a dexterity that seemed absent in the rest of his family, despite Sallie May’s insistence that he shared it with their sister. He displayed that boundless energy and dexterity now, deftly collecting eggs from the family’s chickens while showing Stella how to get the hens to sit up without spooking them.

“Be careful, some o’ these hens are right moody bitches too. Ya piss ‘em off and they’ll peck at you till you leave.” Roy said, waggling a few scarred digits already bleeding with a handful of pecks. He tensed and released a fist, working the pain out of his system before handing Stella the basket. “Alright, your turn!”

Stella looked at Roy with an unimpressed glance. The young imp stared at her with the cocky grin he shared with Sallie.

“What? Are you scared? Yer a bird right? Maybe they’ll listen to you,” he snickered as he stepped back, leaning against the railing of the chicken coop. “Maybe they won’t.”

Stella glared at the cocky imp. “Watch your tongue imp , or I’ll shut your mouth for you,” she sneered as she moved towards the chickens.

Roy smirked. “What’re you goin’ to do? Hit me? Ya can’t even catch me,” he taunted.

Stella growled a curse under her breath as she leaned into the chicken coop. A brown feathered hen stared at her with beady eyes, cocking its head pridefully as it watched her approach. Stella’s eyes narrowed. So did the hens.

“As an Ars Goetia I demand you stand and let me take your egg,” Stella ordered. The hen blinked its beady eye and squawked. Stella reached out a tentative hand toward the hen and was rewarded for it with a bite to the finger. She jerked her finger back with a curse, and heard barely repressed giggling from the imp behind her. She turned back quickly, eyes locking on the youthful imp that loved to talk without thinking first. He feigned a mask of innocence, rocking on the heels of his feet. She turned back to the hen. “You’ll be dinner if you do that again.” Stella grumbled. She pat the chickens back, encouraging it to stand and it pecked her hand again. “Why you little!” She fixed a withering stare on the hen, and only then did it decide to stand.

There was nothing underneath it. No egg. Stella could swear that damn hen was smiling.

“Aw tough break missy! Better luck next hen!” Roy said, a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

Stella’s withering stare turned on the imp, who had already darted to the other side of the chain link fence. The Goetia looked back at the chickens with a weary sigh, coaxing them off their nests. Her results were mixed, and her talons were quickly streaking with blood from the many pecks and nicks given to her by the chickens. Behind her was the entertained snickers and taunting by Roy. By the time she had finished collecting the eggs her face was a mask of fury and her hand was a tapestry of welts and bites.

“Well, ya got some of em,” Roy mused, leaning against the fence railing. “You know ya squawk like the chickens when ya get hurt?”

“You little!” Stella grabbed one of the eggs in the basket and pulled her arm back, fully intending on throwing it at the imp despite the fence blocking her shot.

“Roy, if ya have enough time to talk ya have time to feed the pigs!” Sallie May called out. Roy was about to protest but Sallie May walked up and bopped him between the horns with the wooden handle of a hammer she carried. “Go on, git. Mama needs help anyway.” Stella watched as Roy rubbed where he’d been hit, grumbling things about “ruined fun” and “just playin’ round” . Sallie May turned to Stella, seeing her mauled hand and filled egg basket. “Good batch of eggs today, we can store some fer the farmers market and have some for breakfast tomorrow. How’re ya feelin?”

Stella sighed as she stepped out of the enclosure, making sure to close the door before any adventurous chickens followed her out. She winced at the small pecks on her hands. Sallie May gave the wounds a look and frowned. She quickly took hold of the Goetia’s hand.

Stella grimaced at the sudden movement. “What are you doing?” She asked.

Sallie May began pulling the Goetia towards the house. “Getting yer hand patched up. Put the basket of eggs on the dining table when we get in, Lin’s going to pack em up for storage an’ whatnot.”

Stella nodded, following Sallie May into the house.

~~~ ~~~

Ointment had turned the pain into a dull throb and whatever was bleeding had begun to dry, but the Goetia’s feathers were still pulled back. Bandaids were placed on some of the larger cuts and punctures. She flexed her hand slightly, talons glinting black in the sun at the movement. She turned to see Sallie looking at her worriedly. The Goetia let her hand fall to her side.

“So, what would you have royalty do today?” Stella grumbled as she glanced back towards the chicken enclosure.

“I’ll show ya. I think you’ve healed enough for it at least.” Sallie May said cryptically.

She had been doing mundane tasks the last few days with varying results. After becoming somewhat decent at folding clothes and house cleaning, she’d been tasked with greater responsibilities around the farm. Feeding the livestock and collecting eggs have all been trials pf patience and swallowed pride. I didn’t even think the farm animals in this ring were filled with anger and spite… She turned back to Sallie May, glad that the imp had given her a reprieve from working with the wrathian beasts. The imp held two hammers in her grip along with a cat's paw tool. She also held a toolbox that jingled with loose metal.

Sallie May led Stella to the front of the property. They stepped underneath a plain arch ringed with barbed wire. The sign Rough ‘N Tumbleweed Ranch swung on rusty chains in the wind, the sound of metal scraping against metal their only companion. Sallie May put down the toolbox, opening it to reveal an obscene amount of nails. She then pointed at an intimidatingly large stack of fresh wood planks a brighter color than the aged wood of the fencing.

“I need yer help with workin’ on the fence. Gotta replace a bunch of the old planks. Most of ‘em are rotted through or simply broken,” her gaze turned towards the cropland where her brothers and father toiled. “Pa needs all the help he can get with the farmwork. I’d be helpin’ too but the farm isn’t just our crops,” she sighed. “When one thing’s fixed three more things need tendin’ to. Works never done on the farm.”

Stella nodded, pointing towards the fence that seemed to be held up by unholy prayers and goodwill alone. “And one of these responsibilities is taking care of the fence I take it,” it was more a statement of fact than a question. Especially when she saw the rotted planks caked with dust and dirt.

Sallie May touched the nearest plank of the fence. The wood splintered at the slightest pressure, holes clearly visible amidst the gnarled ancient grain of the plank. As soon as she gave the plank a bit of a push and tug it quickly split in half. She whistled as she stood up, grabbing one of the hammers by the toolbox alongside the cats paw. She gestured towards the spare hammer and one of the planks.

“No point standin’ ‘round darlin. Ya don’t mind grabbin’ a spare plank and that hammer?” Sallie May asked. Stella did so and pulled the plank towards the imp. Sallie May gave her thanks, already using the cats paw and hammer to loosen the aged plank from its post. “Used a hammer before, darlin?” Sallie May asked, briefly looking up at the Goetia. Stella shook her head. Sallie May turned back toward the fence. “Alright, here’s a few quick tips then. But it shouldn’t be too hard to pick up.”

Sallie May proceeded to show the Goetia how to use the hammer. Her focused attitude on such a mundane task pulling Stella’s attention in. The imp handled her work in much the same way Stella did with business dealings. No nonsense and to the point. She could respect that, even if it was for something as simple as repairing a fence. Sallie May worked as she talked, her shoulders straining against the black crop top. She quickly pulled the remnants of the old plank out, removing nails that could be reused or hitting the ends of the nails so they stayed flush against the wood. “For safety.” She quickly said. A trio of nails were placed on either end of the plank, hit just far enough that they wouldn’t fall when moved. Stella placed the plank between the two posts and held it there while Sallie May hammered it into place.

Sallie May took a step back.“Alright, that’s pretty much it. Watch yer fingers, take yer time.” She started pulling at the other rotted planks with cats paw and hammer alike, making quick work of breaking down the withered wood. “I’ll be with ya the whole time.”

Sallie May had already begun nailing down the plank on the other adjoining post when Stella turned. She pulled a few more planks from the pile and set to work, Sallie May’s tips fresh in her mind. The two settled into a sort of rhythm. Stella would set the nails partially into the planks and hold them against the posts while Sallie May ripped off dead planks and hammered in their replacements. It wasn’t long before the hot wrathian sun turned cruel, imp and Goetia alike panting against the unbearable heat. Their only reprieve came from stale wind and their shared stubbornness. Stella’s grip was the first to go, her hammering hand becoming sore. Pain started to flare against her forearms as well, the blood pumped into her limbs caused her feathers to slowly rise and form an almost fluffy halo against her body. Sallie May stole a few glances at the Goetia, curiosity welling in her mind. She pushed it down though, focusing on the task at hand.

They had finished one side of the fencing when they stopped to rest. Tools were quickly dropped on the ground. The Goetia’s hand was trembling, arms long since turned numb. She panted openly, poise gone as she fought against the wrathian heat, pulling her croptop up and wiping her sweat laden brow. A scandalous amount of waist peaked out from under the crop top. In the far corners of her mind she languished about lost nobility and looking like a commoner . 

She was too tired to give a shit.

A water bottle flashed in front of her and she took it gratefully, taking a few solid swigs from the bottle.

“How ya feelin’?” Sallie May asked, hand outstretched for the bottle.

Stella took one more quick sip from the water bottle before giving it back to the imp, who took a hearty swig herself. “Tired… You all do this day in and day out?” she asked incredulously.

Sallie May simply nodded. She leaned against the newly installed planks, testing her weight against their work. The barrier held. “Pretty much, yeah. Sometimes there’s more work, sometimes less,” she sighed and turned back to the ranch. “But there’s always work…”

Stella pursed her lips. She took a step back to look at their handiwork. One side of the ranch’s fencing seemed almost new. Freshly cut wood perfectly aligned parallel to the ground in strips of two, able to withstand whatever blow ring had to offer. The other side was nothing more than dying wood. She grimaced and grabbed the hammer that was discarded on the ground. Sallie May looked up at the Goetia with a questioning glance.

“Ya want to get back to work already princess?” she asked.

Stella grinned down at the imp, cocky smile on her lips. “Of course, imp. Are you tired already? Maybe I’ll share my champagne with you if we finish early. Treat you to some sophisticated drink as a reward,” she taunted, seeking to get a rise out of the imp. 

Sallie May scoffed, pushing away from the railing with a bemused expression. “Yer tellin’ me to get back to work? No. Yer taunting me?” She let out a laugh, her eyes burning with a competitive fire as she grabbed her discarded tools. “Damn! A first fer everything… Alright princess, I’ll bite. But if ya can’t keep up ya gotta drink some whiskey.” Stella’s cocky grin thinned as Sallie May’s widened. “Give ya a taste of a real drink. Not that posh bullshit you were raised with.”

The duo returned to the task at hand with a will. Stella pushed on despite the weariness in her body and the sweltering heat. While the Goetia’s mind was willing, her body simply wasn’t used to such strain in such a short amount of time. She was sweating heavily, chest heaving great lungfuls of air that burned. Her hand was starting to shake with the strain of the hammer, so she simply switched hands and continued on. Sallie May matched the noblewoman’s stubborn streak with twice as much fervor. She tore the fence apart, dead wood breaking away and stray nails pulled away or beaten down. But even she began to feel tired, wiping her brow as her crimson skin burned under the wrathian sun. The sound of hammer striking iron and wood was carried by the winds to the rest of the ranch, followed by the bellows and grunts of the stubborn duo.

Only a few more meters to go. Stella’s shoulders and triceps burned, and her forearms wouldn’t stop shaking. Her wound constantly throbbed, but she grit her teeth as she looked down at the imp beside her. Bandana streaked with sweat, the imp was gritting her teeth as she quickly hammered the latest plank into position, turning to look up the Goetia for a moment. She quickly broke into a cocky smile.

“Cmon… Yer not… Tappin out already… Are ya?” She taunted between pants as she moved to the last of the planks that needed replacing. “Can’t wait to see ya take a sip of a real drink.”

Stella followed, grimacing as her side throbbed with pain. “N-Not a chance,” she responded, too tired to make a proper retort. She moved to finish the last of the planks, the hammer weighing heavily in her hand as she set the nails and brought the plank in position. “How about you? R-Ready to taste a drink made by civilized hands? Or are you too tired to go on?” Heavy panting and strain in her body robbed the force behind her taunt.

The imp smirked and shook her head. “N-No way princess. I’m seein’ this to the end.” She laughed as she began nailing the plank against the post, the vibration of the hammer rocking against Stella’s arms.

Their banter continued a minute longer, the light hearted verbal duel only ending when the last plank was nailed onto its respective posts. Sallie May sat on the dirt with a relieved laugh, and Stella collapsed against the fence, leaning against it with a tired sigh. The noblewoman turned to look at the fence and found it almost as good as new. The new wood seemed to gleam in the sun, the dull glint of iron nails reflecting the sunlight in trios. Stella’s gaze moved to the far end of the property, showing the fruit of her and the imps labor. She looked at it all in shock. I did all that…? She slowly stepped away, looking at their handiwork.

The barrier looked stout and strong, the wrathian wind breaking against the newly installed planks. The once decayed fence now seemed revitalized. Stella stretched a hand against the burnished wood. A feeling of pride began to swell in her chest, and she couldn’t help but smile. She couldn’t explain it though, how completing such a mundane task made her feel so good. Business dealings never felt this good. Scheming never felt this good. She had never seen the fruits of her labor so readily apparent or brazenly displayed. She caught Sallie May staring at her. The imp’s smile had softened, less competitive and more… Tender. The intensity in her eyes had softened as well, a once burning gaze mellowing out into a warm glow.

“So, ya have fun?” she asked.

“I…” Stella realized she was smiling and turned away quickly, hiding her elation behind a hand and a dignified air. “It wasn’t… The worst thing I’ve ever done, all things considered…” She begrudgingly admitted.

Sallie May rolled her eyes. She tossed the last of the destroyed planks into a nearby pile, the dead wood strewn about. She threw their tools into a now almost empty toolbox, hoisting it over a shoulder. She began walking towards the house then, turning back towards the noblewoman.

“Cmon, ya promised me a drink remember?”

Stella looked at the imp, and lowered her hand from her beak. The Goetia’s smile still hadn’t left her face, and it was quickly mirrored by Sallie May.

“Of course. Come along now, let’s see if your parents wouldn’t mind some as well,” Stella offered.

~~~ ~~~

Dinner had come and gone. Laughter still rang in the Goetia’s heart and mind, accompanied by the slight buzz of sampled whiskey. The boys had gone upstairs, the sound of electronic games and banter filtering down from the floorboards. Stella and Sallie May paid it little mind, sitting across from each other on the living room couch. Joe sat in a nearby chair, with Lin leaned atop him in a cuddle session. Both had joined Stella and Sallie May with a few drinks. While Sallie May and Stella shared champagne and whiskey, the two elderly imps shared a bottle of cider. A flames danced in the fireplace, the crackle pop of burning wood providing a calming ambience after a hard day's work. The fire cast a warm glow in the room around it, illuminating cabinets, pictures, and a seldom used piano.

“You two did good out there.” Joe said after giving Lin the bottle of cider. His wife took a tender sip, leaning against her husband with little care in the world. Joe in turn pulled his wife closer, an arm wrapped around her waist. “The fence looks good as new. Damn fine work,” he turned to Stella with a deferential nod. “Pegged ya wrong miss, you might have a backbone after all,” he said with a wry grin, gauging her reaction.

“Why you-.” Stella’s eye twitched with indignation, but she let out an unamused sigh as Joe let out a low chuckle. She shook her head and raised her own glass to her lips. The whiskey went down easy, causing the lit fireplace to turn slightly fuzzy in her vision. “I’d rather not see a job half finished. However, I can’t take all the credit. Sallie May comes from hardy stock. She admirably pressed on despite the heat.” she noted.

Joe grinned. “Damn right! She comes from legion stock.” Joe’s eyes turned towards the shotgun that hung over the mantle. Lin thrust the bottle of cider against his chest, pulling his attention away from the weapon.

“Don’t go tellin’ yer war stories again hun. You’ll be up all night rememberin’.” Lin chided him. He simply smirked and took a quick sip of the cider. She turned towards Stella with a rueful shrug. “Love the man but he likes to reminisce.” She leaned against her husband with a content smile. “Still, thanks fer the vote of confidence.”

Stella simply raised her glass at Lin in acknowledgement before taking another sip. Sallie May had been sampling her champagne for a while now. Taking tentative sips and savoring the taste. Stella watched the imp who seemed to hesitate with the drink.

“What do you think of the vintage, Sallie May?” Stella asked. The imp turned to her, then looked back down at the glass with a quizzical look.

“It’s been a while since I’ve had champagne.” She admitted, swirling the contents of the glass before taking another sip. She let out a delighted sigh and sagged into the couch cushions. “Still takes the edge off today though…” 

Stella nodded in agreement. Her upper body was awash with dull pain. She took another sip of whiskey and delighted as the warmth seeped through her body again. Her feathers rose and fell like a wave as she settled onto the couch with a similarly content look.

Joe tapped the bottle of cider against the side of the chair, the clink of empty glass ringing dully in the Goetia’s ears. The imp seemed disappointed at the now empty drink. So did his wife, who sighed and stood up. She extended a hand towards her husband. Joe took it and stood with his wife’s help. They were both a tad shaky as they turned towards the stairs.

“It’s gettin’ late. Goin’ to head to bed. Remember to wash those glasses before ya head upstairs y’hear?” Lin said.

Sallie May simply nodded as her parents rose up the stairs, holding each other for support. The bottle of cider let out hollow rings as it bumped against the wall during their ascent. This left Stella and Sallie May alone once again, their shared silence broken only by the burning fire and the distant ticking mechanism of an ancient clock.

Sallie May picked up the champagne bottle, now empty. “First time I had champagne was the first time my sister came back…” She began, tilting the bottle to read the label. Stella’s ears perked up, turning to listen to the imp. The imp seemed to have a far off look on her face. A rueful smile burdened by the weight of memory. “My older sister was supposed to inherit the farm, y'know. Her or Arthur…” she said, mentioning the oldest brother with a baphomet tattoo. “But she just up an’ left. When she came back she came with an imp. Gangly little bastard,” she chuckled as memory flooded her. She set the bottle down and stared at the fire. “Crackshot though, I’ll admit that.”

Stella raised an eyebrow. “What does this have to do with champagne?”

“That’s what they brought back. Said it was a present from their boss. He’d found freelance work fer a blueblood in Pride,” her eyes widened slightly at the slip of tongue, but Stella shrugged and gestured for her to continue. “Satan dammit… She was nothin’ but smiles Stella. So happy with this Moxxie that she left the farm fer him…” She grimaced and shook her head. “N-Not that it’s bad! I’m happy for her but… I just…” She seemed to slump. “When she left I picked up the slack. Arthur’s off most o’ the time at market or doin’ his own work. The other three boys are too young to run the farm, and ma and pa are gettin’ older…”

Stella sighed. “You picked up the slack, when nobody else could.”

Sallie May stared into her glass, lips pursed together. “Yeah…” She groaned and downed the rest of her champagne. “Sorry ‘bout that. I usually have a good tolerance fer alcohol but fuck if this ain’t a good drink,” she laughed. “I get a bit sentimental when I’m tipsy. Must be nice bein’ a Goetia. Not having to worry about whether or not yer home will be bought up or fall into disrepair…”

Stella’s mind turned back to a crumbling empire. Memory took her to a dirt road, a failed business deal, and the smoking barrel of a gun. She grimaced and downed the rest of her whiskey too.

“You’re a stubborn imp, Sallie May. You wouldn’t let that happen.” Stella said, trying to reassure her.

Sallie May turned toward the Goetia and smiled. “Am I bein’ consoled by royalty? Gotta say I’m a tad flattered.”

Stella chuckled and rolled her eyes. She stood up and extended a hand to the imp. “Savor it, you’re a part of a very small group of demons I’d reassure. Goetia included. Cmon, let’s head to bed. Busy day tomorrow right?”

Sallie May looked at the outstretched hand. Black talon contrasted by alabaster feathery down. She placed her hand against the outstretched palm, crimson skin seeming to pop against the white and black. Stella closed her hand around the imps and tenderly pulled her up, the imp standing with only the slightest wobble.

Stella saw the look of worry in Sallie May’s eyes. A look she’s seen far too many times in the mirror. She grabbed Sallie May’s glass and started stumbling towards the kitchen. Sallie May frowned at the Goetia.

“What’re you doing?”

Stella turned. “Cleaning up. Get some rest.”

Sallie May seemed ready to protest, but she closed her mouth and nodded. “Yeah.” She moved towards the staircase, hand settling on the railing. She frowned and turned back towards the Goetia. “Oh, Stella?” The Goetia turned from the doorway, almost in the kitchen proper. “Thanks… Fer listening… Never had someone listen before,” she said.

Stella nodded and turned away, glasses ringing as she set them down in the sink. She grabbed brush and soap, now well acquainted with a servant's tasks. But her focus was on the imp that slowly walking up the staircase, steps creaking under her weight.

Stella was frowning as she cleaned the glasses, her reflection warped by bubbles and running water. How interesting. Such a small creature to hold troubles like mine… Her mind moved unbidden back to the fence. Back to her swelling pride and back to the imp who held a tender smile at their accomplishments. She felt a slight twinge in her heart. Something unfamiliar. She tried to place exactly what the feelin was, but couldn’t quite find the words. That’s new. She dismissed it, cleaning the glasses and making her way to her room.

Sleep came quickly, aided by drink and exhaustion. But all she could think about was an imp’s plight, and a tender smile.

Chapter Text

Stella sat in front of a piano, talons pressing against ivory keys and belting out melodious tunes from the instrument. She swayed slightly to the piano’s dulcet song, hammers within striking the strings in mournful tones. The crimson skies of Pride cast a deluge of rain on the mansion proper, but dull light still shined into the morning room from its oculus ceiling. Hues of ruby and emerald sparkled against her dress, the light shifting like oil against the rain. Her playing slowly began to wind down as she concentrated on the sheet music in front of her, the last few full notes sighing into the air. As she finished her song the door to the morning room opened.

“You’ve improved, dear sister,” said a voice from the doorway. It sounded as beautiful as the piano, lilting and proud.

Stella turned to see a young Goetia wearing a suit of the brightest, striking azure. A crown of blue rested atop a pointed aquiline face, the crown's color matching the Goetia’s icy glare. He stepped inside the morning room and tenderly closed the door. The sound of metal hitting the wood of the door rang out, and Stella saw he was armed with an elegant sidesword. Stella caught a glimpse of something at the other end of the door though. An imp behind her brother, the servants stony glare marking him as a spy of their mother.

“Andrealphus, what a pleasant surprise. You and father have returned from the expedition?” Stella said as she stood up from the piano.

Andrealphus gave his sister a curt nod as he moved to stand in front of her. “Indeed. And I have brought a few things that may interest you in your musical studies.” He pulled out some sheet music. Stella grabbed them, blinking in surprise when she saw the hint of lace poking from the edge of the pages. She couldn’t help but smile when she saw a small lace dress for a doll. 

Stella quickly stuffed the lace dress into a pocket as if it were contraband, then looked at the sheet music skeptically. Lyrics joined it, a duet between vocals and piano.

“A duet. Not from any composers I know…” She frowned, but she could hear the melody in her head as she read the music.

They both heard the staccato sound of dress shoes against floor tile. Andrealphus quickly jogged to the door and risked a look outside. The imp was nowhere to be seen. He closed it and gave his sister a smile.

“He’s gone,” Andrealphus said.

Brother and sister quickly embraced. A tightly bound hug full of smiles and silent elation, like long lost friends reunited. They quickly pulled away as Stella placed the sheet music on the piano and sat down. Andrealphus took his seat on a nearby couch, grimacing as the sword's scabbard pressed against his hip.

“I’m so glad you’re back! Did you see anything good during your travels?” Stella asked.

Andrealphus’s smile broadened. “Of course! I’ve never seen more opulent ballrooms than the ones I saw in Envy, and Wrath has almost untouched lands other than Los Satanio!” He laughed, leaning back against the wall to think about the expedition. His smile soon began to fade. “I couldn’t see much though… We were on campaign more often than not. And when we weren’t on the move I was left in a room while father… Flattered the local lords,” he turned towards Stella. “How about you? Have your studies been going well? Or has mother been… Her usual self,” he asked.

It was Stella’s turn to frown. Her eyes turned to the sheet music, her right hand absently playing the first few notes on the page. “She’s been as abrasive as ever.” Anger flashed in her eyes, but she let out a depressed sigh. “I’ve been improving at statescraft at least, and the piano comes easily enough now,” she added with a wry smile.

Andrealphus raised an eyebrow, then grinned and stood up. He stood behind Stella, staring at the sheet music. “Then why don’t you show me? It’s been a while since we last collaborated on a project.”

Stella smiled, turned to the sheet music, and began to play. Andrealphus joined her with lyrics sung in soft tones.

“When the night is falling

and you have lost your way

When the rain is storming

and your world's turned to gray

When the wolves await outside

and you feel like you've nowhere to hide”

The lyrics began with soft, high notes played to the pitter-patter of raindrops steady and slow.

“Don't you worry, just remember

remember when I said:

Darling close your weary eyes

everything will be fine

Let the breeze wipe away your tears

there is no need to cry”

Stella joined her brother's lyrics, two voices intertwining to the undercurrent of ringing strings and the drum of rain.

“You can lay down no one will hurt you

let your fears be carried by the streams

The twilight gleam watches over you

let this lullaby guide your dreams

And when the morning rises

I shall be by your side”

Their song began to bloom in the morning room. Overlapping vocals and the sonorous tones of the piano accented by notes higher than birdsong and softer than silk. A duet made by two children finding their own reprieve in a cruel world veiled in wealth and status. The reprieve was to be short-lived, however, as the door to the morning room slammed open.

A Goetia noble entered the room, followed by deathly silence. He was well muscled, clad in military dress with a left breast adorned with metals. On his side was a blade almost identical to the one Andrealphus wore.

An older mirror to his son, the Goetian noble Eligos was more hardset, more rugged. His aquiline face was harder. Eyes almost always narrowed, and a wide jaw that seemed to be set in a permanent grimace. His sapphire eyes pierced that of his son, and he tilted his head up in a disappointed manner.

“What do you think you are doing?” he asked.

Andrealphus stood up straight immediately. “Just spending time with Stella, father.”

Eligos stepped out of the way of the door. “You were meant to be in the dueling hall. There is no rest for you, not when you are heir to my legacy.” He turned towards Stella and his attitude seemed to change. A smile that warmed many hearts, and broke down many barriers. But the smile wasn’t warm for her. More like Eligos was looking at a favorite piece of property, rather than a loved family member. Stella learned to be wary of it all the same. “Milady. I’ll be taking your brother now. You can see him again after dinner.” He turned back to his son, and his face hardened once more. “You’re a Goetia, Andrealphus. And you come from a line of birds of prey. Not filthy peacocks like your whore of a mother,” he spat out the word, not even deigning to say his wife's name.

Andrealphus sighed, eyes locking on Stella’s. Stella returned the glance, pools of sadness reflected in that young azure gaze. He may travel with father, but he’s as much in a cage as I am…

Stella watched as her brother wordlessly walked towards their father, slumped shoulders quickly straightened by Eligos’s rough grip. The door shut without preamble, leaving her once more in silence.

Stella turned again toward the piano… The music stared back forlornly. A duet without a partner. Like a bird without its wings. She continued to play, but it felt hollow now. Notes originally so full of life simply tumbled out of the instrument. She sang the lyrics in a whisper, her talons barely pressing the keys.

She listened as her brother and fathers footsteps died in the corridor. They were drowned out by the drumming rain, and her own hiccuping tears.

~~~ ~~~

Stella awoke to the sound of rain drumming against the window beside her. In the distance thunder roared, and howling winds buffeted the house in great gusts. The curses of the younger imps seeped through the walls, followed by their games. Joe and Lin were talking in the foyer below. Stella quickly threw on a plain shirt and comfy jeans, wobbling down to the first floor in a half tired gait. When she got to the bottom she caught sight of Joe and Lin chatting while listening to a small radio. News of Satan’s current conquest. Talk of material shortages all across Wrath as the Sin went on the warpath. Both seemed to care little for it, the volume on the radio low enough to turn the news into a buzzing murmur.

Joe turned to see Stella pushing away the grip of sleep in the foyer. He pointed at her, snapping his fingers. “Yer hair… I mean yer feathers… Yer… Uh…”

Stella turned to the imp, raising an eyebrow. He floundered for a word, gesturing towards the top of her head.

Lin barely held back a laugh, chuckling as she turned towards the Goetia. “Ya got a bit o’ bedhead hun, need a brush?”

Stella turned to one of the windows looking out at the ranch. Her disheveled reflection stared back. Her long eyelashes were crooked, and her feathers lay askew and in a tumble down to her waist. She rolled her eyes and gave herself a quick ruffle. Feathers once used for flight in ancient times, -now used as a fashion statement-, quickly righted themselves into a sleek and warm design. She turned towards Lin with a smirk.

“No, I’m quite alright,” she responded haughtily.

It was Joe’s turn to grin, looking towards his wife as Lin rolled her eyes. Stella’s smirk widened. She swore she saw a hint of jealousy in the older imp’s sidelong look.

“Alright hun. We’re kind of rained in today. We’d be workin’ anyway but it’s pretty bad out there so… Day off,” Lin said as she gestured at the radio. “Not sure what ya want to do though. We got books, and a computer upstairs if there’s anything there that tickles yer fancy…”

Stella sighed. “I’ll find something to do,” she said. Lin nodded and turned back to Joe, quickly resuming their conversation. 

Stella found herself wandering. From the pantry to the porch she made a quick circuit around the house with little to do. She found Sallie May lounging in the living room, whiskey bottle in hand and staring out at the rain. Stella remembered the champagne and the conversation afterwards. Sallie May seemed to feel the Goetia’s inner turmoil, glancing up at her with a wordless stare. There was a slight frown on Sallie May, the imp probably lost in thought too. Stella was the first to break off her gaze. They exchanged brief nods before Stella collapsed onto the couch. The fireplaces was crackling with life again, the flames causing shadows to dance to the tempo of the storm outside. Stella looked around the living room, eventually seeing the derelict piano that seemed to hide from the firelight. It sat alone, sheet music yellowed with age and seemingly untouched. The little light that touched the piano caressed the aged rosewood, casting it in a muted cherry. Filigree embellished some parts of the piano, but otherwise it was left unadorned.

“Do ya play?” Sallie May asked.

Stella turned to the imp. “Pardon?”

“The piano. Do ya play?”

Stella turned back towards the piano. “I haven’t played in a while, but yes.”

Sallie May took another sip of her whiskey, her blush turning her cheeks a deeper crimson. She gestured towards the piano with the bottle. “Wanna play somethin’? The thing’s still tuned. It’s a miracle, considering nobody plays the damn thing.”

Stella thought about it for a moment, listening to the drum of rain and distant howling wind. It brought her back to bittersweet times. Of a brother seldom seen but fondly treasured. She stood up and walked towards the piano. The keys were withered and old, the stool creaking as she sat down. She placed her feet on the pedals, the tension behind them responding dubiously. She tested the soft pedal, a quick flurry of notes released by the piano came out as the softest of sighs. She moved to the sustain pedal and the next notes hung together in the air.

She readjusted the stool, straightening her back and turning towards Sallie May. “Do you have any requests?” She asked.

Sallie May gave her a quick glance, swirling the whiskey in its bottle as she thought for a moment. “Somethin’ to fit the rain…”

Stella thought for a moment before a piece came to mind. And she began. It came as staccato quarter notes, a beat as sure as a metronome to begin. Soft and barely audible against the rain. The piano’s sibilant song rose with the cry of thunder before being swept away by the torrential downpour. A sorrowful tune that held a promise unkept. Sallie May walked closer, leaning against the piano as she played. Her eyes were closed, fingers tapping the whiskey bottle to Stella’s ephemeral beat. Dreams clouded the Goetia’s vision, of hidden gifts and opulent figurative cages. When the final notes of her song played it carried something with it. Stole something out of the hearts of the noblewoman and the imp. Both felt a sense of loss for something they didn’t know they needed. The swell of emotion was interrupted as Joe placed a hand on the Goetia’s shoulder.

“May I make a request miss?” He asked.

Stella blinked, looking at the imp behind her. He seemed… Mournful. “Sure.” The imp quickly stepped towards a nearby bookshelf, mumbling to himself. Stella saw that Lin had sat down on the couch as well.

The radio in the dining room was all but silent now.

When Joe returned he placed sheet music in front of the Goetia. Stella was surprised to see it was a human composition: “Claire De Lune ”. Stella vaguely remembered learning the piece herself in times long gone.

“I didn’t know you had a good taste in music.” Stella noted as she played the first few notes experimentally.

Joe smiled, but it seemed forced. He seemed… Far away. “If ya can play it… Well. I’d like it,” he said cryptically.

Stella raised an eyebrow then shrugged, and began to play.

The song started slow. Stella even sagged slightly, calmed by the soft melody that promised a brief repose. The piece turned playful quickly, Stella’s hands jumping across the keys lazily to strong bass notes meant to uplift the rest of the piece. Then came a flourish along the piano, long notes that seemed to shift the songs tone. Stella began to smile, knowing what was coming. To her surprise Joe did too.

The notes came frenetic and fast, as if running to catch the promise of tomorrow. They quickly swelled with joy and elation, rising higher and higher until they seemed to pierce the rain and touch the sun. The song quickly mellowed out into something calmer, then swelled again with intensity. And yet, for all the swells and pitfalls the song ended as subtly as it began. With the gentle susurrus of a melody and the sigh of a happy memory.

Stella finished to the sound of rain and the crackle of the fire.

“It was in Sloth when I heard it, back when I was in the legion,” Joe began, swirling flames reflected in a yellow glare. “Cold and stuck in the snow. So cold folk were startin' to lose their toes and fingers. Or cracked their hooves and horns…” He sighed as he pat the piano. “We found a church of Satan, trapped under all that ice and wind. So far down in the ring it may not have been there at all. We pulled our wounded there for a time.” his eyes adopted a far off look, he gripped his arms a bit tighter. “They helped where they could, you know… With what little food and medicine they had. A Satan damned miracle, sure. But it was never enough…” He tensed for a moment before letting out a shuddering sigh. “I buried so many friends and brothers to that song. That church organ leadin' the men to their final rest… But it’s been so long since I last heard it I was startin’ to forget,” he gave the Goetia a grateful smile before settling down beside Lin, his eyes unfocused as he was swept away in memory.

The stairs creaked and they all turned to see some of the boys looking down at the assembled family. Arthur was first among the boys to come down. The oldest and strongest of the bunch, and looking like a younger version of his father. He settled down beside Joe and Lin, book in hand. Stella gave the book the barest of glances before the trio of younger boys joined them. They sat or leaned on the nearby couch, with the slim son Roy leaning against the couch’s armrest.

Arthur turned to Stella, the book in hand settled on his lap. “Do ya take requests?” He asked. His voice held a deep, thoughtful timber to it.

Stella nodded. “If you have the sheet music for it, of course.”

Arthur turned towards the bookshelf as he stood up and rummaged around it, much like his father. He pulled out a folder of loose pages, pulling a handful out and placing them where Clair De Lune lay.

It was a piece fit for an epic, a piece meant to inspire. Stella frowned, turning towards Arthur with a raised eyebrow.

Arthur gave her a grin, as he sat back down on the couch. As Stella’s hands settled down onto the keys Arthur began to read, a voice carried into the room by a flurry of notes that imitated the clarion call of trumpets.

~~~ ~~~

Stella listened to Arthur’s narrative while leaning against the piano. Sallie May stood beside her in much the same fashion, watching as Arthur continued telling his tale. The book he read was small and thick, the cover faded from retelling. And yet she could still see the faded title even from here. “The Black Company,” a book of a mercenary band in some far off world, as far as she could tell. She never really was much of a reader, but she had to admit that Arthur’s baritone lent itself well to weaving a good story.

The rain had almost stopped now. The torrential downpour turned into a soft drizzle that served as an undercurrent to the crackling of fire and Arthur’s deep voice. His younger brothers, Roy, Tom, and Martin, lay enraptured at the tale he wove. Martin, the youngest, a chubby youth and a bundle of endless energy looked up at his older brother enthralled. Tom, an average sized imp with the soft face of his mother, tinkered with something in his hands while he listened. Roy had his eyes closed, although for once his teasing mouth was shut. Joe and Lin simply sat on the far end of the couch, their eyes closed as they enjoyed their son's storytelling.

“I didn’t know you were fans of reading.” Stella began.

Sallie May looked at the Goetia. “Most of us aren’t, but Arthur raised most of us while ma and pa were out workin’ the fields. Read stories to us to help us sleep. Now we do it whenever there’s a rainy day.” She rubbed her back from yesterday's work, grimacing. “Gotta admit, not my thing, but the boys seem to enjoy it.” 

Stella nodded and turned back to Arthur, listening as he narrated a battle of crashing armies and psychotic mages. She sighed and stood up, hollow bones popping into place as she stretched. Her head hit the ceiling and she let out a soft curse. Sallie May let out a quiet chuckle as she watched the Goetia recoil. Arthur glanced up from his book, still reading. A smile creased his face at the Goetia, but he refused to comment. Stella rubbed her head as she walked to the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator, grabbing a water bottle and taking a quick sip. When she turned Sallie May was leaning against the door back to the living room. The imp was also smirking.

Stella looked down at herself, seeing nothing amiss. She frowned, turning back to the imp. “What?”

Sallie May glanced sidelong back into the living room, gazing at the piano before turning back to the Goetia. “Yer pretty good with that piano, princess. Anything else yer good at with those hands?” Her grin widened.

Stella grinned, her feathers folding back as she soaked the compliment in with pride. “Of course! Calligraphy and ballroom dancing are some of my specialties. I was trained by the finest teachers in my youth, there’s many things I can do with these hands,” she bragged.

She turned to see Sallie May holding back her laughter, guffaws barely held back by closed lips. Stella’s mind quickly shifted to the last few seconds, the imps question and her own response. She quickly blushed. Her feathers unruffled on reflex, her beak shutting in a nervous tick. She quickly straightened, the indignant blush on her face spreading and turning her white feathers a slight pink.

Sallie May grinned wider. “You don’t mind showin’ me some of that ballroom dancin’ of yours?” She choked back a laugh, the mirth sliding into her words. “Actually, scratch that. We got kids in the house ya know-”

Stella chucked the water bottle at the imps head. Sallie May caught it without a second thought, devolving into a fit of self indulgent laughter. Stella rolled her eyes, catching Arthur’s gaze from the living room. The older imp’s smile hadn’t left. Stella sighed and pulled out a chair by the dining room table. She leaned back against the chair, head resting against the wood. Sallie May’s giggling died away slowly as she took a seat across from Stella. The imp reached out at the dinner table, pushing aside the radio that Joe and Lin were listening to a moment before.

“All jokin’ aside, you do play really well princess. Only other person that played music like that was my damn brother in law.” Sallie May frowned. “Thespian type, looks like he’ll fall if hit by a stiff breeze. Surprised he hasn’t died yet, given his work.” Sallie May shook her head, quickly turning back to the Goetia. “But if ya don’t mind me askin’, where’d you learn?”

Stella sighed as she was thrust into the past. Memories drudged up that she’d rather forget or ignore. “I was professionally taught in Pride when I was a child,” she began. She gestured for the water and Sallie May gave it to her. She took a quick sip before staring at the radio between them, the small radio remained silent. “I would’ve hated it if my brother hadn’t loved it,” she smiled at memories of days spent in front of a piano with her brother singing beside her. “Father had other plans for him. He wanted to craft a warlord out of a child to carry on his legacy. But Andrealphus loved his music, among other things.”

Sallie May raised an eyebrow. “Interestin’ childhood. I couldn’t go a minute without fightin’ with mah brothers and sister,” she leaned forward. “What’s yer secret?”

Stella’s face darkened. Her beak twisted into a sneer, her talons slowly sinking into the dining table, gouging the dark wood. She quickly retracted them when she saw what she was doing, but her feathers still stood on end. “Circumstance. I was locked in that fucking manor for years by an uncaring mother. And Andrealphus was forced into a role he had no interest in, as much a symbol of father’s success as some heir to flaunt in court.” Her feathers quickly straightened out, her intimidating presence disappearing as she pinched the bridge of her beak. She let out a sigh. “We became friends. Best friends, out of necessity. And the little time we spent together was done in song.” She gestured towards the piano with her hand. “I was taught with classical pieces while my brother brought compositions from my fathers conquests. It wasn’t hard to get proficient in piano,” she said, answering both the imps' questions at once.

Sallie May was frowning at the quick explanation. “Andrealphus is yer brother right?” She asked for quick clarification. Stella gave her a curt nod. Sallie May sighed, leaning back against her chair. “Damn. Didn’t know royal life’s that hard.”

Stella nodded. “We rule Hell. Under the gaze of Lucifer and the Sins of course, but we still rule Hell. The weak don’t last long.” Stella placed her hand on the table, her gaze locked on that piano. Her mind swirled with the grim lessons of the past.

She felt Sallie May’s hand grasp hers, turning back to the imp in surprise. Sallie May was giving her a reassuring smile. “Hey, look at me princess,” she said in a soothing tone. Stella did as bidden and looked into the imps' golden eyes. “All that is in the past. You’re with us now, and we take care of our own.” She gave Stella’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

They stayed like that for a time, gazing into each other's eyes. An alien feeling slowly taking over… Stella looked into those eyes that glowed like the sun and carried Wrath’s warmth without the punishing heat. Then the moment was gone. Arthur had stood up, walking over to the dining room. Stella and Sallie May both quickly pulled away from each other. When Arthur entered Sallie May was busy fiddling with the radio while Stella was tapping the water bottle with a bored expression.

“You two havin’ fun in here?” Arthur asked, his voice low and soft.

Sallie May shrugged. “Just talkin’. How about you? Grabbin’ some tea fer the next chapter?”

Arthur nodded, simply warming up some water and grabbing a tea bag from the pantry. He grabbed some honey too, along with a spoon. “Yeah. Shouldn’t be too long though. Can’t hold the boys' attention long these days,” he mused.

Sallie May smirked. “I call bullshit, ye just want to play their games too musclehead.”

Arthur chuckled. “Yer not wrong.” He turned toward Stella. “Yer damn good by the way. Martin wants to learn how to play like that, if you’ve got the time.”

Stella turned to see the youngest of the brothers looking at the piano longingly, his silence holding a weight all its own. “I’ll give him a few pointers. Is there anyone else in town that can teach him?” Arthur turned to her with a questioning glance. “I won’t be here all his life, it wouldn’t do for him to lose this passion simply because I’m gone.” Stella pointed out.

Arthur quickly mellowed out, thinking. “Well… There’s always Lucia.”

Stella shrugged, nodding. “Alright then. I’ll get him started. How long will it take for you to make your tea?”

Arthur already had a warm cup in hand, dropping in the teabag and adding some honey to the mix. He gave her a rueful grin. “Already done. I’ll send Martin to you when I finish up with the chapter.”

Stella shrugged and leaned back against the table. “Of course.”

Arthur turned back to the living room, picking up the book and resuming his spot on the couch. He took an experimental sip of the tea before opening the book and resuming from where he’d left off. Stella and Sallie May listened to him awhile, his words wafting into the dining room. Sallie May kept stealing quick glances at the Goetia, something Stella chose to ignore. Sallie May drummed her fingers against the table, a subtle sign of her troubled thoughts. Stella, however, found herself listless. The drum of light rain on the kitchen window mixing alongside Arthur’s story made Stella’s thoughts turn into a dull buzz. Joe and Lin stood up in the middle of the chapter, heading up to their room. Stella barely noticed it, her eyelids slowly becoming heavy.

She hadn’t realized she drifted off until she was tapped awake by Arthur. The imp gave her a smile and tilted his head toward an imp sitting on the piano stool, his stubby legs dangling from the seat. Stella couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“Just finished up. Martin’s waitin’ for ya. Go ahead when yer ready.”

Stella nodded and stood. A quick glance showed that Sallie May was gone, Stella frowned, slightly disappointed that she had left. Wait. Why am I disappointed…? She shook away the alien feeling and sat down beside Martin, the young imp looking up at her with golden eyes.

Stella looked at the young imp. “Have you been taught piano before?” She asked. Martin shook his head. “Then we’ll start slow,” she said, beginning simple. Notes in C Major slowly wafted up from the living room. Above them the boys laughed and shouted to the backdrop of their games. And underneath that was the drizzle of rain.

The next few days would be the same. Days spent in the house, looking at the world through rain slick windows and listening as music bloomed in the living room. When the sun finally peaked out from the clouds of Wrath it was met with family, mirth, and song.

Chapter Text

“Got a good grip?” Sallie May asked. Arthur nodded. Despite wearing his usual attire of sleeveless vest, black shirt and jeans, he was already sweating. Sallie May wasn’t much better, wiping sweat off her brow with her forearm.  She took a quick look at the family truck, boxes full of produce all packed onto the flatbed. “Alright… Up!” The imps both grunted as they hefted the box onto the flatbed, the stout suspension giving the truck the barest perceptible wobble. “Alright pa, everythings packed!” Sallie May called out to her father.

Joe was leaning against the railing of the front porch, arms crossed as he stared at the crops in front of them. The fields were slowly starting to show signs of progress, their current crop rising from the hard soil. He gave his daughter the briefest grunt of acknowledgement before his gaze wandered back to the fields. Sallie May turned to look at the family’s truck again, stuffed to the brim with produce and various items that could be sold.

She turned to Arthur, pointing at the house with a thumb. “Give me a sec, goin’ to grab the keys.” Arthur gave her a nod and leaned against the truck as she turned back to the house.

Rickety steps creaked underneath as she walked towards the front door. Well worn hinges creaked as she entered the house to see Stella with a feather duster, cleaning above the bookshelf with little difficulty. The Goetia seemed much more comfortable in her country clothes now, wearing a tied button up shirt that showed a scandalous amount of waist and shorts she would have scoffed at wearing a week before. Lin walked in with some fresh sheets in a basket, hobbling towards the staircase leading to the second floor. She caught sight of Sallie May standing in the doorway and placed the filled basket down in front of her.

“You need somethin’? I thought you were goin’ into town today,” she pointed out. The aged imp stretched as she talked, her back audibly cracking as she straightened up.

“Just grabbin’ the keys, ma. How’s Stella doin’?” Sallie May asked.

“I’m doing fine,” Stella interrupted the two imps. She had just finished dusting the bookshelf and made her way to do the same at the mantle of the fireplace. “You wouldn’t be able to buy more champagne would you?”

Sallie May pursed her lips. “No can do, princess. It was pretty expensive the first time,” she said.

Stella’s beak tightened, eyes narrowing slightly. But she shrugged it off, wayward dust causing her to let out a high pitched sneeze that sounded more like a squeak. Recovering quickly, she continued to dust the mantle. “It can’t be helped.”

Sallie May nodded, leaning out of the doorway to grab a pair of keys hanging from a key rack beside the front door. Hands clasped the muted plastic and glistening silver, a multitude of miscellaneous keys and charms dangling on the keyring. She was about to turn before Arthur brushed past her, face grim as he walked up the stairs to his room. Sallie May and Lin looked at each other worriedly.

“I’ll bring the sheets up if ya ask what Arthur’s doin’.” Sallie May offered.

“Deal.” Lin was halfway up the steps by the time Sallie May had grabbed the sheets.

When Sallie May got to the top of the stairs she saw Arthur leaving his room with a black rifle slung over his shoulder. He was already talking with Lin when he caught his sister’s eye. Sallie May raised an eyebrow, nodding towards the slung rifle. Arthur shook his head and gestured to the truck below with a noncommittal wave of his hand. Lin pulled Arthur’s attention back to her with a few choice words, and he looked down at his mother to listen. He’ll tell me when we’re in the truck? Something’s up. Sallie May thought. She hefted the basket in hand and placed it under the family portrait. It was an equal distance between all the rooms, not to mention being the most spacious place to work on the second floor. When she jogged back to the staircase she saw Arthur at the front door. She called out to him and chucked the keys down his way. He caught them and left.

“He tell you anythin’?” Sallie May asked when Lin sighed beside her.

She shook her head. “That boy’s mastered bullshittin’. Answer’s that aren’t answers and assurances that sound hollow.” She sighed. “You go on ahead, I’ve got work to do here.”

Sallie May nodded and walked down the steps two at a time, practically tumbling out the front door. She had barely stepped out when someone grabbed her shoulder. She turned to see Stella keeping her from leaving. There was a sharp look the Goetia held that Sallie May was unfamiliar with. A slight narrowing of the eyes and twist of the beak that made her seem… Alert.

“Your brother’s armed.” She noted.

“He is.” Sallie May confirmed.

The Goetia’s eyes burned an ever deeper crimson with a fire hot enough to rival Wrath’s sun. “Is it the gang again?”

Sallie May became tense at the mention of the gang. She hadn’t heard anything of late other than grumbles of locals that wanted visitors out of their town. “I’m not sure. Maybe there’s a few wild beasts gettin’ too close to the town. Usually happens this time of year. I think we’re fine, he’s always been a bit overprotective.” She looked at Stella with a smirk. “Why, ya worried ‘bout little ol’ me?” She lay her accent on thick, wiggling her eyebrows teasingly at the tall Goetia.

Stella was utterly unfazed at the light teasing. Her eyes searched Sallie May’s gaze for a moment, searching for the smallest lie, the slightest hint of treachery. When she found none she let the imp go. Those burning crimson eyes dimmed as she did so, the Goetia’s focus turning once more to her task. Sallie May’s sass quickly died.

“It’s nothin’ to worry about Stella. Probably just beasts. Nothin’ me or Arthur hasn’t dealt with before.” Sallie May reassured the Goetia.

Stella nodded. “Of course. I won’t keep you any longer, you can go when you’re ready.” She gave the imp a dismissive wave, her attention already focused elsewhere.

They exchanged quick goodbyes as she closed the door behind her. As soon as she walked onto the front porch she heard the deep rumble of the truck coming to life. Arthur was already behind the wheel, his rifle leaned idly against the backseat. She jogged to the passenger seat, hopping inside and closing the door. 

Arthur was busy fiddling with the driver's seat, pushing it back slightly for some legroom. “Stella givin’ you trouble?” he asked.

“She’s just worried. Goin’ to tell me why yer bringin’ that gun?”

Arthur adjusted the rearview mirror, staring at the rifle in the backseat a moment too long. When he spoke it was in a soft spoken bass rumble. “Got a text from Charles. The gang’s been actin’ up lately. Nothin’s come to blows like you an’ the gang leader yet but…” His gaze returned to the weapon in the backseat. 

Sallie May sighed. “Everyone’s on edge I take it?” Arthur gave her a curt nod as he started to pull out of the farm.

Arthur let out an annoyed sigh. “Yeah… It’ll get worse before it gets better.” He quickly began fiddling with the sideview mirrors.

“Hey wait up!” Someone shouted behind them.

They both turned to see Tom running towards them with a toolbox in hand. As middle child as it gets, the imp looked soft. He wore a plain shirt and pants more stains than cloth at this point, along with a pair of working gloves so worn out torching them would’ve been a mercy.

Arthur rolled down his window. “Henry called again?” he asked.

Tom nodded as he hopped into the backseat, deftly setting both rifle and toolbox down beside him. He quickly pulled on his seatbelt. “Yeah! He says he needs help with some new products. Somethin’ bout a new batch of weapons straight from Los Satanio.” The imp grimaced. “Quality control’s started to dip since Satan’s been buyin’ all the good shit.” He clicked the seatbelt into place. “Why’re you bringin’ the rifle, Arthur?”

Arthur let out a sigh, fingers drumming on the steering wheel. “Insurance, Tom. Nothin’ you should worry about.”

Tom frowned. “Come on bro, you can tell me. I’m not five anymore!”

Sallie May grinned, catching a glance of her younger brother from the rear view mirror. “We’ll tell ya when yer voice starts to crack Tom.”

Arthur smirked as Tom rounded on his sister, quickly voicing his complaints. Whatever he said was quickly drowned out as Arthur hit the accelerator. The truck roared to life, speeding out of the farm in seconds. Tom winced as he was pushed back into his seat. Sallie May in turn leaned back and stared out the window. Roy had let the cows out to pasture, their hardened hides glinting dully in the wrathian sun. Martin was busy in the chicken coop too, from what she could tell he was playing with the chickens more than actually working. But her eyes fell on a glimpse of something as the truck trudged forward. She caught the sight of alabaster feathers in the house, the Goetia busy helping Lin as best as she could. A sliver of refinement that had adapted to the coarse world around her. Sallie May turned away when Arthur drove out of sight of the farm. He had turned on the radio, bellicose lyrics and chugging guitar riffs booming from the truck's speakers. Sallie May thought back to days full of storm and song. Maybe I’ll look for her champagne anyway… She had begun to smile when she saw Arthur giving her sidelong glances.

Sallie May turned to him. “What?”

Arthur chuckled, eyes locked on the road. “Nothin’.”

~~~ ~~~

“Take care of him Henry! If he loses a finger our next purchase is free!” Sallie May shouted as Tom ran towards the Trident of Pain.

Henry responded by throwing a hand gesture her way that was best left unsaid. She chuckled as Arthur drove further into town. The streets were busy today, the town square usually used for celebrations like the Harvest Moon Festival had been quickly refurbished to accommodate a farmers market. Usually done monthly during warmer seasons, it was a good excuse to get out of the farm and talk with neighbors while exchanging goods. Still, they had a few stops before they joined their neighbors and set up shop in the square. 

The first stop was the Saloon. Sallie May was surprised to see Antoine had closed up shop for the day. Shutters were closed in the windows, the swing in doors locked as he did repair work on the saloon’s sign. “Saloon” wasn’t a particularly catchy name, but a lack of competition meant he didn’t need to change it. Still, half of the  letters were shot up to the point that they were nearly illegible. The other half were already taken down, broken wood piled up beside the doors. Arthur whistled as they parked in front of the Saloon, looking at the destroyed sign.

Arthur pointed at the swinging doors frame. “Someone was excited.” There were scorch marks along the side of the door. The blast residue extended onto the floorboards too. Gouges of shrapnel mixed in with charred wood and loose debris. An explosion perhaps?

Sallie May grimaced. That would cost a pretty penny to replace…

Antoine was on a ladder, busy ripping off the mangled sign from the front of the Saloon with a crowbar. Shot up wood splintered onto the hellhound. He let out a canid whine as he shook off the debris.

“What in Satan’s shotgun happened here?” Sallie May called out, hopping out of the passenger seat of the truck.

Antoine turned to see the duo get out of the truck. “Mornin’. Yall got the usual for the Saloon I take it?” Arthur was already unlatching the lip of the truck, opening it up and grabbing a few boxes to pull out. There were only a few boxes, but each was labeled and brimming with various foodstuffs for the hellhound to do with as he pleased. “Huh, guess you do. Nice. I’ve got yer payment inside, give me a sec.”
The hellhound grunted as he wrenched off the last of the wood from the sign. Hanging onto the front of the saloon by a few nails, the hellhound pulled the giant letter off with a quick twist of his wrist. He gingerly climbed off the ladder with shot up sign in hand. He threw it down by the stack of destroyed wood, unlatching something behind the swinging doors and pushing them both open. Grabbing a box of produce from the truck, he motioned for Sallie May to follow as he stepped inside.

“Elsie! After you’re done with the pool table, come outside! Arthur and Sallie May have our usual order and it needs to go to the kitchen.”

The doors creaked as she opened them, revealing what was left of the saloon’s interior. Half of the room seemed blasted apart, the other half riddled with holes. “I didn’t do it this time,” Sallie May said instinctively.

Elsie popped her head out of the shadows, holding broken pieces of wood and fabric that had once been the pool table. “Nobody’s sayin’ you did.” She jogged outside, tossing the wood onto Antoine’s pile. She wiped her brow as she sauntered back to the countertop, picking up an envelope and tossing it at Sallie May. “Here’s yer payment for the food.”

Sallie May thumbed through the banknotes. “You want Arthur to bring the food in through the loading dock? We won’t get in the way of cleanin’ up.”

Antoine shook his head, his gaze roaming the destroyed saloon in front of him. “No… Me and Elsie can bring things into the kitchen from here. I’ll get some of the imps in back to help. When they’re done with the repairs at least…”

Sallie May raised an eyebrow. “Great, it’ll save Arthur’s back at least… What in the seven rings happened here Antoine? Really? Only time the saloon’s been this trashed was uh… Last harvest moon festival…”

Antoine raised an eyebrow. “How ‘bout the last mayoral election?”

Sallie May pursed her lips. “An’ the great hunt a few years back…”

Antoine was starting to smile. “Don’t forget the gang war.”

Sallie May rounded on the hellhound. “Hey! That wasn’t my fault!” She punched his shoulder as he burst out laughing, although she couldn’t help smiling ruefully at the memory.

Elsie crossed her arms, staring at the destroyed saloon. “This was that fuckin’ gangs fault. They got too drunk, started a fight that escalated pretty quick. I was tryin’ to settle it when some of ‘em started raidin’ the alcohol to drink or throw. Someone drops a cigar and…” She pantomimed an explosion with a growl. “Whoever that Goetia is, I hope they find her soon. That damn gang is really startin’ to overstay its welcome.” She sighed and stepped outside to help Arthur, tossing Antoine’s crowbar back to him. Antoine caught it as he stepped outside alongside her.

Sallie May followed them, tucking the envelope into a back pocket. She turned to Antoine as he hobbled back up his ladder. “Anythin’ else you're low on?”

Antoine thought for a moment, ears flicking in the heat. “More potatoes… I was already low when this all started, now I’m practically scrapin’ the bottom of the barrel.”

Sallie May turned to Arthur. “You heard the man Arthur, more potatoes!”

Arthur nodded and grabbed a box worth, handing it to Elsie with little aplomb. The potatoes tumbled within as she took the burden and walked inside. The hellhound let out a ghost of a whine as he saw the amount given to him.

“I… Didn’t mean this much , I just needed a little bit.”

Elsie laughed from within the Saloon. “Bullshit! This’ll last us fer a while, Antoine. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth and all that.”

Sallie May smirked, waving away the hellhounds displeasure. “Consider it payin’ for my tab.”.

The hellhound sighed and pulled his attention back to the shot up sign. Arthur and Sallie May in turn helped Elsie with the rest of Antoine’s order. When they were finished they saw Antoine had begun hammering in replacement wood for the sign. A jar of paint baked in the sun beside him, a roller stained white waiting for use.

“We’re headin’ out Antoine. Is poker night with the boys still on this weekend?” Arthur asked as he moved to the driver's seat of the truck.

Antoine nodded. “I’ll bring some booze but there’s no way I’m playin’ this week. Got to save up for more repairs.”

Arthur twisted the key into the ignition, the truck rumbling to life. “Got it. We’ll keep the bets low then. Hey sis! Close up the back!” he shouted over the rumble of the engine. Sallie May nodded and closed up the flatbed, running to hop into the passenger seat.

She hopped in and put the envelope in the glove compartment. “Alright, next is the cathouse right?”

Arthur nodded. “Yep.”

The truck rumbled on to the sound of Antoine ripping off another part of the sign. The hellhounds shrank in the rearview mirror as they drove deeper into town. There was little conversation between the siblings. Arthur’s attention was focused on the road, and Sallie May was focused on the winding streets they drove past. These streets were full of neighbors and unfamiliar faces alike. The gang members were few but they all moved in groups. Bellicose imps and hellhounds full of sneers or cocky grins, weapons displayed out in the open, daring anyone to get in their way. The rest of the town simply didn’t care, calling the isolated groups on their bluster and moving about their day. The crowds still parted for the crowd, however. The gang walked bubbles of their own isolation as they went about their day. The truck rumbled on in a sluggish pace, their progress through the busy street slow and steady. It wasn’t long before they found themselves in front of the town's cathouse. 

While brothels were frowned upon in more upstanding parts of Wrath like Los Satanio, the frontier towns like Last Respite held no such reservations. Energy spent in a bar fight was spent just as well indulging in carnal passions, and the result wasn’t a broken nose and a trip to the sheriff to “cool off”. Visitors also didn’t seem to mind. These queens of the night weren’t to be taken advantage of, however. Their protection was evidence enough when Arthur and Sallie May drove up to the front of the “Sinner’s Kiss”. A two story building extravagantly adorned with filigree and sinuous designs alongside the carvings of dancing demons emblazoned on the front doors. These same doors slammed open in a rush, imps and hellhounds alike thrown out by burly guards of the establishment. Sallie May looked at the demons thrown to the curb, sneering when she realized some of them were a part of Will’s personal entourage when they last met.

“The fuck furball!” one of the imps growled,  getting up just to get kicked back down by one of the hellhound guards.

“No money? No service.” The hellhound responded. Moving to close the door.

Arthur honked the horn quickly, catching the hellhound's attention. “Hey, we’ve got some food for the Madam. You want us heading to the loading dock in the back?”

The hellhound nodded. “Yeah Arthur, head to the back. Madam Lucia will talk to you both personally. Go ahead.”

Arthur nodded and turned into a narrow alleyway barely big enough for the truck to fit in. They trudged along until settling in front of a much more humble loading dock. Steel revolving doors stared back at them, far more utilitarian than the extravagant entrance. Sallie May and Arthur quickly hopped out of the truck, opening up the flatbed and grabbing a few boxes full of vegetables. A handful of imps opened the doors and rushed forward to help. Sallie May and Arthur stayed atop the truck, passing boxes to the imps. It didn’t take them long to finish, the truck already felt much lighter by the time the last box was pulled into the revolving door.

“Alright, time to get payment,” Arthur said as he hopped off the truck and locked it.

Sallie May joined him, the duo entering the double doors to see a kitchen area of stark white walls and busy imps. The duo exchanged quick greetings with the staff they knew.

Sallie May pulled one of the imps to the side with a light tap on the shoulder. The imp was a petite thing, a frail girl wearing a button up shirt and dress pants. “Hey Erin, do ya know where Madam Lucia is?”

“She’s on the first floor with a few of the girls in the lounge. Bit of a slow day today.” she replied.

A burly imp busy hauling one of the boxes overhead and shook his head. “She’s not talkin’ with the girls. She’s talkin’ to Charles. Givin’ him an earful.”

Sallie May and Arthur both winced at the news.

“We’ll be discreet. Thanks,” Arthur said, turning through the winding halls of the kitchen towards the front of the cathouse.

The kitchen quickly bled away into a much more extravagant room. Their boots clicked on hardwood floors occupied by mahogany furniture carved in flowing design and adorned with plush pillows. Imp’s and hellhounds scantily clad or wearing robes sat on most of the furniture, their gazes locking on the farmers as they entered the room. A staircase with railings in muted bronze rose alongside a wall displaying a gaudy painting of lusty pursuits. Barbed words cut through the air around them, Sallie May and Arthur turning to see a group of demons near the front door.

A succubus in a flowing crimson dress was scolding Sheriff Charles in a low but pointed voice. She idly twirled a lock of hair as she spoke, mid length black hair waving to the whims of her angered movements.

Charles was pulling at his collar, a slight frown settled on his face as he listened to the succubus continue to rant. “Madam Lucia. I can appoint more security here if need be. We’re just stretched thin because of the farmer’s market. It’ll be like that for the next few days.”

Madam Lucia scoffed, black wings fluttering indignantly behind her. “Security is all well and good when it’s present , sheriff. My girls are armed, but they’re dainty and frail for a reason.” Her eyes narrowed as she pointed to the duo of hellhounds by the door. “Two hellhounds can kick out four imps and a mangy dog with little problem. But that situation changes when half of that damn gang decides to use my girls without paying.”

Charles raised an eyebrow. “I doubt that’ll happen, Lucia.” The succubus shot him a glare, her fretfully wagging tail curling with its spaded tip pointed at his throat. “I doubt that’ll happen, Madam . The gang’s usually in the Boarding House or the saloon.”

Lucia’s yellow and red eyes glowed as she pursed her lips. “The saloon’s been shot up, sheriff. And the Boarding House will soon follow. I am not accommodating customers that not only treat my employees roughly but refuse to pay ,” her last few words dripped with malice. She leaned forward, staring down at the imp. “What would the town think if you can’t even protect the whorehouse , sheriff? You weren’t born here, I believe they’d be much less accommodating of failure.”

Charles sneered, eyes narrowing. “You’re no native either, miss.”

Arthur cleared his throat, a small attempt to de escalate. “Madam Lucia. We’re here for our payment.”

The succubus quickly straightened, turning slightly to look Arthur in the eye. It was a graceful move, the twist of a shoulder and a half step to glance behind her. It was a move that would have enthralled any if they didn’t see the burning anger in her eyes.

“Ah, good. My cooks tell me the pantry was running low. And we pride ourselves with all indulgences here, sexual or otherwise. Isn’t that right?” she asked the rest of the room.

Her staff responded with whoops and cheers.

Charles pulled his hat low. “So the steaks are back,” he muttered.

Madam Lucia’s tail quickly snaked out, spanking the sheriff on the ass. “They’ll be back when I get my protection, sheriff.”

Sallie May scoffed. “Cmon Charles, there’s better stuff on the menu than just steak,” Lucia began to smile. “I didn’t mean yer boys and girls miss.” Sallie May pointed out. Lucia rolled her eyes. Sallie May stepped up beside Arthur, placing a hand on her hip and gesturing behind her to the kitchen. “Anyhow, as my brother said. Yer pantry’s all filled up. We’ll be out of yer hair in a bit.”

Lucia sighed and nodded, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Of course. I should thank you, giving me a distraction from the debacle that was this morning,” she turned towards Charles. Her tone turned mollifying and soft. A far cry from the dripping malice of moments before. “Please, Charles. One or two more hounds is all I need. Or burly imps at least. Those barbarians shacked up in the Boarding House seem more intent on chasing my boys and girls than the Goetia at this point.”

Charles set his cap back on with a grieved sigh. “I’ll have a few of the guys sent over here as security,” he chuckled, cracking a smile at the succubus. “A few of the well disciplined guards, mind you. I’d rather not have my men samplin’ your goods while on duty either.”

Lucia returned the sheriff's smile with one of her own. “See? That wasn’t so hard was it?”

Charles grumbled, stepping away and calling out to one of the hellhounds. Lucia watched the imp as he set about to leave. She turned to Sallie May and Arthur, hands clasped in front of her with a mollifying smile.

“I apologize for you two seeing that. But with the worst out of the way, let’s get you both your payment.”

She walked up towards the second floor, heels clicking on the hardwood staircase. Sallie May and Arthur quickly followed. They walked up to the second floor to see a hall lined with rooms on both ends. Madam Lucia walked with purpose through the plush carpet on the hall, ignoring the few lusty sighs muffled by the walls. She quickly opened the door to her office, letting the imps inside before closing the door behind her.

The office was as lavish as the rest of the cat house. A landscape painting of Lust dominated the wall across from a desk of carved purple wood. A window dominated the wall between, showing the wrathian wastes. A lavish plush chair stood behind the desk beside a wine cabinet full of expensive drinks and glassware. Lucia sat down at her desk with a heavy sigh. She opened a drawer and rummaged around inside it, grabbing a checkbook and quill pen. She wrote down their payment and ripped off the check and handed it to Arthur. The ink had barely dried, flowing script and a neat hand showing their compensation for services rendered.

“That should cover everything,” Lucia said.

Arthur nodded in thanks. He blew on the check, making sure the ink dried properly before stuffing it in a pocket. He turned and left the office without a second glance back. Sallie was about to join him, but her eyes locked on the wine cabinet behind the succubus.

Lucia caught her eye, then turned to see what the imp was staring at. “Never took you to be interested in wine, Sallie May.” Lucia tutted as she turned towards the wine cabinet. She pulled out a key with a flourish, pushing it into a silver lock and opening the cabinet. She pulled out glassware and a bottle. “Care for a drink? We’re all friends here,” she grabbed a corkscrew from her desk as well.

“Actually…  I was wonderin’ if you were willin’ to part with one of them.” Sallie May said slowly. Trying to hide a timidness not often seen.

Lucia raised an eyebrow. “These are expensive drinks. Are you sure you can afford a replacement?”

Sallie May shut her mouth, a frown starting to form. “... Yes?”

Lucia had the corkscrew in hand, but her eyes were locked on Sallie May. A grin was starting to form. A knowing grin.

“Your family’s never asked for such drinks, from here or the Saloon…” she began. “Imagine my surprise when Antoine tells me you bought champagne from him a week or two back…” her smile widened when she saw Sallie May eyes dart away. “I take it this is for a friend? A close friend by the looks of it.”

Sallie May’s blush turned her already crimson cheeks darker. “Just a friend, nuthin’ more.”

Lucia’s let out a deep chuckle. “Of course, just a friend…” The succubus spoke in a lilting, teasing tone. “Was there anything in particular that this friend had asked for? I have some absinthe here as well.”

Sallie May thought back to the first time Stella had asked for a drink, grasping for half remembered memory. But something came to her mind. “Do you have anything from Lilith’s vineyard?”

Lucia whistled, raising an eyebrow.  “That’s a vintage from Pride. Highly sought out by those in the know. Luckily…” She reached back into the wine cabinet and produced a wine bottle the color of blood. Black vellum made up the label, a golden apple painted on the front. “Lilith’s Vineyard” was emblazoned in flowing white lettering, almost illegible in the ancient cursive text. “I have two of these drinks, and the quicker I dispose of these the better,” she put the wine bottle on the desk.

Sallie May frowned when she stared at the drink, then saw a faded price tag dangling from a string. Her eyes widened at the price, wondering how many zeroes someone could put behind a number. “I… I can’t have this…” She muttered.

Lucia laughed, leaning forward and bracing herself on the desk with her elbows. “Oh yes you can,” she said. Her eyes focused on the imp with a conspiratorial glint. Her lips adopted a coy, knowing half smile. “The man or woman to enthrall the imp that consistently gets top prizes in the town's pain games must be quite the individual. And considering their tastes… They must be a wealthy one at that. They can compensate me easily.”

Sallie May turned to the succubus with narrowed eyes. She gripped the drink tighter. “She’s just a friend, Lucia. Nuthin’ more.”

Lucia grinned wider. “It’s a she then? Be careful what you say Sallie May. People are listening. That gang leader’s been asking around for… Interesting activity. But after today I’m not willing to indulge him with such information.” She sighed and pushed herself away from the desk. “Go ahead and take it. Consider it goodwill for always keeping my pantries stocked.” Sallie May turned to leave, taking hold of the bottle by its neck, but a whistle from the succubus had the imp turn around one last time.. “As for your payment… Insurance. If anyone were to mistreat my girls I can count on you to handle it.” A small price to pay. Sallie May accepted with a wordless nod. “Oh! And tell me how this lady of yours enjoys the vintage. Along with any other juicy details.” Lucia grinned, eyes flashing at the prospect of a raunchy tale.

Sallie May sputtered. “I-I ain’t sayin’ shit!”

Lucia laughed. “You won’t, but your brother very well might. Go ahead and take the vintage.” She couldn’t help but wink. “And enjoy the drink.”

Sallie May huffed and stomped towards the office door, slamming it shut behind her. Lucia gave the imp a knowing look, chuckling as she turned her head to the window and the wrathian landscape beyond.

~~~ ~~~

Arthur gave her a questioning look when she entered the truck with wine bottle in hand, but refused to comment as they backed up to the main road. They restocked a handful of other shops in town before finally making their way to the farmers market. Their neighbors had set up stands or simply driven their trucks filled with produce into the town square. A few of the families had also brought craft items to sell in the form of wood carvings, forged weapons, and a multitude of clothes. Sallie May and Arthur followed the business practice of their neighbors, simply hanging a sign on the side of their truck listing their goods and the meager prices for each. Arthur had pulled out his rifle though, setting it down beside the sign. Sallie May caught the gaze of her neighbors, and she quickly saw that a few of them were lightly armed. Revolvers and pistols were paired with knives and hatchets. Nothing to write home about, but more armament than expected. She frowned as she turned to her brother.

“Looks like Charles is gettin’ a bit concerned about the gang.” She said, gesturing towards the few other families armed at the market.

Arthur turned and gave the town square a quick glance, frowning when he locked gazes with some familiar faces. They gave him solemn nods when they saw his rifle propped on the side of the truck. “Elsie started it but he carried through. Seem’s he’s not fuckin’ around anymore with our guests. Considerin’ what we saw at the Saloon and the Sinner’s Kiss I’m not surprised.” Arthur sneered and pointed towards a few gang members, all armed to the teeth. “That doesn’t seem to be stoppin’ em though. That or they’re just oblivious to the fact that the town wants them gone.”

Sallie May turned to see the gang members walking around with a confidence and swagger that was grossly misplaced. Some of them were haggling with the farmers, souls exchanged for a fruit or two as they went along with their business. Most of the gang members, however, seemed to be itching to get into trouble. Derisive stares and challenging grins were spread along the cockier imps and hellhounds not native to the town. They palmed their pistols and knife sheaths, almost desperate for a good brawl. Most of the town ignored them though, even if their own weapons were close at hand.

A young, chipper voice pulled Sallie May’s attention away from the roving band of gang members. “Sallie May! How much fer the cabbages?”

Sallie May turned to see an imp that barely came up to her hip. He was clad in overalls and a hat. The kid looked up at her with a bucktooth smile that warmed the heart.

“Half a soul per pound, how much do ya need?” Sallie May replied with a smile.

The kid was already grabbing a few cabbages and counting out his souls with a deft hand. Sallie May placed the cabbages in a bag and sent the little imp off on his way, her gaze returned to the gang members that seemed to be patrolling the market more than wandering around town. Still, for all of their bluster the gang kept to themselves, mostly, and business went off without a hitch. Arthur and Sallie May settled into a routine of haggling and distributing their goods under the cruel wrathian sun. They chatted about old times and upcoming events with their neighbors, and whispering in hushed tones about local gossip with their customers. 

The sun began dipping into the horizon, casting the sky a deep orange as the day began to wind down. It was at dusk that shouting bloomed from a side of the farmers market close to them. Sallie May and Arthur exchanged glances.

“Grab the rifle. I’ll meet you there,” Sallie May said.

Arthur was already grabbing a bandolier of magazines from the truck, tossing it over a shoulder and hefting the rifle up by its sling. Sallie May in turn closed the truck and tossed the sign in back, turning and jogging to the sound of shouting. 

She quickly saw a gang member arguing in front of one of the stalls. An imp had been selling drinks to the crowds to beat the heat, but he was selling some cheap booze too. The spirits glittered dully in the setting sun, but that didn’t seem to stop a muscular hellhound in a sleeveless vest outshouting the imp behind the counter. Beside him were two other hellhounds and an imp.

“If ya can’t pay fer cheap booze maybe try sobriety fer a change ya fuckin furball! Now go on! Git! I have actual customers to sell to!” the imp shouted at the hellhound.

“And where else am I going to get a drink? The Saloon’s shot up, the whorehouse hasn’t let us in, and the Boarding House is tapped dry! Besides, what are you going to do if I take it anyway? Shoot me?” the hellhound barked a laugh, grabbing a bottle of cheap booze from the counter.

The imp moved to take the drink from the hellhound's hand, grasping the end of the bottle. Another gang member responded by pistol whipping the imp, laughing as the stall owner stumbled back a few steps, gripping his jaw. The gang members started raiding the stall, grabbing whatever cheap booze they could get.

“What do you think yer doin’!?” Sallie May shouted,  unsheathing her knuckle knife in a flourish.

The gang turned to her with unimpressed glares, already beginning to drink the stolen goods in full view of everyone else. A handful of Sallie May’s neighbors were already reaching for their weapons, but some grinned as they watched Sallie May turn on the gang with fury in her eyes and steel in her fist.

The hellhound smirked as he raised an eyebrow. “What. You want a drink too? Sorry toots, it’s all taken,” he laughed as he pulled the stopper on the drink.

“I take it yer not keen on payin’.” Sallie May growled, already leaning forward and rolling her shoulders.

The hellhound laughed. “Nope. What’re you goin’ to do. Punch me?”

Sallie May scoffed as she stepped in front of the hellhound. He towered over her, to his detriment. “Yeah, that was the plan.” Sallie May said, tilting her head up. “Now I’ll give ya one chance to pay fer my friend's booze, not to mention help him up from the hit you gave him. Or things are gonna get ugly.” She slowly tensed her fists, her knuckle knife gleaming in the setting sun.

The hellhound turned to his companions, and they all quickly laughed. “Yer making demands with nothing but some fancy knuckle dusters? Fuck off. You’re outnumbered and outgunned.”

A quick look behind showed Arthur standing a few paces behind her. He unslung his rifle with a confident smirk. In response the hellhounds opened their vests to show machine pistols. The imp beside them did the same, a sawn off shotgun hidden in a shoulder holster.. Arthur didn’t even blink, simply checking the chamber of his rifle. He walked up to the hellhound, standing beside his sister.

“You really want to do this? Things won’t end well,” he warned.

The hellhound raised an eyebrow, ears twitching with an annoyed tick. “Do you not see what my boys are packing!?”

Arthur rolled his eyes and shouldered his rifle, the barrel pointed at the ground. “I see that you and yer band of pussies don’t have enough bullets.”

The hellhound growled and moved to strike, bringing a muscled arm back to throw a haymaker at Arthur. Sallie May moved like lightning, punching the hand that came forward. The hellhound's fist broke under Sallie May’s knuckle knife. His confidence died at the sound of cracked bone. He let out a panicked wail, black blood trickling from sundered muscle. In a flash the gang had their guns out, trained on the siblings.

Arthur gave the gang members a bored look before turning to his sister. “How do you want to do this? I reckon we don’t need to hide bodies this time.”

Sallie May grimaced. “Nonlethal.” Arthur raised an eyebrow at his sister. She returned it with a shrug. “I’d kill em, but I don’t want Charles and Ox givin’ me an earful about collateral damage again.”

Arthur barked out a laugh as he brought his rifle to bear. “Sounds good to me, I’d rather not deal with paperwork either.”

The hellhounds were the first to fire. Machine pistols held at the hip as pistol rounds peppered the street. Arthur dove to the side, sighting down his rifle and shooting at their hands as Sallie May punched the hellhound in front of her in the groin. He collapsed with a pathetic whine, his grip on his stolen booze failing him. Sallie May grabbed the drink in stride and threw it at the imp with the shotgun, the glass shattered in his face. His shot went wide, buckshot fired into the sky as he fumbled with the glass shards. Sallie May laughed and kicked the wounded hellhound in front of her, the gang member stumbling and falling on the imp with the shotgun. The two hellhounds were pulling out knives, but Arthur shot those as well, Sallie May running forward as the two hellhounds now stood unarmed.

One pushed forward with a quick punch, Sallie May dodged underneath and drove a side hook under an exposed armpit. She followed up quickly with a punch to the chin as the hellhound collapsed. She barely registered the hellhound falling when her attention turned on the last gang member.

A gunshot blew up the dirt between them and Sallie May stopped, turning to see who fired.

Charles stalked towards the crowd with a coach gun resting on his shoulder. Will, the gang leader, was beside him. Behind them a handful of Charles’s deputies walked up with rifles in hand. Will’s eyes squinted in the long shadows of dusk, his hand holding up a revolver pointed up to the sky. Neither of them seemed too happy about the situation. Around them a crowd had formed as well, a handful of townsfolk were armed with pistols and blades. Despite the armed townsfolk Will was shouting obscenities, gun barrel smoking as he blustered and roared, but Sallie May ignored him. He wasn’t going to do shit. Her focus was on Charles, who closed the distance until he stood in front of her.

“Sallie May.”

“Sheriff.”

“What happened?”

She turned to see the imp that owned the stall slowly getting up, covering a bloody nose. “Just some frontier justice. Folk here don’t take too kindly when foreigners start takin’ what isn’t theirs without payin’. Isn’t that right Will?” she sneered as she turned towards the gang leader.

He growled, about to raise his pistol again, but Charles stepped between them quickly.

“Did ya kill anyone this time?” Charles asked in an inquisitive growl. His usually hard glare held a weariness that hinted at his lack of patience and a day wasted dealing with similar incidents.

Sallie May sighed, turning and helping Arthur up from the dirt. “No, sheriff. Nobody’s dead. No major injuries either.” She turned to see the first hellhound clutching his groin with a whimper. “Mostly.”

Charles pinched the bridge of his nose. “I would arrest you right now but we both know it wouldn’t do shit.” He sighed. Pulling off his hat and running a hand through white hair. “Satan, you did what half the town wants to do to em at this point… Run into the crowd, I’ll deal with Will an’ his cronies.”

Arthur slung his rifle over his shoulder, already shielding Sallie May from Will’s death glare. “We owe you one Charles.”

Charles sneered. “More than one, Arthur. I saved her ass in the Saloon a week back too.” He turned and shielded the siblings as they disappeared in the crowd, handcuffs and rope in hand. He quickly tied up the gang members too beaten up to resist. “Yall have rights, but you probably heard ‘em enough times to say ‘em by rote. Either way yer bein’ arrested for attempted robbery and assault.”

Will stepped towards the sheriff with a sneer. “Wait a damn second sheriff, you’re goin’ to arrest my men !? Right in front of me!?”

Charles turned back with as much vitriol. “I’m busy detaining criminals Will. And to be frank I have had it dealin’ with the bullshit your boys are puttin’ this town through. The Saloon, the Sinner’s Kiss, what’s next!? You say you’re lookin’ for a Goetia but you haven’t stepped out of the town in weeks! If you have any complaints I’ll listen to them back at the office!”

Sallie May lost the sound of their bickering in the crowd as they parted for the siblings. They found the farmer’s market all but deserted, their truck in sight. Sallie May entered the passenger seat as Arthur threw his rifle and bandolier into the backseat, letting out a groan as he got behind the wheel.

Sallie May wiped blood off her knuckle knife before sheathing it. “Shit, we still gotta get Tom…” she groaned.

Arthur crossed his arms over the steering wheel, resting his head on his arms for a bit. “I know…” he grumbled before pushing himself up. He twisted the key in the ignition, but remained staring out the windshield. “This is goin’ to get worse before it gets better. A lot worse.”

Sallie May nodded solemnly. “I know.”

Arthur sighed and drove the truck out of the town square, making his way towards the Trident’s Pain to pick up their younger brother. They found him on his phone in the front of the store, waiting to get picked up.

“Hey, I’ve been textin’ you guys fer a while now. Somethin’ happened at the town square. Yall see anything?”

Arthur and Sallie May exchanged glances. Arthur turned to their brother with a shrug. “Nope, didn’t see shit. Cmon, get in.”

The imp nodded and quickly hopped in the backseat. He turned to Arthur’s rifle, the distinct smell of gunsmoke filling the truck. He cast a glance at Arthur, but the oldest sibling kept his eyes on the road.

~~~ ~~~

The trip back was uneventful. Tom jumped out of the backseat as soon as the truck lurched to a stop. Arthur followed soon after, rifle and bandolier taken from the backseat as he walked up the stairs. Sallie May moved to join him, but her phone buzzed in her pocket. She glanced at the contact with concern. It was Charles. She accepted the call, bringing the phone to her ear.

“Sallie May speakin’,” she said.

“You comin’ back to town any time in the next few weeks?” The sheriff asked. There was a coldness to his voice. One that brooked no argument.

“No, why?” she asked.

“Good. Keep it that way. Will’s on the warpath. Pretty protective of his boy’s. I reckon they’re lookin’ fer you as much as they’re lookin’ fer this Goetia now… Don’t worry, nobody in town said anythin’. They’ve got the whole area to cover, and they would’ve been at the ranch already if they knew where you lived. Just keep yer head down.”

Sallie May frowned. “You won’t need any help in case they get uppity?”

Charles chuckled on the other end of the call. “Nah, if shit goes down I’ll deputize Elsie.”

Sallie May bit her lip with worry. “Shit… That bad huh?”

There was silence on the other side of the line. “... Yeah.”

Sallie May sighed. “Alright. I’ll lay low, thanks Charles.”

“Don’t mention it. Between you and me? It was bad enough gettin’ involved in this Goetia business,” the sheriff paused, as if he wanted to say more. “Just take care of yourself, alright?”

“Sure thing Charles. You too.”

The phone pinged dully as the call ended. Sallie May opened the glove compartment to pull out the money earned alongside the gifted bottle of wine. She barely registered picking up the bottle as she walked back into the house. She entered with a slight hunch, brow furrowed in thought. Stay low… We should be alright. Food isn’t an issue. We already stocked up on ammo and medical supplies, we still got the bear traps downstairs if we need to set up a defense. We can fall back to the hills if we need to abandon the farm… I wish Millie was here… Joe and Lin ain’t gettin’ any younger, if one of them got too hurt to work the land if we were attacked…

“... May? Sallie May? Are you doin’ alright hon?” Lin was in front of her, clutching the souls and the check that Madam Lucia had given Arthur. Sallie May hadn’t even realized she gave it to her. 

“Huh? Oh, just fine ma.” She smiled and handed the wine bottle to her mother as well. “You don’t mind puttin’ this in the pantry downstairs do ya?”

Lin took the expensive vintage with a quick nod, raising an eyebrow at the price. “How’d you pay fer this?”

“Favor for a favor.” Sallie May said distractedly as she turned towards a room in easy reach throughout the house.

She stepped into a room well kept, Tom was inside setting down his toolbox by a workbench. The lights were off, the warm glow from the corridor illuminating a large square table at the center of the room.

“Hey sis, what’re you up to?” he asked.

She pointed a thumb to the corridor outside. “Out. I need to check our inventory.”

Tom moved to argue, but he saw his sister’s crossed arms and foot tapping nervously on the hardwood floor. He bit back whatever he was going to say and quickly ran outside of the room. Sallie May whispered a quick thanks as she shut the door behind her, turning on the lights.The room bristled with weaponry new and old. Long guns and polearms lined the walls beside the workbench holding Tom’s toolbox. Gun cabinets and weapon racks lined the walls beside her. Vicious blades and cruel bludgeons were mixed with a dizzying array of gunsteel, wood finish, and black plastic. On the table in the center of the room bullets and knives lay scattered against its top. She saw the steel ammo Henry had given them a week before, partially stored beside a mountain of well categorized brass.

She thumbed her knuckle knife as she began to circle the room, hand idly touching weapon cabinets as she took a quick inventory. Roy’s old enough to fight now, but still can’t fire any large caliber rifles for long… If I need to, I’ll have him defend our younger brothers… Arthur and I can defend the front, but we’ll be in for a world hurt if we’re surrounded… Fuck, the neighbors are too far away to come in time if we need reinforcements… She didn’t know she was biting her lip until it broke, tasting iron on her tongue as black blood swirled in her mouth. She couldn’t care less. Hallways are too small for the polearms, maybe the swords and axes… She picked up her brothers machete, feeling its familiar weight. Fuck, what about Stella? Does she even know how to fight? Are her demonic powers even usable yet? She felt herself spiraling as she moved towards the handguns, large and small bore pistols glittering underneath flickering lamplight.

“Sallie May?” Stella’s voice pierced the mad rumblings in the imps head and she turned. The Goetia took a look around the room, her eyes landing back on the imp. A look of understanding crossed her face. “Take a breath, assess the situation. What can you do now?”

Sallie May blinked. “Pardon?”
She leaned against the door as she spoke. “Rage is nothing without planning, and rage turns into panic if the problem is too large. So break it apart.” The noblewoman stepped forward, her hands settling down on the table in the middle of the room. “What can you do now?”

It was only now that Sallie May realized her heart was thundering in her head. She took the Goetia’s advice and took a breath, reassessed the situation. “Right now? Sit and wait… Any trouble in town will probably blow over after a few weeks…” she answered.

Stella raised an eyebrow. “The gang’s still in town then?”

Sallie May gave her a nod.

Stella frowned, and extended her talons. Dainty fingers became sharp as darkness swirled at her fingertips. Her visage seemed to flicker, alabaster feathers burning white as shadows lengthened. Darkness swirled around the lightbulb in the weapons room, and all Sallie May could see was the Goetia’s crimson eyes amidst almost blinding white feathers. In a flash the shadows disappeared, Stella grasping her side with a hissing breath. 

“It won’t be long until I get my powers back. And when that happens you’ll have the power of a Goetia by your side.” Stella’s smile was cruel. “Patience, my little imp. Wait for your opponent to make a mistake or become complacent before you deal your first blow. Now come along, you’ve had a long day. The food Lin and I cooked will get cold soon.” The Goetia turned away, claws clicking against the floor.

Sallie May’s attention turned to the weapons surrounding her. Her brief panic reined in by the Goetia’s words. She shook her head as her thoughts turned back to Stella. One hell of a woman. With those powers of hers returning, we can kick Will out of Last Respite without much trouble. But she’s still having problems. What if… Her gaze turned towards the pistol cabinet. An idea formed in her mind. 

She grinned as she left the room, closing the door and heading to the dining room for a late dinner. She saw Arthur downing some soup alongside half a loaf of bread. Most of the dinner spread tonight had been finished by her brothers already, Joe and Lin nowhere to be seen. Stella sat at her corner of the dining room table, gingerly eating some salad. Beside her another bowl of soup and the other half of Arthurs breadloaf sat untouched.  Sallie May quickly sat down, eating the food in front of her quick enough to barely taste it. When she finished with a relieved sigh she found Stella casting furtive glances at her while finishing the salad. Sallie May moved to pick up the dirty bowl and utensils, but Stella stopped her with a hand.

“Go to bed, Sallie May. I’ll wash everything tonight,” she said.

Sallie May raised an eyebrow. “You’re offerin’ to do chores now?”

Stella gave her a withering glare. “Are you really going to say no to my philanthropy, imp?”

Sallie May snorted back a laugh as she stood up. “No. Fuck, I’m tired. You headin’ upstairs after you finish up?”

Stella shook her head. “I’m going to relax down here for a bit longer. Go ahead without me. I won’t take long.”

Sallie May did so. Ready for bed in a flash, she flopped onto a mattress that creaked and sank into newly laundered sheets, the smell enticing her with rest and a new day. But her mind wouldn’t let her. She fell asleep to thoughts of worry and defense. Thoughts of a gang staying longer than they should, along with a guest that was slowly becoming family… The last thought put a smile on her face though, a smile that persisted when worried thoughts gave way to uneasy dreams.

Chapter Text

Stella was staring at the hellish cow in front of her. It was a bovine with horns that curled forward into wicked points and a forehead reinforced with skeletal plate. Those same plates seemed to extend over its back and sides, only its underbelly and joints were truly unarmored. It stared back with the same bored expression as its sisters, taking bites out of the yellow grass in front of it.

“So I’m supposed to stay here and watch the cows the entire morning?” she lamented. 

Roy let out a snort. “Yep.”

The thin imp was busy grooming another one of the cows, using some barbed tool to clean gunk between the armored plates. He was shushing the animal as he did so, lovingly tending to it with a few reassuring words. He turned back towards Stella with much less care, however.

“You’ll be with ‘em the entire mornin’. Some of the cows tend to go explorin’ when we clean ‘em. One of them gets too far from the herd and the beasts will run down the hills in the blink of an eye.” He knocked the plated forehead of the animal in front of him. “These plates don’t do shit when yer surrounded.” Roy traced a line over his midsection. “It just takes a few beasts to distract, the others go to rip open the stomach.”

Stella grumbled in dismay as she turned her attention back to the cows in front of her. The cattle had been let out to graze once again, but with the caveat of a grooming session from Roy. A handful of cows had surrounded him obediently and waited their turn. The rest of the cows were busy grazing in the fields, their heads bowed low as they nibbled on the grass. Wind whistled through the farm as it carried away the heat, chimes twinkling and wood creaking in protest.

Stella would have enjoyed it if her job wasn’t so bloody dull . She sighed and leaned back against the wooden fence, counting the cows one more time in some vain attempt to push away boredom. In the corner of her eye Joe and Arthur were knuckle deep tending the cropland. Lin and Sallie May were nowhere to be seen, while the youngest boys were doing some repair work on the chicken pen from the storm. For all of their work it was much more freeing than being in Stolas’s mansion, however. Oppressive walls that held nothing but gloom, exotic plants that had thorns or bit her if she got close. Her many responsibilities always looming in the back of her mind. She’d take Wrath’s heat any day over Pride’s drudgery.

Responsibilities… Lucifer’s wings, it's been so long since I’ve thought of that. Octavia with her studies, what little she pays attention to, not to mention Stolas’s crumbling financial situation… She shook her head, grimacing as she brought her attention back to the cows in front of her. Nothing I can do about it right now while I’m being hunted. But once I’m fully healed and my demonic powers return… Her crimson glare flashed in relish, a cruel smile twisting her beak. A nearby cow gave her an uneasy glance before trotting towards Roy in fear.

“Do you want to try?” Roy called out. When Stella turned back to him he held one of the odd cleaning tools in hand. A brush with metallic bristles. “The cows won’t mind. Much. Just watch out fer the horns and the headbutts, you should be fine.”

Stella scoffed. “I debased myself enough to pick up chicken eggs. I won’t stoop so low as to clean livestock, imp.”

Roy’s eyes twitched in annoyance. “Ah, I forgot. Bluebloods like you are only good fer shoutin’ orders and blamin’ others for yer failures. My apologies.”

Stella sneered. “I’m standing right here you know.”

Roy laughed derisively. “And? Goin’ to prove me wrong? Go ahead, clean the livestock! ” He tossed the tool down in front of him.

Stella pushed herself away from the wooden fence and briskly walked towards the tool lying in the dirt. She picked up the tool, the metal bristles glistening in the wrathian sun. She turned back towards the imp with a derisive snort before turning towards the cow in front of her. The cow eyed her warily. The Goetia wasn’t known for her patience or temperament, and the animals have learned that firsthand. The cow took a hesitant step back, but Stella’s stride overpowered its retreat. She looked at the tool then turned back to Roy.

“So… How do I use this thing?” she asked.

Roy snorted. “Brush gently between the plates. Dirt an’ other junk tends to get caught in there. Not to mention potential parasites. Bit of a bitch to get out, but the cows love it.”

Stella nodded and began patting the cow’s head, trying to reassure it as she moved to its side. The cow shook away the hand, but otherwise remained still for her to begin pushing the tool against the plates on its side. It took a moment for the tool to press itself between the plates, and Stella shuddered when she felt something get dislodged when she wiggled the tool inside the crevice.

“Well you’re doin’ better than you did with the chickens. Now slowly rub the tool back an’ forth while you move down the plate, like you’re usin’ a hand saw.” Roy continued in his instruction.

Stella nodded with a grimace and a shudder, feeling gunk dislodge with each push and pull of the tool.  It wasn’t long before she cleaned to the bottom of the plate and pulled the tool free. It came out with a wet pop and shavings of detritus dropped down the side of the cow. A rancid smell wafted out and she pulled herself back, doing her best not to gag and failing miserably.

Roy’s smile widened, dragging a stepping stool beside her. “Shit, Stella. I didn’t think you’d actually do it.” He had grabbed a cloth and a bucket of water, along with a few prods and tools she couldn’t quite name. “Go and get the rest of the plates. I’ll start cleanin’ up what you finish.”

Stella looked down at the imp as he got on a stepping stool to start cleaning the plate she’d just finished working on. Her attention turned back to the cow, who looked at her expectantly. Stella actually whimpered , hesitantly bringing the brush to another section between the cows plates.

Roy looked at her with utter amusement. “Cmon, scared?”

Stella shook her head, too repulsed by the cow to respond with her usual fury. “No. Just disgusted.”

Someone whistled behind them, and they both turned to see who it was. Sallie May was watching the two of them from the other side of a wooden fence. “I’m with Stella on this one Roy, I think yer the only one on the farm that actually likes cleanin’ the animals.”

Roy put a hand against his chest with a fake indignant gasp. “I’m sorry sis! It’s not my fault the rest of ya are shit at doin’ it!”

Sallie May smirked. “Great! That means you can do it alone then. Want to do somethin’ new, princess?” Stella grinned, tossing the brush to Roy who caught it with a glare and a shouted protest.

“I would love to.” Stella replied, sharing a grin with the imp as she walked towards a nearby gate. Sallie May opened it for her, and the Goetia said her thanks as she stepped away.

They walked away to the sound Roy’s grumbles, the young imp whistling to the cows to bring them closer to him. He’d have to keep his eyes on the herd while he cleaned them now. Stella placed her hand on Sallie May’s shoulder.

“Thank you, imp, I admit I would have…” Stella shuddered. “Would have actually begged not to continue. I’ve stomached doing such menial tasks as laundry and cleaning dishes. But cleaning animals ,” the Goetia shuddered again, her feathers ruffling in a wave from her head to her legs.

Sallie May watched in rapt fascination. White feathers pushed against the scant clothes the Goetia wore, not to mention a few of the quills falling away in a trail on the dirt as they walked by. She couldn’t help but stoop down and pick one up and examine it.

Stella sucked in a breath as she saw the imp examining the feather. “What are you doing!?” she demanded.

Sallie May looked up at the Goetia, twirling the feather. “What? Just curious about your feathers. ”

Stella gingerly plucked the feather from the imps grasp and tossed it to the side. “It’s unseemly behavior in the upper courts, picking up another’s feathers like that!” Stella’s feathers ruffled down her body in another indignant wave, more feathers flying down. Sallie May grinned and began grabbing them as they flew down. Stella let out an embarrassed squawk and grabbed the feathers, tucking them into her pants pocket with a huff. “It’s bad enough that I’m molting. I don’t need you ogling my pure white plumage like some commoner.”

Sallie May let out a laugh. “Stella, I am a commoner.” Stella opened her mouth as if to argue, then snapped it shut. Sallie May pressed forward, a teasing grin on her face. “Aw… Do you think I’m somethin’ more than a commoner now? That sounds pretty scandalous, princess.” Stella turned away, a slight blush on her beak.

“Why did you pull me away from watching over the herd? It must be something important.” Stella languished, quickly changing the subject.

Sallie May shrugged. “Oh, you’ll see. I need to grab a few things from the house. Wait right here, I”ll be back in a bit.”

~~~ ~~~

Sallie May had left the house with a small hard case in hand, along with a tin box that jingled with every step. She had motioned for Stella to follow her, grinning and pulling her to the side of the barn. They both saw Roy toiling away at the cows, staring daggers at the duo until they were out of sight. When they reached the back of the barn there was a fence that led to nothing but open plains. A table sat in front of the fence, and Sallie May placed both the tin box and the small hard case on it. Stella frowned when she saw a handful of scarecrows placed at varying distances away from the fence, the sacks full of holes and looking utterly ragged. Alongside those sacks were empty bottles and steel plates propped up or held up by chains.

“Sallie May?”

The imp was busy opening the case, pushing a few latches that flipped open with a click. “Yeah?”

“What did you bring me here for?”

Sallie May grinned, turning and gesturing at the open case. “Why, I’m teachin’ you how to use this of course!”

Stella looked at the case to see a revolver sitting in the case on some foam. The frame, barrel, and cylinder was dark iron. Silver engravings covered every inch of the weapon in subtle detail. Patterned in sinuous billowing winds, wings, and angular feathers, it matched a silver hammer and muted wooden grips. Sallie May tenderly pulled it out of the box.

“Roy gambled this off a weapons dealer on their way down to the lower rings a few years back. The piece was far too nice fer any of us though.” She glanced up at Stella with a cocked eyebrow. “Maybe it was just waitin’ fer you to come around.”

Stella scoffed. “I’ll admit the weapon is pleasant to the eye, but come on. I’m a Goetia. My powers are weapon enough.”

Sallie May shrugged. “Yeah, but only if you can actually use them. You still can’t harness those dark powers without somethin’ goin’ wrong. At least not yet.” She picked up the revolver and opened the tin box, a wealth of bullets inside. She grabbed six and pressed a button on the revolver’s side. The cylinder popped open a moment later, and she quickly loaded the revolver as she stared at the nearest scarecrow. “Have you ever shot a gun before, princess?”

Stella shook her head. “No. Why?”

Sallie May smirked. “May want to cover yer ears then.”

Stella cupped her ears with her hands as a high pitched crack rang in the air. Each gunshot came loud and brief, like a thunderclap right beside her. Stella took a reflexive step back as the imp emptied the cylinder into the nearest scarecrow. She winced each time the weapon fired, practically waiting for the next thunderclap until she realized the imp had finished. Sallie May was grinning from ear to ear when she pushed out the revolver cylinder and pressed on the ejection rod. The ejection star gleamed darkly as smoking brass fell out of the cylinder.

“See, nothin’ to it!”

Stella pulled her hands away from her ears, clearly unimpressed. “Don’t you think this is overkill, Sallie May? Your entire family is here for my protection. And I have enough control of my demonic powers to use it for a few minutes before losing control.”

Sallie May’s face darkened for a moment, shaking her head. “You can’t rely on me and my family forever. And with the gang gettin’ restless in town…” The imps' normally cocky mask slipped for a moment.

Stella frowned. “You’re worried about your family, I understand. What does that have to do with me using such a brutish instrument?”

Sallie May turned. “It’s not just my family that I’m worried about dammit!”

Stella raised an eyebrow. “You’re worried about me ?” she scoffed. “I’m a Goetia, and rather pure blooded at that. You have nothing to worry about.”

Sallie May squinted up at the noblewoman, then pinched the bridge of her nose and turned away. “Fine. Suit yerself. But those powers failed you before.” She stormed off in a huff, fists balled as she muttered curses under her breath.

Stella watched as the imp tried to turn to and leave. An imp that… Cared. Stella put a hand on her hip, talons drumming against the short pair of jeans she wore. She chewed her inner lip as she watched the imp turn to go. What happened in town yesterday? She’s shaken up. It’s none of my business, and as my caretaker she should be worried about my wellbeing… But as the imp stormed off Stella only frowned more. So… Why do I feel like I did something wrong? Stella shook her head, cursing under her breath as she grabbed the revolver in hand. It was heavier than she expected, but not nearly heavy enough to be a problem.

“Sallie May.” Stella called out.

The imp turned, her sneer quickly disappearing when she saw the Goetia clumsily handling the pistol. She quickly dove out of the way as the Goetia pointed the gun towards her, dashing to the Goetia’s side and placing a hand on the gun to point it away from them or the farm. Stella looked at her skeptically, the imp letting out a nervous laugh.

“First rule of gun safety, princess. Don’t point that at shit you don’t want to kill or break.”

Stella rolled her eyes. “That goes without saying…” she stared at the weapon though, hefting it in hand and clumsily extending her arms.

“Well it’s not loaded… I think.” She quickly lowered Stella’s grip and opened the cylinder, sighing in relief as she saw the empty chambers. “Cmon, I’ll show you how to use that thing.” Sallie May said.

Instruction was quick, and the many questions Stella had were quickly addressed by the imp. Proper handling of the weapon, weapon safety, along with a few shooting tips had Stella feeling a bit more confident about using a gun for the first time. At the imps instruction she quickly loaded the revolver, the cylinder clicking into place. Stella stared at the target in front of her, watching as it swayed against the wind.

“Here we go…” Stella murmured, a nervous tremor in her voice.

“Yep. Don’t worry, I’m right here,” Sallie May said reassuringly.

Stella gave the imp a nervous smile, extending her arms and aiming the revolver at the nearest target. The weapon was unwieldy in her grip. Her noble sensibilities screamed at her to put such a crude instrument down, but she pushed those thoughts away. She began pulling against the trigger, grimacing at the amount of resistance she felt. She barely registered the hammer pulling itself back as she pulled against the trigger. The Goetia began to tremble, almost turning away from the gun as she was about to fire.

“Anything I should watch out for?” Stella asked, her apprehension tearing down her pride.

Sallie May smirked. “Other than the target?” Stella rolled her eyes. The imp pat the Goetia’s side reassuringly, unable to pat her shoulder. “You just gotta relax princess. And keep a firm grip on the gun. Nothin’ more to it.”

Stella gulped, focusing again on the target in front of her. Come on, it’s just a gun. Your security staff have them in abundance. If an imp and hellhound can use it, you can too. Her thoughts egged her on, noble sensibilities pushing away her apprehension. She sneered at her own nervousness, the irritation pushing her to fire the weapon.

All of a sudden all tension on her finger released as she fired the revolver. The hammer snapped down and the whole weapon rocked against her hand. The barrel flashed ahead of her, the grip slamming into her grip and the muzzle flipping up into the sky. She let out a squawk of alarm, almost dropping the weapon as a plume of smoke burst from the barrel.

“ Fuck!!! ” She shouted, hands trembling as she gripped the weapon. Sallie May was laughing, clutching her sides as she leaned against the fence for support. Stella's eyes flashed with indignation. “What the fuck is so funny imp?” She demanded, masking embarrassment with rage.

Sallie May bit back her laughter. “Y-You fluffed up like a cloud when the gun went off!” Stella realized that all her feathers stood on end, her usually immaculate look destroyed by erect feathers and fluffy down. More teddy bird than noblewoman, she let out a groan as the imp broke out in another fit of laughter. “A-Alright. Go on, shoot again. Yer not goin’ to get better with just one shot. And try it this way.” Sallie May hopped up on the table, pulling the hammer back. “You won’t have as much trouble with the trigger, but watch out. It’ll take a lot less force to fire.”

Stella stood up straight, forcing her feathers down until they lay flush on her arms again. She tried to seem dignified and elegant once more, bracing her stance as she aimed the revolver and fired again. When she did all the decorum and refinement of a Goetia disappeared. She flinched and squawked with every shot, her feathers standing on end every time the revolver kicked in her hand. Every shot fired brought her back to the day she almost died. Of a laughing imp that held a gun almost identical to this. Her side seemed to throb every time the gun kicked, and her aim only grew more unsteady the longer she held the weapon. Stella was trembling when the gun went click . She pulled the trigger again, cylinder rotating and hammer dropping onto yet another click .

The imp put her hand on the Goetia’s. “Yer out.” Sallie May said, looking up at the Goetia. She had started to frown, watching the Goetia as she fired the weapon.

“Good riddance.” Stella growled, putting the gun on the table with a heavy sigh. Her hands were trembling, tailfeathers standing on end behind her. Her eyes were dilated, the noblewoman taking heavy breaths as adrenaline coursed through her body. “I didn’t even hit that bloody target did I?” she asked.

“Not once.” Sallie May said. The Goetia seemed to deflate, leaning against the table with a sigh.

“What’re you afraid of? When usin’ the weapon I mean.”

Stella looked down at the lethal tool with a grimace. “I’m not afraid of it,” she countered defiantly. Sallie May looked up at her skeptically. Stella returned her gaze with a haughty, if affronted gaze. “Really! I’m not afraid of the bloody thing!” Stella said emphatically. Sallie May simply crossed her arms. Stella growled, throwing her arms up. “Fine! The damn gun kicks in my hand like it has a personal vendetta against me! Not to mention I was shot by one of these things. Please excuse me if I’m a bit uneasy about using such a barbaric tool.” She spat out, looking at the pistol with contempt.

She seemed almost ready to throw the gun at the target. But the way her pupils dilated, the way she tightly gripped the table…

“Alright. Let’s try somethin’ else.” Sallie May pulled a stool out from under the table, setting it in front of the Goetia. Grabbing a few bullets from the tin can, she quickly reloaded the revolver as she got on the stool. Sallie May leaned comfortably against the Goetia’s front, the imps horns on either side of her beak.

Stella looked down at the imp, heart racing at the close contact. “What are you doing?”

Sallie May chuckled. “What, don’t trust me?” Even though she spoke evenly, her cheeks had adopted a dark blush.

Stella rolled her eyes. “Of course I do, I just want to know what you’re doing.”

Sallie May placed the loaded revolver in the Goetia’s hands, then pointed towards the target. “I can’t help you with yer fear, other than be here for you. But I can help you with the recoil,” she pantomimed aiming a pistol, motioning for the Goetia to do the same. Stella did, stretching her arms out with the gun held in both hands. The imp’s hands joined her, rough palms that pressed against soft down and sharp talons. “See? Just like that. Now focus on the steel plate, it’s a bigger target. I’ll deal with the recoil.”

Stella sighed, her feet shifting as she aimed once again. Her hands still trembled though, the weapons' sights jumping erratically. Sallie May simply gave her hands a reassuring squeeze. Stella felt her apprehension slowly bleed away. Once again she aimed the weapon and pulled the trigger. The weapon kicked in the duo's hands, a small cloud of dirt kicked up as the bulled whizzed past its intended target. Stella let out a small curse.

“Missed again,” she murmured.

Sallie May smirked. “Remember the guy who shot you?” Stella nodded. “Pretend he’s the one on the range.”

Stella fired again, and the steel disc rang with the impact. It wobbled for a moment before falling on the ground with a hollow thud. Stella blinked, looking over the barrel of the revolver to see the plume of dust kicked up by the fallen plate.

“I hit it…?” Sallie May nodded, her horns lightly pushing against Stella’s shoulders as she did so. “I hit it!” Stella said with a laugh.

A new feeling replaced the Goetia’s nervousness. Some odd excitement amplified by the adrenaline in her veins. She took aim at another steel plate, pulling Sallie May around as she fired again. The steel plate fell with a high pitched ring and the Goetia let out an uncharacteristic squeal of delight. She fired once more, and an empty bottle exploded in a shower of broken glassl. Sallie May slowly pulled her hands away as the Goetia switched targets. When Sallie May got off the stool and pulled it away from the Goetia, the noblewoman was already reloading the weapon without instruction.

Stella’s eyes lit with a renewed flame, her beak turning upward with barely repressed glee as she emptied a cylinder into the nearest scarecrow. It shuddered at the impacts, a few of the bullets missing, but most of the shots landing in a tight cluster at its heart. When Stella finally put the revolver on the table there was a look of manic glee on her face. A few of her feathers stood on end, giving her an unruly, rugged look. Sallie May quickly rubbed away the blush forming on her face.

Sallie May couldn’t help but smile as she saw the Goetia’s unrestrained delight.“Havin’ fun?”
Stella composed herself by combing her hair with some of her talons. “You know, imagining the bastard's face really helped,” she laughed. “Who knew this would be so… So exhilarating!” She let out an exultant laugh and a sparkle in her eye. “Is shooting guns always like this?”

Sallie May wobbled her hand in a sometimes gesture. “If yer not gettin’ shot at? Sure. Fun as hell. But under fire…” She sucked in a breath with a shrug. “Kinda takes the fun out of it,” she admitted.

Stella turned to Sallie May with a raised eyebrow. “Expecting to get shot at in the near future, imp? That would be unfortunate.” 

Sallie May leaned against the fence with a bemused expression. “And why is that princess?”

“I’ve come to enjoy your company. It would be a shame to lose you so soon.” Stella said.

Sallie May seemed to freeze for half a second, processing what was said before her blush returned with a vengeance. “Well shit… Didn’t expect that.”

Stella clasped her hands primly behind her back with a shit eating grin on her face. “I didn’t know you got flustered, Sallie May. Does my amusement bring you joy?”

Sallie May took the teasing in stride as she moved to pick up stray brass around the range. “First time I’ve seen you smile like that princess. I think you should smile like that more.”

It was Stella’s turn to falter, and she did so with much less grace. A pronounced blush turned her white feathers pink, hiding behind a hand and sputtering out a rebuttal that was drowned by Sallie May’s laughter.

“Come on. Now that I know you can hit a target, I’ll leave this in yer room. I’ll show you how to properly clean it and whatnot tonight.” Sallie May said as she began to clean up the range.

Stella slowly regained her composure with an abashed sigh. “And if I want to perhaps… Come back out here? When there’s no work of course.”

Sallie May smiled. “I’ll show you where the ammo is, too.”

Sallie May moved to grab the revolver, but the Goetia was quicker. Picking up the smoking weapon like it was a new toy. She gave the imp a sheepish smile as they stepped away from the back of the barn, walking back to the house.

~~~ ~~~

The radio blared beside her, some twisted romance between two demons that could never be. Stella only half listened, her focus on the boys seated at the dining room table.

Tom had dealt a handful of cards to the three other boys, the rest of them staring at the assorted cards intently. They’d been gambling the night away to pass the time. An odd passtime, but I’ve seen my servants do similar when they were slacking off… Stella thought ruefully. Still, she leaned in her chair, drink in hand as she watched them play.

Tom was shuffling and reshuffling his cards with an anxious twitch. Roy leaned against his chair with a cocky grin, his cards face down on the table. Arthur was staring intently at his hand, while Martin held his cards in his lap, his feet dangling off a high chair. From what Stella could tell they were betting small household chores, the one winning getting the most free time. And it seemed to her that Arthur was losing. Much to his frustration.

Tom reshuffled the cards with an expert flourish, turning towards Arthur with a frown. “So I heard some of the folk in town talkin’ bout another hunt comin’ up.”

Arthur didn’t even look up at his brother, his attention fixed on his cards. “Not goin’ to happen. Yer still too young.” Tom was about to protest but Arthur quickly shot him a stern look. “The beasts are big fer a reason, Tom. Only the strong survive. And the beasts this year look stronger than most,” he grimaced. “Stronger hides, more aggressive, they’re just as likely to charge the huntin’ party as they are to scatter. I don’t want you anywhere near that.”

Roy nodded, pushing a handful of tokens in front of him. Small tokens representing minor chores. “I’m with big bro for once, Tom. The pigs on the farm are small game compared to what’s roamin’ outside. If you got a hankerin’ for target practice go behind the barn,” he turned to Arthur with a smirk. “How you doin’ big bro?” Tom gave his cocky brother a card.

Arthur growled, throwing a handful of tokens down as well. So did Martin. Tom gave both of them cards. All brothers became silent, staring at one another. Arthur, Martin, and Tom placed their cards on the table at once. Looking at the assorted hands, Martin began giggling like a madman. Roy let out a laugh as Arthur let out a groan.

“We taught him to play a month ago! How is he this good !?” Arthur groaned.

Roy looked at him with a smirk. “Beginner’s luck. On the bright side we’re not bettin’ souls, or you’d be in debt by now.”
Arthur let out a tortured groan as he leaned back against his chair. “You boys’ll be the death of me,” he turned to Stella then. “Do you play, missy?”

Stella smirked and shook her head. “No. I gamble with businesses and decisions. The Goetian court holds more intrigue and subterfuge than a simple card game. Not to mention the souls gained and lost would boggle your minds,” she returned her attention to the radio, tinkering with the volume a bit.

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Just a damn question, miss.”

Roy held a dangerous glint in his eye. “Then why don’t you try it out? I’m sure yer courtly intrigue is much harder than this simple game,” he taunted with a grin.

Stella glanced at the imp, then at the radio. “Fine. As they say in Greed, deal me in?”

Tom turned to Roy worriedly. The cocky imp remained unfazed. It was Arthur, however, that came to Stella’s defense.

“Don’t do it miss. He doesn’t look like much but my brother here’s been banned from gamblin’ in town,” Roy’s grin only widened at his brothers remark. “Sleight of hand, countin’ cards. Great with animals and a good shot, sure, but I wouldn’t trust him when cards and money’s involved.”

Stella brushed off Arthur’s concern with a scoff. “Nonsense. It’s just a simple card game. How hard can it be?”

Arthur whistled, and shared a smile with Roy. “Suit yerself miss. Deal her in, Tom?”

Tom held a smirk as well, the boys trading glances as if they knew a joke that Stella didn’t. Still, rules were set and cards were quickly dealt. Tokens from the previous game were redistributed among all four players, with Tom once again dealing the cards. Bets were made and chips were stacked. Stella grinned when her first few hands won her a handful of chips. Any victory was victory enough. But as the game went on she found herself on the backfoot. Raising against Roy’s winning hand or folding when she had a clear advantage. When the radio finally changed programs Stella was staring at her cards just as intently as Arthur was. Across from them both Roy was fanning himself with his cards while Martin held his cards in hand with a content smile.

Arthur turned to Stella with an amused glance. “So princess, still think this card game’s easier than yer court intrigue?” he motioned towards her meager stack of chips, compared to the mountain held by Roy and Martin.

“You’re not doing as well yourself.” Stella pointed out distractedly, lazily pointing at Arthur’s own barely existent stack of tokens.

The stairs to the second floor creaked and they all turned their heads to see Sallie May jogging down in a shirt a few sizes too big. She gave them a distracted, tired wave as she beelined straight for the refrigerator. Stella’s gaze lingered a fraction more than it should before she returned her attention to her cards.

Sallie May gave Stella the briefest of glances. “Hey Stella.” She opened the refrigerator and rummaged inside.

“Hey,” the noblewoman responded, returning her attention to her cards.

Sallie May yawned as she pulled out a water bottle and made her way back to the stairs. Just as she was about to step out of the dining room she stopped and turned. It took a moment before Stella and the boys to realize she was staring.

“What?” they all asked.

“Yall got Stella to play?”

Stella grimaced. “Save me,” she gestured towards her meager tokens.

Sallie May laughed. “Not a chance,” she sat down in a spare chair, taking the top off of the water bottle and taking a sip.

Stella grumbled her dissent as Tom turned to her, asking what she wanted to do. She called, staying in the game. Arthur decided to fold after a look at his cards. When everyone's hands were revealed Stella let out a devilish cackle as she scored her first win in the last few rounds. With a bit better footing. Roy’s eyes narrowed and Martin raised an eyebrow at the hand. The next few hands were dealt with similar results. Tokens changed between Stella, Roy, and Martin, with poor Arthur languishing in the background. It wasn’t long before Arthur set down his cards.

“Alright, I got work in the mornin’,” he said as he got up with a dejected expression.

Roy turned to his brother. “We all got work in the mornin’.”

Arthur turned to his brother with a smirk. “You know what I have that you don’t though?”

Roy crossed his arms, cards still in hand, with a bemused expression. “What would that be, bro?”

Arthur walked towards the door to the basement with a smirk. “Access to the drinks without needin’ to ask ma and pa fer permission, or tryin’ to sneak one out.” he laughed as Roy’s expression quickly soured. He turned towards Sallie May as he opened the door. “You want anythin’ sis?”

Sallie May shook her head, tapping her water bottle for emphasis. “Goin’ to want to have my wits about me fer tomorrow.”

Arthur frowned, looking back at the door to the basement. “The hunt’s tomorrow?” Sallie May nodded. “Shit. They’re movin’ early,” after staring at the basement forlornly he closed it with a groan.

Roy leaned back with a grin. “So what were you sayin’ about access to alcohol? I didn’t quite hear you.”

“Shut up Roy.” Arthur growled as he left the dining room and made his way up the stairs.

Salle May whistled to get her brothers attention. He turned with a tired expression, already suppressing a yawn. “Pa said you can grab his lever action fer the hunt.” Arthur looked at the weapon on the mantle with a renewed interest before giving his sister a nod and heading up the stairs.

Stella watched him leave before turning to Sallie May. “What exactly is the hunt for?”

Sallie May took another swig from her water bottle. “Regulatin’ local beast populations. The prey is just as dangerous as the predators, and they breed like those rabbits in Lust.”

Stella frowned. “It won’t be too dangerous will it?”

Sallie May laughed. “Not at all,” she pointed towards an annoyed Roy and a bored Martin, along with an uneasy Tom pulling Arthurs cards back into the deck. “Cmon, you’ve got more important things to worry about other than little ol’ me.”

Stella remembered fragments of when the imp had rescued her. Delirium and a cruel sun. Her failing powers and the snarls of beasts surrounding her as day shifted into night… She looked back at Sallie May, unease settling in her gut. Despite her apprehension, the Goetia turned back to her cards. She played a handful more rounds with Roy and Martin, Sallie May raising an eyebrow or letting out a whistle at her triumphs and failures. It was deep into the night when Stella finally accepted defeat and conceded. Down to a handful of tokens, she finally put her cards down and left. When she finally went to bed she could only stare out at the window overlooking the farm. Her eyes locked on the boundary of the property, nothing but fencing keeping away the wilderness. Anxiety followed her into her dreams. She awoke the next morning to find the unease had only worsened. In the diaphanous morning she swore she saw shifting shapes outside the property. Glowing eyes and the glimmer of tooth and claw pierced the gloom. She grimaced as she tried to go back to sleep.

She failed.

Chapter Text

Stella leaned against the railing of the front porch with a wide brimmed hat cast over her eyes. A small shirt and revealing shorts did their best to combat the suns punishing heat. But the puffiness of her feathers and down made its efficacy suspect in the early morning humidity. Grunting at the front of the house caught her attention. Arthur was busy loading the truck with weapons, equipment, and ammunition. The clatter of brass and metal joined with the shift of canvas as he secured most of the equipment for something called a  “Beast Hunt.” It was to ensure the feral denizens of Wrath didn’t destroy the town proper and keep killing the livestock. It was somber business, spending a whole day or two out hunting. But it was also lucrative.

Wrathian leathers were a staple in Pride’s for the middle class, Stella knew that much. A stout material for clothes and accessories both. Stella had dabbled in the business herself a few times, but could never get the hang of it.

“You doin’ alright, princess?” A melodious rumble rose from beside her.

Stella turned to see Sallie May with a hunting jacket and bandolier strung across her rugged frame. Those golden eyes of hers locked on the Goetia with concern. There was an unfamiliar twinge in her heart whenever they locked eyes lately…

Stella shook her head. “I’m doing fine, imp.” She responded dismissively, gesturing towards the truck that was now filled to the brim with equipment and weaponry. “Is all of that required for something as simple as a beast hunt?”

Sallie May gave the truck a quick glance. “Nah. We’d pack more if it was just us. But the whole town’s gettin’ in on the hunt so we can pack light.” She turned towards Arthur, calling out to him as she adjusted her bandolier. “Hey Arthur, grabbin’ pa’s gun for the hunt today?”
Arther slammed one of the passenger doors shut to respond to his sister. “Nah, I’m bringin’ my own iron.” He hefted up his rifle in response. He looked almost identical to Sallie May, hunting jacket and bandolier strung from shoulder to hip. “Besides, he’ll need ol’ reliable if anything happens on the farm while we’re gone.”

Sallie May scoffed. “As if shit’ll go down while we’re out there today. The whole reason we’re doin’ this is so the farm doesn’t get hit.”

Arthur gave Sallie May a disapproving frown that was countered with a cocky grin. He sighed and shook his head, turning towards Stella with a look of concern. “Look miss, beast hunts tend to get rowdy. Sometimes herds can get uppity and attack isolated farms. Like ours .” His gaze bore into his sister as he spoke. “Just… Keep yer eyes open. Roy knows what to do, not to mention ma and pa. Hunker down, make sure the livestock’s locked up safe, and defend the farm as best ya can.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he turned towards the swathe of wilderness to the North. “It should be fine, but I don’t think you need any reminders on how dangerous the local wildlife can be…”

Stella’s beak clacked shut into a grimace. She hid herself in the shade of the front porch, arms crossed under her modest bust. Fingers traced against scars now hidden by alabaster feathers and skin hardened by work on the farm. It wasn’t hard to remember her delirium on the eve that brought her to the ranch. Bleeding, parched, and on the brink of madness as she fought off beasts that would have torn her apart. Torn her apart if not for a certain imp… She stole a glance at Sallie May, seeing the imp exchanging lighthearted banter with her brother. Stella shook her head with a sneer when she felt her heart start to race. What in Lucifer’s court is wrong with me!? Bloody hell, I need a drink…

Joe stepped out of the house with a savage axe over his shoulder and a bolt action rifle in hand. “You forgot this, Sallie.” Joe said curtly, pushing the rifle into his daughter’s grip. Sallie May opened the bolt a fraction, seeing it unloaded. He hopped off the porch to the back of the truck, chucking the axe into the back where it let out an audible clatter of metal. “Don’t forget yer melee weapons, Arthur. Guns don’t do you good if you run out of ammo.”

Arthur grimaced. “They don’t work if I’m grapplin’ with a boar twice my size either. I know, pa.” He turned his hip to show a machete hanging by his belt.

Joe gave his son an approving nod before turning back to Sallie May. “Ready to head out?”

Sallie May had slung the rifle over her shoulder, patting the hunting jacket and bandolier to double check if she had everything. “I think so. Hold on.” She responded. She began calling out the names of various pieces of equipment, Arthur either nodding or telling her that it had been packed already. When she finished she gave her father a cocky grin and nodded. “Yep! We’re ready.”

Joe took his time walking back onto the front porch. The worn boards creaked in protest as he settled his weight on it. “Good.” He turned to Stella with a raised eyebrow. “You got water?”

Stella blinked. “Pardon?” Caught off guard by the question, she quickly unfurled her arms and looked at the bare porch railing in front of her. “No.”

Joe let out a stiff harrumph as he jerked a thumb over his shoulder, pointing to the kitchen. “Better grab somethin’ from the refrigerator then. Today’s goin’ to be a scorcher.” The tone in his voice made Stella narrow her eyes.

The desire to reprimand Joe for ordering her around like some farmhand was eclipsed by the blatant warning that she would fucking cook under Wrath’s heat, so she did as bidden. She was greeted to the refreshing feeling of air conditioning and fans in the house as she entered the foyer. From the sound of annoyed chickens in the back, it sounded like Roy or Martin was busy collecting eggs. Entering the kitchen, she saw Lin elbow deep in a sink full of dirty dishes and soapy water.

The imp turned her head to see who had entered the kitchen. “Oh hey Stella, what’re you lookin’ for?” she asked, a homely smile spreading on her face.

Stella walked to the refrigerator and pulled out a chilly plastic water bottle. “Just grabbing some water before working outside. At Joe’s recommendation.” She noted. “Sallie May and Arthur are getting ready to leave for that hunt of theirs.”

Lin rolled her eyes. “Town hunt, more like. I heard even Henry’s goin’ to be there too, even though he’s louder than sin.” She turned off the faucet with a quick twist of the wrist and grabbed a nearby towel to dry her hands with. A quick look out the open window saw the truck roaring to life with Arthur and Sallie May already inside. “Let’s say farewell before they go.”

Stella ducked her head as she moved through the house with Lin in tow, opening the door for the middle aged imp without a second thought. Lin blinked in surprise at the kind gesture. The Goetia didn’t notice the imps’ surprise, taking her spot beside Joe as they both leaned on the railing of the front porch. The plastic water bottle dangled in her fingers as she gripped its cold neck, eyes locked on the truck as its engine rumbled idly.

“Sallie May!” Lin shouted to grab the imps attention. “Bring some deer back home! Mama’s got a hankerin’ fer venison!”

Sallie May responded with a thumbs up. By the looks of it, it seemed like Arthur was busy with something in front. Sallie May was also relaxing with her phone in hand. Stella pursed her lips, shifting uneasily on her talons. The night they first met was still fresh in her mind. Blurred vision, bleeding out, numb with pain, with the growling and snarling of vermin around her. Stella blinked when a memory bloomed fresh in her mind…

Tears began to stain her face, tears that were never given the chance to be shed. “Someone… Anyone… Please… Help me,” she whispered. Just this once, she would let her guard down. Just this once she would pull away the mask of rage.

Unease welled up in her heart as she saw the imp begin to leave. She pressed her hands on the railing of the front porch, hands gripping the painted wood. Stella stared at her scars, now long healed. A stray thought flashed in her mind, one that had the blood draining from her face. To see such scars on Sallie May as well… She shook her head with a grimace.

“Sallie May!” Stella called out impulsively. The imp looked out the truck window and locked eyes with the Goetia. She wanted to say something… Something to express her concern. Tell her to be careful, to come back in one piece. To say something! Anything! “Good luck with your hunt!” She blurted out.

Sallie May winked. “I’ll bring somethin’ back for you,” she teased.

Whatever else was said was drowned out by the radio as Arthur blasted out the hard rock songs well known in Wrath. That was quickly followed by a plume of dust as the truck’s wheels dug into the dry dirt, speeding down the path to the main road. As they left Stella couldn’t help but stare at the truck disappearing into the distance. Joe had stepped away from the railing, heading towards the barn to grab a few tools. Lin pat Stella’s back before heading into the house to finish her work. Stella leaned on the front porch a bit longer, watching as the truck finally drove out of sight of the farm.

Stella let out a shaky, nervous breath. “Stay safe, Sallie May…” she whispered. She grimaced at the knot of conflicting feelings in her core, and pushed it as far back in her mind as she could. “I’m wasting time here, I have things to do,” she said aloud, more to herself than anyone else. She said it to reassure herself. It only made her feel worse.

~~~ ~~~

The wide brimmed hat kept the sun out of her eyes but did little against the heat. Sweat mixed with the damp air, making her clothes cling to her body and leaving her feathery down slightly puffed up. She was utterly miserable as she pulled stray weeds out of one of the vegetable patches alongside Joe and Tom. The two other imps toiled beside her, hats keeping their heads shaded and clothes clinging to sweaty figures. Joe took a light sip from a water bottle lying in the dirt before pulling out more weeds. Tom mirrored the actions of his father soon after. A low braying in the distance made Stella look up; Roy was busy with the cows and boars again. Something had made them restless, however. Those armored bovines kept close to each other, casting gazes towards the mountains to the north. No amount of shushing from Roy seemed to get them to calm down. Odd, seeing as how he was usually the best at getting those animals to settle down…

“Your livestock look nervous, Joe.” Stella noted, sitting on her haunches and watching the cows and boars move restlessly across the ranch grounds. 

Joe looked up with narrowed eyes. “That’s not good.” He murmured.

Stella paused, looking at the aged imp. “What’s not good?”

Joe’s lips creased into a thin line. He straightened up, patting his hands on his sides to wipe away stray traces of dirt. “Might be nothin’,” he said. He didn’t seem too convinced, however. He pulled out his phone and quickly called Lin. “Hey darlin’, you don’t mind lookin’ out the second floor to the north do you?” There was a noncommittal response that Stella couldn’t quite hear. “Somethin’ spooked the pigs and cows is all. Just want to make sure there’s nothin’ to worry about.”

He nodded and said his goodbyes, pocketing his phone before turning his head back towards the house. A few minutes passed before Lin poked her head out of one of the second floor windows and gazed into the plains beyond. A bored face quickly twisted with consternation. The uneasiness in Stella’s gut began to worsen when she saw the imps' golden glare flash in alarm. Lin wasted no time as she began to shout at Roy and Martin. The two boys looked up at her in silent, alarmed nods. They quickly sprinted into the house before coming back out with weapons in hand.

Stella bit her lower beak to keep in a curse. She turned to see Joe with much the same uneasy expression. “Even Martin is armed, what’s going on?”

Joe looked back at her. “Beasts out in the field most likely. They don’t jump the fence or piss off the livestock when alone...” Joe stood, squinting his eyes in the same direction his wife was staring. “But that all changes if there’s a group. Shit, I hoped the town would drive the beasts away from the farm, not push ‘em here. That or a stray pack slipped past ‘em.” He turned to Tom with a stern expression. “Grab yer hammer, boy. And one of the guns. We may have trouble on our hands.” Joe turned and stormed back to the house, rolling his shoulders as if preparing for a fight. “I’m not havin’ those fuckers rip out our crops and kill the livestock like last season.”

Stella stood up quickly. She looked to the edge of the property to see exactly what had spooked Joe and Lin so much. It was a canine, that much was certain. Standing on four legs with claws blacker than charcoal and snarling fangs that gleamed white. Leathery skin and boney plate shifted on a back that rose and fell with labored breaths. It returned her stare with crimson eyes and a hungry gaze, but refused to jump the fence. She locked eyes with the vermin, and its rabid stare made her shudder.

“It’s just one mongrel, should we really be worried?” Stella asked Joe. Her voice was level, an impenetrable mask of uncaring annoyance. It perfectly hid her apprehension. “Surely we could kill it or chase it away.”

Tom answered quickly, standing up to follow his father back to the house. “That’s a wild dog, a runt of the litter, seeing how small it is.” He hopped on his tiptoes to gain height and give the beast another look before turning back to the house with a jog. “It’ll run back, tell the rest of the pack. We’ll be fucked if they all jump the fence at the same time.”

Joe turned to Tom with a stern glare. “Language, Tom.” He had walked up to the front of the house now, with Lin already standing outside with the sharpened shovel from the mantle of the fireplace. Considering the dents and cracks in the stout iron head, it’d seen its fair share of fights. “Just a pack of wild dogs, Lin.” He gave the shovel an approving glance, the side of his mustache rising in a satisfied smirk. “Bringin’ out ol’ reliable?”

Lin nodded, arms crossed as she leaned against the side of the house. “You know it,” she said, her tail pushing the shovels stout handle too and fro. “Good fer diggin’ holes and putting things in em. Bodies or otherwise. It’s never failed me before.” She hitched a thumb to the inside of the house. “Yer shotty an’ bandoliers loaded. I grabbed yer bowie knife too.”

A deep rumble came from Joe’s chest as he gave his wife a quick peck on the cheek. “You know me so well darlin’. I’ll keep an eye on the crops this time, you headin’ out with Roy an’ Martin?”

Lin nodded. “The chickens are in the coop, and Roy’s already armed. Martin’s helpin’ him out from the barn.” She pointed towards the second floor window of the barn, where little Martin had binoculars and a radio in hand. Stella also glimpsed a knife of his own close at hand by the windowsill. “We’re not losin’ a profit to these beasts this year.”

“Damn right.” Joe turned towards Tom. “Grab what yer most comfortable with.” Tom dashed into the house, disappearing around a corner. Joe then turned to Stella. “If there’s any weapon yer familiar with grab it. Knife, club, one of those fancy blueblood swords they wear at parades.”

Stella raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never needed to use a weapon. My demonic form did just fine.” Joe raised his eyebrow, unconvinced, with a stare so condescending and disappointed that Stella felt an uncharacteristic pang of shame. “But… Sallie May showed me how to fire one of your revolvers yesterday. The one Roy gambled off the weapons dealer.” She responded indignantly. Joe’s unapproving glare only grew.

“Now nothin’ beats stubborn grit and yer own two hands. But when those powers of yers are unavailable, guns will get the job done.” He pointedly glanced at her now healed gunshot wound, opening the door and gesturing for the Goetia to follow. When Stella followed, she saw Joe already throwing a bandolier full of shotgun shells over his shoulder and clipping a bowie knife to his hip. The blade itself was so big it seemed to eclipse his bicep, which itself was no small feat. Joe grabbed a lever action shotgun from the couch and manipulated the lever, making sure it was loaded before slamming the lever back home. “Follow me,” he said as he brought her to the house’s armory.

Stella entered the room she only glanced at with Sallie May. She would have taken the time to appreciate the sheer volume of weaponry available if time wasn’t an issue. Tom was already storming out of the room with a stout hammer and a lever action rifle. Joe lumbered inside, grabbed a radio, and tossed it to Stella.

“Clip that to yer hip, it’s already on the right frequency, just do a quick mic check to see if that ones working. Press the button on the side.” Stella did as told, her voice coming out clear on the other radios in the room. Joe nodded in approval as he hooked a radio to his own hip. He then walked towards one of the cabinets holding a handful of knives and pulled out a long, narrow blade. “Use this too. Anythin’ gets close? Stick it between the plates into the skin beneath. Once it pierces through you twist and pull it out.”

The blade was long and triangular, thick at the tang and thin on the edge. Meant for one thing only, stabbing and not breaking. Stella grimaced at such a crude weapon, but hooked it to her belt regardless.

“This seems excessive.” She grumbled, then gasped in surprise as a familiar revolver, holster, and bandolier was thrust into her hands.

“Better have it and not need it than need it and not have it. Now come on, let’s see if we can get some more work done before those beasts do something stupid,” Joe said before heading out the door.

Any of the Goetia’s protests died in her throat as the door banged shut behind the stout imp. She was now left in the flickering light of a room that smelled of brass, iron, and gunpowder. She looked down at the revolver in her hands and frowned. The lessons from yesterday bloomed in her mind. The feeling of Sallie Mays hands against her own. The elation of hitting the target. The odd, almost taboo excitement of using such a brutish instrument… She quickly put on the holster and bandolier. The revolver and belt holding cartridges settled snugly against the swell of her hips. A quick look in the reflection of a gun cabinet showed an odd sight. She looked as rough as the imps around her now. A body much more toned than before, and attire far less refined. She laughed and shook her head. What would my family think, seeing me like this…? She sighed and stepped out of the door. She had more pressing matters to worry about than a family a whole ring away.

~~~ ~~~

It was a standoff, as far as such things could go between beast and demon. Joe and Tom continued to rip out weeds from the vegetable patch, a distraction to the guttural growls and panting of the feral dogs at the other end of the property. Their eyes were locked on the last of the livestock being corralled by Roy. There were more of them now, four legged creatures of scale, leathery hide, and boney plate. Horns and fangs made rictus grins out of leering maws and serpentine tongues. They were the stuff of nightmares, and the Wrathian imps didn’t even bat an eye. Stella turned to see Roy and Lin in front of the barn, leaning against it with weapons at the ready. Tom was crouched beside the Goetia and caressing his hammer with a worried frown.

“I take it this doesn’t happen often?” Stella inquired, arms crossed and leaning against a line of fence.

Tom shook his head. “Not often, but whenever the town goes out hunting the local packs get restless. Sometimes they’ll attack neighboring farms…” He stood up and stretched his back, eyes locked on the pack of beasts in front of them. Easily two dozen predatory figures in the distance, with more coming over. “I’ve never seen this many before…” There was a tremble to his voice. He worked the lever action, checking the chamber of his rifle nervously.

Stella felt her own apprehension grow. Her hand settled on the grip of her revolver, eyes narrowed on the beasts. One of them had begun to prowl by the fence, pressing its shoulder against the barrier to test it. Its grunts were loud enough to carry across the windswept plains like some portent of doom. Her feathers shuddered every time the fence swayed under the beasts probing shoulder. She didn’t realize she was pacing until Joe shot her a look.

“You’re ruinin’ my crops, Stella,” he growled disapprovingly.

Stella looked down to see crops trampled underfoot. She mumbled a halfhearted excuse, waving away Joe’s annoyance. She stayed rooted on the spot though, anxiously toying with her bandolier instead. Her eyes were too locked on the pack of wild animals to care much for being disrespectful to her hosts. She unconsciously pulled out the revolver gifted to her by Sallie May yesterday. Popping the cylinder open, she saw six brass casings with untouched primers, the glint of metal in the Wrathian light holding lethal promise. She gulped and palmed the cylinder back into place, holstering the pistol as she looked back up. The radio buzzed to life, heard by all.

“One of them’s gettin’ testy.” Lin’s soft voice carried a wary undercurrent.

As if on cue there was the groan of wood as one of the beasts put their weight against the barrier. Joe was up in a second, eyes staring daggers at the beast. His hand settled on the stout handle of his bowie knife.

“Fuckin’ try it.” He growled under his breath. His face was stony, chest pushed forward and shoulders squared. He was coiled like a spring, muscle tensed for the moment things became chaotic. “Come on… Just ruin the paint on my fence then move the fuck along. I’d rather not waste more money on ammo this month…” The imps mutterings turned into its own feral growl as he unholstered his shotgun.

Tom tapped Stella’s hip. He was hastily loading his lever action when she turned to look. He pointed to the chicken coop where a lone beast had slowly begun to prowl. It was the beast from earlier. Nothing more than a runt, half the size of its contemporaries. But from the madness in its eyes and the froth of its mouth twice as rabid.

“It was thin enough to slip under the fence. Distracted, mad, or hungry… That one has to die before it gets to the chickens.” Tom said as he fumbled and dropped one of the bullets into the dust of the vegetable patch. He let out a curse as he hastily dropped onto a knee and grabbed the bullet, jamming it into the loading port of his rifle. “I can make the shot, but they may test the barricade… You think you can stay with Joe?” he asked. “If they surround any of us we’re done for...”

Stella nodded. “Kill the vermin, then get back here.” A quick glance at the chicken coop had her grimacing. “Are you accurate with that rifle?”

Tom nodded. “As good as Arthur.”

“Then get back into the house after. I’d rather not have you out in the open while this goes down.” It took a great deal of effort to keep her voice from shaking.

The snarl of hunger from the beasts had become some carnal melody. More of them were pressing against the fences now. Some of them had begun to prowl closer to the barn too. Lin had taken steps in front of Roy protectively, sharpened shovel held in a steely grip. Roy was sporting a bolt action, thumb on the safety by the bolt. Joe racked his shotgun with the audible screech of grinding metal, the weapon held loosely at his hip.

“Stella. Do you know the first rule of fightin’ the local wildlife in Wrath?”

The beasts had begun to push against the fence with more fervor, some of the smaller beasts scrabbling underneath the wood railing and digging furrows into the dirt to get underneath. Stella swallowed, feeling her heart begin to race. Unconsciously feathers lengthened and darkened as her demonic form began to pull to the fore. The angelic wound in her side only a dull throb compared to the growing panic in her head.

“No.” She was surprised at how shaky her voice was when she responded.

Joe turned to see Tom crouched, rifle aimed at the lone runt about to attack the chicken coop. “First rule, don’t hesitate.” He checked the chamber of his shotgun one more time before rolling his shoulders. “Tom! Take the shot.”

The first shot rang out like the clarion bells of armageddon. Tom’s rifle barrel exploded in a flash bright enough to eclipse the sun. Stella let out a squawk of alarm, her head turning just in time to see the neck of the beast stalking towards the chicken coop disappear in a black mist. It staggered a step before sagging onto the dirt, twitching. One heartbeat of silence after. One heartbeat for the thundering gunshot to roll over the hills of Wrath. One heartbeat for beast and demon to collect their breath.

Then the beasts responded.

They howled and left a wooden ruin as they cleaved through the fence, the dogs splitting into two groups to attack the vegetable patch and the barn proper. In moments Joe had braced his stance and brought the lever action up, aiming down the length of the barrel and firing in a steady rhythm. Each shot was like the rumble of thunder as plastic and brass shells tumbled to the dirt. Where he fired blood followed. The first beast of leathery hide and serrated teeth crumpled into the dirt missing chunks of flesh.

Joe hazarded one glance behind him to see both Stella and Tom frozen in fear. “What’re you two waitin’ for, an invitation!?” He crouched and began reloading his shotgun with practiced ease, hand dropping towards his radio for a moment. “Packs splittin off in two. Watch out, Lin.”

Lin flashed him a thumbs up before spinning the shovel and ramming its sharpened edge into the nearest beast's head. Another beast moved to pounce, but a shot from Roy left it a bloody heap beside the one Lin had just killed.

“Worry about yerself hon, the other half’s sprintin’ towards the coop!” Lin’s voice growled from adrenaline and bloodlust both. She was already a whirling dervish of Wrathian iron and stout wood, heavy panting mixing with the crunch of broken bone and the sickening pulp of minced flesh.

Joe turned his head and let out a curse, rising from his crouch into a run. Another thunderous crack from Tom’s rifle dropped another beast sprinting towards the coop.

“Let’s go! Ignore the crops, we can’t lose anymore damn livestock this season!” Joe growled as he slammed the lever home and braced his gun against his shoulder, scowling as another shot rocked his shoulders back.

Stella was running beside the imp, gun in hand before she even realized it. This is utter madness!!! What am I doing!? Royal sensibilities were overridden by utter desperation, and she didn’t realize she was shooting until the revolver kicked against her wrist. Most of her shots went wide as the gun trembled in her grip, but one shot hit a beast in the knee. The limb twisted at an odd angle when weight fell on it, the beast stumbling into the dirt. Joe finished it off with a quick shot before turning to Stella with a disapproving glare.

“Brace yer stance, breathe, an’ quit wastin’ the damn ammo!” Always one to reinforce words with action, Joe set an example as he stood his ground and dropped another beast with a trio of shots. The beast's body tumbled twitching to his side.

“I’m a bloody noble Joe! This isn’t exactly something I’m used to!” Stella roared back in protest as she hastily reloaded her revolver. Spent brass dropped uselessly on the ground, hands trembling so hard it was a miracle she loaded six bullets into the empty cylinder at all. The beasts had begun to surround them. Fresh meat was fresh meat after all, even if they shot back. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Stella growled, eyes flashing crimson as rage and panic flared. “I’m of noble blood! I won’t be intimidating by a fucking animal!” She shouted as she extended her arm at the nearest beast and fired.

Tom held his own, surprisingly enough. He had run up to the porch for some partial high ground. The last line of defense. His next shot took a beast by the neck. A beast that had leapt to bite into Stella’s side. She let out a squawk of surprise as its heavy body pushed her into a stumble. Seeing weakness, the beasts around her and Joe charged. Joe was pulled to the ground screaming a battlecry of murder, bowie knife bloody by the time he hit the ground. The thundercrack of Tom’s rifle became muffled by the sound of snarls and growls, and Stella’s world became one of agony and panic.

She heard snarls, felt gnashing teeth tear into feathers and muscle. Screams came out in ragged gasps. Not again!!! I will not die like this!!! Rage filled her. Rage almost forgotten in the simple life she now led. Her dagger was in her hand before she knew it, hands extending into demonic talons. She screamed loud and long in defiance to a brutal death. The stout knife she held sank into flesh. Blood pooled onto her knuckles, and a shock vibrated up her arm as she felt the blade grate against bone. In her off hand the revolver lay forgotten, talons dripping and steaming as she cut through beasts that were intent on tearing her apart. She looked to see her talons glowing, almost blinding white. Those talon tips would’ve been pink, if it weren’t caked with the blood and viscera of the beasts that had tried to pin her down.

She rose from a pile of dead with madness in her eyes and death in her hands, throwing a dead canine with derision to the dirt. “I won’t be killed by filth like you!” She screamed, rummaging through blood and bodies as she grabbed the revolver from underneath her.

“Stella!” Tom’s call pulled her partially out of her battle lust. He was pointing desperately towards the barn. “Lin and Roy need help!” He shouted as he reloaded his weapon.

Lin was separated, surrounded and fighting for her life. Roy had retreated back into the barn, firing out one of the windows. One of the barn doors had been turned into a wooden ruin, and Stella could see the bulls of the herd becoming a wall of bony plates and horns to keep the rabid dogs from slaughtering the rest of the herd inside. She could barely see Martin in the shadow of the barn, clutching his knife with panicked eyes.

She turned to see Joe holding his own. His shotgun had been all but forgotten, bandolier empty and spent shells surrounding him. His forearms and chest lay caked with black blood, his own and that of the beasts. But the blade of his knife gleamed wetly in the cruel Wrathian sun. He turned to Stella with madness in his eyes, twisting his boot on the neck of a canine.

“Me an’ Tom’ll hold em off here. Get these fuckers off my wife’s back, then push em off my land!!!” He shouted as he plunged his knife into the filthy beast underneath him.

Blinding white feathers trailed behind her as she sped towards the barn in the blink of an eye. Blade and revolver holstered, she crashed into the feral animals as a whirling dervish of blinding white feathers and sharpened claws. Hardened feathers were sent out in a fan that tore through the press of rabid beasts in front of Lin. The imp gave her the briefest thanks before the press of battle had her bringing that sharpened shovel head down with lethal precision again.

“Not many more here, I’ll push 'em back. Get to Roy!” Lin called out amidst the din of gunfire and metal sundering bodies.

Stella turned to see one of the beasts jump into the barn just to get gored by one of the bulls horns. The bull let out a triumphant bellow as it threw the twitching beast to the side. The other canines looked at their dead friends uneasily, so focused on the herd in the barn they didn’t see Stella attack them from behind. Talons sank into fleshy underbellies or tore through the weakness between bony plates. Stella let out a blood curdling screech as she began to see the beasts run away, filtering back into the holes they’d made in the fence.

“First you have the gall to try and kill me then fucking run!? Get back here! ” She unholstered her revolver, the pistol barking as she emptied the cylinder into their backs. Trails of dust were kicked up from her ragged aim. The odd shot hit its mark, but more often than not bullets pinged harmlessly off bony hide. She was breathing raggedly as the last of the beasts ran back into the hills they came from.

Lin put a hand on her wrist, making her lower the pistol. “It’s done, Stella.” The imp said, bloody shovel resting on her shoulder. She sported many new wounds, savage cuts on forearms and legs that trickled rivers of black. “Let’s get you inside, get those cuts cleaned up.” Lin grinned though, pulling her hand back. “How’s yer side?”

Stella was breathing heavily, rage still fresh in her mind. “It’s doing fine. Why?”

Lin grinned and tapped her hand until she looked down with an annoyed grimace. Blinding white feathers gleamed back at her. Tipped in pink and the black of her adversary’s blood. But it was there, resplendent and powerful. Her demonic form, strong and unrestrained. She stretched talon’s long enough to disembowel, and marveled at feathery down regal enough for a true lady of the land. Stella’s rage turned into elation as she realized something important.

She had fully healed. A touch to her side elicited only the dullest throb.

She was about ready to jump and skip in giddiness until she saw the weariness in Lin’s eyes. “I’m glad to see you so happy, but I need to take care of Joe. Let’s see if we can disinfect those cuts of yers too.” Lin said before turning back to the barn. “Roy, Martin, get a count of all our livestock, then follow us inside.”

Stella saw the only surviving barn door now leaning askew, a hinge or two dubiously holding the door upright by a few screws. Luckily, the two young imps seemed mostly unharmed. Even the bulls that had stepped forward to protect the herd seemed fine.

Turning, she saw Tom helping Joe back to the house. Lin was already limping towards the house as well. Pain slowly replaced adrenaline and elation both.

Stella walked up to the imp, pulling her close and letting her brace on the Goetia’s leg. “Lead the way, Lin.” Stella said as she dragged them both back to the house.

~~~ ~~~

Ars Goetia blood was a potent thing. Enhanced healing meant that most of Stella’s wounds were nothing more than scars by the end of the day. The same could not be said for Joe and Lin. The two sewed each other back together with needle and thread. They were huddled in the kitchen, bloody towels and a bucket of murky water sat alongside used medical supplies. Tom was busy taking stock of their weapons while Roy and Martin quieted the panicked livestock and chickens. Stella stayed outside, the setting sun and howling winds granting her a reprieve from a day wrought with blood. In the distance dead bodies were piled high. She could smell carrion from here. The tang of iron and vacated bowels was a smell that made her want to retch. Still, she pushed through it. Her eyes were focused on the front of the house, waiting for Arthur and Sallie May to return.

Lin opened the kitchen window in front of the sink and whistled to catch Stella’s attention. “Come inside, Stella. They may not be back fer a while.”

The Goetia shook her head, arms crossed against a fresh tank top. Her other top had been cut to ribbons from the attack. “No. We were attacked in safe enough lands, I can hardly imagine what they went through on that damn hunt.”

Lin pursed her lips. “She’ll be fine. She’s a hardy gal, an’ Arthur takes after his pa.”

Stella responded with a noncommittal grunt, gaze sweeping the windswept plains. It was a nice evening for sightseeing, all things considered. The rim of a setting sun cast the sky in vibrant hues of orange and yellow. Far above that violet and black lay a void awash with stars. That was one thing she’d begrudgingly admit, Wrath had much better sunsets than Pride ever will. Lin was about to say more, but Joe’s pained grunt quickly pulled her attention away.

The rusty whine of the backdoor signaled Martin returning from checking on the chickens. From the sound of it they were all accounted for, if the relieved sighs of Joe and Lin was anything to go by. He quickly made his way back upstairs to his room. 

Roy had sauntered up to the front porch, leaning back against the railing and looking back at her. “Enjoyin’ the night?”

Stella shook her head. “I’m waiting on your brother and sister. The good view is just a coincidence.”

Roy stared at her for a moment. His usual pomp and sass gone. He sighed and combed his white hair with his hand. “Shit… Never been one fer compliments but… You did good today.” Stella raised an eyebrow, her beak taking on an unconvinced tilt. “Hey, it came as a surprise too. I chalked you up as some ditzy blueblood that’d run at the first sign of trouble.” He looked over to the barn with its ruined door. “Yer more stubborn than most though.” He smirked and pushed off the railing of the porch, lightly punching Stella’s arm. “We’ll make you a proper Wrathian yet. You’ve definitely got the rage fer it. Anyhow, I gotta check out back, see if anything was lost in the chicken coup.” He headed towards the front door.

“Martin’s just checked, they’re all fine,” Stella said.

Roy nodded in thanks. “That makes my life easier…” He opened the door a fraction, then looked back at her. His cocky smirk returned. But it didn’t hold the underhanded malice it used to. “See you tomorrow, blueblood.”

Stella let out a chuckle and nodded. “Likewise, imp.”

Silence reigned once again as Roy shut the door. A silence interrupted by the hushed tones of Joe and Lin. A silence reinforced by the gentle susurrus of evening winds. The sun fell below the horizon with one last flash of light, the chirp of insects spreading throughout the night to accompany her. Fireflies danced in front of the porch not long after, like swirling stars fallen from the sky above. It was… Peaceful. Oddly enough. When was the last time she felt so peaceful? Perhaps during the rainstorm when she was sequestered to the piano. But how about back in Pride? Stuck in a loveless marriage, stuck in a happily ever after that never was? Speaking of happily ever afters… Stella looked down at her crossed arms stretched over garments that were nothing less than commoner clothing. Such a humble lifestyle held more excitement in a month or two than compared to her lifetime in Pride. What’s happening to me…? It was a while before someone joined her on the porch again.

The door opened and closed with a creak. “Waitin’ fer the other two?” A gruff voice asked. Joe’s upper body was wrapped in bandages, arms included. How he was standing with so many wounds was a testament to his hardiness. “Got a message from Arthur, they’re heading back now.” He hobbled towards the railing of the front porch with phone in hand. Stella saw the swirling message of a text in the dull light. “Somethin’ happened,” he said simply.

Stella frowned, pushing herself off the front of the house and joining Joe at the front of the railing. “Any details I should know about?” She inquired.

Joe shook his head. “Nope.” Stella let out a huff and leaned against the railing. “Lin’s inside checkin’ on Roy an’ Martin. Wants to make sure they’re alright. You don’t mind helpin’ me with Arthur an’ Sallie May?”

Stella was checking her nails, but nodded in agreement. “That’s why I’m outside.”

Joe chuckled and turned his gaze back to the front of the ranch. As if on command the family truck sputtered down the road with the engines low bellows. The truck rumbled beside the house with high beams illuminating Goetia and imp alike. The engine and lights died, bathing Stella and Joe in silence and darkness both.

“Pa, need a little help here.” Arthur’s low voice called from the driver's seat. He hopped out and headed to the passenger’s side of the truck with an odd tenderness. He hobbled forward with a visible limp, letting out pained grunts as he opened the door.

Joe walked to his side and looked into the passenger seat. He sucked in a breath when he saw what was inside.

“It’s not bad, is it?” Sallie May asked. A slight tremor of pain in her voice.

The imp’s undercurrent of pain made Stella’s heart sink.

Joe let out a slow breath. “Can you walk?” he asked slowly. Sallie May shook her head. “Shit…” He turned to Stella. “You don’t mind helpin’ me out here?” He pointed to some of the equipment in the back. “I’ll bring her inside. Arthur, go ahead and pack everything up.”

The imp's eldest son nodded without argument and began unpacking their equipment. Stella moved slowly to join him. Gear from radio’s to rifles were stacked into her hands, but she hardly noticed. Her avian gaze locked on the shriveled form of Sallie May that tenderly got out of the truck. Her leg was a black ruin, the bandages wrapped around it more a formality than proper first aid.

“What the hell did this? I thought we taught you better than that.” Joe chided as he helped her up the steps of the front porch.

Sallie May sucked in a breath, pain making her hold her tongue. “I’ll tell you about it after I get some whiskey in me… As if you can bitch, the hell happened to you and the barn?” She gruffly responded, before locking eyes with the Goetia. “Oh hey… I’m home…” she said weakly.

Stella broke out in a wan, rueful smile. “Come on Sallie May, where’s that Wrathian hardiness I’ve heard so much about?”

Sallie May barked out a laugh that ended quickly with a gasp of pain. “Fuckin… Bad luck at the hunt is all.” She grumbled. A look at the barn and Joe’s bandaged state had the imp frowning in concern. “I take it I’m not the only one that had a shit day…”

Stella gave her a devilish smile, one of crimson eyes and a proud twist of the beak. “Oh you don’t have to worry about that imp. I took care of it,” she said, voice haughty and triumphant.

Sallie May scoffed, looking at the pile of dead in the back. “I call bullshit.”

Stella pushed open the door, utterly smug as she looked down at the imp. “Oh you’ll regret that. Your family can vouch for me.”

Sallie May turned to her father with a raised eyebrow. Joe simply shrugged, helping her inside. She looked back to Stella. “Well, let me get my leg checked an’ get a stiff drink in me. Then you can tell me all about it.”

Stella fumbled with some of the equipment with a curse, following the two imps into the foyer. “Deal.” 

As Arthur and Sallie May got medical attention of their own, they began to talk about a hunt that had gone relatively well. Some of the other townsfolk had been injured, but the town would be able to stay afloat from the meat and processed hides of the animals culled during the hunt. Stella talked and laughed with the family, but seeing them all bandaged in one form or another, a question began to pester her in the back of her mind. The whole reason she’d stayed was because she needed to heal. The angelic wound was only a dull throb now. But glancing at the bandaged up family made her introspective. When would she leave? And why did the prospect of leaving hurt so much?

Chapter Text

“What do you think?” Stella asked, rubbing her forehead with a sigh as she stared at the newly repaired fence.

“Looks good.” Sallie May replied.

The imp rested against a pair of crutches as she gave the newly repaired fence an appraising eye. The Goetia’s eyes trailed back down to the imps leg, now splinted and wrapped in so many bandages it may as well have been a cast. The hunt the day before wasn’t quite a disaster, but a few hunters had gotten badly injured when some boars came charging out of a thicket. Sallie May and a few others were hurt badly, but luckily there weren’t any deaths. “One of our better hunts.” Arthur had said when Stella looked at Sallie May with concern. She didn’t quite know how to feel about that. But considering her own run in with the beasts the day before, she thought it a miracle nobody had died.

Joe and Lin were in the same boat as their daughter. The wounds from the day before had taken their toll. Stella saw Arthur and Tom in the vegetable patch today, while Joe was busy tending to the herd. Lin was in the chicken coop as well. Stella was surprised to see Roy and Martin doing some housework in their mothers stead.

“So, how’re you feelin’, princess?” Sallie May’s question pulled Stella back to the present.

“Fine.” She responded curtly. Her feathers flashed blinding white as she released her demon form for a split second. Her eyes narrowed in a self indulgent grin as she felt power surge through her body. “More than fine. It seems the effects of that blessed bullet’s finally out of my system.”

Sallie May let out a huff. “Good, that means you won’t have any problems with work today.” She grumbled.

Stella raised an eyebrow at the imp. “You seem rather crotchety today, imp.”

Sallie May sighed, kicking a nearby pebble away from the newly repaired fence. “Got a lecture and a half from ma and pa about my leg last night.”

The Goetia smirked and started walking back towards the house. Sallie May moved to follow, flanking her with the chunky sound of crutches grinding against packed dirt. Stella reached down and grabbed a toolbox. The hammer inside clanged against spare nails.

“What else are we supposed to do today?” Stella asked as she sauntered back to the front porch.

Sallie May pointed to the barn door. “Roy fixed the hinges on the barn door, but there’s still some damage on some of the planks. We may need to fix that up too, before one of the bulls gets the bright idea of breakin’ through.”

Stella clicked her tongue derisively at the thought. “We got more planks for that repair job?” She asked.

Sallie May snorted. “Of course, in the back of the barn.”

Stella looked at the front porch and the succor of shade. She even saw a handful of water bottles forgotten by the staircase heading to the front. She grimaced and turned to the barn instead. They couldn’t take a break yet, they still had things to do. Sallie May followed wordlessly. The duo exchanged greetings with Tom and Arthur as they passed them, the two brothers assessing the damage the beasts had done trampling through the fields yesterday. When they got to the barn Stella let out an impressed whistle. Deep gouges were cut into the wood. Those divots cast stray rays of light into the barn proper, straw and stable barely visible in the darkness.

“Damn.” Stella remarked. 

She grabbed one of the damaged planks just to have it fall apart in her hands. Her lips thinned as she brushed a hand across her shorts to brush away the splintered wood. With the help of Sallie May she began tearing away the destroyed planks to see exactly what she had to work with. The imp pulled away after a while to grab some replacement planks from the back of the barn. She huffed and puffed as she pushed through the pain of her leg. 

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” Stella asked.

Sallie May shook her head.  “Too much to do to rest. Besides…” After dropping the planks in front of Stella, she grabbed a spare hammer to rip out stray nails from the damaged door. She grunted as she worked, tossing a nail into the opened toolbox by Stella’s feet. “It’s Wrathian tradition to fight through the pain.”

Stella pursed her lips, gesturing for some nails and one of the planks. They were given to her quickly. The Goetia held some nails with her beak before responding. “Wouldn’t a faster recovery allow you to work quicker?”

Sallie May grimaced. “That’s not how things work here princess, you know that. Anyhow, with Millie gone, only me and Arthur can really pick things up when Joe and Lin are hurt.” She pointed out. She sighed as she settled down on a nearby stool, eyes locked on Joe. The imp was busy milking some of the cows. If the blood stained bandages were any indication, he was already pushing himself more than necessary. “They’re gettin’ old, Stella. They can’t keep pushin’ themselves like this anymore.” Sallie May grimaced as she looked down at her leg. “If I can’t even ignore one screwed up leg, what’s the point of takin’ over the farm?”

Stella looked at the country imp, seeming so defeated and forlorn as she looked at the wounded forms of her parents. That sad grimace really didn’t suit her… “You have me now. That won’t be a problem anymore.” Stella said offhandedly as she continued to repair a part of the barn door. “If need be I can hire a few farmhands. And when I return from Pride I can bring a few top of the line doctors for whatever ailments Joe and Lin may have.” She began listing off potential solutions as she hammered away at the door.

She hadn’t realized Sallie May stopped talking, the imp staring at the Goetia with arms propped on her uninjured knee. “Sounds like you really thought about this.”

Stella stopped hammering, turning back to the imp. “I… I guess I have…” Stella turned around, checking her handiwork on the barn door. The Goetia began to blush, and hid it by turning to stare at the rolling hills. “You all took care of me during my time of need. It’s only fair.” She hastily blurted out.

Sallie May laughed, seeing the Goetia’s sudden nervousness. But she didn’t pounce and tease the noble like she usually would. She fiddled with a nail, twirling the rusted iron between her fingers and ruminated on what the Goetia said.

“Thanks.” Sallie May flicked the rusted nail back into the toolbox, turning to inspect the barn door as she talked. “Fer the longest time it was just us, you know? The family and the town. Then Millie left, and things just… Got harder.” She turned to the Goetia with a sincere smile. “Really, it means a lot.” Sallie May rubbed the back of her neck, grimacing. “Shit… I’ve never really been good at all this touchy-feely stuff.” Those last few words were shaky, equal parts nervous laugh and wrathian drawl.

Stella was leaning on the other barn door, listening as the imp spoke. She looked away, feathered ruffling anxiously. “Don’t mention it.” She whispered.

Sallie May shook her head. “No. You could’ve left whenever you wanted, you know. Could’ve just packed up as soon as you were healed. Yer tough, you could’ve figured somethin’ out on yer own. You didn’t need to help some imp family on the edge of Wrath, but you did anyway. Satan dammit Stella! If you weren’t there yesterday…” Sallie May let out a long breath, looking at Joe and Lin again. 

Stella extended a hand to Sallie May’s shoulder. “Consider it thanks for saving me all those weeks ago. I guess I haven’t properly shown my appreciation yet.” Her gaze moved to the quaint farm she’d been staying at for so long now. “Besides, your hospitality deserves to be rewarded, being so accommodating to a Goetia despite your meager holdings,” she said, some of her haughtiness returning.

Sallie May rolled her eyes and punched Stella’s thigh. The Goetia let out a surprised squawk at the brief flare of shock and slight pain. Sallie May’s cocky grin returned.

“I may be openin’ up to you princess, but I won’t have you shit talkin’ how much crap I own compared to you Pride folk.”

Stella laughed, rubbing where she’d been hit and straightening up. “I’d be disappointed if you let me get away with it.” She turned back to the barn door.

The bright wood stared back at her, nails like iron studs glimmering dully in the sun. The hinges held fast and a quick press on the wood ensured that it wouldn’t budge if it took a solid hit. Satisfied, Stella began packing her tools back into the toolbox. Sallie May helped her, hobbling up to Stella’s side as soon as they finished. They both made their way towards the house now that the barn had been fixed. They beelined straight to the refrigerator, pulling out some cold water before settling down on the porch to enjoy the shade.

Sallie May sitting down on the rocking chair with Stella leaning against its railing. They both took sips from their water bottles when Joe arrived.

“Stella, you haven’t wrangled us any dinner yet, have you?” he asked.

Stella raised an eyebrow and shook her head. “Wrangled any dinner? Did I hear that right?”

Joe nodded. “Damn right ya did. Arthur was goin’ to kill us dinner but yer welcome to try,” he said.

Sallie May was grinning from ear to ear. “Oh I gotta see this!”

Stella raised an eyebrow. “See what?”

Sallie May pushed right on ahead, hobbling up to Joe’s side. “Has anyone made any bets yet?”

Joe was smirking at his daughter, nodding. “Me an’ Arthur got money on the boar. She may have done great yesterday, but I doubt she can wrangle one of our livestock.”

“I am right here you know!!!” Stella hissed.

The two imps ignored her. “I’m bettin’ on the noble,” Sallie May said. “Anyone else bettin’ on the blueblood?”

Joe nodded. “Lin is. Not sure about yer other brothers yet.”

Stella stepped in front of them, tight smile and slit eyes pulling their attention up to the noble. “Now I’m very intrigued as to what you have in store for me imps.” She stared daggers at Joe, who seemed caught between trying not to laugh and looking far too amused. “Lead the way, Joe.”

~~~ ~~~

There was a lone boar stomping around, separated from the rest. Relatively old, ornery, but just as dangerous as the rest of the farm animals. It prowled the fenced in hovel of dirt with an imperious air, grunting as it dug furrows into the dirt with its tusks. Arthur was leaning against a nearby fence, arms crossed and knife held loosely in his hands. He gave Stella the barest wave when he saw her coming over.

“Hey. Up for wranglin’ dinner tonight?” he asked boredly. He offered her a knife as he talked.

Stella stared at the blade. A simple sliver of steel with a slight curve. She took it without comment as she looked at the boar that would be tonights dinner.

“So I just jam this into its neck and kill it?” Stella asked, unimpressed.

Joe snorted, grabbing a nearby lasso and tossing it to Stella. The Goetia caught it with an inquisitive eye.

Sallie May rested her crutches on the fence beside Arthur, crossing her arms and leaning against the fence beside her brother. “Gotta jam that between the plates, armor’s thinner near the joints so try to hit there. Just like the dogs you dealt with yesterday.” She offered the advice with an eager glint in her eye. “Kick it’s ass Stella, I got souls ridin’ on this.”

Arthur smirked. He looked at Stella, giving her a quick once over before turning back to his sister. “You sure about that sis? Stella may be a tough bird, but she’s not Wrath tough.”

Stella sneered at the imp. “I heard that!” She growled.

Arthur raised his arms in a mollifying gesture. “Hey! You can kill a few wild dogs, good fer you. But a hog’s a whole different thing to deal with.” He pointed to the hog with an amused expression. “Half it’s body weight is armor, the other half’s enough muscle an’ tusk to make any beast think twice about takin’ it on alone. Not to mention the thing gets pissed as Satan himself when it realizes something’s tryin’ to kill it.”

Stella rolled her eyes. “This won’t be a problem at all then.” She gripped her lasso and knife as she stepped over the fence. “I’ll have this thing killed before you can blink.” She flashed Arthur a haughty smirk before turning towards the boar with an imperious glance. “This shouldn’t be too hard…” She thought aloud.

“Famous last words.” Joe murmured.

Sallie May rolled her eyes. “You’ll do fine! Probably…”

Stella huffed and rolled her eyes. She stalked towards the boar, even footing bringing her closer to the front of the boar with knife in hand. The lasso was slowly untangled from her arm with the clumsiness of someone not familiar with the tool. Stella looked at the lasso uneasily, never having actually used such a thing before. When she turned to the boar she realized she didn’t really have to worry. The hog was minding its own business, face first in the dirt and blissfully unaware that she was behind it. Just slit its throat and be done with it . Stella thought, raising the knife over her head and getting ready to pounce.

The world became a blur as she jumped onto the hog, hearing the cheers of the imps behind her as she wrapped the lasso around the hog’s neck in spectacular fashion and pulled it up on its hind legs. Spurred by the entertained cheers behind her, she drove the knife home into the boar’s hide. She cried out in triumph as she felt the steel sink into flesh, then felt it chip on something hard and rebound off the thick flesh. She looked down in surprise to see that she’d hardly made a scratch on the boar. Furthermore, she realized that the boar was fuckin pissed .

Uh oh .

“Shit!” Stella yelped in surprise as the hog bucked underneath her, throwing her bodily back to the fence where Sallie May and Arthur leaned.

It took a few moments before the world stopped spinning, a moment more to stop seeing double of everything. She realized she was draped over the fence like she was in a boxing ring. A quick look to the side showed Joe and Arthur clutching their sides laughing.

“A-Are you doin’ alright princess?” Sallie May asked between gulps of air. She seemed to be trying to keep her own laugh inside if her smirk was any indication.

Ahead of her the boar kicked at the ground with an annoyed snort, giving her a derisive look before trotting back to upturned root and vegetables to feast.

“What just happened!?” Stella demanded.

Arthur leaned forward, tipping his horns towards the hog. “You just got yer ass beat by a pig.”

Stella’s eyes narrowed. Arthur smiled.

Roy hopped atop the fence, sitting on it with a grin he shared with his sister. “Did the wranglin’ start yet?”

Sallie May nodded. “Yep. Hog’s got the first win.”

Roy laughed. “Aw shit! I missed it.” He turned to Stella. “Cmon, kick it’s ass. I got money ridin’ on you.”

Stella balked at him. “You’re gambling too!?”

Roy shrugged. “ We need to have some fun somehow. Arthur was goin’ to kill it but we kinda convinced him to let you take a crack at it. Besides, today’s been dull.”

Stella pushed herself off of the fence with a huff and ruffled feathers. Her beak was twisted into an ugly sneer, knuckles white as she tightly gripped the knife. “When I’m done killing this damn hog you’re all next on the chopping block!” Their collective laughter was her only response. She cursed under her breath as she stalked towards the boar again.

Roy let out an entertained cackle. “You don’t have to rush, ya know. Lin isn’t here yet!”

Stella rolled her eyes and tried to push away the buzz of conversation coming from the imps behind her. The boar was wary now, rounding on her again with slit eyes and an equally annoyed expression. She mirrored him as she crouched low, knife held in front of her and eyes burning with rage. She barreled into the hog again with knife striking hardened hide. Pain flared in her sides as the boar began to kick, bruises left after every strike. She grappled with the boar for a few more moments before it got its head under her stomach. She let out a gasp as she became intimately familiar with how hard a hog can headbutt. Sent through the air again, she crashed against the fence with a frustrated groan and stars in her eyes.

She looked up to see Sallie May amidst the dazzle of her concussion. The imp was staring at her with a bemused expression, chin resting against her crossed arms.

“You know, I’ve had demons fall fer me before. But not quite like this,” she teased.

Stella was about to spit out a venomous retort when she heard snorting from the field. She turned to see the boar prancing in victory. It was gloating ! Lin leaned on the fence beside Sallie May, a stern expression on her face.

“Quit playin’ with the damn hog Stella, kill it already.” Sallie May said, but if that shit eating grin was any indication, she was just trying to rile the Goetia up.

“What do you think I’m doing?” Stella retorted, pushing herself up on her elbows and waiting for the world to stop spinning.

The sound of a gate opening and closing behind them made them all turn. Lin had left the chicken coop to join them. She stood beside Sallie May, hands on her hips.

“So, thinkin’ about quittin’ yet?” Lin asked.

“Not a chance.” Stella retorted, trying and failing to keep the world from spinning.

Lin sighed and leaned forward, pulling Stella up so she could lean against the fence. “All I see is our resident noble messin’ around with dinner. Where did all the vigor from yesterday go?” Her only response was half heard mumbles and curses.

Sallie May fussed over Stella as well, wiping some blood off of the Goetia’s alabaster feathers and placing a cool water bottle on some of the bruises on her arms. “Stay low, try to get behind him.” She pointed towards a chink in the hogs neck. “It’ll take a few stabs, but you can pierce the hide there. Now cmon, I got money ridin’ on you,” she said with a laugh as she pushed Stella back towards the hog.

The Goetia stumbled in surprise, turning to hear cheers and jeers alike from the imp family. In front of her the boar had begun pacing, eager for another tumble.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this…” Stella grumbled as she sauntered back toward the hog with murder in her eyes and knife in hand.

There was another exchange with the boar, and another after that. The chink in the boars armor slowly growing larger as the day went on. But so did Stella’s wounds. It was well into the afternoon when she stared down the hog with the imp family cheering behind her. Martin and Tom had joined them all too, the farm's many jobs all but forgotten as they watched Stella fumble through killing their dinner.

The boar was the one to charge in the exchange that finally killed it. Stella dodged to the side, grabbing the handle of the lasso that had eluded her and pulled the boar close. It let out a squeal of surprise as she pulled it into a steel like grip, and with three heavy stabs to the boar’s neck finally pierced the heavy plate. The beast underneath shuddered in surprise at having its hide broken through. Stella let out a triumphant cry, pulling against the knife and slitting the boars throat with a quick motion. It kicked against her grip, strength leaving it as blood pooled into the dirt below. Finally done with the task, she sagged atop the hog to hear the exultant cheers of Sallie, Roy, and Lin, and the despairing cries of Arthur and Joe.

“Hah! Pay up!!!” Sallie May shouted at Arthur.

The imp was grumbling up a storm as he fished in his pocket and grabbed his wallet, thrusting a few wads of spare souls into the imp's hands. Lin was looking at her husband with an uncharacteristically smug grin.  Joe sighed and gave her a handful of souls too, the bet split between Lin and Roy. Stella watched the imp family with an unamused expression as she dragged the dead hog behind her. She handed both the lasso handle and knife to Joe before sagging onto the fence. Sallie May gave her a water bottle that she took gratefully, chugging down the water with a relieved groan.

“How’re you feelin’?” Sallie May asked.

“ Fuckin tired .” Stella grumbled, catching her breath as Joe and Arthur pulled the hog to the house to be skinned and prepped. “So, enjoy the show…?”

Sallie May nodded, laughing. “Honestly, I thought you would’ve quit halfway through. Surprised you pushed as long as you did.”

Stella took another sip of her water bottle. “I should’ve.” She admitted. “But hearing your brother and father laughing kept pissing me off.”

Sallie May couldn’t help a smile break across her face. “Hey, there were a few funny moments in there.”

Stella’s beak let out an annoyed click. “Much to my detriment.”

Sallie May hitched a thumb towards the house. “Come on, take a shower and get a new change of clothes. I’ll see if I can find something fer those bruises of yours. Take a break, you’ve earned it.”

Stella drank what was left in the water bottle with a nod. “That’s a plan I’m willing to get behind.” She stalked towards the house parallel to Joe and Arthur, weary body pushing through the front door.

~~~ ~~~

Night had fallen on the farm with a characteristic desert chill and a blanket of starlight. Lights from the house cast long rays onto the hills beyond. The night wasn’t silent, however. The kitchen light’s electric hum and the sound of Lin washing the dishes, the younger brothers wasting the time away in the room upstairs, and the crackle of a radio nattering on about some news down in Envy made the world feel oddly cozy. Stella was staring at a now empty plate and tapping with a fork held primly in her talons. Her mind was elsewhere. She was fully healed, for one. If she could wrestle down a boar with enough fury to match, not to mention fight off an attack of wild dogs, her wound was nothing more than a distant memory. Her hand pressed unconsciously at her side where there was only the dullest throb. Satisfied, she rested her arm back on the table and continued to stare out at windswept plains shrouded in night. Why am I still here? Sallie May’s right. I could just stand up and leave. And I could take revenge on Will and his gang of bastards for doing this to me… So why is that goal so unappealing? When did revenge feel so hollow?

Sallie May settled on a chair beside her, crutches leaning against the side of the table. “What’s up?” she asked. “You haven’t said a word since dinner started.” Stella was about to respond, but Lin’s growls grabbed their attention. Stella frowned, but Sallie May simply shrugged. “It’s just the town again. That damn gang’s on everyone’s last nerves. They’ve started goin’ around to different farms again. An’ they’re bein’ much less nice about it this time around.”

Stella scoffed, shaking her head. “Of course they would.” She placed the fork down and leaned back, staring up at the flickering light on the ceiling. “How’s the leg?”

Sallie May sucked in a breath, tensing and untensing her foot. “Still shit. Slow healin’, but I should be fine in a week or so.”

Stella hummed appreciatively at that, giving the leg the barest glance. “Almost as resilient as a Goetia. Color me impressed, imp.”

The imp smiled but shook her head. “Nah, I’m just one hardy bitch.”

The duo shared a chuckle at that. Speaking of healing, Stella looked back down at her side, then at her hand. Fingers lengthened into talons, and feathers became almost blinding and razor sharp. Feathers cut deep furrows into the wood when she clenched and unclenched her fist. Sallie May watched the entire time, leaning against the backrest of the chair and staring intently.

“Yer demon form?”

Stella nodded. “Yep. I was able to use it during the attack yesterday. I don’t have any problems calling on it now.” She sighed, looking back at Sallie May. “You know I need to leave soon, right?”

Sallie May’s lips thinned. She let out a slow breath as she stared out the window. After a few moments she nodded her head, a wan smile spreading across her face. “I know. But I don’t like it.” She turned to the Goetia with a guilty look. “I’ve gotten so used to you bein’ around the house. It’ll feel odd without you here anymore.”

Stella’s feathers stood on end at the admission. It took a good bit of preening and blushing to get her fluffy down settled again, much to Sallie May’s warm delight. Still, the fact of the matter was she’d have to leave. A thought that brought her no joy.

“You’ll manage. You’re wrathian after all.” Stella said, more a whisper than a statement. Her only response was a solemn nod from the imp beside her.

They didn’t exchange any more words, simply enjoying each other's company. Lin was busy washing the plates in the kitchen. Joe had settled in the living room with his knife and whetstone. The metallic grate of a sharpened blade joined the sound of washed dishes and the garbled radio as he honed his blade to a keen edge. The occasional gunshot rolled through the plains; evening winds caused the window shutters to bang against the house. It felt odd that Stella felt so comfortable here now, as far from wealth and luxury as possible and yet… Closer to home than she’d felt in a long, long time.

“So. What’s the plan?” Sallie May asked.

Stella’s brows furrowed in concentration a tad. “I’ll wait until the gang clears out of town, shouldn’t be too long now. I’ll head to town, see if I can contact someone in Pride.” Sallie May’s expression began to darken, a mirror to Stella’s own mood. You know what? Fuck it. “But…” Stella began.

Sallie May raised an eyebrow, turning to Stella with an inquisitive glance.

“That means we’ve got a little bit of time left together.” Stella noted, beginning to blush. She bit her lip, trying to broach a topic that had been nagging at her for days. “Would you… Would you like to do something in the next few days? Before I leave? Just the two of us?” As she spoke, the words began to fall out of her beak in a tumble, the Goetia’s hands balled into fists in her lap to keep them from shaking. She didn’t realize her heart was racing until she felt a thunderous pounding in her head.

Sallie May blushed, looking up at the Goetia with a raised eyebrow. “Did you really just shoot yer shot like that?”

Stella sputtered, eyes goggling into pinpricks and face disappearing in a thick blush. “A simple no would suffice, imp! ” She chided, letting out a groan of embarrassment.

Sallie May laughed and shook her head, placing a hand on the Goetia’s own clenched fists. “No! No, that’s not what I meant!” She was able to say between laughter and indulgent smiles. “I just didn’t think that’s how you’d ask me out. Frankly, I’ve been tryin’ to shoot my shot too. Just never found a good time to do it.” Her smile warmed, and she squeezed the fist underneath her.

Stella’s heart skipped a beat at Sallie May’s confession. When she looked up the imp had a brighter smile than Stella could have ever hoped for.

“The answer is yes, Stella. I’d like that.” Sallie May replied.

Chapter Text

“Would you like to do something in the next few days? Before I leave? Just the two of us?” 

“Yes, Stella. I’d like that.”

Those words rang in her head on repeat. Sallie May’s uplifting smile put a bounce in the Goetia’s step, filling her head with elation and apprehension both. Still, her elation couldn’t be denied, and it distracted her to no end. The thought of their rendezvous made the Goetia giddy. Thoughts of their potential tryst came unbidden, and each time it left her heart aflutter. She was busy pulling down some window drapes when she overheard Lin from the other side of the house. The woman was practically growling as she spoke.

“Hit the Saloon again? And the Trident of Pain? At least they’re startin’ to look around the rest of the ring again, rather than sit on their asses like the last few weeks.” There was a crash in the back of the house followed by a curse.

Stella wove her way through the house, dusty drapes in hand. She saw Lin in the back of the house defeathering a chicken, the imps’ shoulder pushed up to the side of her head as she spoke into her phone. The demon on the other end of the call didn’t sound happy either, if the vehement curses were any indication. The second Lin saw Stella her eyes widened. She hastily said her goodbyes before turning off the phone, placing the partially processed chicken on a table.

“Whatcha need, darlin’?” Lin asked.

Stella looked at the bloody chicken, then the phone off to the side. “More trouble in town?”

Lin dismissed the concern with a wave. “Yeah. But nothin’ you should be worried about.” She pointed to the drapes the Goetia held. “Almost done?” she asked.

Stella nodded, looking down at the cloth draped over her arm. “Just about.” The Goetia shifted on her feet. “Say, Lin… You don’t mind me grabbing a few things from the house tonight?” Lin raised an eyebrow. “Some food, maybe a few drinks, and a spare tablecloth?”

Lin looked back at the headless, defeathered chicken with a sigh and proceeded to process it. She talked as she worked, hands bloody as she mulled over what the Goetia said. “Sure, we have some food that we can spare. We’ve also got a good vintage or two in the basement. I think Sallie May forgot about bringin’ somethin’ from town a few weeks ago. Joe will be pissed when he realizes some of his favorites disappeared but you let me deal with that.” The aging imp gave Stella a conspiratorial wink. “So, have you thought of where you’re goin’ to take my daughter yet?”

Stella blinked in surprise. “You know me and Sallie May are going somewhere tonight?”

Lin laughed, shaking her head. “My girl’s been humming a tune or two since this mornin, and you’ve been bouncin’ on your toes like yer tryin’ to fly. There’s somethin’ both of you are excited for, and it sure as shit isn’t more chores.” She sighed wistfully, pausing from processing the chicken. Its guts safely extracted from the rest of the body, Lin cleaned off the blood from her hands with a nearby cloth. “I should be thankin’ you.” She began, head turning towards the chicken behind her. “Sallie May’s been uptight since her sister left. She’s so focused on the family and the farm that she’s forgotten she needs to live her life too.” She put her phone in her pocket before turning back to the chicken.

Stella shifted on her feet anxiously. “You don’t mind me asking your daughter out like this?” Stella asked. How such a prospect made her timid, she didn’t know.

Lin pursed her lips. “She could’ve chosen worse. Like some other city folk .” She spat those last few words out with contempt. “Besides, you’ve helped us out on the farm these last few weeks, you’ve shown yer made out of sterner stuff than most of Pride. Let me finish dressin’ this thing up, and we’ll get to work on preparations. Does that sound alright?”

Stella nodded, letting out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. “Of course.”

The duo separated after a moment, leaving Stella listless as she moved around the house. Replacing the window drapes was an easy task that let her mind wander. What should she be preparing tonight exactly? Where should she set up the picnic? There weren’t many romantic areas on the farm for the picnic. A quick look down at herself had her groaning into her hands. Clothes! A proper lady of the Ars Goetia wouldn’t go to such an important occasion without a proper dress. But the closest dress that fit her in this damn ranch was nothing more than rags.

She was pacing in the living room, chin resting on a tense fist as preparations for the date rolled in her mind. Her musings were disrupted when Lin walked into the house with the fully processed chicken in hand. She gave Stella the barest glance before heading downstairs and closing the door behind her. When she returned it was with a few items under her arm and an amused look in her eye.

“You feelin’ good Stella? With how hard yer pacin’, it looks like this is yer first date.”

Stella crossed her arms with a disgruntled pout. “It is my first date…” She whispered. “The first that wasn’t arranged by family anyway…”

Lin whistled. “Really? Well shit.” She placed the items on the table, leaning against a nearby chair. “Well, can’t help you there, but I can at least help you prep.”

Stella looked at the assorted items with interest. A comfortable blanket was already piled beside a stout wicker basket and a wine carrier that had seen better days. A handful of glass bottles tinkled underneath the flickering light of the dining room. Stella gave them appraising glances, her eyes rising in surprise. There were some good drinks here. “Honey” from Beelzebubs own breweries. An old year, but a good one. She was surprised to see a bottle of Lilith’s Vineyard amidst the drinks as well. Not to mention a bottle of brandy and some cheap wines that Stella recognized from vineyards across Pride and beyond.

Her attention was pulled away as Lin returned with some foodstuffs as well. The imp was in a flurry as she placed down cheeses, breads, and sweets in front of her. Finger food mostly, or things to compliment the wine. Still, it was more than Stella could’ve ever asked for. She was still used to fine dining after all. Dead rat and Absinthe didn’t sit as well with imps as a good cheese and wine combo. Lin was mumbling to herself as she broadened the selection of foods.

“Pick out what you like from all this, I’m grabbin’ some of Sallie May’s favorites too.” Lin said.

Stella simply smiled and began packing both the picnic basket and wine carrier. More of a drinker, the wine carrier was full well before the picnic basket was finished. When it came to the food, she was more than happy to let Lin take care of those preparations. In the middle of packing the food the front door opened with the whine of well worn hinges and the thunder of heavy boots on the hardwood floor.

“Lin! You finish slaughterin’ the chicken yet?” Joe’s voice rumbled through the foyer as he walked into the dining room. The imp had an empty water bottle in hand, intent on replacing it before continuing his work outside. He stopped as soon as he saw all the packing they had done. “What’s this?” he asked.

Lin looked up to Stella, as if expecting her to answer.

Stella gulped, rubbing the back of her head before responding. “Me and Sallie May have something planned tonight,” she squeaked out in an uneasy whisper. Grimacing, she rolled her shoulders and tried to regain some semblance of grace and dignity in front of the imp. “Is there perhaps a place on the property where we could relax? After the day’s done of course.” She turned outside to see Wrath’s cruel sun scorching the dirt.

Joe huffed as he moved to the refrigerator, grabbing a new bottle of water. “Sure.” He began. He motioned for her to join him by the kitchen window, pointing a few leagues out of the property with his empty water bottle. “You see that?” he asked.

Stella joined him, leaning down to get a better look at where the imp was pointing. Amidst the rolling fields was a hill that seemed to look above the whole property and beyond. A gnarled Acacia tree rose atop its center, defiant against the desolation around it. 

“By the Acacia. Perfect place as any. Me an’ Lin used to go there back when we were datin’. Beautiful view of the skyline, fresh air, nothing much should’ve changed.” He grinned at his wife with a smirk. “And the wind usually carries away an odd noise or two.”

Lin rolled her eyes and sighed as she stood beside her husband. “Don’t quote him on that. My family was half deaf anyway.”

Joe chuckled, placing a kiss on Lin’s cheek. “As I was saying.” He continued. “Beautiful view. You get to see some of the volcanoes to the west too if that’s yer thing. Gives the night sky this beautiful purple glow when it’s late. It’d be nice heading back up there. Knee’s aren’t what they used to be though.” He pushed away from the window and his wife, looking up at the Goetia. “What time are you plannin’ on makin’ or breakin’ my daughter’s night?” he asked, voice stern.

“Tonight.” Stella replied simply.

Joe nodded. “Alright…” He turned to Lin. “You don’t mind me borrowin’ her fer the rest of the day then? It’ll lighten the work everyone needs to do. And we can finish up quicker.”

Lin shook her head. “Not at all.” She turned to Stella. “That is if yer willin’ to deal with the heat.”

“That won’t be a problem.” Stella looked back outside, seeing the plants almost wither underneath the Wrathian sun. “Mostly…” She glanced at the refrigerator and grabbed a water bottle of her own, just in case.

Joe gave her an approving nod. “I’ll see you outside.”

Stella nodded, watching as the imp left. She turned back to the kitchen where the picnic basket, blanket, and wine carrier now sat. Such humble supplies for such a momentous occasion. Her stomach twisted nervously at the sight of it.

Lin stood beside the Goetia. “It’ll be fine. Go join Joe, it’ll take yer mind off tonight.”

Stella sighed, pulling her gaze away from the dining table and made her way to the foyer. “You’re right,” she replied.

She immediately regretted stepping out of the house. Humidity, a burning sun, and lack of wind had Stella sweating before she stepped off the front porch. She was utterly miserable when she went to help Joe. She caught sight of Sallie May though, still moving carefully with her leg. The imp was busy looking over the livestock while Roy was busy elsewhere. The Goetia and imp locked eyes for a few moments as the day went on. Fleeting glimpses of shared eagerness and nervousness about the night ahead. Their duties kept them apart, not that they seemed to mind. Absence makes the heart grow fonder after all. After grueling hours under wrathian heat the sun finally became a sliver on the horizon, a bloodred eye that finally closed and beckoned the beginning of dusk. It was with a mischievous grin that Lin ushered Stella into the house to freshen up for the night ahead. Joe held the same grin when she was rushed out the door, picnic supplies in hand amidst indignant squawks from the Goetia.

“You have fun now!” Joe and Lin called out with conspiring, knowing eyes. “Sallie May should be headin’ over soon.”

With that Stella found herself staring at purple desert plains and a void full of stars. One last glimpse at the house dispelled any second thoughts. With a deep breath the Goetia turned towards the hill to prepare for a night she’ll never forget.

~~~ ~~~

Wrathian nights were oddly beautiful things. Bereft of city skylines and dreary clouds, the sky itself was a tapestry of stars and celestial bodies that glittered amidst a black void. Far to the west the last of the sun's light died in brilliant hues of violet, orange, and yellow. Further in the distance she saw active volcanoes eternally spewing fire. Balls of flame rose from scorching maws, beacons of light amidst the sea of black. The plains were an almost complete contrast to the burning mountains. Shades of deep brown and purple cast the desert in perpetual shadow, only interrupted by the gaze of a gentle moon. Stella’s gaze fell on the lone house she had slowly begun to call home. It was quaint, delightful, and humble. The second floor lights were mostly dark save for the flash of the television in the boys rooms. The living room was also lit, and she could see Joe and Lin relaxing inside. The sound of a radio wafted up even here on the hill. The barn to the side stood resolute amidst nightly wind, and Stella heard the twinkle of moving steel from the shooting range. The rest of the world couldn’t have been more serene.

The Goetia looked down at herself, heart aflutter and mind aflame with nitpicks and anxieties. She wore a tank top with daisy dukes to match and some boots that rose up to her knees. Where and how Lin got hold of the footwear Stella could only guess at. After the sweltering day the outfit was delightful despite the scandalous amount of exposed feathers. She cast her gaze down at the picnic in front of her. Atop a blanket the wine carrier lay unlocked, vintages both cheap and expensive in easy reach. The picnic basket was opened as well, although most of the food within remained untouched. Was it enough? Did she miss anything? Was she wearing enough? Not enough? Too much? What should she do when the imp came over? Why in the seven damned rings did an imp make her feel this way!? Stella grimaced as she leaned against the Acacia tree, foot tapping an anxious rhythm into the dirt.

There was a staccato tap, tap, tap that pulled Stella out of her musings. A quick look at the path up the hill showed a silhouette making its leisurely way up towards this little sliver of paradise. Stella felt her heart quicken when familiar striped horns rounded the bend, Salllie May’s familiar face poking out of the darkness.

“Nice night,” the imp said. She gave the untouched picnic a look before turning towards the Goetia. “Were you waitin’ long?”

Stella glanced at a small trench beside the tree that she had made by pacing. She quickly kicked some dirt into it, turning back to Sallie May innocently. “No,” she lied.

Sallie May’s eyes lock on the movement and a slight smile crosses her lips. She refused to say anything, gesturing to the blanket as she took a seat by the wine carrier and picnic basket. Stella sat beside her, legs stretched out atop the hill. Sallie May gave the Goetia a passing glance.

Sallie May broke the silence between them after a quick glance at the Goetia. “Nice outfit.”

Stella looked down at the revealing outfit. Dissatisfaction creased her brow, and she lightly brushed some dirt off of her modest top. “I just threw this on, really. I didn’t have anything nice to wear to such an occasion.” She belabored the fact with a despondent sigh, hand unlatching the wine carrier and pulling out a wine bottle.

She quickly uncorked it and took a sip, drowning her tongue in the taste of rich berries. She opened up the picnic basket and gestured towards it. Sallie May shook her head as Stella pulled out a cheese wedge and gave it a nibble to accent the wine’s aftertaste. Sallie May grabbed a bottle of cheap brandy and sat down beside the Goetia.

“What do you usually wear then? If that thing isn’t up to yer standards.” Sallie May asked, pointing at the modest outfit with the glass bottle in hand.

“A dress. A proper dress. Ankle length, with enough silk and lace to buy half of this fucking ring.” Stella let out a self indulgent cackle. She extended an arm, languidly stretching her fingers as the limb stretched to the heavens. “Rubies to compliment my gaze, and gold chain to pull the eyes from my stark white feathers.” She dropped her arm after a proper stretch, racing to the cheese wedge for another nibble.

Sallie May let out an impressed grunt, grabbing a pastry from the picnic basket and giving it a conservative bite. “By the sound of it you’d look stunning.” She noted between bites.

“I could buy you a dress as well, you know.” Stella gave the imp a quick look. “Black and red already looks delightful on you. Perhaps we can start with a green cocktail dress? Something to bring out your skin and your eyes.”

Sallie May laughed, shaking her head. “No way. I’ve never been one to wear all that frilly shit.” She swirled the brandy in its glass bottle before tipping the glass up to her mouth again. I mean skirts are fine, but to be honest, “I’ve been more of a suit gal.”

Stella cast her gaze on the imp. She already seemed so rough and rugged in her ripped up shirt and shorts. Dressed in a suit would certainly tame that rough look. She’d be more handsome than beautiful in such an outfit. It was a treat for the eyes all the same.

Stella hid her blush by taking another sip of wine. “Now that’s an idea…” Putting the bottle back down, she glanced up at the world overhead. A crescent moon had begun to cross the sky now. Its luminous silver light illuminating the ring. “I could buy you a few suits once I return to Pride.” 

Sallie May nodded. “Sure. Why not?”

The night began to drag on as conversation moved from topic to topic. Glass bottles rolled across the blanket, empty. The picnic basket began to lighten as the duo indulged in what was available. Farmwork always led to a large appetite, and the Wrathian heat had made them thirsty. It wasn’t long before the world was surrounded in a thin fuzzy film from heavy drink and content stomachs. Stella couldn’t keep her blush away anymore. She was so flushed a blush had gone down to her chest, feathers turning pink in the night. Sallie May held her drink only a little bit better, if her slight swaying was any indication.

Nervousness only continued to mount as the night wore on. Stella overshared when she didn’t want to, laughed aloud at jokes that were mild at best, and tried to sound profound at the rare philosophical question. She didn’t know if the sour taste in her mouth was from so much alcohol or from the shame of embarrassment. Stella grimaced at yet another fumbled sentence, drowning herself in drink once again.

Sallie May was having the time of her life though. “Ya need to lighten up darlin’. What’s the problem?” she asked after Stella embarrassed herself for the umpteenth time.

Stella slumped, feathers falling flush to her skin in embarrassment. “This is my first date…” she mumbled.

Sallie May blinked. “I’m sorry? I didn’t quite hear that.” Stella groaned and repeated what she’d said, a bit louder this time after drowning her shame in wine. Sallie May let out a cackle, turning to Stella with an incredulous expression. “I call bullshit! No way!”

Stella sputtered, feathers fluttering with rage. “It’s true!” Sallie May only laughed harder, clutching her side as she rocked with mirth. “I was betrothed to Stolas as a child. Whenever we actually saw each other it was just spent dealing with each other!” Stella growled, a sneer marring a face normally aquiline and beautiful. “Lucifer’s wings, Sallie May. Life with that man is so fucking stifling! ” Stella put down the wine bottle as soon as she realized she had emptied it. Her puffed up feathers died down, flattening down on her again. “I didn’t really have a love life. Perhaps you have more experience in that department.” The last sentence was fcynical laugh.

Sallie May turned towards a desert lit by floating balls of fire and a serene crescent moon. “Eh, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.” She began slowly, timidly. She leaned forward as she spoke, hugging her knees to her chest. “A few long term relationships that died out, or short flings that never really went anywhere.” She turned to Stella. She bridged the space between them by scooching closer, a hand wrapping around the Goetia’s with a cocky grin. “I have a good feelin’ about this though.”

Stella looked at the hand. She couldn’t have blushed harder, but her feathers puffed up in surprise anyway. Sallie May looked at the fluffed up feathers, amused, but refused to comment as Stella patted down her plumage. Stella’s mind was in a flurry. A single touch from this imp made her heart race. Damn her for making her feel like this! She should have been irate at being so out of control! But the idea of where this could go sent her heart racing. Her musings were interrupted with another question.

“So I take it you’ve at least had some ‘fun’ before, right?” Sallie May asked.

Stella rolled her eyes. “I have a seventeen year old daughter, Sallie May. Heir apparent to my husband’s line.” She let out a dissatisfied sigh. “Takes after her father a bit too much. Nothing I can do about it though.”

It was Sallie May’s time to ogle, completely off put. “Fuck! Really!? Seventeen!? Satan, girl! Did you just… Pop out an egg and be done with it!?”

Stella frowned slightly. “Yes.” She responded simply, turning to the imp who’s dumbfounded stare turned into a devious smirk. Stella couldn’t help her own smile growing.

“N-No way…” Sallie May began, her voice cracking as she tried to stop from laughing again.

“We’re birds , Sallie May! What do you mean no way!?” She tried to stay mad. She really did. She didn’t know if it was the drink, but she felt the ghost of a giggle coming along.

“S-So… Did you and Stolas have to sit on the egg to keep it warm?” Sallie May’s eyes twinkled with mirth as she pantomimed making a circle with her hands. “D-Did it have a tiny nest?”

Stella rolled her eyes and waved her hands. “No…” She murmured. But broke into her own guilty giggle. “We had the servants sit on it. And it wasn’t a nest, it was mostly blankets.”

Sallie May couldn’t stop laughing at that. “No fucking way!!!” Goetia and imp laughed long into the night, clutching their sides at childrearing absurdity.

It took a moment for the two to stop laughing, drink and food all but forgotten as they leaned on each other for support. Bellowing laughter devolved into fitful giggles, and then the occasional chuckle. They had gotten closer in the afterglow of revelry. Hips pressed together, with Sallie May’s arm wrapped around Stella’s lower back. Stella in turn draped an arm behind Sallie May to brace against. The imp leaned back gratefully, snuggling up into the crook of her arm. The night had gotten chilly so neither party complained about the newfound intimacy. The night’s breeze made the brush grass of the ranch move like waves.

“What’s Pride like?” Sallie May asked all of a sudden.

Stella looked down to hear the pop of a cork, and saw the last wine bottle opened by the imp. It was from Lilith’s Vineyard. The bottle saved for something, some one special.

“Pride is… busy.” Stella began. She nibbled on a cookie as Sallie took a swig of that delightful drink. “All the sinners, all the overlords, and all the demons packed into a ring ruled by God’s former favorite. Although I use the word ‘rule’ rather loosely.” Stella pulled away from the imp a little, those sharp horns moving dangerously close to her cheek. “For most Goetia it’s a paradise. So many regal parties and so close to the royal family. But for me it’s… Lonely. Now that I think about it.” Stella’s normally haughty and abrasive tone softened. It became introspective. “My only real friend was my brother. But the rest? Just fake smiles, Sallie May. Fake smiles from family members either jealous of my position or pitying this loveless marriage of mine.” She looked down at Sallie May. The imp was staring up at her now, all the imps attention focused on the Goetia as she laid her heart bare. “Not even a friend among the servants, nor the commoners.” she chuckled ruefully. “Although that’s my fault, with my anger.” She turned towards the house. “I never really interacted with imps. At least not until you came along.”

Sallie May blinked. She took a quick swig of wine, a flush turning her cheeks a deep maroon. “What makes me the exception?” she asked.

Stella looked at the imp for a moment. “Determined, confident, capable. Beyond stubborn. Abrasive as can be and sassy besides. But, despite it all…” Stella turned away, feeling her face heat up. “You never looked at me with indifference or fear. You cared , Sallie May.” Sallie May tapped her side, pulling the Goetia’s gaze back down to the imp. The wine vintage was held up on offer. Stella grabbed the drink and upended it into her beak.

The liquid was warm, thick, sweet, and gave the world a considerable buzz. When she pulled away it also left her wanting more. 

Sallie May leaned back against her lithe arm, a cocky grin on her face. “Yer not too bad yerself you know.”

Stella raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Do tell.” She leaned over the imp, checking if there was anything else to nibble on in the picnic basket.

Sallie May sat forward, facing the Goetia directly. “Yer like most other nobles at first glance. Haughty, a lot of pride, and enough hot air to fly a balloon. But yer one stubborn bitch .” Those last two words were emphasized with a shake of the head and a chuckle. “You don’t quit. Not even when yer out of yer element, not even when most would just give up an’ go. And…” That cocky grin of hers widened. “You look damn good doin’ it.”

Stella let out a laugh. “Oh I look delightful alright. Just… Not in this outfit.”

Sallie May raised her eyebrows. “Oh?” A lone finger lightly touched the fluffy down of her chest. A solitary touch that sent shivers up Stella’s spine. The Goetia looked down at the digit, heart pounding and breath quickening. “I reckon I could convince you otherwise…” Sallie May mused in that singsong drawl of hers as the walked two fingers up the fluff of Stella’s neck.

Stella wet her lips, beak clacking shut and opening again as she tried to make up some sort of response. She looked at the imp now. Those eyes seemed to burn brighter than Wraths sun. Piercing orbs of gold tipped with black irises twinkled like treasure in the night. Stella saw her eyes reflected in that golden light, like rubies making the centerpiece to a crown. Stella’s arm wrapped around the imps shoulders.

“Convince me.” Stella replied simply. Then felt her world erupt as Sallie May closed in.

Soft lips pressed against her beak. A toned body followed it, in complete contrast to Stella’s regal feather and fluffy down. Her breath caught, and her heart thundered a frenetic tempo to her growing passion. The world came into startling focus as a torrent of emotions exploded inside the Goetia. Soft lips. Kissed by an imp . A loving gaze. By some commoner. A grip that would never let go… By a friend… Sallie May pulled away then, chest heaving and hands braced on the Goetia’s shoulders. The crescent moon cast her in shadow, not that Stella could see much from the mess of hair that fell from the imp. More than a friend. Much more… Stella hadn’t realized she had laid back, but seeing Sallie May framed by moon and starlight was a sight she’d never forget.

“Fuck…” Stella whispered between bated breaths. “Consider me convinced,” she said with a shaky laugh.

Sallie May chuckled smugly. “Naw, I think you need a bit more convincin’.”

Stella grinned as the imp straddled her midsection. “You know what imp? I think you’re right.”

Passion and ardor erupted between the two. Love and lust burned hotter than the Wrathian sun. Worries were thrown to the side alongside pieces of clothing. Social standing became meaningless under the crescent moon and the shade of the Acacia tree. Under a veil of starlight and a nightly breeze two demons threw away upbringing, threw away expectations, spat in the face of hierarchy. That night it was just an imp who let go of obligation to teach a noble so full of rage how to love.

It was hours before the sun rose on the pair, a mess of flushed skin and stray feathers. Sallie May lay in the crook of Stella’s arm, eyes closed and breathing even. Stella in turn had a hand cupped around her cheek. There in the rising light, amidst this barren paradise, Stella couldn’t help but smile. She was content. She was happy. She never wanted to let it go.

Chapter Text

The room was cold, although she didn’t feel it. Alabaster walls gilt with gold surrounded her. She sat against cushioned seats made with the down of fluffy hide, trapped underneath a crimson skinned demon half her size. Hungry growls and stifled moans rose to her ears like some forbidden song. She didn’t know if those carnal noises came from her, or the paramour atop her. It felt like an eternity had passed underneath the hot lips and demanding touch of Sallie May, the imp running her hands through a dress half pulled down. The imp pulled away to gulp in the chilly morning air, chest heaving. Stella let out an appreciative chirp as she saw the imps toned stomach and half hidden bust peek out of her unbuttoned shirt and suit jacket. She had bought the imp that suit after bringing her up to Pride. She was right, the suit did make her look handsome. And seeing the pristine clothes so roughly undone made her look ravishing.

“See somethin’ you like?” Sallie May’s voice still held its teasing tone, although even she couldn’t hide the tremor of thinly veiled desire.

Stella grabbed her collar, pulling the imp flush against her lithe body. “Damn right I do. What are you going to do about it?”

“Oh I can think of a few things…” Sallie May muttered, one of the imps hand slowly trailing up Stella’s inner thigh. Her breath hitched as she felt those firm country girl digits glide against feather, fluff, and skin. “But I’d rather enjoy the mighty fine snack right in front of me.” That southern drawl dripped with enough lust to make Stella shudder.

Stella reciprocated the gesture, her own hands moving to roam against an imp far too clothed for her tastes. She pushed her hands underneath the opened shirt and pushed against smoldering skin and taut muscle. The imp let out a guilty shudder as feather and talon traced sensitive skin and age old scars.

Their fun was interrupted with a gasp at the entrance to the room. Both imp and Goetia turned their heads to see an open door. A child was peeking into the room, a set of pink eyes and white facial disk looking in from the hallway beyond. Her daughter had a look of surprise and fear as she caught the duo in their passionate act. Stella felt something she hadn’t in a long time. Frustration.

Stella turned to Sallie May. “Bring her to me. It seems the little one doesn’t understand the meaning of privacy.” Sallie May turned, locking eyes with the little Goetia.

Octavia turned around to run, but Sallie May was faster. She had barely made it a few paces from the door before Sallie May had her arms around the kid. Stella looked at her child with a sneer, doing her best to make herself presentable again. She pushed her arms through the sleeves of her dress, rezipping it with a grunt. A quick look in a pocket mirror showed hickeys and stains of black lipstick pop out along the white feathers of her neck. There was no more damning sign of her continuing infidelity. As if she cared about that at the moment. She touched one particularly sensitive bite with a guilty delight. Who would’ve thought that falling for an imp would be so exciting?

Besides, Stolas walked around his house with worse marks of love, fucking that vile imp of his any time he could.

Wait… What…?

Stella stopped, turning to see Sallie May pulling a struggling Octavia into the room. An imp pulling her daughter roughly up to her to be reprimanded. Her mounting rage fizzled out in a wink as she looked into her daughter's scared eyes.

“Here you go darlin’, yer little one,” Sallie May said as she stood behind Octavia and blocked any means of escape. There was a cruel glint in the imps eyes. No… Sallie May wouldn’t do that. I’ve seen her with Martin and Tom, she’d never treat a child so roughly.

“Dammit Octavia, what did I tell you about privacy?” Stella demanded. Her normally rage filled tone came out as an unsure whimper. It held none of the conviction she usually felt, none of the confidence.

“I-I’m sorry mom, it won’t happen again!” Octavia whimpered.

She got a closer look at her daughter now that she was in front of her. The young owl was dressed in a frilly pink dress patterned with white stars. A small tiara was placed against gray feathers that looked so much like her fathers. Her beak was flanked by two chubby cheeks. She would have been utterly cute had it not been for the deep wells of sorrow in her eyes. That wasn’t a gaze a child should have. There was something that accompanied the sorrow, however, something Stella was far too familiar with. Hatred.

Hatred and resentment.

“I thought I told you to stay inside your room.” Stella spoke in a tone with far more bite than she intended. Octavia looked down, shuffling her feet. She didn’t offer excuses, only hunched into herself as if preparing for a reprimand. Stella sighed and turned to Sallie May. “Bring her back to her room. Send some of the staff to play with her or something. Keep her occupied.”

Sallie May nodded wordlessly, busy buttoning up her shirt and suit jacket. Octavia let herself be led away, but as they turned towards the door the Goetia turned around. It was an accusing look. One that Stella herself had made innumerable times in her own childhood. To a father that was amorous and controlling, and a mother who drowned her sorrows in the embrace of servants. Of imps. One word echoed in her mind as Octavia and Sallie May turned to leave. 

Hypocrite.

She shot out of her small bed, blanket slick with sweat even as it slipped off her figure. The night was as quiet as it's ever been. The creak of wood and the muted billowing winds of Wrath her only company. But Octavia’s judging stare was burned into her mind's eye. She wasn’t any better than Stolas now, or her mother. Anger and rage that had fueled her for years was suddenly absent. It left her feeling hollow. She turned to an oval picture frame with Sallie May’s smiling face against the backdrop of unharvested wheat. The Goetia’s face reflected back against the glass in the low moonlight. She looked at the reflection with disgust and shame.

A word echoed in her head as she stared at the reflection. Hypocrite.

She laid down and tried to fall back asleep. Tossing and turning, she watched bleary eyed as shadows moved with the moon's exodus across the sky. All she could see was Octavia’s face. All she could feel was her own shame. The first rays of sun dawned when she stood up from her bed and dressed herself. Lin found her sitting with a bottle of wine in the living room at first light, a once regal woman tortured by fractured ideals.

~~~ ~~~

Sallie May awoke to Stella and Lin talking in front of a crackling fireplace. The Goetia cradled a wine bottle like some lost treasure. The bags under her eyes robbed her of her normally sharp glare, and her disheveled headfeathers turned her once regal appearance into a distant dream. When she spoke it wasn’t with the self assurance of a noble, but the furtive whispers of someone who had done something very wrong.

“Good mornin’ princess, had a bad night?” Sallie May gauged Stella’s reaction as she spoke. The Goetia refused to make eye contact as she nodded.

“Night terrors kept her up fer most of the night, I reckon,” Lin mused. She sat in Joe’s recliner, cradling a cup of coffee with tendrils of steam rising upward. “Tight lipped too.” The older imp stood, giving Stella a pat on the back as she made her way to the kitchen. “Well, works never done ‘round here. I’ll get breakfast set up, Sallie May. See what’s got our little birdie all shaken up.”

Sallie May gave her mother a nod as she sat down beside the Goetia. She touched Stella’s leg, her shoulder being too high for her to pat, and asked what was wrong. She frowned when Stella stiffened underneath her grasp. She smiled with bittersweet pleasure, then deflated and pouted with guilt. Sallie May once again asked her what was wrong. Stella’s beak moved, but nothing came out.

“I can’t help you if ya don’t say anything, princess.” Sallie May chided the Goetia. She never was one to talk about her feelings. But neither was Stella, if her silence was any indication. “Dammit, Stella. Was it about the night underneath the tree? If I did anything wrong I’m sorry, I’ll admit I may have read a few signals wrong but-.”
Stella shook her head violently. “No.” Her tone was hard iron, posture rigid steel. “No. That night was… That night was magical.” Stella laughed darkly, bringing the wine bottle to her lips and practically chugging down the strong drink. A blush had bloomed from her face to her neck, but it wasn’t flattering now. “I’ve just been looking at things in a new light.” That self deprecating grimace returned. Stella once again drowned her sorrow in wine.

Not sure what to do, Sallie May sat up and pat the Goetia on the shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Come on, let’s see what Lin’s cookin’ up fer us.”

Sallie May stretched out a hand to help Stella up. The Goetia gave the hand a look, then stood up on her own. Sallie May frowned but thought nothing of it. She probably just needed to sleep off whatever worried her. Nightmares and wine never mixed well together, especially if she spent the whole night awake. The duo walked together towards the kitchen to grab a bite to eat. Joe was already seated; Lin had cooked a basic breakfast of bacon, eggs, and toast. Arthur was next to head downstairs, giving Sallie May a despairing look before calling down the hall for their younger brothers to get out of bed. His call was answered with commotion from up above as Roy, Tom, and Martin shuffled down to the kitchen. Breakfast was surprisingly quiet. Joe and Lin listened intently to the radio while the younger brothers pushed away the drowsiness of the morning. It was Arthur that broached conversation first, looking at Sallie May after sampling some of the eggs Lin had made.

“How’s yer leg?” he asked, voice gruff and rumbly.

Sallie May gave the healing leg an experimental twitch. She could move it now, although she still had to use a cane to move around. It was an improvement nonetheless.

“Better.” Sallie May replied, reveling in the crunch of buttered toast.

“Good.” Arthur replied, pointing towards the truck that lay derelict in front of their house. “I was wonderin’ if you wanted to head to town today. We still got some stuff to sell from the hunt.”

Sallie May blinked in surprise, remembering the hunt. “You already processed our kills right?”

Arthur nodded. “Eeyup.”

Sallie May gave her leg another experimental twitch. As long as she didn’t do anything too wild, she should be fine. “Sure. It’d be nice to get out of the house anyhow.” Sallie May turned to Stella. “You want anythin’ from town?”

Stella shook her head, silently nibbling her food. The silence unsettled her almost as much as the turn of character, but Sallie May didn’t have long to dwell on it. Breakfast was finished sooner than she would’ve hoped, and the family started off their day with a characteristic rush. Her parents and youngest brothers tended to the field and livestock while she and Arthur hopped into the van with the spoils of the hunt a few days ago. The truck rumbled to life with the sound of the roaring engine and characteristic Wrathian country tunes from the radio. They pulled out of the house with an almost uncharacteristic melancholy. Sallie May watched the farm shrink in the rear view mirror. She saw Stella staring at the truck as it left. Sallie May quickly pulled her gaze to the front of the truck, watching the dusty road.

Sallie May realized that a lot had changed in town since she was here last. Everyone seemed armed. Pistols hung in holsters while hatchets and heavy knives sat snugly in sheathes or loops on belts. The townsfolk were grim. Demons she’d known all her lives held permanent scowls or shifting eyes as they went about their day. Most kept to themselves as they walked down the dust caked streets of The Last Respite, but a few more walked in tightly knit groups. All of the townsfolk stared warily at those that clearly didn’t belong. A shark from Greed was nervously watching those around him, clutching a suitcase close as he dipped into a nearby shop. A commotion caught her attention, and she turned to see a handful of gang members stopped in the middle of a street. They eyed the townsfolk with hostility, hands resting on weapons hidden underneath coats. They stood in front of a trio of imps and a hellhound. She saw silver stars on lapels and collars, badges of office. Deputies, meant to uphold peace and order in a ring known for the polar opposite. The gang members and deputies were going through a heated argument, but it died as soon as one of the deputies drew a mare’s leg lever action from his hip. The rough sound of drawn iron pulled the attention of all the nearby townsfolk, and one gun became twenty. Shotguns, cut down rifles, and pistols were trained at the gang in the span of a heartbeat. Sallie May didn’t see the ending to the confrontation as Arthur pulled them up in front of the Saloon.

“I’m surprised they’re still here.” Arthur grumbled as they parked in front of the Saloon.

“Why are you stoppin, here?” Sallie May asked.

“You know how much Antoine likes his venison. He’ll pay a premium for it. And we need the extra money fer repairs and ammo costs from the attack at the farm.” Arthur gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter as he spoke, grimacing as he looked out the window. “Go ahead an’ see how Antoine and Elsie’s doin’.”

Sallie May nodded and stepped out of the truck with cane in hand. She walked with an unsteady gait as she stood in front of the Saloon. Most of the front had been repaired, the giant letters atop the Saloon were painted a stark white against rich brown boards, and the windows no longer had bullet holes.

“Antoine!” Sallie May called out as she entered the Saloon.

Antoine was in front of the bar, leaning against the countertop and sharing soft laughter with Elsie. There didn’t seem to be anyone else at the Saloon. Sallie May quickly whistled to the duo, catching Antoine’s attention as she entered the bar.

Antoine looked up from polishing a beer mug. “Haven’t seen you since the hunt. How’s the farm?” he asked, his carefree smile warming the imp’s heart. “Enjoying the drink Elsie?” The hellhound beside him nodded nonchalantly.

“Could be better. The farm got hit by a pack of dogs, but family and friends handled it.” Sallie May replied.

Antoine’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Family and friends, Sal? Did you take in a new farmhand?”

Sallie May silently cursed at the slip of the tongue, but nodded. “Somethin’ like that. You know Joe an Lin aren’t gettin’ any younger.”

Elsie grabbed Antoine’s attention by playing with a now empty mug and waiting for a refill. Antoine walked behind the counter and filled the mug with a frothy brew. “Well that’s not the only big thing that’s happened.” Antoine began, giving the hellhound her mug back. “You know there’s a Goetia in town?”

Sallie May’s eyes narrowed. She walked up to the bar counter proper. “Is there now? First time I’ve heard of it.”

“She’s a pompous bitch.” Elsie growled as she sampled her newly refilled mug. “Wears so many frilly dresses she could buy the whole damn town with one of ‘em. She says she’s the one that hired the damn gang, worried about the Goetia they’re still lookin’ for.” The hellhound put the mug down on a coaster before turning to Sallie May. “At least that’s when she’s not lookin’ down at everyone here like we’re vermin.”

Sallie May raised an eyebrow as she turned back to Elsie. “Why didn’t I hear about this sooner?”

Elsie looked at the newly repaired walls. “I may have told Charles I was going to let you know but uh… Got sidetracked with the last of the repairs.”

Antoine’s lips thinned. “She burned a hole through my wallet doin’ it, too.” He put the mug under the counter and faced Sallie May directly. “On the bright side, it means the gang’s on thin ice. If they don’t produce results soon I don’t think they’ll be gettin’ a paycheck.”

Sallie May let out a low whistle.. “Well damn. Anythin’ else you can tell me about this noble?” She asked.

Elsie thought for a minute, then shrugged. “Not sure. Unless those gang members try to enter the Saloon I stay as far away from them as I can.” She hitched a thumb to Antoine. “He’s talked with her a few times though.”

Antoine nodded. “She’s a beautiful thing, if you don’t get on her bad side. Agnes Goetia, I think. White an’ pink feathers. I think she’s with Charles an’ Mayor Ox in the Boarding House right now, talking about recruiting some of the town to extend the search parties.”

Sallie May blinked. “I thought the gang was at the Boarding House.”

Antoine and Elsie both spoke at the same time, a mixture between a grumble and a growl. “They are.” Antoine elaborated while Elsie took another sip from her mug. “Seems they’ve taken so long that Agnes got pissed. You can hear the shouting all across town if you listen hard enough.” Sallie May frowned, crossing her arms and tapping her elbows as she leaned against the countertop. She was thinking.  Antoine shook his head. “No, Sallie May. Don’t do it.” She looked up to the hellhound with a grin, one that Elsie mirrored as she pat the imps back.

“You goin’ to do some recon?” Elsie asked.

Sallie May nodded. “Yep.”

Antoine let out an aggrieved whine at odds with his buff frame. Their conversation was broken when Arthur entered the Saloon.

“Hey Antoine, I got yer venison right here.” He then saw Sallie May’s twinkling eyes and Antoine’s resigned posture.

“Oh no.” Her brother growled. “I’m not droppin’ off the orders alone, Sallie May, you got shit to do here!”

Sallie May turned to Elsie. “You help my bro with the orders today, I help you with any bodies you need to hide.”

Elsie turned to look at truck outside, the both of them ignoring Arthur while he lectured his sister on silly things like responsibility. “You give me a discount on some of the meat in that truck too and you got yerself a deal. Yer lucky I’m not busy today.”

The two of them shook hands. “Deal.” Sallie May turned to Arthur with a smug grin. “Sorry bro, but I got places to be.”

The imp groaned and stalked forwards, slamming down some processed meat in front of Antoine with a grunt. The normally cordial and laid back hellhound almost started salivating, eyes wider than dinner plates as he looked at the meat. 

Arthur turned back to his sister. “Dammit Sallie May, alright. I’ll meet you back here in a bit, we don’t have that much to see anyhow. Just don’t get yerself in trouble.”

Sallie May was already at the doors, giving her brother a conspiratorial wink. “No promises.”

As she left she heard her brother calling once more. “Don’t do anythin’ to screw up that leg of yers either!”

~~~ ~~~

The going was slow, having to weave through the crowds of the town with a cane and a limp. The tap of the cane's rubber sole against dust-caked streets was her only companion. She didn’t mind, though. The Saloon, the Sinner’s Kiss, and the Trident of Pain were all in close distance to the Boarding House after all. The Boarding House was a simple thing when she looked at it. A two story building of sun blasted brick and chipped crimson paint. It was called something else, once, the letters of some old name vaguely outlined against new layers of paint. But everyone called it the Boarding House now. The double doors to the entrance leaned against each other, hinges screeching in protest as she pushed them open. She stepped inside to see most of the foyer had been trashed. Whiskey bottles mixed with spent brass cartridges and the wood splinters of broken furniture. The only thing that didn’t seem broken was a staircase leading to the second floor beside the front desk.

She was surprised to see a familiar hellhound at the front desk. A hellhound wearing the characteristic coat of the gang, although it seemed much too big for him. He was sickeningly thin, wiry muscle almost primed to run away at a moment’s notice. Predatory eyes that belied a deadly cunning locked on her as soon as she entered.

“Barnabas.” Sallie May said curtly.

The hellhound was silent for a moment, drumming idly on the desk's countertop. “Sallie May, was it? What brings you here?” Barnabas didn’t sound amused.

Sallie May walked with an impressive amount of swagger despite being limited by a cane and healing leg. She sauntered towards the front desk, cocky smile trained on the hellhound. She looked at him quickly to determine what exactly she was dealing with. He didn’t seem armed, but that coat may be too big for a reason. A quick look around the rest of the foyer showed that they were the only two in the room.

“Where’s the rest of yer gang?” Sallie May asked.

Barnabas’ lips thinned for a moment as he thought about how to respond. “Out searching for a noble.” He responded curtly.

“What makes you think she isn’t dead? It’s been a few weeks since the search started.” Sallie May mused, leaning against the railing of the staircase. She idly picked her nails as she looked up at the hellhound. “Seems to me like yer not that good at searchin’.”

Barnabas’s lips curled, but he was able to keep himself from growling. “No body. No tracks. Nobody’s lost any horses, and there aren't any proper cars to purchase in this damn town. Either she’s somewhere in the plains and mountains, which I doubt, or…” Barnabas stared daggers at the imp as he emphasized his last words. “She’s being protected by someone.” 

Sallie May huffed. “Makes yer job harder then. I doubt people’ll take kindly to ya askin’ to search their homes.”

Barnabas nodded. “My thoughts exactly. But you’re not here to ask for news about the search. Why are you here?”

Sallie May tilted her head to the stairs, horns pointed up to the second floor. “Word ‘round town says that yer employer’s here. She’s not too happy about how long it’s takin’ to find her kin.”

Barnabas let out a deep breath. “That’s old news. Mayor Ox and Sheriff Charles are speaking with her right now. And asked not to be disturbed.” He added the last part hastily.

Sallie May looked up at the staircase, then back down at Barnabas. “Of course. It wouldn’t be right if I just barged in there…” She raised her hands in a mollifying gesture. “I was just curious. We rarely see nobles like the city-folk in Pride. Only one comes ‘round every year fer the Harvest Moon Festival.”

Barnabas’s piercing stare didn’t change. “Well, if you don’t need anything else , I suggest you leave. I doubt my constituents would be as friendly as I am considering what happened at the farmers market,” Barnabas said.

Sallie May pushed off of the staircases railing with a nod. She knew a request to leave when she heard it, no matter how polite the message and thinly veiled the threat. She hobbled out of doors that screamed protest when she opened them, finding herself once more blasted by Wrath’s characteristic heat. She began walking down the street, eyes locked on the front of the Boarding House. She turned a corner between two storefronts. As soon as she was safe from prying eyes she ducked into the thin alleyways between buildings. She weaved through the alleyways quickly, finding herself in front of the Boarding House’s fire escape.

It seemed like the gang had sullied even this part of the building, loose needles and broken wine bottles cracked at the side of the building or thrown discarded on the ground. Sallie May sneered in disgust before shifting her attention to the fire escape’s ladder. It led up to the second floor where a staircase granted access to the attic and roof. The ladder itself was held up by a hook with a lock so rusty it may as well have been worthless. Sallie May rolled her eyes and hopped onto a nearby trash container. Cane in hand, she jumped and grabbed one of the rungs with the cane handle. It was a quick matter of taking her time and hopping up the rungs until she hoisted herself over the railing of the fire escape, setting down on a gridiron platform and glancing in one of the windows to one of the rooms of the Boarding House. She pulled out a switchblade and fiddled with the lock, seeing the latch rise. With a grin she slipped inside.

The room was quiet. Dirty clothes, spare weapons and ammo, and loose bottles of alcohol littered the table and bed both. She ignored it all as she slipped into the main hallway. A thick carpet blanketed her limping steps as she listened for the noble. High pitched screaming was heard at the end of the hall. It wasn’t hard to follow. She tiptoed to a door that was open just a crack and looked inside.

Sallie May blinked in surprise when she saw the noble. The Goetia was almost identical to Stella, if not a bit older. Their taste in clothing was different, though. A satin dress of black dotted with starlight motifs. It only made her white and feathers seem to pop further. A high collar and low neckline was accentuated with a brooch fitted with a twinkling ruby. She dwarfed the seat given to her, with a stiff back and carved with flowery designs on the legs. Taken from the Sinner’s Kiss, no doubt. The noble rubbed the expensive jewel as she spoke to two others in the room. Sallie May turned her head to see the portly Mayor Ox and stern Sheriff Charles sitting in much more mundane chairs.

“So, let me make this clear…” The Goetia growled, talons cutting into the chair and ruining the armrests. “Not only have you refused to help the search for my daughter, you’ve also impeded the search with your town’s antics. Is that right!?”

Charles was thumbing his own badge of office, golden glare meeting the Goetia stare for stare. “We have cooperated as much as we can, your highness.” Charles began with a tone that hinted at a patience weathered thin. “It isn’t my fault that not only have your search teams not found suitable results, but they’re more intent on terrorizin’ the townsfolk than doin’ their Satan damn job. I reckon the failure of this search lies in Will and his band of thugs, rather than any problems on our part.”

The Goetia’s eyes turned to pinpricks, rage filling her as talons extended and splintered wood. Before she could respond, Ox rose from the chair to grab something out of sight. When he returned he clutched a wine bottle. The mayor filled a cup before extending a trembling hand towards the Goetia. She stared at the cup with a sneer before grabbing the whole bottle instead.

“My sheriff stepped out of line, I apologize Miss Agnes.” Ox wrung his hands as he spoke, sweat soaking a collar already damp and discolored.

Agnes huffed, taking a swig of the wine bottle. “Your highness will also suffice. Imps like you don’t deserve to have my name grace your lips.” Ox babbled an apology that Agnes didn’t quite hear. She put the wine bottle down where it clinked on another bottle. Sallie May saw more bottles pooling at the side of the chair. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’ll give the gang permission to search through your houses, leaving no stone unturned until I have my daughter delivered back to me. Anyone suspicious will be interrogated. Are we done here?” Agnes asked.

Charles’s eyes narrowed. “The town isn’t goin’ to like that. Word will spread, you know.”

Agnes laughed. “Like I fucking care. I intend on leaving this shithole as soon as I find my daughter. Or maybe I’ll buy this cesspit and replace it with something worthwhile. A casino, maybe. I’m not sure yet.” Agnes dipped her head back to drink her wine before standing up. She tossed the now empty bottle away, turning towards the door. “We’re done here. I make it a point to keep from interacting with the poor as much as I can.”

Sallie May cursed, hobbling back towards her exit. She had heard enough, and by the sound of it so did Agnes. She tiptoed back to the room with the fire escape, but as she opened the door she saw Barnabas walking up the stairs to check on the meeting. The two locked eyes for a heartbeat before the hellhound shouted in alarm. Doors opened across the hall as a skeleton crew of thugs entered the hall to see what the commotion was about. Adrenaline began to pump in her head as she sprinted back towards the fire escape. She jumped from the fire escape to slam against the trash container underneath. Pain flared in her leg as she scrambled away.

Hobbling out of the small alleyway, she quickly disappeared into the crowd of townsfolk in front of the Boarding House. The doors opened up moments later, Barnabas and a handful of thugs looking into the crowd and trying to spot her. Barnabas let out a frustrated cry, pointing in different directions and giving commands to the gaggle of imps and hellhounds at his beck and call. By their hobbles and half interested nods, they seemed either too tired or too drunk to be a problem. Sallie May didn’t care though. With a bad leg and no real weapons on her even a drunk demon could fill her stomach with buckshot. She blended into the crowd well enough, keeping her head down and sticking to the busier streets. The thugs that tried to find her evaded the busier parts of town when they saw the none too friendly stares the locals gave them. The smarter thugs moved in groups, clutching weapons as they tried to shrug off hangovers or fatigue.

Sallie May entered the Saloon to see Arthur nursing some whiskey with Elsie and Antoine. The three of them were laughing as they leaned against the countertop. A quick look at the truck showed that everything that had been brought from the farm had been sold already, much to her surprise.

“You already sold everything?” she asked.

Arthur glanced at the truck outside with a shrug. “Wasn’t much to sell to begin with, but souls are souls.”

Elsie barked with laughter. “Damn good payout fer barely any work, I’ll take it.” She turned to Antoine with a grin.

Sallie May gave the hellhound a half smile before turning to Arthur. “We gotta go. Now.” She growled.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “What did ya do this time!?” He demanded.

Sallie May shook her head. “Probably pissed off the gang next door, I’ll explain in the truck.” She turned to Antoine and Elsie. “If anyone asks, we weren’t here.”

Antoine gave her an exaggerated salute. “My lips are sealed. I’ll tell the other shop owners too, don’t worry. We take care of our own.”

She gave him a grateful smile before turning back to Arthur. He was already moving, downing the contents of one final shot glass before hopping off of his barstool.

“We’ll catch up later Antoine. Gotta make sure my sister’s brains don’t paint the curb in the next few minutes.”

Sallie May hobbled her way towards the truck, pulling herself into the passenger seat just as Arthur hopped in and pushed the key into the ignition. The truck sped down the road, leaving behind a town on the brink of violence. The sound of the radio almost dwarfed Arthur grinding his teeth as they passed the Boarding House. Arthur looked in surprise as a Goetia looked at them at eye level. A Goetia that looked just like the one they harbored back home.

~~~ ~~~

Arthur’s shouts had turned into an almost silent simmer. Reprimands meant little to Sallie May, all her thoughts focused on the Goetia back at their ranch. After telling her brother about what she had done to listen in on the conversation between the new Goetia, the mayor, and the sheriff, he couldn’t help but shake his head in dismay. His words rang hollowly through her head as he shouted, but her attention elsewhere. That was the woman that was looking for Stella? She didn’t seem like the type to care for anyone, not even family. Her mind fell back to when she first met Stella. A noble that looked like they had stepped out of their palace and into the nightmare. A delirious woman clutching on to life with a vice-like grip. Why did this Agnes so desperately want to get ahold of Stella? She hadn’t realized they’d pulled into the front of the house until Arthur killed the engine.

The setting sun cast its harsh gaze on the front of the house. They saw Joe and Lin in the kitchen, cooking up dinner as the three younger brothers busied themselves with herding livestock back in the barn or closing everything up for the night. Stella was in the house, clutching a water bottle and staring forlornly out the living room window. Their eyes met for a moment. Sallie May had never seen such profound sorrow and guilt in the noble’s gaze before. 

Stella broke eye contact first, ashamed.

“You know you’ll need to tell her that her mother’s here. And knowin’ Goetian politics, it’s not a far cry that she ordered the hit on her in the first place.” Arthur mumbled as he hopped out of the truck.

“She looks like she’s goin’ through somethin’ right now. It may be best to wait.” Sallie May warned as she got out of the truck too.

Arthur turned to his sister with a stern expression. “Come on, sis. You know that’s not how we do things here. Yer goin’ soft on her. Tell her, rip the bandaid off now.”

Before Sallie May could object Arthur locked the truck and walked up the steps to the front porch, opening the front door. Sallie May could smell her parent’s cooking as she joined her brother. She wanted to feel happy to be home, eager to get a bite to eat, and light-hearted enough to share a joke or two with her family and Stella. But all she could feel was a cold dread spreading its icy tendrils through her heart. 

Arthur hopped inside and greeted Joe and Lin with the usual rough bravado of any Wrathian family. Sallie May was much more subdued, giving her parents a weak wave before turning to Stella. The Goetia had retreated to the couch. She stared at an unlit fireplace, hand idly twirling a piece of loose string on her jeans. She didn’t look up to Sallie May as the imp drew closer, almost as if she were ignoring her intentionally.

“Stella?” Sallie May’s voice was a squeak in her own ears, but it may as well have been a bellow. Stella flinched when she heard her name. “Can we talk? Privately?”

Stella didn’t respond at first. She stared at the ash caked hearth as if she heard nothing. Sallie May was about to repeat the question when Stella sighed and leaned forward, head cupped in her hands. She nodded silently to the imp.

“Meet me in my room after dinner?” Her normally commanding tone came out in a timid whisper.

“Sure.” Sallie May replied.

Stella smiled wanly as she straightened up. She looked sidelong at the imp. The second time they had made eye contact once they got back, but it was gone in moments. Arthur called out from the kitchen to say that most of the food was ready. Roy, Tom, and Martin ran inside before long. Stella and Sallie May sat beside each other at dinner, as was custom at this point. But there was a barrier between them. Things left unsaid that had piled up from almost nowhere, things unresolved that made their interactions at the table icy and distant at best. It was obvious enough for the rest of the family to catch on. They chose to ignore it. Stubbornness was a hallmark of Wrath, and they were no different. Dinner went by agonizingly slowly as a result. Stella was the first to leave, excusing herself after a few bites of food. She left the table with a smile and a wave that everyone knew was fake. Sallie May left much later after helping Lin collect all the dishes and utensils.

Sallie May saw a single flickering light in Stella’s room when she made her way up the stairs. When she looked into the room she was surprised to see it utterly immaculate. Almost spartan with the lack of ornamentation inside. Everything was neat. From the lamp at the center of the bedside table, to the handful of small pictures on the drawers. The only things amiss was the holstered revolver and ammo bandolier hanging at the edge of the bed. There was something metallic that caught her attention. A crown of gold, tarnished and dusty on the bed. Blood caked its side, crusted and gray as if it hadn’t been cleaned. Three points rose like spires from the top of the crown, the central spire largest of all. Sallie May hadn’t realized Stella kept the gaudy headdress. Stella idly toyed with the crown, finger pressed on the point of the tallest spike and turned it around on the beds' freshly folded linens. She sat beside the crown, beak pressed shut and lips puffed into an uncertain pout.

“You said you had something you wanted to tell me?” Stella asked.

Sallie May nodded, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her. “Has Lin told you about any news in town?” she asked.

Stella sighed. “I’ve heard the gang’s started to look for me again. They don’t know when to quit.”

“That’s because their employer’s come to town, Stella. It’s a Goetia.”

Stella froze, crown poised on its edge as her head whipped around to stare at Sallie May. “Who is it?” She didn’t raise her voice, but it dripped with venom and a rising panic that made Sallie May’s breath hitch.

“Agnes. Yer mother.”

Stella’s hand trembled, letting go of the crown. It rolled out of her grasp to clatter on the floor with a metallic ring. Neither imp or Goetia noticed. Stella took a deep breath, slowly clasping her hands. Sallie May realized the Goetia was shaking. She took a step forward, hand outstretched to comfort the noble.

“Thanks for telling me, Sallie May. I think I need to be alone right now. I need time to think.” Stella whispered.

Sallie May nodded. “Of course princess… I’ll be around if you need me.”

She felt her former lovers stare on her back as she left and closed the door.

Chapter Text

Stella sat in front of her bed, staring at two fine crafted pieces of metal. Her old crown was still breathtakingly beautiful despite the dried blood. It was solid gold beaten into a thin band, intricate filigree and carvings adorning its surface. She picked it up and felt its weight. The crown itself was light, but the duties and responsibilities it represented were heavier than a mountain. Duties of administration, power, and might. Responsibilities and expectations of family. She put the crown down and looked at the second object on her bed.

The revolver beside her was equal parts brutal and beautiful. A dangerous blend of black iron and silver accents. Despite the uncharacteristic artistic flair, the weapon was still utilitarian. It felt robust in her grip. A heavy and lethal thing of beauty. It reminded her of where she’d found herself living these last few weeks. Rough, but holding its own rustic charm.

And as free as the wings on its side could allow.

But it was a forbidden freedom. The trappings of a simpler life she simply couldn’t hold.

“... Stella!” Sallie May’s voice rose behind her like a siren song.

Stella turned to see the imp leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and foot tapping an agitated rhythm into the wood floorboard. “Come on, we’ve got work to do today.”

“Of course. I’ll be down in a bit.” Stella’s voice rang hollow, with none of the fire of it used to hold.

She left both objects on the bed as she stood up. Two items that couldn’t be more different. A badge of office and a tool. A circlet of gold, and a rigid weapon of iron and silver. A symbol of duty, and a symbol of freedom. Stella closed the door and followed Sallie May downstairs.

She saw the piano first. Instantly remembering simpler times amidst dulcet tones and the soft patter of rain, she couldn’t but smile at nights long gone. Breakfast was ready, steaming food on plates on a table surrounded by a family of laughter and love. She ate silently as she watched the imps. The eagerness of the youngest brothers was broken up only by the half hearted reprimands of parents and older siblings. Her worried thoughts became little more than a dull buzz in the back of her head as she joined the family for a good meal. The pleasant moment ended in a blink.

She opened the front door to be hit by characteristic Wrathian heat and howling winds. Joe’s crops had begun to take root, young stalks sprouting from the ground despite the desolation around them. A sign of hope and tender care amidst a cruel sun. Stella’s eyes looked at the ranch in a new light. Wherever she looked she saw memories. The fence at the far end of the ranch had her swelling with pride, one of her first projects on the farm. Clotheslines that she and Lin had tended to together when she was healing from an angelic bullet. Behind the barn where she first fired her revolver. The tree where she had finally felt her passions with Sallie May swell… It was in the middle of taking care of the livestock that Sallie May pulled her attention back to the present.

“Stella! Ya don’t mind herdin’ the calves back here?” Sallie May called out.

Stella blinked. “Huh?”

Sallie May pointed towards a handful of young cows trotting away to sate their curiosity. They had strayed from the herd and were dangerously close to the fence close to the northern hills. This normally wouldn’t be an issue, but after the raid the family wasn’t taking any chances with their livestock.

“I’ll get them,” Stella said as she pushed off of the fence.

In a flash of startling white feathers she had traveled the wide expanse of plains between her and the calves. Her demonic form carried her forwards with a lethal beauty and an intoxicating delight. She flaunted her demon form whenever she could, and probably when she shouldn’t. It felt so good to have so much power at her fingertips again. When she landed in front of the calves, the poor animals let out frightful bellows as they trotted back to the herd. Some of the herd stared at Stella with annoyed glares at having spooked their young. Most of them simply ignored the commotion, grazing on whatever blades of grass they could find.

Stella saw Sallie May near the barn where the rest of the herd lounged around. She leaned against the barn and idly cleaned her nails with a knife, her glare focused on the Goetia. Stella sighed and started walking towards the imp, refraining from using her demonic form again so soon. She was walking up the hill towards the Barn when Sallie May pushed herself off the side of the barn to join her. 

“What’s eatin’ you up princess? You’ve been out of it fer the last few days. Nobody’s really sayin’ it, but some of us are kinda startin’ to get worried.” The imp’s tone brooked no argument, no skirting around the issue.

Stella stubbornly held on to suffering alone, waving her hand dismissively. “Nothing’s wrong, Sallie May. It’s fine.”

Sallie May rolled her eyes. “That’s bullshit, Stella. And you know it.” The imp pinched the bridge of her nose, annoyance warring with her attempts at understanding. “It’s definitely not about us, it’s somethin’ else… Is it about yer mother?” she asked. Stella winced at that. Something that Sallie May immediately caught. “Stella, she doesn’t know yer here. I-”

“Not yet, but it won't take long until she finds out.” Stella sighed, avoiding making eye contact. “Fuck I really have ended up like her…” 

Sallie May raised an eyebrow. “Now hold on. You may be a bit prissy, sure, but yer not half as much of a piece of shit as yer mother.”

“I was being polite, Sallie May. It wouldn’t do to insult people I was relying on for survival.” Stella chuckled when she saw Sallie May’s unconvinced stare. “And you’ve grown on me, no matter how much I deny it.” Her expression darkened, though. “But that doesn’t change anything. We’re more alike than you know…”

Sallie May rolled her eyes. “How so?” 

She turned her head towards the shooting range behind the barn. “I sent someone to kill my husband, for one.” Better to admit to attempted murder than infidelity with a demon of lower class.

Sallie May blinked. “What…?”

“Kill him, take his wealth, live a life of luxury for the rest of my days.” Stella crossed her arms, her shame plain as day. “It’s not like this is the first time my family’s done it. I don’t even know if the hit was successful or not. I got attacked on my way back to Pride after a trade deal, I was supposed to get an update after getting back.” Stella looked up to Sallie May. “Then I got saved by you.” Sallie May watched her with growing reproach and less patience. “Dammit Sallie May, I didn’t just get saved by a commoner. I fell in love with you, made love to you. Like I’m some two cent whore in Lust! Just like that cheating husband of mine, just like my mother…”

Sallie May blinked in confusion. “What’s it matter if yer mother did the same thing? It’s not like any of ‘em know.” Sallie May growled.

Stella’s eyes narrowed at the imp. “What’s it matter? Because hierarchy is everything to my family. What can you do, Sallie May? What can you do against my family? Indulge me.”

The imp began to pace, head tilted in consternation. It was a while before she spoke. “I could-”

Stella took a step forward, pushing a finger against Sallie May’s chest. “Nothing! Sallie May, you can do nothing !!! Not against her. That woman killed the servants she fucked because of the possibility that they would tell the rest of the aristocracy! She stole what wealth my father had before kicking him to the side, and she’s doing the same to me!” Her voice trembled as she spoke. She didn’t know if it was because of trepidation or fear. “My family doesn’t like mistakes, Sallie May. If they knew what I did they would bury this whole ranch to keep word from spreading.”

Sallie May pushed the hand away, indignation writ on her face. “I’m not some city bitch to push around, Stella! You know that! I may not be able to take out yer mother, but I can sure as hell kill that gang of hers!”

Stella grabbed her shoulders, staring into Sallie May’s eyes. “And then what!? She’ll just pay for more people to hunt me down. People that are stronger, faster, better at killing than you are! And she will target your family too!”

Sallie May placed her hands on the Goetia’s, staring her down. “So what am I supposed to do, just crawl into a hole an’ hide? That’s not how we deal with problems in Wrath, princess! We face em head fuckin on!!!”

Stella shook her head. “Not this problem.”

“Why not!”

“Because I can’t lose you too!” Stella shouted. She blinked in surprise when she felt her eyes become hot with tears. She pressed her wrist against eyes to wipe away her frustrated tears. “I’ve lost everything, Sallie May. My titles, my holdings, even my damn family. I can’t get to anything in this ring, and now Agnes is coming to finish what she started. I can’t… I can’t lose you too…”
Sallie May sneered. “Then command me. Command me like some commoner. Look me in the eye an’ tell me you want me to hide like some damn coward.”

Stella looked at Sallie May’s face. A hard face. The imp had balled her fists, staring the Goetia down to save her hurt pride. Stella saw her own reflection in that golden gaze. Disheveled headfeathers cast a shroud of white over her shoulders, and hot tears cut deep furrows into once rosy cheeks. Her mouth worked as she tried to say the command. Tried to tell the demon she’d come to love to ‘ stay away! ’ But no matter how much she tried, the words kept getting stuck in her throat. Sallie May’s judging glare only worsened the Goetia’s shame. There was one final attempt to summon the will to command. To say a mere handful of words. But in the end Stella hung her head in defeat.

Sallie May stepped away from her. “That’s what I thought. How can you even fight yer own mother if you can’t even tell me what to do?”

They were both interrupted by Sallie May’s phone vibrating in her pocket. The imp frowned, pulling out her phone to see it getting utterly blown up by messages. Anger was replaced with worry, and she quickly opened up her phone to read the messages. While she did Stella took the brief respite to try and hide her shame. She wiped away tears, collected herself, and straightened her clothing. A shout of alarm came from the house. Both Stella and Sallie May turned to see Lin running out of the house towards Joe, who was busy working the fields with Arthur. Husband and wife exchanged a few words, but as soon as they finished the two imps grabbed their tools and sprinted into the house. Stella frowned, suddenly realizing that Roy and Martin were gone from the chicken coop and the clotheslines. Lin had sprinted up to the barn as fast as she could, alarm in her eyes. She gave Stella’s disheveled appearance the barest glance before turning to Sallie May.

“Did you get the messages?” she asked.

Sallie May nodded. “Yep. Gangs tryin’ to break into houses now. Most of the attacks have been repelled, but they got lucky in a few farms down South…”

Lin growled. “Fuck, I heard they’ve hit some farms east of town too.”

Sallie May was already pushing the herd back into the barn. “They’re goin’ to be comin’ here soon. The families that were hit aren’t far.”

Lin nodded. “My thought’s exactly. Yer brothers are already gettin’ ready.” She turned to Stella. “I know you did great durin’ the raid, but I need you to hide.” Lin commanded.

Stella balked. “W- Hide? How many of them are comin’ over?”

Sallie May shrugged as she pushed the last of the cattle into the barn, closing the doors and locking it. “Enough to worry, but not more than we can handle.” She glanced back to Stella for a moment. Worry overriding everything else. “Ma’s right, princess. Hide in the cellar. They won’t find you down there.”

Stella moved to protest, but the two imps had already begun jogging back down to the house. In the distance Stella saw plumes of dust rising from the main road. And even further back she saw pillars of smoke rising to the sky. Biting back a curse, she jogged down the hill and followed the two imps as they ran to arm themselves.

~~~ ~~~

“Whatever you do, don’t open these doors.” Sallie May said before leaving Stella in darkness.

Rays of light peaked out of the cracks between the cellar doors, but it failed to illuminate the room proper. The cellar was full of loose items acquired from untold years living in Wrath. Forgotten cleaning supplies lined shelves alongside boxes holding a number of different odds and ends, and rusted tools and weapons hung or leaned against dust covered walls. What little else she could see disappeared in darkness as Sallie May and Lin locked her in the cellar. She heard the distinct click of the lock and the rattling of the cellar doors before they left and prepared for Will and his gang.

A now familiar weight rested on her hip. Her revolver sat in its holster, the bandolier of bullets glinting in the light alongside the weapons metal frame and polished grip. It was a small comfort having the weapon by her side. But the reason why she was carrying it filled her with a sense of permanent unease.

She wasn’t able to dwell on her armament long when she heard the sound of vehicles parking at the front of the house. She counted more than three vehicles before the cacophony of noise made listening pointless.

“Will, was it? To what do I owe the pleasure?” Joe’s voice carried loud and clear in the Wrathian wind.

“This visit’s pure business, I’m afraid.” Will responded. “You wouldn’t mind us taking a look inside your house? Impolite, I know, but my employer’s become a bit impatient.”

It was Lin’s turn to respond. Her tone was wary, but not hostile. “You’ve already looked ‘round our property before, Will. has somethin’ changed?”

Shadows moved around the cellar, and Stella squeaked as she saw a hellhound moving towards the cellar. Her breath hitched in her throat as she slowly pulled away from the cellar doors, the wood underneath her groaning under her weight. Time seemed to stand still as the shadow stared at the cellar doors. She heard inquisitive sniffing before the shadow left, heading towards the barn.

“I’ve heard you’ve gone to a few other houses today, Will. My neighbors are none too happy with the treatment.” Joe spoke idly, but Stella heard the edge in his voice.

Will let out a sigh. “Some of your neighbors were cooperative, Joe. Others weren’t. I have a job to do, but this doesn’t have to get bloody. All I need to do is take a look around your house. Shouldn’t be a problem. Unless you’ve got something to hide?”

Joe laughed. There was the sound of footsteps. Stella’s heart sank when she heard Sallie May’s voice join that of her father’s.

“Will, what brings ya here now?”

“Ah, Sallie May… Shit, I forgot you lived here…” Will grumbled. “I’m just lookin’ for my lost Goetia. White feathers, pink accents. Kind of like Agnes, except a bit younger. I take it you got a good enough look when you were snooping around the Boarding House the other day?”

Sallie May chuckled. “That I did. Agnes is quite a looker, if she wasn’t busy bein’ such a bitch. Can’t say that I’ve seen anyone like her ‘round here though.”

The hellhound's shadow returned, standing in front of the cellar door. Stella jumped back in surprise. The hellhound was a lithe thing, almost skin and bones if it wasn’t for the oversized coat he wore. Those crimson eyes were those of a predator, forever searching. He gripped something in his hand. Something that caused Stella to start panicking. It was a white feather. Blinding white and tipped with pink.

“Barnabas, what are you doing over there?” Will shouted.

“Found you…” Barnabas whispered at the cellar doors before standing up. “Got a souvenir for you, boss.”

“What did you… Find…” Silence reigned as Barnabas held up the feather. Will sighed. “You know Sallie May, Joe, there’s very few things I hate. I hate cowards, for one. What’s the point of getting into a fight if you’re just going to run? I hate people that don’t pay when a job’s done, things can get messy then. But do you know what I hate the most? Liars.” He snapped his fingers, and at that Stella heard the flutter of coats and a sea of guns being racked and chambered. “But liars still bleed like the rest. Kill everyone here and pull the Goetia out of whatever hole she’s hidin’ in. Barnabas, grab the blessed rope.”

Stella squeaked as thunderous gunfire deafened her and the world in front of the cellar was blinded by muzzle flash. She stumbled away from the doors, and just in time too. Buckshot blew apart the door handle and lock, and a trio of hellhounds stormed inside. Two hellhounds stared down at her with tightfitting coats and pump action shotguns, but the third was Barnabas. The stringy hellhound held some blinding white rope in his hands.

“You’ve caused us a lot of trouble, princess. But that’s all over now, more or less.” Barnabas was grinning from ear to ear, a cruel glint in his eye.

The two hellhounds at his side crumpled as they were shot, and Barnabas leapt to the side in a flash. He dashed away as gunfire from a window above peppered the dirt. Stella hadn’t realized her pistol was in her hand until the hammer clicked on an empty chamber. Most of her shots had gone wide, but she had clipped Barnabas in the side as he ran away. Stella stumbled out of the cellar to see the carnage around her. A handful of trucks were parked at the front of the farm. Demons huddled behind the vehicles for cover, or stupidly ran forward with melee implements. Considering the pile of thrashing bodies on the ground, they weren’t doing that good a job of pushing into the house. A spray of hot burning hot brass dropped in front of her, and she looked up to see Roy and Tom operating a machine gun from their room window. Tom held an almost comically long link of ammunition while Roy fired in quick bursts. Tom saw Stella below and quickly waved a hand, pointing back down to the cellar.

“Keep yer head down Stella! Thing’s are gettin’ a bit wild out here!” As if to emphasize his point Roy fired a short fusillade of shots into an incoming truck, the vehicle skidding to a halt at the front of the ranch as its engine block began to smoke.

Return fire had the duo ducking their heads, gunfire ripping apart the window blinds and showering glass below. Stella turned her head to see two imps with machine pistols firing at the side of the house. They fell dead as two shots turned their chests into bloody ruins. Arthur was atop the roof with his rifle, the sleek black weapon glinting dully in the Wrathian sun as he aimed at yet another target. Roy let the machine gun rip again now that they were no longer suppressed.

She ducked back into the cellar, screaming in panic as bullets whizzed where her head was moments before. She felt the bullets displace the air around her, like steel rods missing her head by an inch. The strong whip crack of bullets and displaced air was a grim reminder to keep her head down. She popped open the cylinder of her revolver and scattered spent brass onto the dusty floor. Pulling bullets out of the bandolier on her hips was a tricky affair with shaky hands, but she managed. As she reloaded her pistol she saw a glint of metal in the back of the cellar. A bear trap lay derelict on the floor, a stray chain still attached.

She grabbed it, heartbeat racing as she slowly peaked back out of the cellar. She saw Joe, Lin, and Sallie May fighting at the front of the house. Joe and Lin turned slaughter into an artform, Joe cutting with his bowie knife and Lin chopping with a savage double headed axe. Sallie May moved with an awkwardness, favoring her uninjured leg, but fought like a berserker nonetheless. Paired with a knuckle knife and machine pistol, anyone that came close was savagely taken out by blade, bullet, and bludgeon.

Sallie May pulled out the blade of her knuckle knife from an imps chest just to break the jaw of another with a punch, a quick burst of gunfire leaving him a twitching wreck. Another quick burst from the pistol took out a duo of hellhounds that were about to jump Lin from behind. She stood atop the front porch as the last line of defense, a final bulwark for hearth and home. When she saw Stella out of the cellar, her eyes goggled.

“Stella!? I thought I told you to stay in the cellar! Go back down it’s not safe o-” Sallie May staggered in surprise, dropping the machine pistol to the ground.

Her tattered shirt and crimson skin suddenly seemed to gush deep furrows of black blood. Stella’s eyes widened when she saw Will a few paces away, his revolver flashing brightly as he fired round after round into the country imps side.  Will’s eyes turned to lock with Stella. There was shock, at first, then a perverse delight. He pulled something out of his coat, a bullet of the blackest metal with blinding white script. An angelic bullet.

He popped the round into the cylinder of his revolver, pointing the weapon at Sallie May as she bled out on the porch.

She only heard her thundering heartbeat as she burst out of the cellar, blinding white feathers leaving a blinding trail as she closed the distance between her and Will. Will looked up in surprise, switching targets and firing in her direction. She dodged the angelic bullet easily, winding her arm back to tear the imp apart. Will cursed and threw a hellhound in front of the Goetia. The gang member fired his shotgun in a panic. Stella ignored the buckshot, slamming her hand against the hellhound’s face. She felt brief surprise in her rage when she realized she’d hit him with the bear trap, the hellhound slumping to the ground as the metal jaws closed on his head.

Neat.

Will was sprinting back to one of the many trucks parked at the front of the house. She fired off a trio of shots, one of them hitting him in the back. He let out a gasp of pain as he pulled a door open. Barnabas was in the driver’s seat, blessed rope at his side. He gave Stella one last glance before revving the engine and driving Will to safety. Stella moved to pursue, but a handful of imps began firing on her with their guns. In her frustration she fired her revolver and cut with extended talons. She painted the front of the house black as she dove into the crowd of demons in front of her.

Everything else became a rage filled blur. Screams of pain and panic mixed with her own howling fury like some distorted cacophony. The air smelled of gunsmoke and blood, potent  enough to make her sick. She barely registered her savage butchery in her rage. Through the red haze burning through her mind she only saw Sallie May’s demise on repeat. Watched as delightful crimson skin was covered in sickly black.

“They’re dead, Stella! They’re already dead! Stella!!!” Joe’s shouting seemed to echo dimly in her head, but it pulled her back into the present.

The surrounding trucks that hadn’t been shot apart by Roy’s machine gun she had torn apart herself. Bestial talon marks had turned the trucks into metallic scrap, most of them caked with black blood and strips of ripped cloth. Of the rest of the gang, there was no more than a grisly sight. The bodies had been butchered, cut and torn into until there was nothing left but a mangled ruin. It took a lot of willpower for Stella to keep from vomiting at the sight of it all. She heard sounds of retching and saw Tom hurling his breakfast over the side of the front porch, Roy looked just as sick as his brother but managed to hold himself together.

Then she saw Sallie May, breath far too shallow and skin a pallid red sheened with sweat. Arthur and Lin had crowded around her, wrist deep in blood as they did their best to administer medical aid. Stella moved to help, heart in her throat and tears hot in her eyes, but Joe stopped her.

“Don’t. Sallie May needs clear heads an’ steady hands right now.” Stella looked down to see Joe was trembling too.

Stella’s revolver shook in her hand. She quickly holstered it as she took a hesitant step forward, watching Sallie May’s shallow breath slowly disappear. Roy and Tom had brought out a stretcher from inside the house. Sallie May was placed on it, Arthur and Lin quickly pulling the imp into the house.

Lin sported even more wounds than before, cuts and bruises crisscrossing her crimson skin with black streaks. Looking at Joe, he wasn’t any better.

He caught her staring and shrugged. “I’ve had worse. So has Lin.”

Stella grimaced, pointing towards the tapestry of scabbed over cuts from the attack on the farm. “You two are still recovering, though.”

 He ignored her concern, looking her up and down for wounds. He pointed to her midriff. “We’ll be fine. Come on, let’s get those checked out.”

Stella looked down to see her once immaculate feathers dripping blood onto the ground. Cuts and bullet wounds peppered her torso and limbs, her clothes nothing but strips of blackened cloth. Joe wiped his bowie knife clean on the coat of a dead demon, sheathing it at his side as he limped towards the front door.

“Come on. Time’s wastin’,” he said forlornly.

~~~ ~~~

The living room where she spent so many nights relaxing with the family was torn apart. Bullet holes lined the walls, the couch was an utter mess of wooden frame, cloth, and exposed cushioning. Joe’s recliner slumped as cheap cushioning pooled out of bullet holes and cuts. Broken glass crunched with every step, and Stella languished when she saw that the family’s piano was nothing more than a mess of wood and broken wire. Martin peaked out of the wine cellar, a pistol in his hand.

“It’s alright, Martin. They’re gone. Ya don’t mind helpin’ Roy an’ Tom with movin’ the bodies outside?” Joe asked. Martin gave him a wordless nod as he took a quick look outside. Joe looked at the living room with a grumble. “This’ll take a few weeks to repair…” He turned back to Stella. “Lin an’ Arthur are probably in the bathroom by the armory. Head to the upstairs bathroom and grab the first aid kit in there.” He slumped onto what was left of the couch, feathery down and padding exploding in a cloud around him.

Stella moved wordlessly, walking up stairs that creaked dangerously underneath her weight. The second floor seemed to be in much better condition, but she saw streaks of light coming from bullet holes in Roy and Tom’s room. Luckily that looked like the only room that had been hit. She grabbed the first aid kit from the second floor bathroom and walked downstairs to see Joe cleaning his wounds as best he could. He looked up when he saw her returning with the first aid kit, nodding his thanks as he opened the kit and pulled out the medical supplies within.

“Come on, let’s see yer wounds,” Joe said.

“I’ll be fine.” Stella lied. She grabbed a chair from the dining room that hadn’t been shot apart, and sat in front of Joe. “Noble blood, remember? I’ll only need help taking out any bullets.” She offered as she looked down at her wounded body.

Joe raised an eyebrow. Stella in turn pointed to a thin scrape on the back of her hand that had already begun to heal. Joe simply let out a derisive snort as he began patching himself up. He sewed up his cuts first, the only thing to register he was in pain was a slightly furrowed brow. Stella sat in a daze, mind blank. She heard the panicked commands of Lin as she worked with Arthur to keep Sallie May alive. Stella tried not to listen, but the only other alternative was listening to Joe slowly sew himself back together. Tom and Martin stepped into the living room with vacant expressions. Behind them was a bag full of looted ammo and weapons. Joe simply nodded and pointed towards the armory.

“This was a nasty skirmish, but it could’ve gone worse.” Joe grunted as he tightened some stitches, the black cut a now ragged line across his leg.

Stella took in the desolation around here. “You should’ve given me to them when you had the chance.”

Joe shook his head. “That’s quitter talk, I won’t have that in my house.” He looked up from his mending, idly cleaning his needle as he looked up at Stella. “Some of this may be yer fault, sure. Will an’ his gang are here because of you. So what? Can’t change the past. What’s important is what yer goin to do now.”

Stella gave the room another look, memories played in her mind. Memories of paradise lost. Her rage from earlier was lit anew as she took in the destruction. “I’m going to stop hiding.”

Joe gave her an unconvinced glance, then turned back to tending to himself. “Will an’ his cronies are in the Boarding House of the nearest town. Been stirrin’ up trouble over the last few weeks while you were busy healin’. All the town knows is that a Goetia hired these thugs to look fer one of her own. They also know a Goetia is the reason this whole damn mess started. They won’t take kindly to you comin’ into town to raise hell.”

Stella leaned on the chair's backrest, grimacing at its sharp groan of protest. “The town’s interests align with mine. They want the gang gone, and I want to put Will in the fucking dirt and confront my mother. I think we can find some common ground.”

Joe let out a dark chuckle. “Good.” He moved to the few bullet wounds he had acquired, grabbing some forceps and cleaning them thoroughly. “I’ll get in touch with a few folk. I can make sure they won’t shoot us on sight at least.”

Stella raised an eyebrow. “Us?”

Joe looked up at Stella. His tone dripped with malice. “They can threaten all they want. But they’ve hurt friends an’ may have just killed mah little girl. Will an’ his gangs days are fuckin’ numbered .” 

Lin stepped out of the hall to look at Stella and Joe. She gave them both a faint smile. “It’s not as bad as it looks, Will didn’t hit anythin’ major. Sallie May’s good fer now. But we’ll need to get her to town fast for better treatment.”

Stella stood up in a heartbeat. “Can I see her?” A hint of desperation was laced with an ocean of relief.

Lin nodded. “She’s sleepin’ right now but you can visit her. Just don’t move her too much.” She turned to Joe. “You don’t mind us puttin’ her in yer study? It’s the only place we could lay her down while she rests.”

Joe shook his head. “That’s fine.” He sized up his wife quickly, worry creasing his face. “You haven’t gotten yerself patched up yet? C'mere, I’ll give you a look.”

Stella turned to see Lin’s wounds still open in the dim light. Ragged black scars on her forearms and torso painted a grisly picture. More corpse than woman, Stella was amazed the imp could still stand, no less make sure her daughter was still alive. Lin took Joe’s offer and sat down on the chair that Stella had vacated. She looked at Joe’s needle and thread with an uneasy glance even while he began to sterilize it, but said nothing.

“I’m going to check on Sallie May,” Stella said.

Lin looked up for a moment. “The study is a few doors down from the armory, you can’t miss it. It’s the last door before headin’ out the back.”

Stella gave her a grateful nod before making her way deeper into the house. It seemed like the damage the house had taken only went as far as the front of the house and Roy’s room. The bathroom’s door was left ajar. She pointedly ignored the trail of blood, walking deeper into the house until she found Joe’s study.

The entrance was a burnished wooden door with little ornamentation save for a bronze knob. Stella turned the knob and took a step inside with a mildly impressed grunt. A dusty bookshelf lay on the far wall, tomes that hadn’t been touched in years stared at her with misuse. The rest of the room, however, was rustic. A handful of rifles and melee weapons hung pristinely along the walls, shelves full of trophies from past hunts were mixed with pictures of family and friends over the years. Stella even saw a handful of Pain Game awards, those of his own and a girl named “Millie” displayed proudly atop a polished wooden table. Not to mention a wealth of awards from Sallie May and her brothers. On the wall across from her was a leather sofa with a handful of towels draped over it. There laying against the sofa and towels was Sallie May.

She was sleeping. Her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm as her body fought to heal both an injured leg and newfound wounds. Her midsection was covered in bandages partially stained black with her blood. Her characteristic red bandana was folded neatly on an end table with a dimly lit lamp. Skin pale, hands balled into fists, and tail curled tightly against a leg, it didn’t seem likely she’d pull through. Stella looked behind her to see the door closed.

Stella gingerly sat down in front of the sofa. The cuts on her arms had begun to heal, what should have been deep gashes now thin scars. Her pain was only an afterthought as she sat in front of this imp that had forever changed her life.

She placed her hand on Sallie May’s forehead, lightly tucking the imps bangs behind her ear. “I’m here…” Stella whispered, leaving a kiss on her forehead. Her hand moved to comb through black hair with a spot of white at the roots. “Everyone’s safe, you don’t have to worry. Roy, Tom, and Martin weren’t hurt. Arthur’s mostly fine. Joe and Lin look half dead though.” Stella let out a weak laugh, her breath hitching. “Lin said you’d be fine too, we just need to bring you to town so they can look and…” Tears slowly began to trickle down her face again. “F-Fuck Sallie May… I almost lost you all.”

She felt a hand slowly clasp her own. She looked down to see red fingers slowly tangle themselves between hers. Calloused digits pressed themselves against feathers and talons. Even on the brink of death, the imp seemed intent on reassuring her that everything was fine. Worried about everyone but herself, even till the end. She held Sallie May’s hand for a moment, thumb rubbing circular patterns against the imps skin. Her shuddering breath slowly evened out as the minutes passed. Stella’s eyes remained locked on her black bandages, the imp getting shot permanently repeating in her head.

She didn’t know how long she stayed by the imps' side. Blame, worry, and the imp’s close call with death making a dull haze of her thoughts. It was only when Arthur stepped into the study that Stella was pulled out of her mental nightmare. He looked down at Sallie May’s sleeping form, then up to Stella. They held each others gaze for a moment. Stella was surprised when she saw shame etched on the face of Joe’s eldest son.

“I looked away fer one second,” Arthur whispered. “Took out an imp aimin’ at Joe. It was just a second , Stella.”

“That’s all it took.” Stella finished. “Not like I can judge you.”

Arthur stepped inside, closing the door behind him and leaning against it. Stella realized he hadn’t put his rifle away yet. In fact, it seemed like he’d taken things out of the armory instead. A pistol and machete with a thick spine were holstered and sheathed at his hips.

“Lin said we need to bring Sallie May back to town.” Stella began, gauging the imps reaction. “Joe and Lin don’t look like they can go anywhere anytime soon.”

“Lin’s staying back but I don’t think those wounds are goin’ to stop pa..” Arthur began, pulling out the truck keys from his pants pocket. “Roy and Tom are cleaning up the front. I’ll be helpin’ them in a bit.”

Stella looked down at Sallie May one more time, giving the imps hand a squeeze before standing up and letting go. “And after that, what will you do?” A cruel, almost manic grin began to spread across her face. By the way Arthur mirrored her expression, she was certain he was thinking the same thing.

“May go with Joe and take a trip to town. Go for an… Enthusiastic walk.”

Stella gestured for him to follow her. They left the study to see Lin wincing as Joe slowly stitched her back together. “You don’t mind me tagging along?”

Joe stepped away. When he returned he gave her a bandolier of fresh ammunition. The two of them shared a cruel smile.

Chapter Text

Stella let out a squawk as another bump in the road almost threw her out of the bed of the truck. Arthur didn’t seem to notice, focused on getting to town as fast as he could. Stella looked over her shoulder to see the imp holding the steering wheel in a death grip. Joe sat in the passenger seat beside him, arguing on the phone and rivaling the blaring radio in volume. In the backseat Roy, Tom, and Martin nervously checked a plethora of weapons they had brought from the house's armory. 

“We’ll be in town soon!” Arthur shouted over roaring winds and the whine of the truck's engine. “Roy, get Tom and Martin ready. Pops, how’s Charles and Ox doin’?”

Joe put his phone in his lap. “They’ll be at the Saloon an’ the Boarding House with as many men as they can find.” He turned and shouted out of the window loud enough for Stella to hear. “Get ready, we’re at the town's outskirts now!”

Stella gave him a nod, resting her head on the glass of the truck’s rear window. She closed her eyes and let the whistle of passing winds calm her anxious heart. It won’t be long now. About time I resolved this. One step closer to freedom. One step closer to her goal of not being hunted like some animal. She should’ve felt pride for pushing Will and his gang back, should’ve felt haughty confidence coursing through her veins now that she had her powers back. But all she could think of was Sallie May, bandaged and broken. A woman so full of vim and vigor barely clinging to life. Stella felt rage brewing in the back of her mind again, but she also felt… Hollow.

The feeling wouldn’t go away.

Time passed during her brooding. The sun trekked across the sky as they moved towards town. Stella watched as sparse shrubbery littered an expanse dotted with farms. Many of the farms had been fortified quickly, she saw barbed wire and boarded up entrances turn homes into miniature fortresses. But for every two fortified houses she saw, she saw a home that was nothing more than a burned out husk. Some of them had nondescript lumps littering the front of the properties. Bodies, probably. Roy leaned out of the window a tad, pointing towards one of the farms as they passed.

“They got the Smith’s.” Stella turned to him with a raised eyebrow. “Childhood friends.” Roy elaborated. “An’ one of the few folk around here that still plays cards with me.” The imp usually so full of attitude and cockiness wore a frown that didn’t suit him at all. “I hope they all got out safe…” The last remark was nothing more than a whisper carried to Stella’s ears by passing winds.

The Town of Last Respite seemed busy when they arrived. Farmers and townsfolk alike had gathered with scowls on their faces and revenge in mind. Many wore scars of recent conflict, bandages covering a streak of black on an arm or wrapped around a head. Many demons had slung rifles and shotguns over their shoulders, sending death glares towards the Boarding House. A handful of deputies had made a cordon around the building, something that piqued Joe’s interest when he saw it. Joe told Arthur to slow down before rolling down the window. A dark furred hellhound sidled up to them, deputy star gleaming against the collar of a tied up shirt and tomahawk resting lightly against her shoulder. 

“What’s with the cordon, Elsie?” Joe asked.

Elsie grimaced as she looked at the cordon behind her. “Not much of a cordon, really. We’re just makin’ sure the gang stay in there. And makin’ sure the townsfolk don’t burn it down yet .” She emphasized the last with a heft of the tomahawk.

Joe nodded. “Anyone escape?”

Elsie rubbed the back of her neck. “Somethin’ like that. They didn’t have enough vehicles to move everyone out before we surrounded the buildin’. The ones they couldn’t get out are making their last stand inside. And we want ‘em out.” The hellhound then turned to see Stella in the back of the truck. “Unholy shit, is that the blueblood they’ve been lookin’ for this whole time?”

Stella narrowed her eyes at the hellhound. “I am. But I’m here to take care of this problem of yours.”

Elsie crossed her arms skeptically. “Oh really? From what I’ve been hearin’ it’s yer fault they’re here in the first place.”

Stella began to sneer as a wave of self loathing overwhelmed her. “And I’m here to change it.” She turned towards Arthur, slapping the side of the truck. “Come on Arthur, we don’t have time to waste.” She then turned to Joe. “You said I was to talk with the leaders of the town, correct?”

Joe nodded. “Yep. They’re in the Saloon now, with a few others that hold sway ‘round here.” The imp then gestured towards the crowd in front of them. Many of the demons were staring openly at Stella now, none of them looked friendly.

Stella nodded, leaning her head back against the rear window of the truck. “Then let’s go, before the crowd decides they want to spill royal blood early.”

Joe sucked in a breath but refused to comment. Arthur started to honk the truck’s horn, the gaggle of demons in front of the truck begrudgingly letting the vehicle pass. Elsie stared openly at Stella. A look of skepticism and thinly veiled hostility sent a chill down Stella’s spine. None of them had angelic weapons from what she could tell, but not even she could fight an entire town. She’d have to be very delicate about how she handled things in the Saloon. Or she’d be as dead as the gang members she had slaughtered a few hours before. Her eyes narrowed as she remembered the bloodshed. I won’t die here. Not yet.

Stella waited as they parked in front of a building guarded by two hellhounds with high caliber rifles. The rickety Saloon had seen better days, weathered planks and freshly painted sign thoroughly caked with dirt. Swing-in doors let out the bustle of fervent conversation from within the building, the dim forms of demons conversing around tables could be seen through the windows.

“This is it.” Arthur lowered his window, shouting to one of the hellhounds about parking. They raised an eyebrow and just told him to park out front. Not like anyone else was coming in today. Arthur shrugged, killed the engine, and turned back to Stella. “This is it. Good luck,” he said as he hopped out of the driver's seat.

The rest of his family followed. Joe pulled himself tenderly out of the passenger seat with an obvious limp and clutching the vicious bowie knife sheathed at his side. He still cut an intimidating figure despite being covered in more bandages than clothes. Roy, Tom, and Martin filed out of the backseat with weapons clutched close. Tom cradled his lever action while Roy sported a cut down shotgun. Martin cradled a giant tube with a stock that had the word “Thumper” cut into its side. Stella felt her own revolver at her waist, the now familiar weight reminding her of why she was here. Right… No backing down now. The Goetia stepped towards the swing in doors and placed her hands against them. The hellhounds stepped in front to block her.

Joe placed a hand on the forearm of one of the hellhounds, shaking his head. “She’s with us. Let her through.”

The hellhounds begrudgingly stepped aside. Stella nodded her thanks at the wounded imp before turning her attention back to the swing in doors. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and stepped inside.

The Saloon’s interior was an assault on the senses. Deafening conversations mixed with the grate of blades against whetstones and the quick maintenance of guns. The scent of oil mixed with a cloud of cigar smoke so thick she could barely see the ceiling. She couldn’t help but recoil at the lack of refinement. Sallie May’s house had been a far cry to what she was used to, but this Saloon was barbaric . Whatever disgust she held was replaced with curiosity as she caught sight of a few demons sitting by the well lit bar. The imp she could only assume was the mayor was… Portly. Dressed in a tailored suit of cowprint that barely contained a belly as wide as he was tall. Beside him an imp in the uniform of some long disbanded legion cradled a shot glass and stared despondently at the bar counter. She caught sight of a silver star on his uniform, still polished to a mirror sheen despite its well worn look. And at the end of the bar, like some beacon of civility in this sea of ruffians, was a succubus. She was out of place, wearing a blue satin dress that hugged her figure and revealed just enough. At the moment she was rubbing the back of an imp so old he may as well be a walking corpse, some ancient breech loading rifle leaned against the barcounter beside him.

“Good. Everyone’s here, it looks like.” Joe pointed from left to right. “Mayor Ox, Sheriff Charles, Madam Lucia, and ol’ Henry.” Joe and Arthur stalked towards the bar counter where they talked with the hellhound bartender and town leaders both. One by one the four of them turned towards Stella with wary eyes. Joe grabbed a frothing mug that the bartender gave him before turning back to Stella. “They’ll hear what ya have to say.”

Stella realized that all sound had died around her. She looked around in the looming shadows where golden stares and horned figures shifted in the darkness. The glint of stout iron flashed in the darkness of the Saloon like glittering stars. Claws, horns, and teeth held a lethal promise that she may leave the Saloon in pieces if she didn’t offer them a deal they couldn’t refuse. Stella pushed down her unease and stepped forward.

The town sheriff was the first to speak. “You’re the one Agnes is lookin’ for,” Charles grumbled, rocking his head back as he downed the last of his drink. He let out a satisfied growl as he slammed the glass onto the counter. “You’ve caused us a lot of trouble, you know.”

Stella winced. “I’m well aware.”

Charles gave her an appraising glance, turning until he leaned back against the bar counter. “Where’d you get those duds? Never thought I’d see a blueblood wear Wrathian jeans an’ leathers.” 

Stella shrugged. “It was given to me by a few friends.”

Charles chuckled. “You almost look like one of us. Almost.” Stella’s eyes flicked towards the succubus at that remark. “Now don’t go lookin’ at the Madam. She’s earned her keep. Me and the mayor are the ones you should be worried about.”

Ox let out a weary sigh as he hopped off the stool. “Don’t antagonize her. I’d rather not have us lose fightin’ men before we even storm the Boarding House. Mayor Ox, at your service, yer highness.” While the words were curt, the tone certainly wasn’t. He spoke in a long suffering tone that implied he was done with nobles, and the quicker they got out of his town the better. “You’ve come at an… Unfortunate time. You see, we’ve had some run-ins with the folk tryin’ to find you. The town’s at its wits end.” He pulled off the unblemished top hat that sat on his head and placed it on his chest. “Now, there’s no real way to sugarcoat this so I’ll get right to it. What’s keepin’ us from throwin’ you to yer mother and lettin’ this whole situation sort itself out?”

Stella grimaced at the prospect. “You could.” Stella began. “Do you know what happened this morning?” The question hung in the air, unanswered. “This problem of yours. These… Bandits. Decided to attack your farms looking for me.” Stella turned around to the rest of the Saloon. She saw the scowls. The tightening of jaws, and the even tighter clutching of weapons. “They decided to kick down doors and beat you all senseless. But do you want to know why?” She turned back to Ox. “Because their coward of a leader, Will, thought it would be better to let the plains of Wrath kill me instead of doing the job himself. He made a mistake.” Her gaze fell on Charles as she spoke. “Will hurt someone special to me this morning. As I’m sure he’s done to many others in this room. And I intend to pay him back.”

Ox raised an eyebrow. “And how do you expect to do that?”

Stella smiled. “By killing anything that so much as associates with my mother. So I give you two options, Mayor Ox.” She unholstered her revolver, taking almost sadistic delight in the sound of metal pulling away from leather and the lethal promise it held. “I’m going to my mother, and I’m going to show that gang of hers just how fucked they really are. You can try and bring me to her, lose some of your men and let me have all the fun. Or you can join me and kick these vermin out of your town.”

Ox let out a long breath. “Well Charles… Whadya think?”

Charles turned towards Joe, who was busy nursing his now half full mug. “Poor conversationalist and more trouble than she’s worth, but she can definitely distract the gang. Can ya vouch for her?”

Joe took a quick swig before turning to the sheriff. “Yep. Tough an’ stubborn. She won’t back down.” His gaze fell back on the mug. “They hit Sallie May too, Charles.” Charles glanced at Joe’s sons. They all met his gaze with eager bloodlust. “With or without you, we’re stormin’ that damn Boarding House. And she’s our ticket through the front door without gettin’ shot up too bad.”

Charles turned back to Ox. “Much as I hate to admit it, Joe’s got a point. We could always use a noble. It’ll tie up her mother at least, if she’s in there. Demon form’s a bitch to deal with when you have angelic weaponry, and impossible to fight without.”

Ox’s brow furrowed as he looked up at Stella. Gazes locked, and breath held, the imp held a judging stare that would determine whether Stella would enter that Boarding House alone or with a legion full of the most pissed imps in the seven rings at her back. He broke out into a smile then, gesturing towards a nearby stool.

“Antoine, get our guest here a drink. We’ve got some plans to make.”

~~~ ~~~

Madam Lucia cradled a shot glass filled with a clear yellow liquid that glowed under the bar’s weak light. She swished the liquid around with a dour expression on her face. The pout would have looked cute if it weren’t for a creased brow filled with worry.

“As requested, I’ve set aside a few extra rooms in case the clinic overflows.” The succubus placed the shot glass to her lips and quickly downed the last of her drink. “I’ve enlisted help from Marian and some of her seamstresses in case we need to start… Sewing.” She spat out the last word with a certain distaste. “I’d rather not have blood on my beds but it wouldn’t do if I let my customers bleed out either.”

Ox nodded. “Much appreciated, thank you Lucia.”

The succubus gave the mayor a shaky smile before calling Antoine over for another glass. Stella turned towards Charles, who was whispering furtively with Joe, Arthur, and a few other stout imps and hellhounds at the end of the bar. Roy, Tom, And Martin were playing cards at a nearby table alone while keeping an eye on their older brother.  Stella turned to Ox while he fidgeted with a phone that had seen better days. She saw messages speed across a cracked screen; the mayor’s shaky hands gripped the phone tightly. 

“I take it you have a plan to get into the Boarding House.” Stella mused.

Mayor Ox pulled out a handkerchief to dab across his crimson brow. “A plan? Me? No, that’s what Charles and Joe are for! I’m here to make sure this doesn’t blow up in our faces. If Satan gets word that we’re tryin’ to fight a noble, we’ll be beyond fucked .” He huffed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I’m gonna lose years of my life over this,” he grumbled.

Stella rolled her eyes and turned to Joe. “You all have a plan to attack the Boarding House?”

Joe turned back to Stella with a stern glare. “Other than throwin’ you up front as a meatshield? Yeah we got a few things in mind. You can take a bullet, but I’m not bettin’ on yer healin’ factor against the firing line they’ve got set up.” He looked towards Roy and Martin. “You bring the machine gun?”

Roy’s attention was on his cards when he responded. “It’s in the back of the truck. I think Charles got it as soon as we parked.”

Martin looked up at his father and tapped “Thumper”. The almost comically large barrel of the weapon glinted dully in the thin saloon light.

Joe gave the weapon a deadpan glance before turning towards Charles. “How much of the Boarding House do you want back?”

Charles glanced briefly at Martin then broke out into a toothy grin. “Hey Ox… You’ve been talkin’ about renovating the Boarding House right?”

Ox looked over his shoulder at the Sheriff. “I was thinkin’ about it. Why?”

Charles and Joe shared a grin. “We can give you a discount on demolition.”

Ox turned away. “Don’t tell me. We’re hemorrhaging enough money as is. That damn gang has to go, I don’t care how you do it.” Stella could only watch the scene unfold with confusion. 

Madam Lucia rolled her eyes, catching the Goetia’s attention with a quick tap. “Looks like they’ve set their minds on the most crude and loud plan imaginable.” Stella looked at the bar to see Lucia down the contents of another shot glass. “You’re joining them on the frontline right?” Stella nodded wordlessly. Lucia chuckled. “Word of advice, seeing as you’re a bit new to town. Stay back and enjoy the show. Wrathian imps are a lot of things, but subtle isn’t one of them.”

Before Stella could ask what she meant the imps around Joe pushed away from the Saloon. They all immediately began to file out of the front door, an exodus of grizzled imps and half feral hellhounds leaving the Saloon barren.

Arthur turned back to Antoine with a grin. “Want to watch the fireworks?”

The bartender put down a half cleaned mug and a worn dishrag. “Of course.” He turned towards Madam Lucia. “Are you coming too?”

Lucia swayed as she fought the alcohol in her system. “Sure. I’ve got a nice enough buzz.”

Stella was left listless, watching as the Saloon emptied out in the blink of an eye. All the while Roy watched her with an amused grin. “You missin’ something?”

Stella blinked. “Uh… Just lost is all.”

Roy grabbed the forgotten deck of cards he and his brothers were playing with and tucked them into a pants pocket. He grabbed his shotgun and checked the chamber. “Well… You’re goin’ to see why Martin doesn’t talk all that much anymore.”

Stella blinked. “And why is that?”

Roy was grinning from ear to ear when he turned back. “He doesn’t hear that well, you’ll see why in a bit.”

It wasn’t long before they all stood in front of the Boarding House. Stella saw a gun barrel in almost every window, and the lethal glint of steel deeper inside. At the moment Charles was in a shouting match with one of the gang members. Some nonsense about “mercy” and “surrender”. Stella couldn’t care enough to listen. Her focus, instead, was on Martin. The young boy held in his hand what Stella could only call a comically large bullet. 

“High explosive? We want to kill em, not bring the whole damn building down kiddo.” One of the imps replied.

Martin rummaged in a gym bag and pulled out another comically large bullet. They looked almost identical, Stella couldn’t quite place what was different between each.

Arthur pointed to something else in the bag. “Go fer one of yer airburst rounds. Tear ‘em apart, we’ll clean up whatever’s still movin’ after that.”

Martin stared at the bullet for a few moments before shrugging and grabbing “Thumper”. He pushed on a lever that quickly opened up the breech of the large weapon. He had an almost childlike glee when he loaded and shut the weapon, turning it on the Boarding House. The imp dashed into the crowd of armed demons, followed quickly by Roy and Tom. 

Joe limped back towards Stella with an amused smirk. “We’re gonna send a few folks to storm the fire escape. I recommend you join ‘em. You’ll get inside quicker and that demon form of yers will be a nasty surprise indoors.”

Stella shook her head. Pointing towards the front of the Boarding House. “I’m storming that fucking door, Joe.”

Joe’s eyes twinkled, as if he’d hoped she’d say that. “You heard her, Martin, go ahead!”

Stella turned to see the imps around Martin take a step back. The gang started to laugh as they saw the child heft a weapon twice his size. “What exactly did you give him?”

Joe looked at Stella with equal parts pride and amusement. “The grenade launcher.”

Stella blinked. “The what !?”

She was answered with a loud thump from Martin’s gun. Everyone seemed to watch the projectile as it flew in an arc towards the Boarding House. The gang's reaction was comical, many of their eyes widening in surprise before the front door to the Boarding House broke in a hail of splinters. There was a split second of silence as Stella looked into the dark hall beyond before shrapnel tore apart the first floor. Like ragdolls the gang members crumpled behind the windows, cries of pain drowned out by a groan as the staircase to the second floor crumpled. Plaster and masonry broke away as dust choked the air between the townsfolk and the gang.

Arthur was at the head of a cohort of townsfolk in a flash. “Martin, give us some smoke! Joe, pin em!”

Martin fired his grenade launcher again, the second floor of the Boarding House disappearing in a cloud of smoke. The windows that weren’t covered in smoke was quickly riddled with bullets. Stella turned around to see Joe had set up a machine gun on another truck, a handful of Charles’ deputies manning the large gun with practiced ease.

Joe was behind them throwing boxes of ammo onto the flatbed. He saw her staring and pointed towards Arthur. “Need an invitation!? We even opened up the front door fer ya. Push before the gang recovers!” As if to emphasize his point the gang had begun to fire back, the crowd in front of the Boarding House splitting into two groups.

Stella saw Charles, Roy and Tom running with a group of Wrathian imps heading towards the side of the building. Her attention quickly swung to Joe, who pulled out a nearby rifle and started firing at the house alongside the machine gun. Martin had run behind Joe’s truck, bag full of ammo in hand as he fired the grenade launcher with wicked abandon. The first floor of the building was a smoking ruin, clouds of dust and dirt leaving the front of the building in a haze. The second floor didn’t fare much better as his grenades joined the fusillade of gunfire.

“Stella, you joinin’ us or what!? Cmon, haul ass!” Arthur shouted as he began sprinting towards the front of the Boarding House.

She was beside him in a flash of pearly pink tipped feathers. Revolver in hand, she surprised the imp with barely contained bloodlust.

“Ready when you are.” Stella gifted Arthur with a cheshire grin before flying into the foyer of the Boarding House in a flash of light and feather.

Arthur turned to the imps under his command. “Come on! Don’t let the blueblood show yall up now!”

Stella’s annoyance at the remark was drowned out by the howls of demons who made war their culture. Entering the Boarding House was an easy affair. Clouds of dust billowed in bright beams of sunlight. Around her were torn apart bodies of demons dressed loosely in the gang's characteristic leather jackets. Stella sneered, callously stepping over their tattered forms. There were a few demons dazed or shuddering amidst the wreckage, clutching weapons and wounds as they looked for an exit. She aimed her revolver and ended their suffering.

From the sound of gunfire above her it was a safe bet that Charles and the boy’s teams had already found ways inside. Gunfire from a nearby hallway tore apart a wall as soon as she stepped into the foyer. Drywall and insulation exploded around her as she took a few potshots before sprinting for cover. Stella dived behind an overturned table, squawking in surprise as a handful of townsfolk rounded the corner and returned fire. Stella let out a cry of alarm as bullets whizzed inches past her head. She pushed herself flush behind the table, heart thundering in her chest as she prayed to Lucifer himself that the firefight would be over soon. The gunfight had stopped almost as soon as it began, Stella only realizing that it had finished when she realized she could hear herself screaming obscenities into the air.  She heard the chirp of a radio followed by some footsteps behind her.

“Roy, how's the second floor looking?” Arthur asked.

“Like shit.”

Arthur chuckled before responding. “Joe, Martin, our boys are on the second floor, watch yer fire.” He looked down at Stella with a smug grin. “You need help gettin’ up princess?”

Stella stubbornly refused, even if she stood up on wobbly legs. “Main staircase was blown up, you got a way upstairs?”

Arthur nodded. “Sure. Follow me.”

Stella followed the imp past torn apart rooms and through walls that had once divided the main hall from other sections of the building. They passed the gang members that had taken pot shots at her moments earlier, ignoring their twitching forms as the light died in their eyes. The duo pushed from room to room, Stella supporting Arthur as he and his team secured what was left of the first floor. It wasn’t long until they found a fire escape leading up to the second floor. A handful of Wrathian imps were already running upstairs, toting guns with smoking barrels and melee weapons dripping with blood.

“That’s it for the first floor?” Stella asked, realizing she had barely even done anything.

“Yup. Didn’t take much. These guys are pushovers, apparently.” Arthur reloaded his rifle as he spoke. “We should’ve done this weeks ago.”

The second floor didn’t look much better than the first. Limp bodies and broken furniture littered rooms held up by the wooden frames of walls that used to separate them. 

Roy was leaning against a door ahead of them, casually reloading his shotgun when he saw them approach. “Yall have fun downstairs? Sounded like there was a party down there.” He winced as a Wrathian imp with a machine pistol kicked down a door and fired his weapon, the high pitched gunfire ringing down the hall. Arthur raised an eyebrow when he saw the imp ram another magazine home with perhaps too much force. Roy looked at his older brother smugly. “Mark lost a bet.” He turned around towards where the imp continued to fire into the room, screams quickly following the fusillade. “Tell me how much you lost again Mark! A few hundred souls right?” Mark gave Roy a murderous glare before shouldering through what was left of the door. He stalked into the room to finish his work.

Arthur sighed. “Sounds like the flank went well. Yall’re just cleanin’ up at this point.”

Roy gestured down the hall with the barrel of his shotgun. “Yeah. About that. We’re havin’ a bit of problems at the end of the hall.”

Stella tightened the grip on her revolver. “Any sign of my mother?”

Roy’s eyes narrowed. “No. But that’s not the only problem. Looks like whoever's in the last room knows what they’re doin’. They’ve broken holes in the walls to shoot us when we get close, and we don’t have any grenades to flush ‘em out.”

Arthur grimaced. “So not everyone in this gang is an idiot.”

Roy nodded. “Unfortunately.”

Stella glanced at the room. “I’ll tear them apart if you cover me.”

Arthur glanced at the end of the hall, then turned back to Stella. “They’ve got guns, you know.”

Stella grimaced. “We don’t have much choice. It’ll hurt and utterly ruin my bloody outfit, but they can’t kill me without angelic weaponry.”

Roy grunted. “May as well. She can tank the hit, Arthur. No one else can.” As if to emphasize his point a hellhound tried to peek around the corner. A barrage of lead had the hellhound scrambling back to safety as quick as he could.

Arthur grimaced. “Shit… You know this’ll suck, right?”

Stella gripped her revolver, talons extending in her off hand. “I’ll manage.”

~~~ ~~~

Stella squinted through the haze of gunsmoke and eerie shafts of light pooling into the room from bullet holes. Around her gang members groaned as they clutched their wounds. Behind her the townsfolk stormed into the room, headed by Arthur and Roy. Charles and Tom had stayed back, helping administer first aid to some of the wounded townsfolk. Arthur was on the radio, saying something about clearing the Boarding House. She was surprised to see Joe at the end of the hall, helping Tom with the first aid before walking up to her. The townsfolk cleared the last of the gang members, shooting all of the wounded save for one.

“How’d you get here so quick?” Stella asked.

Joe shrugged. “I ran in as soon as Arthur ordered us to watch our fire with the machine gun. There was no way I’d let yall have all the fun,” he stepped over the dead, his eyes locked on the last gang member. “What’re your plans fer him?”

Barnabas, Will’s second in command, was on his knees with his hands up in surrender. An almost untouched pistol lay in front of him. He watched Stella with piercing eyes that left her uneasy. Roy had slowly walked behind the spindly hellhound, shotgun trained on his back.

“Any wrong moves, mutt, and you’ll be leavin’ here in a body bag.” Roy growled.

Barnabas refused to comment.

“Where’s Agnes and Will?” Stella asked.

“Gone.” Barnabas replied. “Left as soon as we got back. Took anyone that was worth it in a fight, too, now that I’m seeing how quick you tore through my boys.” Barnabas let a slight smile spread across his lips. “Still, you’ve lost some men for nothing if finding Agnes and Will was your goal.”

Stella pursed her lips. She absentmindedly opened the cylinder of her revolver, checking the spent brass within. Two shots left. More than enough. “So that means I don’t have a use for you anymore. I don’t like having my time wasted, you know.” She swung the cylinder closed.

Barnabas’s gaze hardened, but he refused to say anything. The hellhound looked resigned to his fate. His hands fell to his sides, head hung low as he closed his eyes and waited for the end. It was Charles that came to his rescue, the sheriff placing his hand on the revolver as he did so.

“Hold on now.” The sheriff began, pulling out his handcuffs and binding the hellhound. “The ol’ dog’s still useful.”

Barnabas seemed to stiffen slightly. “I assure you I’m not.”

Charles grinned. “You know somethin’ don’tcha?”

The hellhound refused to answer.

Charles pulled the lanky hellhound up, dusting off the leather jacket that seemed a few sizes too large for him. “Don’t you worry now, if you answer mah questions willingly I won’t pull out too many teeth.”

Roy rolled his eyes as he kicked Barnabas’s pistol away, lowering his shotgun as he did so. “Yer really going to interrogate the runt of the pack, Charles?”

Charles raised an eyebrow at Roy. “Sure am. Got a problem with that?”

Roy shook his head. “No… Bet ya 10 souls he’ll break in a day.”

“I consider that a personal insult… I bet ya 20 souls he’ll break in a few hours.” Charles bantered with the imp before turning towards Stella. “Well, miss. Considerin’ you charged headfirst into this shithole you might be trustworthy after all. I take it you don’t really have a place to stay.”

“I do.” Stella countered. She then looked at Arthur and Roy. “But it may be safer if I stay in town.”

Charles saw the look, but refused to comment. “Well… I’ll talk with Ox. See if we can arrange somethin’.” He turned towards Tom as he grabbed Barnabas roughly by the wrist and pulled him into the hallway. “Remember Tom, Lucia’s got some rooms in the Sinner’s Kiss if the clinic fills up.” Tom gave him a thumbs up while he busied himself with stitching up the last of the wounded. 

Arthur leaned against a windowsill half blown apart. He glanced out at the street below, a cloud of dust covering the surrounding area. He grimaced at the destruction in the surrounding areas. Stella walked towards the worried imp, standing beside him and looking down at the ruined street. Streaks of obsidian blood on the road in front of the Boarding House showed where bodies had been dragged. It seemed that more of the townsfolk had been injured than she’d thought. On the other side of Charles’s truck she saw stretchers and injured townsfolk being pulled towards the town's clinic, the groans of the wounded a somber buzz that cut through the now silent rooms. Sheets were placed over their dead, their bodies reverently taken away on stretchers. There would be time for grief later.

“You know… I thought I’d feel better about clearing the gang out,” Stella whispered. She holstered her revolver and leaned against a part of the windowsill that looked stout enough to hold her weight. “Instead I just feel empty.”

Arthur’s face was stormy, an icy glare shooting down at the pools of blood below. “We didn’t get Agnes or Will. And we lost some good folk today. Not much triumph in that.” After some cursing and movement from below, they saw Charles kick Barnabas out of the Boarding House and drag him towards his truck. “Not a bad trade fer Will’s second in command, but that won’t be a good excuse fer families that won’t see their loved ones again.”

Normally, she wouldn’t have cared for a loss of life. But after today… “So…  I may not be leaving town soon.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Yer not coming back?”

Stella pursed her lips. “... No.”

Arthur rubbed the back of his neck. Silence stretched as imps slowly took headcounts and pulled away the wounded and the dead. They watched the younger brothers helping where they could. Tom and Martin helped sew up those still breathing, while Roy worked the stretchers. Even Joe helped, limping around with spare bandages wherever needed. Madam Lucia and Mayor Ox stood away from the crowd of wounded and tired warriors, dour looks on their faces as they watched long time friends get dragged away for treatment.

“I’ll talk with Ox an’ Charles. See if I can set you up in a good spot.” Arthur grabbed his rifle and turned away from the windowsill.

“Thanks.”

WIth nothing else to do, Stella followed the wounded to the clinic. It was a surprisingly large building, almost rivaling the Town House and the Sinner’s Kiss in size. Peach colored walls were adorned with the purple healing cross of Sloth. Stella had initially been surprised to see Baphomet in the Wrath ring, not to mention the extensive medical facilities despite this being as close to a frontier town as one could get. “From the Pain Games to the hunts, we sink a lot of money into our healthcare.” Ox had said with just a hint of pride. Considering the stubbornness of the townsfolk, Stella realized that many of them would rather tough out their injuries than get appropriate care. Such stubbornness wasn’t happening now, however, as injured imps and hellhounds were sewn up and thrown into the waiting room as fast as they could be treated. “Fighting condition” was an interesting concept in Wrath. If you could stand you could fight, it seemed. The prospect unsettled the Goetia.

The plight and healing of the townsfolk wasn’t the only reason why Stella had come. In one of the rooms Salllie May had been kept under close watch to see how her condition developed. Shallow of breath and clad in a white patients gown, she looked sickly while swaddled with pillows personally brought over by Tom and Lin. Her savage knuckle knife lay on the bedside table in easy reach, looking out of place amidst the sea of medical equipment around her. Stella watched what she could from the hallway, pacing nervously as she stared into the room. An imp nurse quickly stepped out of the room, jumping in surprise to see Stella staring down at her.

“How is she doing?” Stella tried to sound kind, but the question was more a demand than a query.

“She’s woken up, my lady!” The nurse practically hid behind a clipboard as she squeaked out a response.

Stella nodded. “Good. Step aside. I would like to speak to her.”

She didn’t wait for the nurse to comply with the order, simply placing a hand on the imps shoulder and directing her out of the way as she entered. She had to duck her head to step inside, grimacing at the packed confines of the room. Sallie May looked blearily at the room around her. Unfocused eyes quickly sharpening at the foreign surroundings. She quickly sat up just to let out a whispered curse and clutched her side.

Stella gestured towards the imps' bandages. “How’re you feeling?” Stella and Sallie May locked eyes for a moment, the imps alertness dying away when she saw the familiar face.

“Like shit.” Sallie May wiggled her leg, then touched her side. She laid her head back on her pillows in a frustrated huff. “Leg feels a bit better, but my side hurts.” Stella looked away, images of Sallie May bleeding out fresh in her eyes. “I’m in the clinic, aren’t I?” Stella nodded. “What happened?”

Stella wearily sat down on a nearby chair. The story she told held no embellishments. It began with fixing her up and heading into town, and ended with Barnabas’s capture. Sallie May listened somberly while Stella spoke. The imp frowned as she wove her tale. When Stella fell silent neither said anything.

“So… That’s it,” Stella whispered, feeling the strain of the day finally weigh down on her.

“Shit. I missed a lot.” Sallie May replied. The imps brow furrowed, then she turned back to Stella. “You did all that fer me?”

Stella closed her eyes, nodding slowly. “Yes… I can’t really deny that, can I?”

The imp chuckled, adopting a familiar smug grin that warmed the Goetia’s heart. “Gotta say, I’m flattered.” The two shared a quick giggle. “So… What now?”

“I’m going to move into town.” Stella began, leaning back in her chair. She nervously drummed on the armrests with her finger. “Will and Agnes are still unaccounted for. Not to mention most of the gang if Barnabas wasn’t bluffing. I’ll be safer here, and you won’t get targeted.”

Sallie May nodded. “Good. It shouldn’t take long fer me to heal. Once we’re good I’ll-”

Stella interrupted her by tenderly grabbing the imps hand. “You’ll head back to the farm. I’ll… I’ll see if I can get a plan set up between Charles and the mayor. Have a militia set up to patrol the surrounding farms. Rough and Tumbleweed Ranch will be included, of course.”

Sallie May shot up again, ignoring the pain in her side. “You’re sidelining me!? Yer gonna make me stay on the farm?” Stella let out a nervous laugh. “Cmon, leavin’ me out of all the fun like that.” Stella began shaking her head, her grip slowly tightening on the imps hand. “I got shot, sure, but it was ‘cause of the damn leg! I’ll be fine with a few more days of rest, Stella!”

“No you won’t.” Stella growled. “You’re going back to the farm. Or you’ll be locked in this room until you recover. You have to stay safe, Sallie May! You have to! I can take a bullet, you can’t. And if one of those bullets is blessed…” 

“Same goes to you, you know!” Sallie May shot back. “I had more fightin’ experience as a kid than you’ve had in yer whole damn life!”

Stella refused to listen, her decision already made. She let go of the imps hand and leaned back. “I’m not letting you stay where you can get hurt, Sallie May. That’s final.”

Sallie May’s narrowed. “You know yer doin’ what I did, right? What’s the difference between the farm an’ the cellar? I’m not a pet you can just lock up.”

“I know. I don’t care.” Stella looked at the imps' side. Bandages poked out of an undone patient's robe. Stella tied the robe back up, although her fingers lingered on the bandages. “I watched when you get shot, Sallie May. I watched you bleed out on the front porch. I… I can’t see you go through that. Not again.” Her caring touch disappeared. The Goetia quickly stood up, arms crossed behind her as she assumed a regal, commanding stance. “You can’t be hurt again. I won’t allow it.”

Sallie May looked up at the Goetia incredulously. “You… You can’t be serious.”

Stella’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve helped me learn how to live and enjoy life, imp. you really think I’d risk losing you?”

Sallie May looked up at the Goetia, unconvinced. “So yer goin’ to throw yer weight around like every other Satan damned noble? What’ll you do, order me to stay away?” Stella remained silent. “Go ahead. Do it .”

Stella’s straight backed posture faltered for a moment. She felt heat behind her eyes, tears welling up for a moment. Then she blinked it away and straightened up. A once caring, loving face quickly constricted into a gaze hard as iron.

“I don’t need to,” Stella said. She stepped out of Sallie May’s room, looking around before seeing a handful of hellhounds watching their comrades get treated. “You two. Guard this door. Make sure the patient doesn’t leave until she’s discharged by a doctor.” She turned back to Sallie May, seeing a look of genuine surprise in the imps face. She would have faltered, but the thought of losing the imp kept her from crumbling.

Sallie May watched as the guards took positions on either sides of the door, then locked gazes with Stella. The surprise had fallen away now, replaced by stubborn pride. Stubborn pride and pain.

“You’re really goin’ through with this. Aren’t you?” It was almost a whisper, the imp’s eyes widening in surprise.

“I can’t lose you, Sallie May. I don’t know what I’d do if I did.” Stella turned and walked away before Sallie May could respond.

Stella closed the door before she heard the imp’s response. She’d rather get shot by a blessed bullet again than see Sallie May’s look of betrayal.

Chapter Text

Stella winced, as food and silver plates were thrown to the other end of the dinner table.

“What do you mean you’re leaving!?” Agnes demanded.

Stella watched as her mother threw her glass of wine at her brother, the crimson drink splattering against a suit as white as snow. Andrealphus ignored the glass as it tumbled at his feet, wine now covering the expensive carpet below.

He dabbed at his suit with a handkerchief before pocketing the cloth. “You heard me, mother. I don’t see the need in repeating myself,” Andrealphus replied coldly. He crossed his arms, a mischievous smirk taunting Agnes as he stepped away from her mess. “I’ve simply invested in a few local businesses, allocated a legion for local enforcement, and bought some land in Pride’s icy north. Surely nothing to worry about.”

“Those legions that aren’t yours to command, not after your failures in the frontier.” Eligos growled.

It was hard to stare down Eligos. The old hawk still walked around in his uniform and medals, puffing his chest as if to draw the eye to his life's martial accomplishments. It almost made people lose sight of his scarred face and stump of an arm. He cut an imposing figure, even if his glory days were long gone. But Andrealphus had learned how to deal with the intensity of their father long ago.

“Failures in a frontier already conquered? I’ll admit to failure in a policing action if you admit to your failure of a campaign, father. You don’t have to though, that scarred ruin you call a beak is proof enough of your fuckup.” Andrealphus’s grin widened when his father took an aggressive step towards him. “Besides, my calling isn’t to fight like some commoner under your shadow.” He began to toy with a turquoise bracelet. It was an expensive rarity in the Pride ring, even for Goetian standards. “It seems my mercantile ventures have been much more successful than any of your blustering campaigns.” Andrealphus settled back into his chair with a hum. “It doesn’t hurt that I’ve been smart with my money while you lavished your court whores with your wealth.”

Eligos erupted in a flash, food and dainty plates falling to the wayside as he almost flipped the table in his rage. “You watch your tongue around me boy!”

Andrealphus raised an eyebrow, looking up at the Goetia while he took a sip from a teacup. He placed the fine china down on a saucer, laid it down on his lap, and looked directly at his father. “No.”

Before Eligos could push forward, Stella stood up and stood beside her brother. “I’ll talk to him, father.” She gave the Goetia a mollifying smile and a polite curtsy before rounding on her brother. “What the fuck are you doing?” She demanded in a hot whisper.

Eligos growled, looked at Agnes, then stormed out of the dining room. “I’m getting more wine.” He grumbled as he stalked away.

Agnes stood up from her own seat with a grunt, leaving Stella and Andrealphus alone.

“I don’t see why mother’s so mad. She’s been profiting off my trade agreements.” Andrealphus grumbled. But a cruel glint in his eye showed he wasn’t done. “Although if she realized exactly how much I’ve been making, she’d probably have a stroke knowing just how little of a cut she’s making.”

“If only she could keel over here.” Stella grumbled as she leaned against the overturned table. “But she’s getting kickbacks from her lovers too, now. She might not be focused on your own successes as much as her own.”

Andrealphus snorted. “She’s sleeping with actual Goetia, at least.” Andrealphus waved towards the chandelier above them, intricately crafted in Envy to look like feathers falling from the sky. “I’m not complaining, that’s more money in my bank account when she kicks the bucket.”

Stella huffed. “And father?”

Andrealphus brought his tea to his beak, taking a derisive sip as he narrowed his eyes. “You mean minor noble Eligos? Military failure? The only thing I’m getting out of his will at this point is an old suit of armor and shame.”

Stella sighed. “He still has a minor position in court, that’s not to be underlooked.”

Andrealphus glared at her. “He has nowhere else to go, and they can’t simply disown him. That title is as fake as our parents loving marriage, Stella, you know that.”

Agnes returned with a wine bottle in hand and a letter. Her eyes were locked on her children, a rare smile creasing her lips. “Stella, in light of Andrealphus’s decision to leave, I have something for you.” Stella and Andrealphus shared an uneasy look. “Don’t keep your mother waiting dear, I’ve raised you better than that.” Agnes chided her daughter with a stern glare.

Stella pulled away from Andrealphus to walk towards her mother. The letter held an unfamiliar seal. It was a powerful seal, one of the old Goetian families. Close to Lucifer’s inner circle, if she guessed right. Agnes saw where Stella was looking and her smile turned cruel.

“I see you recognize the sigil. My teachings haven’t been a total waste then.” She pulled out a picture from the envelope. “This is Prince Stolas, son of King Paimon, first of his name, confidant of Lucifer himself. A personal fan and patron of Lilith as well, if rumors are true.”

A feeling of dread slowly began to creep into Stella’s heart. She looked up to see her mothers triumph in her eyes.

“I’ve been corresponding with the old King you see, and in light of Andrealphus leaving your poor old parents alone, we’ve decided to marry you off to the young prince.”

Stella blinked. “What?”

Agnes pushed both the envelope and picture against Stella’s chest. She took both items with a dazed air.

“Now that your brother’s decided to leave us behind we can’t rely on his military or mercantile accomplishments, so we’ll marry you off instead. Don’t pout, you’ll be meeting him in about a week. Do make sure to make a good impression. It wouldn’t do for you to ruin what I have going here.” Agnes turned away with wine still in hand. But as she turned to Stella, her eyes turned to slits. “Remember Stella, if you ever run away from this family like Andrealphus, if you ever fail me like your brother failed this family, I will find you.”

Stella looked down at the picture with a dazed air. She only vaguely heard her mother stepping away from the dining room. Too stunned to move, too stunned to breathe. Time seemed to slow to a crawl until she felt Andrealphus place a hand on her shoulder.

“You can leave too, you know.” His voice was uncharacteristically tender, a total flip from the tone of a rebellious son. “I don’t have much wealth at the moment, but I can be accommodating enough to the one part of my family I’d rather not part with.”

Stella growled through her beak, throwing the envelope onto the now derelict table. “I can’t. If I leave too we’ll both be disowned by the royal line, especially if King Paimon is expecting a marriage out of this…” She shuffled towards a now abandoned chair, feathers deflating like a mourning veil against her young complexion. “Maybe I’ll get lucky with this suitor. Hopefully he’ll have enough power to keep my family in line.”

Andrealphus sighed. “Perhaps. But if you ever need help, just ask.”

Stella smiled at her brother. “Of course.”

~~~ ~~~

The town hall was surprisingly well furnished. Walls were covered in the pelts and horns of great Wrathian beasts or held ancient weaponry and battle honors that spanned centuries of conflict. Stella sat in one such office, normally furnished for high profile demons and diplomats of other rings. Intricately carved wooden chairs faced an ebony table inlaid with ivory and cut with depictions of Satan and warriors of old. She would have preferred more elegant motifs, but even she could respect the fine attention to detail in the filigree and the lacy cushions that sat on the chairs to accompany her desk. She sat on a high backed chair appropriately sized to a Goetia, much to her delight. In front of her was a stack of papers that represented the labors of statecraft. Food, trade, and military matters all mixed in a jumble of parchment and ink. The stack of paper taunted her with its size, threatening to tumble and fall into a mess with every wobble of the elaborate table. She ignored it for now, glancing at Sheriff Charles who sat in front of her with hopefully good news.

“The militia’s been set up, yer highness,” Charles said as he crossed his arms and leaned back against his chair. “And before ya ask, the Rough n’ Tumbleweed Ranch is a part of the farms they’re patrollin’. Joe an’ Lin’ll be getting some new farmhands at this rate. Just watch out, the town’ll know you’ve been pickin’ favorites.”

Stella tutted. “I don’t care if the town knows I have a favorite, Charles. Send farm hands their way.” She blinked, quickly shaking her head. " She hid a smile by taking a sip from a nearby wine glass. “It’ll incentivize loyalty. Look how I treat those that obey and treat me well.”

Charles’s harsh laugh flipped her grin into an ugly scowl. “Obey? Joe an’ Lin? Bit of a strong word there princess.” The sheriff’s laughter died when he saw her mood flip on a dime.

Stella put the wine glass down, tapping a quill pen fashioned from one of her own feathers. “Hm… I suppose so, those two are rather stubborn. They have grown on me though. They’ve put far more effort into my comfort than my own damn servants.” Stella noted. She looked towards a hastily scrawled checklist and crossed something out. “So the militia has been formed, how are we on food?”

“We’ve begun stockpiling in the Saloon. A few breweries and restaurants in town have also started to help. As long as Antoine and the others don’t start dipping into the stockpiles, we’ll be fine. An’ before you ask, the Trident’s Pain has been turned into a de-facto armory. My office can only hold so many guns when most of the townsfolk have more weapons than clothes.” Charles pointed towards the mass of papers on the table. “I thought Ox was helpin’ you out with the paperwork required fer governance.”

Stell groaned, sneering at the paperwork that seemed to taunt her. “He is helping me.” She gestured at the half-tilting pillar of paperwork between them. “He has two stacks as high as this in his office.” She pinched the bridge of her beak, feeling her recent duties weighing down on her. “Statecraft was never my strong suit, my brother was much better at that.” She slumped in her high backed chair debating on taking another sip of her drink. 

Her eyes fell to an ancient rotary phone at the edge of the table. An extravagant device made of brass and wood fashioned with screaming skulls and horns. She was surprised to find that it worked, considering everyone else in town had switched to more modern touchscreens. Regardless, it reminded her of home. Speaking of home… Now that I can actually call people, perhaps I should send word to Andrealphus. He may have some resources I can use to bust out of here and take Agnes down a peg… Her eyes flashed at the idea, a cruel smile twisting her sharp beak.

 There was a knock on the door to the office. Stella looked up at the same moment that Charles swiveled in his seat to see who was interrupting their little chat. “Come in.”

She was surprised when she saw Roy push open the door. He was busy patting dust off his tanktop. He still sported his cut down shotgun in a back scabbard. He caught her staring at the weapon and gave her a cocky wink before exchanging quick greetings with Charles. Stella saw Arthur in the hallway chatting away on his phone and waiting for Roy to finish his business.

Roy leaned against the Goetia’s desk, a hand reaching up to pat the shotgun slung over his shoulder. “Sorry Stella. I know this shotgun’s one of the nicest pieces we got back at the farm but you can’t have it.” He let the weapon settle back in its scabbard, hand resting against her desk.

Stella frowned. “You’re still walking around armed? The boarding house has already been cleared out.”

Roy shrugged. “Can’t guarantee safety on the roads, even with that militia of yers walkin’ around. Anyhow, how’s the town treatin’ ya?”

Stella pushed herself away from the table, glad to get away from the papers. “Fine.” The reply was quick and curt.

“Good to hear. Ox and Charles aren’t givin’ you trouble are they?”

Charles turned slowly to look at Roy. “The precincts got a whole folder on what trouble you’ve gotten up to Roy.” 

Stella glanced skeptically at the imp, ignoring Charles' lighthearted verbal jab. “Compared to you? The town’s been delightful.”

The response garnered a chuckle from the imp. “Honestly, I should’ve expected that.” 

Stella stood up, stretching as she felt sore muscles protest the effort. “The two of them have made my transition in town easier. But how about you and the farm? I didn’t expect to see you or Arthur so soon.”

Roy glanced into the hallway where Arthur was talking on his phone. “Sallie May’s got a clean bill of health. We’re pickin’ her up today. We also need to pick some stuff up from the Trident’s Pain but that’s not important. I take it yer not comin’ back to the farm any time soon?”

Stella’s answer was hesitant. “No. How is… How’s Sallie May doing by the way?”

Roy rubbed the back of his neck, gaze shifting everywhere but Stella’s. “She’s healin’ fine. A bit peeved you won’t let her join the militia, but with everyone pitchin’ in to work on the surrounding farms I reckon she’ll be too busy to care. Oh! Almost forgot.” The imp placed one more piece of paper on the Goetia’s desk. “Our phone numbers, in case you want to check up on us now that you’re livin’ the high life here in town. Don’t forget about us now, y’hear?”

Stella pulled the paper close to her like some long lost treasure. She gingerly folded it and placed it in her jeans pocket. “Of course.”

Roy stepped back towards the door, gracing Charles and Stella with a quick wave. “Never been one for goodbyes, so I’ll see you later.”

Stella watched as the imp closed the door behind him. “Of course.” As soon as the door closed Stella turned her attention back to Charles. “Is there anything else of note you’d like to tell me?”

Charles felt a buzz on his phone and gave it a look. His eyebrows rose in surprise. “Matter of fact, I do. Looks like Barnabas decided to talk a little bit more today. I’ll give you the details this afternoon.”

“Good. You’re dismissed then. Keep me in the loop.” Stella replied.

Charles simply nodded his head and stepped out the door, leaving the Goetia in silence. The paperwork loomed in front of Stella, promising mind numbing work that would grant little reward. She grabbed a paper from the top of the stack and let her mind wander as she began to work on it. I don’t know where Agnes or Will is, I don’t know if they’re going to siege the town with mercenaries, bandits, or simply adopt some guerilla strategy, I don’t even know what Agnes bloody wants… The stack of papers slowly grew smaller as the minutes ticked by, but her mind continued to swirl with thoughts of her predicament. It was a depressing spiral that ended with the Goetia holding her head in her hands. She never was good with statecraft, and she couldn’t just run away from it now that she had something to protect. Then her eyes fell back on the phone. I may not be able to handle this politicking. But I know who can. She picked it up after a moment's hesitation, finger idly twirling around the telephone wire as she input the correct number. Screams marked a ringtone all too familiar. In moments she heard a click and breathing from the other end.

A prim voice answered the phone. “Hello, this is the estate of Marquis Andrealphus of the Ars Goetia. State your name and business.”

“Princess Stella of the Ars Goetia. I would like to talk to my brother.” Stella replied.

“I doubt Princess Stella would call from somewhere as basic as Wrath.” The voice responded. “Please don’t waste my lord’s time, do you know how many people try to impersonate the princess to extort money?”

Stella growled, talons slowly extending and cutting furrows into the frame of her chair. “I know things that these extortionists don’t, imp.” Stella growled. “I know, for one, that the phone you’re using is probably cold to the touch. I know that Andrealphus likes 2 ice cubes in his tea, and I know that there’s so much ice in that damn palace of his that you’re probably talking to me under at least 3 jackets. Now stop wasting my fucking time and put him on the phone!”

“U-Uh, right away your highness!” There was some squirming before a familiar voice broke through the gloom.

“Who is this? My butler is strangely adamant I take this call, and if you’re some uppity salesman I’ll just kill you then hire another butler.” Andrealphus spoke drily into the phone, the tinkling of fine china heard in the background.

Stella smirked. “Bullshit, Andrealphus. I know you like that butler. Besides, everyone runs when you try to hire them as domestic help. The smart ones that is.”

Andrealphus laughed into the phone, almost guffawing as he tried to get ahold of himself. “Oh Stella, it’s been far too long! You’ve dropped off the side of the bloody ring! Stolas announced your disappearance a month or so ago. The family has been worried sick!” Andrealphus cleared his throat. “Extended family, I mean.”

Stella growled. “Speaking of family… I’ve run into a bit of trouble.”

Andrealphus paused, taking a sip of his drink on the other end of the line. “Oh? Where exactly have you been?”

“Promise you won’t laugh?”

There was an interested chirp from the other end of the line. “No promises dear sister. Now come on! Spill it!”

Stella sighed. “I’m in Wrath. I survived an assassination attempt an-”

She hadn’t even been able to finish before her brother broke into fits of laughter. Stella pulled the microphone away and let out a long suffering groan as her brother's cackles bounced around the room. When she’d thought the laughter finally ended, it would just start on up again. She was drumming her fingers boredly on her armrests when he finally finished.

“I’m not surprised you survived the attempt on your life, sister. But surviving Wrath ? The hick backwards ring?” Andrealphus tried to keep down another fit of giggles. He was only half successful. “So. When are you returning home? Stolas is still… Shall we say… Breathing.”

Stella grimaced at the remark. She hadn’t thought of her husband since Sallie May had been wounded. She’d simply been too busy. “I… I can’t, Andrealphus. I still have business here in the ring before I return to Pride.”

“Really? Business in the Wrath ring?” Andrealphus’s mirth was gone in a flash. “This is serious.”

“It involves Agnes. She’s behind the assassination attempt. I think it’s finally time we do something about her.”

A tense silence reigned on the other end of the line. “She’s down in Wrath with you?”

“Yes.” Stella replied.

A creak of a chair on the other end of the line was like a whip crack amidst the silence that followed. “I can use this to my advantage, and so can you. What town were you in again?”

“Last Respite. Frontier town south of Los Satanio.”

There was a shuffle from the other end. When Andrealphus spoke again his voice was muffled. “Servant. Call in my aides and begin packing. I have places to be.” When he spoke again his voice was clear, concise, and grim. “I’ll see you in a few hours my dear. Do be sure to have a proper welcome set up.”

Stella grinned. “Of course.”

~~~ ~~~

A helicopter landed in town square. Imps and hellhounds alike turned to watch the chopping blades and the billowing dust as forms emerged from the steel bird. First came hellhounds, clad in resplendent white suits with sapphire lining. The black rifles they held only further accentuated how out of place they were in the drab Wrathian town. Next came a half dozen imps in similar suits carrying suitcases twice their size. Finally, as the dust kicked up by the helicopter's blades settled, out stepped an almost blinding white Goetia.

Andrealphus was a frigid pillar of ice that refused to melt under the Wrathian sun. It seemed like a mist floated about him as latent magic counteracted the ring’s cruel heat. A blue vest of exotic fur framed an azure shirt and feathers as white as his sisters, accented with the blue feather tips characteristic of the Marquis. A white cloak billowed motes of frost behind him, further adding to the misty chill that surrounded him like a shroud.

Andrealphus looked around as the helicopter rose and flew away. “This is the town my dear sister has taken refuge in?” He sniffed. “Disappointing.”

A veritable sea of lower demons had surrounded the town square now, rough and tumble imps murmuring alongside stout hellhounds about who exactly this visitor was. The soft murmurs died as the crowd parted. Stella towered over them all, the tallest hellhounds rising up to her chest, and the tallest imps rising to her hips. She was hard to miss. Dressed in the tightfitting clothes of the Wrath ring, she almost seemed a polar opposite to her brother.

Andrealphus’s stern glare died when he saw his sister. It was replaced by a kaleidoscope of emotions. Relief, surprise, alarm, then unrivaled amusement. The Goetia couldn’t help but bring a hand to his beak as he was wracked with an entertained chuckle.

Stella’s eyes narrowed. She placed a hand on her hip as she waited for his giggling fit to die away. “Really, Andrealphus?”

The Goetia stepped forward, arms outstretched to gesture to the town around them. “Stella, my dearest sister. I never thought in a million years you would go bloody native! ” Andrealphus crooned. Stella let out an annoyed groan as Andrealphus devolved into another fit of mad laughter.

Stella walked towards her brother, bridging the space between the crowd and his entourage. The whole while the siblings glared at each other, eye to eye. Tension built in the assembled crowd. Andrealphus’s white liveried guards warily eyed the crowd of ruffians that seemed to surround them, and the town in turn began touching holstered weapons at the affront of yet another noble disturbing the peace. It was all dispelled when Stella and Andrealphus finally stood in front of one another and broke character. The two embraced in a tight hug. 

“Oh how I’ve missed you, dear sister.” Andrealphus toyed with Stella’s tiara, raising an eyebrow at the crown. “At least you’ve decided to keep wearing your crown, even if it has a few dents and… Is that blood?”

Stella pulled away from Andrealphus reluctantly. Usually his frigid touch was something she hated, but in Wrath it felt blissful . She took her crown, setting it back on her head in a flourish. “It’s good to see you too, Andrealphus.” 

Andrealphus dusted himself off with a displeased tut, dust already beginning to sully his pristine look. “I hope that we have a cleaner place to discuss matters. The town square certainly has a rustic look, but we can certainly do better.”

Stella nodded and turned back to the crowd. “Mayor Ox!” She called out. The portly imp waddled to the front of the crowd. “Bring us back to the Town Hall, would you? We have much to discuss.”

Ox rushed to oblige, muttering something about  “damn bluebloods” as he did so. Andrealphus’s eyes narrowed, and he raised his hand. Sapphire magics slowly wrapped around his fingers, but Stella quickly defused the magic by grabbing his hand.

“They may not show proper subservience, brother, but these imps have proven to be reliable. Please don’t destroy the goodwill I’ve made here. I don’t have many places to stay.”

Andrealphus raised an eyebrow. “And why not? I can call the helicopter back, we can go to Pride.”

Stella turned on her heel to look at the Town Hall in the distance. “As said on the phone, I still have affairs to settle. We can continue this conversation somewhere more private.”

Andrealphus sighed, turning to his entourage of lower demons. “Alright, bring my things along. Lead the way, Stella.”

The Goetian siblings made idle chatter as they were led to the Town Hall by Mayor Ox. Around them the town could only stare. Farmers and tradesmen both watched with wary eyes as yet another Goetia from out of town walked their streets uninvited. Andrealphus didn’t seem to care for those judging eyes. He either stared down anyone who had enough gall to meet his gaze, or simply dismissed their stares with a huff and a turn of the shoulder. His entourage were much more alert, however. His imps looked around furtively over their shoulders, and his hellhound guards seemed to be looking everywhere at once.

“These Wrathian demons seem quite tame compared to when I was here last.” Andrealphus noted.

Stella shrugged. “I helped them take care of a little pest problem, they trust me enough not to shoot you at least.”

Andrealphus looked at his sister, incredulous. “You? Doing dirty work? What happened during the last few weeks.”

Stella let out an aggrieved sigh. “A lot.”

They made it to the Town Hall without any delays. The sight of two Goetia was enough to have demons move out of their way. Andrealphus looked around the furnishings of the building as soon as they entered, taking his time in the Town Hall’s foyer to truly take in his surroundings. He clasped the skull of some reptilian beast, raising an eyebrow at the sea of trophies in the forms of pelts and skulls that littered one wall.

“I’ll hand it to you, Mayor. Your town has acquired quite the collection of… trophies.”

Mayor Ox simply tipped his pristine top hat with a humble air. “Thank you, yer highness. You're lookin’ at generations of triumph right there.”

Andrealphus placed the reptilian skull back on its pedestal before turning back to Stella. “So, you told me that you had a place we can speak in private?”

Stella nodded. “Of course. Follow me to my office. It’s not much, but I’ve made do with what I can.”

Andrealphus took another glance at the rustic decor of the building. “I can tell. Alright then, dear sister, lead the way.” He turned towards Mayor Ox. “Please direct my entourage to proper furnishings, or at least a room appropriate for my station.” He turned towards his guards. “One of you, come with me. The other will go with my imps and unpack.”

Without another word Stella and Andrealphus walked down a side passage, moving into the bowels of the Town Hall with one destination in mind. The two siblings were silent until they entered Stella’s office. Stella immediately closed the door behind them as soon as they entered.

Andrealphus gave the room the barest glance before turning to his sister. “So. Now that I’m here, you wouldn’t mind bringing me up to speed? Seeing as how you’ve been stuck here and haven’t decided to return to Pride, I take it the situation is dire.”

“Something like that.” Stella began, gesturing towards the chairs at the far end of the room. “Get comfortable, it’s a bit of a tale to tell.”

Once they were both comfortable Stella began to fill Andrealphus in on her trials thus far. She started with a trade gone wrong, of her carriage attacked and abandoned in the edge of Wrath, and the subsequent day spent delirious due to blood loss. After quick preamble she continued with Sallie May saving her and her work on the farm. The Goetia gauged Andrealphus’s reaction as she spoke of her time healing from an angelic wound. A face originally full of mirth quickly turned serious, then dour as the tale went on. Stella omitted her… Relations… With the country imp, and finally finished with the attack on the Boarding House and calling him. Andrealphus had his hands clasped primly on his lap while he took a moment to digest the information.

Stella was about to speak again, but Andrealphus stood before she could say anything. Hands clasped behind his back, he made his way to the other side of the table that separated the two of them. He stood by the window, pulling open the curtain and looking down at the town with a judgemental glare. The room suddenly felt colder as he worked his magic.

“There… Much better.” Andrealphus began. He pulled off his crown and toyed with the pristine spikes atop it.“So, Agnes has finally shown her hand then?”

Stella raised an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

Andrealphus looked behind his shoulder at his dear sister. “You haven’t heard anything from Stolas, have you?” Stella shook her head. “Through sheer luck, or perhaps some form of deal that is utterly lost to me, Stolas seems to have found a way to keep your family from hemorrhaging money. Something about investing in an assassination business, along with some bizarre venture in selling taxidermy.” Andrealphus laughed at that. “ It seems our dear mother was relying on your family to go bankrupt. It certainly set our dear mother off balance when he pulled the family finances from the red. Perhaps that’s why she decided to come here personally. But the question remains, why did she attack you in the first place?” Andrealphus turned to Stella with a raised eyebrow.

“How am I supposed to know? She’s been a bitch for as long as we’ve known her, I’m surprised it took her this long to try and kill one of us.” Stella responded.

Andrealphus let out an aggrieved sigh. “No… You’re her only connection to King Paimon. Save your daughter of course. It makes no sense why she’d want you dead. But since we know your death is her ultimate objective…” He frowned, icy blue glare losing its focus as he became lost in thought. “Well… We can do something with that…” He turned away from the town, eyes flashing a cold sapphire as he placed his crown back on his head.

Stella smirked, leaning back in her chair. “Oh? And what do you have in mind?”

Andrealphus grinned at his sister. A mischievous turn of the beak that meant only one thing. He’s plotting something . “Let me worry about that. First, tell me the status of the town…”

Chapter Text

Hellhounds and imps moved between the lines of golden crop, hellish suns giving their skin and fur a crimson or silver gleam. For the first time in months the fields seemed full of vigor, stalks of grain standing stout and proud as they danced to the whims of the wind. Sallie May could watch the flowing crops all day, entranced by a bewitching dance that signaled an end to months of diligent toil. She took a sip from her brandy, leaning against the front porch with a despondent air. She would’ve been down there in the fields, but Joe and Lin insisted she heal. For once she listened.

Not like she had much of a choice.

The wound in her side throbbed. A trio of white, scabbed over dots on her red stomach was a grim reminder of how close she’d come to death. Melancholy filled the country imp as she brought a hand down to her midsection and palmed the new scars. She remembered little. Just a frenzy of bullets and blades, a moment of surprise when she saw Stella amidst the chaos… Then she was on the ground feeling… Cold. The throaty bellow of their livestock pulled Sallie May’s attention away from her wound, glancing up to see Arthur talking with a handful of friends  keeping an eye on the cows.

The front door creaked open behind her. “How’re you holdin’ up?” Joe asked as he stepped onto the front porch.

A dull pain lanced through her side as she turned to her father.. “Fine.” She grunted, gritting her teeth and waiting for the pain to subside. She turned back to watch the front lawn, pointing towards the farm hands around them. “Don’t you think this is a bit much?”

Joe hobbled towards a rocking chair they had pulled onto the front porch. “Tell yer damn girlfriend that. She won’t take no fer an answer. The town knows we’re her favorites at this point.” He stopped mid sentence, glancing down at her gunshot wounds. “But on the bright side, it’ll be a good break for you.” 

“Break? I’ve been healin’ fine.” Sallie May grumbled. She was never one to pout, and she wouldn’t start now dammit!

“That grimace says otherwise. I know how much yer achin’ to join that damn militia Charles is runnin’, but I won’t have you slowin’ em down,” he warned. “All fun and games till you rip one of those holes open again.”

Sallie May rolled her eyes, ignoring the stout imp. “I’ll be fine, pa. I’ve gone through worse. You know that.”

Roy snorted from high above them. “I call bullshit sis. Yer just bein’ stubborn.”

Sallie May shaded her eyes from the sun and leaned over the porch. Roy and Thomas were busy fixing their shot up window. The house's siding had been ripped out, plywood covering the recently replaced exterior as Roy and Thomas worked on the repairs. Their former window frame lay on the side of the porch, a bullet filled husk of carved wood and broken glass. 

Sallie May picked up a nail that had fallen from above, flicking it up and hitting Roy in the forehead. “What’s that supposed to mean!?” She demanded.

Roy cursed and rubbed his head, hammering in another nail. “It means you can’t keep fuckin’ around anymore. If you die we’ll have two pissed nobles to deal with instead of one.” The staccato tempo of hammer against metal changed to a dull thud as it hit wood. Roy whistled contendly as he rubbed a hand over his handiwork. His attention shifted to his sister with a characteristic smirk. “I reckon we can start callin’ you princess too at this rate. Cmon sis, tie the knot with Stella and bring in some money!”

Sallie May flicked another nail at Roy, the young imp laughing and dodging out of the way. Sallie May sneered at her brother, turning to Thomas. “Hit Roy in the head fer me Thomas.”

Thomas poked out of the empty window frame, giving her a thumbs up before whacking Roy lightly on the back of the head with the handle of his hammer. “Quit pissin’ her off bro. Let’s just finish the repairs then head downstairs fer a drink.”

Roy sighed and looked back at the partially repaired exterior. “Well… We can start replacin’ the sidin’ in the afternoon at this rate.”

Tom glanced up at the uncaring sun. Even with the cool breeze, the cloudless sky promised another sweltering day on the farm. “Sure, if ya want to be in the heat while yer workin’.”

The droning of their bickering followed Sallie May as she hobbled back under the shade of the porch. Her bottle of brandy lay alone in the shade. She picked it up and took a quick swig, leaning against the wall beside her fathers rocking chair. The sizzle of food from deeper inside the house hinted at Lin’s delicious cooking. She took it all in. The bickering above, the smell of cooked food, and the soft rustle of winds through the fields… Feels like home. Her eye caught a hill near the end of the property where a lone Acacia tree stood defiant to the heat of the dawn. A memory came unbidden of passion under the stars. So why does home feel so lonely…?

One of the farmhands called out a warning, pulling Sallie May’s gaze away from lost love upon the hill. A plume of dust ruined the perfect horizon, a matte black truck barrelling down the dusty road at a steady speed. Two patrol cars flanked it, donned in gray paint and tinted windows. Sallie Mays' eyes narrowed when they began slowing near the farm.

Joe stood up, the rocking chair creaking under his weight. “They’re comin’ from town…”

Sallie May turned towards Joe with a concerned frown. “We expectin’ anyone?” The stout imp shook his head.

Her hand fell from the front porch to her hip, where her knuckle knife lay sheathed. After the attack on the farm she wouldn’t go anywhere else without it. The brass pressed tenderly against her palm like an old friend.

The vehicles seemed like beetles scurrying upon barren desert sands when they passed through the arch of the Rough n’ Tumbleweed Ranch. The billowing cloud of dust flew to the far desert plains as the truck and cars rolled to a stop, bright lights illuminating the precious shade of the porch. Hellhounds stepped out of the patrol cars in sterling white vests. They didn’t seem to care about the dust around them, stoic faced as they stepped forward and opened the passenger door to the black truck. A Goetia stepped out, wearing blinding alabaster and icy sapphire that rivaled the sun's fiery glare. There seemed to be a mist about him, a faint aura of ice that battled the heat. The Goetia glanced at the rest of the farm, a hand trailing the edge of his beak in unimpressed contemplation. That same bored gaze fell on Joe and Sallie May after an almost lazy scan of the farm.

“This is where Stella sheltered while healing?” Andrealphus asked one of his guards. They responded quickly in hushed tones. “There must be some kind of mistake.” He looked back at the main house. “There’s no way she would stay here unless her life depended on it.”

“It did.” Sallie May interrupted, gingerly stepping down from the front porch to stand in front of the Goetia. It took some willpower to not scowl when she saw the haughty, self important glare he gave her. “Found her up north bein’ mauled by a pack of beasts. She would’ve bled out that night if not fer us.” She toyed with the knuckle knife at her side, pulling it slightly out of its sheath just to let it fall back into its scabbard. In a flash the hellhounds were armed, black pistols held in hand and trained on her. She hardly bat an eye, raising an eyebrow at the Goetia. “Are we goin’ to have problems mister…?”

“Andrealphus.” The Goetia replied, bowing with a stately air. Upon seeing the reaction of his guards, Andrealphus gave them a dismissive wave. The pistols were holstered in a heartbeat. “She didn’t have much of a choice then. More’s the pity.” Andrealphus mused. He glanced up at Roy and Tom, who tried their best to divide their attention on the Goetia and their repairs. “I can guarantee it wouldn’t have been her first choice.”

“Whaddya want?” Sallie May growled in an annoyed huff.

Andrealphus crossed his arms in contemplation when he looked back at the imp. Sallie May saw the Goetia’s flared annoyance bleed away into a contemplative curiosity. She knew that the Goetia was measuring her for all she was worth in that single, weighted stare. “Let’s just say I’m getting an idea of what me and my dear sister have to work with in this backwater.”

They both glared at one another, a battle of wills to see who would stand down first. Sallie May felt her golden gaze be swallowed up by the Goetia’s apathetic, sapphire orbs. Lower demons would have looked away in a heartbeat, but Stella had locked Sallie May in a similar stare enough times for her to hold her ground. 

Andrealphus broke into a grin, the first to concede defeat in the primal stare-down. “You’re a stubborn one. Now I see why my sister enjoys your company.” Andrealphus’s head turned to the front of the house, raising an eyebrow at the homely door with chipped paint and riddled with bullet holes. “Now, while I would love to continue teasing you and your family, I did come here for business. Is there any place here that we could conduct it?” A hand rose to rub his chin in derisive judgement. “Preferably somewhere that hasn’t been shot to oblivion…” 

Sallie May leaned forward to respond with characteristic vitriol, but Joe cut her off. He grabbed both their attention with a brief whistle and a gesture towards the inside of the house. “I’ve got a study in the back. Yer mother’s goons shot up the front of the house, but they weren’t exactly thorough. Only the front’s been shot to shit. If yer expecting food and drink, though, you’ll be disappointed.” 

Andrealphus dismissed Joe’s concerns with another wave of his hand that left trails of frost in the air. “A travesty, but nothing I can’t handle. Lead the way.”

Sallie May reluctantly pulled her hand away from her knuckle knife. She stepped towards the door and opened it. Hinges creaked and wooden floorboards let out a high pitched groan as lowly imp and noble born crossed the threshold. The hellhounds attempted to push into the house alongside their employer, but Joe stopped in front of the doorway and turned to them.

“I hope it wouldn’t be too disrespectful fer you to leave yer hounds outside.” Joe noted.

Andrealphus shrugged. “If you insist.” He snapped his fingers, catching the attention of his guards. “Guard the vehicles, they would have done something by now if they intended to harm me.” The hellhounds turned as ordered, allowing the noble to enter the house alone.

Sallie May was immediately hit with the smell of Lins cooking and the sound of hammering from upstairs. The living room was the epitome of orderly chaos. The walls were gutted in some areas where the family hadn’t been able to replace the insulation. Planks of drywall leaned against where the piano used to sit, and what little furniture they were able to save was either pushed close to the wrecked couch or stood in front of the fireplace. Much like his sister, Andrealphus had to slouch to keep from hitting his head on the ceiling when he walked around.

Walking through the house was a quick, silent affair. Destroyed or recently repaired walls gave way to a more homely atmosphere as they passed the living room to enter the heart of the house. It wasn’t long before Joe opened the door to his study, letting both Andrealphus and Sallie May inside. Luckily, no damage had been done to the distinguished room. Trophies and books littered dusty shelves, and the couch Sallie May had lain on a few days before held no speck of blood to indicate how close she’d come to death. Andrelaphus walked straight to one of the bookshelves, wiping away dust with a finger as he browsed the available titles. Joe in turn limped to the other side of the carved wooden table. Atop the smooth surface his shotgun lay partially disassembled, oils and rag set primly to the side. Joe pushed back some of the parts to give the table some clear room before sitting in his chair. He let out a pained breath as he sank into the cushions. Andrealphus followed him, sitting down on a chair facing the front of the table. Sallie May settled on the sofa as Andrealphus spoke.

“I was honestly curious about the family that had saved my sister, it was rumored to have some of the best fighters in town. Everyone further south is so tightlipped about the details. So I came over to see what I was working with.” Andrealphus mused, looking around the room. 

Sallie May unsheathed her knuckle knife, toying idly with the thick blade. “And the verdict?”

Andrealphus shrugged. “I haven’t seen you in action yet. But seeing as how you defended your home against my mothers minions, you must be worth something .”

Joe crossed his arms and propped himself against the table, staring ahead at the Goetia in front of him.“We’d be more useful to you and yer sister if we could hunt down yer mother and her gang.” He began to fiddle with the disassembled parts of the shotgun, a wary eye trained on the Goetia as he spoke.

Andrealphus leaned back. “You’re not wrong there. The search teams need more manpower to cover a larger area. Charles said something about sending expeditions into the local area, but nothing has born fruit quite yet.”

Joe began reassembling his weapon. His face constricted in annoyance as he worked the delicate metal, his focus on the intricate dance needed to rebuild a lethal technological marvel. “Yeah, Charles texted somethin’ along those lines about that. Said the only places they haven’t looked yet are a few abandoned towns to the north an’ the old railroad station. And maybe some other spots near the quarry.” He let out a satisfied grunt as he tightened a handful of screws into place, working the action of his weapon. The shotgun seemed to come back to life, letting out the ratcheting metallic bellow of a weapon of war. “That’s still a lot of ground to cover.”

Andrealphus lips curled ever so slightly. The noble leaned back into a chair he was barely able to fit in, resting his chin on a propped up wrist. “My thoughts exactly. But alas, my dear sister doesn’t quite see it that way.” He closed his eyes at the lament, letting out a deep sigh. “It seems Stella has grown quite fond of you all. Or she’d at least prefer not to see you die.”

Joe raised an eyebrow, placing his shotgun in his lap. “You make that sound like a bad thing.”

Sallie May leaned against the sofas armrest. “She’s just bein’ stubborn.”

Andrealphus chuckled, turning around to Sallie May. “You’re right, she is. I was actually hoping you could talk to her.”

Sallie May sheathed her knife and crossed her arms in a petulant huff. “As if I could get through that thick skull of hers.”

Andrealphus smirked. “You’d be surprised. However, there is something else I’d like you to do.”

Sallie May stood up. “And what would that be?”

Andrealphus leaned back. “Well, seeing as how your father’s still healing, and your brothers are busy on the farm, I was hoping you could take a quick look at the defenses of the town. Charles says they’re fine, but you know the town as well as he does and I do prefer getting second opinions in situations like this.”

Sallie May thought for a moment. “Well… I don’t have much else to do at the moment…”

Andrealphus grinned. “Good. Take the patrol car out front, I’ll have one of my men return with you.”

Sallie May frowned. “That’s it? Just a quick look around town?”

Andrealphus nodded. “Of course, unless you still need to heal.”

“I’m fine.” Sallie May countered quickly, staring her father down. “It’s just a quick look around town. Tell me what you need me to do.”

The specifics of this quick little task were easy to do and easy to remember. Give the towns defenses a quick look and report the weaknesses back to him or Charles. She could do that. It seemed redundant though. If veterans like Charles and Henry were in charge, they would’ve turned the town into an unassailable deathtrap. Any time she pointed that out, however, she would be rebuked or dismissed. Such was the haughtiness of this Marquis of Pride. It wasn’t long before Andrealphus followed her back to the front of the house. Andrealphus instructed one of his guards to give her keys to one of the patrol cars. After a quick exchange of goodbyes the Goetia turned back towards the van, but before he stepped into the van he gave her an odd message.

“Do give my sister my regards when you get there, will you? She doesn’t quite seem like herself these days.”

Sallie May entered the patrol car without a moment’s hesitation. “Don’t count on it,” she replied. “I technically shouldn’t be in town. But it’s not like an order from that girl’s ever stopped me before.”

~~~ ~~~

The town’s sign was a rickety old thing. It welcomed her with the towns sandblasted name and a population count far out of date. She was surprised the old thing was still standing, given how many bullet holes and blade cuts checkered the ancient wood. Yet stand it did, as stubborn as the townsfolk it meant to represent. Sallie May’s gaze turned back towards the town proper. It was a humble town from afar, almost blending into the background of a bloodred horizon and towering mountains. Buildings both big and small seemed to huddle together for protection against the predation of the savage ring, stout wood and spiked storefront daring anyone to step close.

But for her? It was still home.

Sallie May walked towards the front of town with her hands on her hips, ensuring the patrol car was parked and well hidden beforehand. A handful of imps in a nearby storefront gave her the barest glance before waving her by. She responded with a quick nod of her head, ignoring the rifles leaning against the storefronts side and the pistols holstered at their hips. She had passed half a dozen sentry posts like that heading down the road to The Last Respite, she wouldn’t be surprised if everyone in town was packing some kind of heat.

A quick survey of town made the rugged imp grin. Barricades in some streets forced attackers into killzones and traps; the upper floors and rooftops of many buildings had been reinforced with sandbags and makeshift cover. Guns of all shapes and sizes seemed to peak out of the lethal maze of wood, spikes, and metal. Her report to Andrealphus would be a quick one. She pulled out her phone.

“The town’s good.” She quickly tapped out.

It wasn’t long before the black rectangle vibrated with a succinct response. “Wonderful.” Sallie May rolled her eyes and moved back to the main road of town.

As she walked through the main street she was surprised to see it abuzz with activity. Tradesmen cluttered around the wreckage of the Boarding house, nothing more than a wreckage of wall and wood standing on feeble foundations. Their renovations were slow but thorough if the chaotic sound of hammering and shouting deeper within was anything to go by. Sallie May turned and moved through the town to her final destination. 

The Saloon seemed a hotbed of activity, with Antoine ironically getting more customers than he had in months. It was abuzz with laughter and raucous chatter, the sound of bar fights and off-tune drunk singing blending into some chaotic assault on the ears. The imp grinned and pushed open the swinging doors, stepping inside and waiting for her eyes to adjust to the gloom. The first thing she noticed was a blur of dark fur in front of the bar counter. Elsie laughed as she punched a nearby imps jaw, the crimson skinned cowboy falling to the floor in a heap of broken horn and weak limbs. The hellhound grabbed a nearby mug off the bar and let out a victorious howl before taking a swig. Even amidst the din of the bar she heard the cheers of Antoine and a handful of hellhounds at the other end of the bar, followed by the curses of a gang of imps at the other end.

“Talkin’ shit doesn’t help when you got a glass jaw Ron! Learn to put up or shut up!” Elsie jeered as she sauntered back to her end of the bar, strutting to the cheers of friend and bartender alike.

Sallie May ambled over while Ron hobbled up from the floor. “That’s not fair, Elsie. You know you’ve got a mean right hook.” Sallie May chided as she hopped into one of the nearby barstools.

Elsie perked up in surprise, ears twisting forward and head swiveling to look at the rugged imp. “Sallie May! What brings you here! We all thought you were under house arrest since the scuffle at the Boarding house!”

Sallie May leaned back against the bar counter, giving her a shrug. “Just makin’ sure the holes in my body got sewn up. But I’m back in the fight now. Speakin’ of which…” Sallie May reached for her hip and caressed the sheathed knuckle knife at her side. “Perhaps Charles has some space in that militia of his fer one more?”

Elsie sucked in a breath, taking another swig from her mug. “No can do. Yer princess doesn’t want you anywhere near the frontline.”

Sallie May groaned. “Figured… Antoine! Get me a drink will ya?” The giant of a hellhound turned sluggishly towards the imp. Sallie May was surprised to see one of his arms bundled with bandages. “Woah! What happened?”

Antoine gave his bandaged arm a sheepish glance, eyes furtively roaming the slowly healing limb before falling back on the imp. “I was helping with the wounded during the fight at the Boarding house. Got clipped while pulling someone to safety.” He fumbled with a mug and some ale, slowly filling it before giving it to Sallie May. “Here ya go.”

Sallie May grabbed the mug and took a quick swig, closing her eyes as she lost herself in the rich taste and warmth of Antoine’s brew. She put the mug down before turning back to the bartender. “Sorry to hear that. Were you able to get back at ‘em?”

Antoine and Elsie shared a look. “Didn’t have to.” The bartender began. “Elsie finished him before he got another shot off.”

Elsie winked. “Brained the fucker with my tomahawk before he could take another chunk out of Antoine here.” She pulled the weapon off a belt loop to slam it down against the bar counter. Sallie May noted there were a few more notches on the hardened wood. The iron head seemed a bit more scratched as well. The hellhound looked down at the notches with pride, as if each one was a newfound achievement. “You missed out on a good fight, Sallie May. You would’ve had fun.”

Sallie May hid her disappointment by looking away, a hand trailing down to her side where a new set of scars lay. “I got my licks in at the farm, Elsie. That bastard Will got me good.”

Elsie rolled her eyes, trailing the rim of her mug with a finger as she turned away from the imp. “That’s never stopped you before.” She noted, leaning forward to see exactly how much of her drink she had left.

Before Elsie could ask for a refill Antoine put down a new mug for her, grabbing the spent one as he turned to Sallie May. “Enough about all that. Things’ve changed in town.” He put the mug down below the counter where Sallie May couldn’t see, turning to wipe down a part of the bartop. “Everyone’s been busy settin’ up the town for a proper defense. And what money they make is spent here.” His eyes twinkled as he thought about his newfound wealth. “I might actually be able to make a proper sign fer the damn Saloon now, not the shitty job I’ve been doin’ so far.”

Sallie May laughed. “If you do that make sure it’s fuckin’ bulletproof!”

The duo began to catch up as Antoine’s drinks made a mockery of inhibitions. Before long the imp felt a warmth in her core, and the world took on a certain fuzzy tone. Their loud talk and raucous laughter blended into the bar, becoming just one more part of the drunken ambience of the saloon. The anxiety of the last few days disappeared with every sip from her mug. Elsie swapped stories with her, the pain in her side becoming a distant memory.

Elsie put her mug down, punching Sallie May in the shoulder. “Alright, we’ve sidestepped it enough, cmon! Tell us about Stella. What’s she like?”

Sallie May sputtered, choked by her drink. She let out a cough before responding. “She’s in town every day as far as I can tell. Why you askin’?”

Elsie leaned against the counter, flashing the imp a toothy grin. “Cmon! The talks all over town! A noble shacked up with ya fer what, a few weeks?” Sallie May grumbled in her mug, correcting her that it was only “at least a month.” Ellie balked at the imp. “That’s what I mean! Come on, it’s not like any of us are gettin’ close to her, what’s she like?”

Sallie May rolled her eyes. “Stubborn as a mule, prim, and very particular in everything she does. She was a bitch to deal with that first week. But after that.” The imp stopped, staring into her mug. “She was somethin’ else. I… Dammit, Elsie, I can’t put it in words.”

Elsie raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like there’s some regret there.”

The imp rubbed the back of her neck. “Lets just say that we didn’t part on good terms. And we’re both too damn stubborn to talk about it.” The imp chuckled. “Not like it matters, I’m getting a few more drinks in me then I’m headin’ back home.”

Antoine whistled, his eyes locked on the front of the Saloon. “That might be a problem.” He pointed towards the double doors at Sallie May’s confused glance. “Looks like you’ve got a chance to make up with the bird after all.”

Sallie May turned to see Stella and Madam Lucia standing in the doorway of the Saloon. The Goetia was moving midstep, brow furrowed in a familiar pout. Her beak was opened in a sneer that marred her winsome face. But when the Goetia turned, she seemed stunned. The frown and pout disappeared, feathers and eyebrows raising in surprise. Sallie May mirrored the Goetia’s expression, straightening up in her seat as she looked at the demon she’d come to hold dear to her heart. 

Stella spoke in barely a whisper that made Sallie May’s heart soar with a paradoxical mix of excitement and dread. “You’re here.”

Chapter Text

Stella lounged in a chair, the bottle of cheap wine held in hand giving off a dull ring as she tapped it against an armrest. The slight buzz had given the world such a delightful glow to contrast the cold apathy that refused to go away. Stella growled, raising the bottle to her beak and taking another swig.

“You miss her, don’t you?” A melodious voice asked in front of her.

Stella looked up, unfocused eyes falling on Madam Lucia at the other end of the table. The succubus was a well kept beauty, utterly at odds with the rugged shantytown look of the ring around her. Richly colored hair and blue satin dress that flickering like flame given form whenever she moved. She was far too prim for this savage town, far too removed from the Wrathian lifestyle she decided to settle in. If the girls in the Sinner’s Kiss weren’t dressed similarly, Stella would’ve thought her a diamond in the rough. The Sinner’s Kiss instead felt like an oasis in the ring, a place of elegance that Stella could hide in when the trials of her situation weighed heavily on her.

But a good outfit and proper manners was no excuse for stating a truth she didn’t want to hear.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Stella growled stubbornly, bringing the wine bottle to her beak and reveling in how it made her senses dull. She kept tilting her head, realizing the bottle was empty. With a sneer, the Goetia let the bottle tumble out of her fingers. The glass made a sorrowful clink when it hit Lucia’s rug.

The succubus shot the bottle a quick, derisive glance. “You drank only a few bottles today. It seems we’re improving.” The succubus stood up from her chair, turning around to look out her window. 

Stella glanced back down at the empty bottle, the warped glass casting a kaleidoscope of colors onto the succubus’s rug. She came to the brothel for a different comfort, an opulence that sorely reminded her of home. Stella slumped in her chair, closing her eyes and remembering the dull pentagram of Pride, glowing warmly above the estate she called home. Her weeks isolated in Wrath had made a mockery of the once prideful Goetia. Luckily she only had one more loose end to take care of before returning home.

A pity that bitch of a loose end wouldn’t quit hiding, leaving them all stuck in some twisted limbo in the middle of nowhere.

“You know your drinks are the closest thing I have to high society here, Lucia.” Stella crooned, her normally sharp tone slurred and blunted. “The decor helps too. It takes the edge off.”

Madam Lucia’s eyes darted at the bottle. “Or it helps you forget about warm walls and warmer company.”

Stella narrowed her eyes, their pink glow growing more intense as she leveled her gaze on the matron of the Sinner’s Kiss. “Are you implying something?”

Lucia walked to the front of her table and leaned against it, matching the Goetia’s stare. They were almost at eye level with Stella sitting down and burdened by drink. Almost. “The Sinner’s Kiss specializes in companionship, Stella. Not finding wisdom at the bottom of a bottle.”

Stella leaned back and crossed her legs against the chair, the revolver at her side glinted a dull silver in the morning light. Madam Lucia’s eyes trailed down the glint of steel. It reminded the Succubus of her station. She was a lower demon, far inferior to the Goetia in power and position. For such an imbalance Lucia seemed undeterred. She was about to chide the Goetia, but the buzz of a phone on her desk ripped away both of their attention. Lucia turned away from the Succubus, bringing the phone up to her ear and answering the call.  After exchanging a few words, Madam Lucia put the phone in her purse and turned back to Stella. “I won’t stop you from wallowing in my office, or drinking more of my wine, you’re certainly rich enough to reimburse me, but perhaps we could look for a finer vintage at the Saloon?”

Stella craned her head to look at Madam Lucia’s wine closet, the once full shelf now derelict save for a handful of wine bottles Stella hadn’t yet touched. “Fine. Lead the way. I don’t have anything to do until Charles returns with the reports of the day, and Andrealphus is busy in the outlying farms.” The Goetia stood on unsteady legs as gravity grappled with her wiry frame. Her stagger was far less refined than the stately gait Lucia moved in as they left her office.

The duo wobbled out of the Sinner’s Kiss into Wrath’s sweltering heat, the bustle of the brothel disappearing behind its opulent walls. Madam Lucia thanked one of her guards as she was handed a parasol for the cruel desert sun. After a quick round of goodbyes they made their way to the Saloon.

The trip was quick and spent in silence. Lucia hummed a tune under her breath while Stella wobbled her way out of her drunken haze. Thoughts of home and lost love bombarded the Goetia with her newfound curse of sobriety, her feathers drooped and beak tightened into a long suffering pout. It wasn’t long before Lucia took notice.

“You doing alright, darling?” the succubus asked.

“What do you think?” Stella snapped, much to Lucia’s annoyance.

The Saloon loomed ahead of them. The weathered entrance greeted them like an old friend. The steps creaked as soon as they stepped upon it, and the dust caked windows danced with the shadows of revelry within. When Stella placed her hand on the double doors it gave no resistance, welcoming her in without a moment's hesitation. 

“Does the Saloon even sell anything worth drinking other than commoner drivel?” Stella grunted as she stopped in front of the swinging double doors, waiting for Lucia to catch up.

“That commoner drivel will get you drunk much quicker than the wines you’ve been downing in my office, Stella.” Madam Lucia retorted as she joined the Goetia in front of the Saloon. “Now, before you second guess yourself and leave, why don’t we head inside?  I’m sure Antoine has something tucked away in a dusty corner that might interest us. And if the drinks don’t suit you, this Saloon has a few other things that you might enjoy…” After collapsing her parasol, Lucia pressed against the doors to grant Stella entry.

Stella followed Lucia in, feathers ruffled with an annoyed huff. “What could the Saloon possibly offer me? Gambling and spirits? Don’t even suggest the billiards table, Lucia, there must be more refined ways to waste time here than to…”

The bandana was the first thing she noticed. A dash of crimson in dim light that hid the unruly black hair with white roots. Next were the striped horns, thin spires that curved ever higher with an almost stately grace. Finally, she saw the golden eyes and cocky grin that she had come to love more than any treasure she held. Sallie May looked as stunning as the night on the hill. She was speaking with a hellhound, one of Charles' militia. Her smile was brighter than Wrath’s sun, and her laughter more melodious than birdsong. Her wounds and the boarding house seemed like distant, bitter memories. At least until the imp turned, and her mirth was replaced with shock when their eyes locked.

“You’re here? I didn’t realize…” Stella took a step forward to hear it echo in the dimly lit bar of the saloon. She turned to see a sea of golden and crimson eyes pierce the saloon’s silent gloom, the many patrons watching with rapt interest. She couldn’t find it in herself to care. The imp whispered a few words to the hellhound beside her before turning and giving Stella her full attention. The duo were frozen at opposite ends of the saloon. Sallie May shined in the dim light of the bar, while the sun’s gleam wrapped around Stella like a halo. Both refused to budge. It was Lucia that broke the tension between them. She stepped forward, heels clicking on the aged, stained wood below.

“Take today off, Stella. Drinking yourself into a stupor isn’t going to do anything.” She walked towards Sallie May and leaned her parasol beside the imps stool. “You’re in my seat. Go, talk to her. Or at least get her out of my hair.”

Sallie May looked up indignantly at the succubus. She whispered a curse and hopped off the stool. “Dammit… Alright. Not like I’ve got much else to do today,” she grumbled.

Stella moved nervously, ruffling her feathers as the imp strode up to her. “So… You’re in town.”

Sallie May crossed her arms, looking up at the Goetia. “Andrealphus asked me to check out the barricades that’s been set up.”

“And the verdict?”

The imp glanced out the stained windows into the main street. “Not half bad. I’m not done though.”

Stella opened her mouth to keep the conversation going, but nothing came out. The awkward silence that followed seemed more tense than before. Conversation slowly began to bubble up in the saloon again, granting the duo some small reprieve from their shared embarrassment.

Sallie May sighed, stalking forward and taking Stella by the hand. “How much of the town have you seen?” the imp asked.

“The town hall, the Sinner’s Kiss, the Saloon…” Stella responded in a mumble that turned into a whisper as Sallie May’s expression soured.

“Shit. That’s it? Cmon, I’ll give you a tour while I finish checkin’ out the defenses that've been set up. I’m surprised you haven’t seen much of the town, considerin’ how long you’ve been away from the farm.” The imp offered, quickly making her way out of the Saloon. With nothing else to do, Stella followed.

Stella followed the imp as soon as they left the saloon. As they stepped into the sunlight Stella was surprised to find so little of the imp had changed. From her cocky swagger to her rugged clothing. The only changes was the knuckle knife at her side, and the new trio of scars that peaked out from under her belt. Sallie May caught her staring, then uneasily readjusted the hem of her shorts to hide the new blemishes. She couldn’t hide a near imperceptible limp, however.

Stella rubbed the back of her neck, normally confident tone absent as she spoke. “Have the wounds been giving you any trouble?”

Sallie May shook her head. “Sometimes…” She unconsciously touched her scars, hands trailing down to the hip of her debilitated leg. “But it’s not enough to keep me from showing you the rest of town. C’mon.”

An awkwardness hung onto them like a shroud. What would normally have been a pleasant surprise was replaced with a bitter reunion. Reports on the town's defenses were addressed and quickly forgotten, the duo trying to find a way to thaw the awkwardness between them. All to no avail. 

Sallie May kept walking, leaving the Trident of Pain behind them as she continued to check the rest of town. Buildings loomed around them, once warm storefronts now bristling with defenses and prepared for war. “It didn’t use to look like this, y’know? You’d be surprised at how much I wanted to take you here. But we had to keep you hidden.”

Stella chuckled. “Ironic that now I’m the one in town and you’re stuck on the farm.”

Sallie May rolled her eyes. “By your order, princess.”

Stella let out an indignant squawk. “Like I should apologize for giving you a chance to heal your wounds!”

Sallie May’s response was quick, spoken in a scathing tone that set Stella’s feathers on end. “That’s not why you had me locked in mah own damn house, and you know it!” The few townsfolk ambling around them quickly had places to be, ignoring eye contact and ducking into nearby alleys and stores. Stella looked down at the imp in front of her. A face she had come to hold so dear was turned to her with pure, unbridled scorn. Lips normally blooming with smiles was now twisted into  judgemental sneer. The imp stepped forward, jamming a finger hard into the Goetia’s stomach. “I did what I had to to protect you! Shit, I risked my whole damn family’s safety pulling yer half dead carcass in from the northern mountains! Do you know what I could’ve gotten fer ratting you out? That damn manhunt disrupted this town fer weeks, and every night I worried we’d be found out. But when push came to shove I protected you, and what do I get fer it? Trapped in mah own damn house like a favorite trinket!”

Stella bit back a curse, letting out a huff as she sat down on the dusty steps of a nearby patio. Her normal rage had long since been spent, replaced by a melancholy she wanted gone. “You remember our conversation before the gang hit the farm? About how I’m like my mother?” 

Sallie May’s mask of frustration slipped for a moment, the flame of her fury falling to a simmer. The imp derisively kicked a pebble into a nearby alley, gingerly sitting down beside the Goetia. “Yeah, I remember.”

Stella rested her head in her hands, unfocused gaze falling on the dusty road. “I wanted to tell you to hide, to let me deal with it. I had to decide between ordering you around and becoming something you hate, or letting you fight for me and get hurt because of my decisions.”

Sallie May huffed. “Like yer mother, I suspect.”

Stella’s beak pursed into a thin line. “Yes… Like my mother. In my one moment of indecision, I didn’t say anything. They almost tore apart the house because of that indecision.” Stella turned to look at Sallie May, three white scars on her midriff. “And when I finally got out of the cellar all it took was one second to distract you,” she whispered. Stella tapped her side, mirroring the trio of shots Sallie May took for her. “If those were a few inches higher, if Will had decided to aim in that one second, you would’ve been gone.” Stella’s let her arm slump beside her. “I meant what I said at the clinic. You’re more precious to me than I can put into words.” Stella sneered, turning away. “I hate how much you turn me into some… sentimental lovestruck dove, but I can’t bear the thought of living a life without you in it, even if it flies in the face of centuries of Goetian tradition.” She chuckled, a self deprecating laugh. “Satan, I sound like my bloody husband.”

Whatever burning fight Sallie May had slowly died as Stella finally laid her feelings bare. She had moved closer to the Goetia, and after the final confession had wrapped an arm around Stella’s midsection to pull her close.

Sallie May had pulled her legs to her chest, staring at the road.. “Life was the same thing before I met you, y’know? Ever since mah sister left I’ve been takin’ care of the farm. I just wake up, make sure the farm’s still standin’ fer one more day, go to sleep, then repeat. Sure there’s the festival, and there’s the occasional hunt, but that’s not really livin’.” The imp placed her hand on Stella’s, squeezing it. “Then one evenin’ I hear a commotion. And I just see you fightin’ fer yer life while the sun was settin’. Like some princess out of a fairy tale, way out of her depth. But those weeks after I saved you, seein’ you grow and learn to just… Live here in Wrath. When I saw you enjoy the things I’ve long gotten used to?” Sallie May leaned back, looking Stella in the eye as she let out a guilty laugh. “I think I started livin’ again. When that gang came up to our doorstep I couldn’t lose that feelin’. I couldn’t go back to just passin’ the days by.”

Stella looked down at the imp; the pall of depression lifted for the first time in days. “You know, it’s funny. I fell for you because you weren’t like all the other imps up in Pride. Or even the other Goetia. You didn’t let status define you, and now I’m trying to fit you into a mold we both know you won’t adhere to.” The Goetia combed her headfeathers with a hand, utterly at a loss. “What are we going to do…”

Sallie May leaned against Stella’s midriff, the Goetia in turn wrapping an arm around her paramour's shoulders. “Dammit, I gave my sister so much shit fer fallin’ fer some city boy, and here I go doin’ the same thing… We can’t exactly keep each other out of trouble, so why don’t we just watch each other’s backs? I reckon our lives would be simpler that way.”

Stella’s beak twisted into a pleasant smile. “Not a bad idea imp. Maybe we can finish checking the town's defenses before doing something else, though.”

Sallie May laughed. “Fuck that! The town’s fine, and if it weren’t, half the folk here are legion veterans or come from military families. They’ll make do. I wanna give you a proper Last Respite welcome! Really show you around town!”

The duo stood up, the imp already pulling Stella towards some unknown destination. “I’ll admit I’ve missed your enthusiasm.” The Goetia noted.

Sallie May laughed. “And I’ve missed yer company. Don’t tell mah folks though, they won’t let me live it down.”

~~~ ~~~

The winds that buffeted town hall kept away the worst of the ring's heat. The duo had decided to wile away the last of the day on a balcony atop the town hall. The tour around town was a quick one as Sallie May regaled Stella with old life stories at every other location. Minutes turned to hours, bleeding into a half remembered wisp of delightful memories. By the time the duo had made a circuit around town, they were both panting and welcoming the cold that early evening provided. They slowly made their way to the top floor of the town hall, lounging on a suspended deck that overlooked the rest of town. They enjoyed some drinks bought from Antoine when the imps phone let out a distinct ring. 

“Who’s that?” Stella asked, watching Sallie May stand up from her chair to receive the call.

“Just the folks wonderin’ where I’m at. I told ‘em I’ll be headin’ home late.” The imp replied. Sallie May had continued to reminisce on fond memories at the top of town hall, and Stella listened with rapt attention. “Now where were we?”

Stella shrugged. “We were in the middle of doing absolutely nothing,” she remarked.

Sallie May leaned back against her chair, grabbing the glass of brandy beside her. “Nice.”

Stella beckoned Sallie May over with a finger. When the imp walked to where she sat, Stella pulled her into a cuddle. The imp sat snugly against her lap, her back flush against Stella’s stomach. They both let out a content sigh, watching the sun fall into the horizon in gentle repose.

“I didn’t know you were a cuddler.” Sallie May remarked.

Stella rested her head on Sallie May’s, gingerly avoiding the horns that poked above her scalp. “It’s one of my better kept secrets,” she responded.

It was odd. After spending so long away from the imp, Stella didn’t quite want to let go of her. Not like Sallie May seemed to care. The two of them remained in that pose, letting the day pass them by.

“What’ll we do next?” Sallie May asked, breaking the pleasant silence between them. “After this is all over.”

Stella pulled away from Sallie May, resting her head on the chair’s backrest. “Well… I believe I promised to buy you a suit before everything went wrong.”

The imp cackled at the brazen response. “Shit, I’ll wear whatever the hell you want me to as long as I don’t have to pay for it.” Stella joined the imps' laughter with her own. Sallie May’s cackles dropped off into an entertained chuckle at Stella’s elation.

Stella’s laughter slowly died, Sallie May leaning back against her fluffy down. The Goetia’s smile died not long after. “I wonder what my family in Pride will think when they hear I’ve taken you as a consort…”

Sallie May grimaced. “I reckon we’ll both take a lot of flak fer that. If you decide to actually make this public.” The Goetia grumbled her agreement.

A dust cloud caught their attention. They both turned to see two vehicles driving down the lone dusty road that marked the entrance to town. The nondescript vehicles that Andrealphus had commandeered rode into view as they passed the towns outer defenses. Sallie May looked uneasily at Stella before reluctantly standing up. The Goetia let her go after a moment's pause, letting Sallie May out of her warm grip. She followed the imp to the edge of the deck to watch the two vehicles roll to a stop in front of the town hall. Stella saw her brother step out of the middle vehicle, a coat of frost forever standing vigil against the Wrathian heat. Andrealphus looked up to Stella with his characteristically calculated smile. For some it seemed to hold a malefic undertone in that thin twist of the beak. For Stella, it would always be a welcome sight. Andrealphus clapped his hands, and one of his guards exited the vehicle with a rotary phone that seemed carved from the same icy palace Andrealphus called home. It wasn’t long before Stella’s own phone buzzed at her side.

Stella brought the phone to her head, looking down at her brother with rapt interest. “I didn’t realize you were coming back so early.”

Andrealphus responded in an even, mischievous timbre. “I like keeping you surprised and alert, dear sister. Especially in matters of dire import. I see you’re once again enjoying the company of a certain demon?” Stella glanced down to see Sallie May uneasily staring down at her brother. “Tell me the details in a bit, dear, I’ll come up to you. Should I meet you on the deck or the office?”

“The office is fine.” Stella replied.

Andrealphus flashed Stella a brief smile before hanging up and stepping into town hall. Stella barely caught the surprised sputtering of Mayor Ox in the foyer before she turned to Sallie May. The imp’s hand rested on her belt, inches from the knuckle knife she so deftly used. Her eyes followed Andrealphus as he moved with a stare so intense it almost seemed to burn through the chilly cloud that radiated around the Goetia.

“You seem spooked,” Stella said.

Sallie May sighed, closing her eyes and loosening her grip on her belt. “Yeah, sorry. Yer brother really puts me on edge, princess.”

Stella stepped away from the deck, opening the door back into town hall. “He’s like that with everyone, don’t worry.” She beckoned for Sallie May to follow. When the imp stepped inside, Stella let the door close unceremoniously behind them. “Just be glad he’s on your side. He’s a tricky bastard when you piss him off.”

Sallie May huffed. “Sounds like you’ve been on his bad side more than once.”

Stella smirked. “Of course. I’m his sister after all. But that’s no matter, there’s nobody else I trust more. Now let’s see what my dear brother has in store for us.”

Her office was just as she left it. A small refuge of elegance in the rugged ring of Wrath. It held none of the gilt gold or smooth silver of Pride, but it would do. Stella pulled a seat to the other end of her carved wooden desk for Sallie May to sit in. The imp hopped into the seat, lazily leaning back as Stella took her own seat. Stella heard the hellhounds first. A handful of heavy footfalls walking in lockstep neared her door in a steady rhythm. The faint click of talons against wood came next, signaling her brother's presence. He knocked firmly, the hollow thuds coming from the door in an onerous whine.

“Come in.” Stella commanded.

The door opened to a dainty push from the blue-white Goetia. As Andrealphus stepped into the room, his guards fell in behind him. The hounds behind him seemed as cold and detached as their lord. They held little emotion, and barely glanced at Stella or Sallie May as they entered. Stella had to credit her brother, he did seem to always have the most well disciplined servants on hand.

Andrealphus flashed his sister a coy smile before taking a seat in front of her. “I take it the view from the balcony is rather grand? I took a quick glance of the countryside the other day. It’s quite pleasant considering the hovel we find ourselves in.”

Sallie May straightened up, eyes narrowing at the remark. “This hovel’s my home.”

Andrealphus’s smile dropped a fraction. “That goes without saying. A pity as well, seeing as how my sister has found your company quite enjoyable. I’m sure we can remedy this issue if this little fling continues into the future.” Andrealphus’s eyes turned back to Stella. “Although there may be some complications.”

Stella closed her eyes, letting out a deep sigh. “Not now, Andrealphus, please.”

Andrealphus paused. His gaze shifted from his sister, to the imp, then back to his sister. “I suppose any issues we have can be resolved at a later date.”

Stella slumped in her chair. “Does Charles have anything on our mother?”

Andrealphus shook his head. “Nothing concrete, unfortunately.” He leaned back in his chair and called out to the hellhounds outside. One of them entered, handing him a notebook before heading back into the hall. “But we’ve had some luck elsewhere.”

Stella and Sallie May perked up at that. The Goetia leaned forward against the desk, giving her brother her undivided attention. “What did you find?”

Andrealphus placed the notebook down. “Just rumors really. Some of the imps in the outlying farms speak of activity at an abandoned town north of here, near the mountains.”

Salli May frowned. “Shit… I’ll need a map but it may be the ol’ Mining Town. There’s places like that dotted all over the ring. This part of the ring is full of abandoned quarries, mineshafts, and the ghost towns that used to house the workers. I wouldn’t be surprised if they holed up there.”

“Well hold on now imp, there’s no way we can know that for sure.” Andrealphus advised. He leaned back against his chair, crossing his arms as he glanced at the notebook in thought. “Charles could send a detachment to scout the area. A small force, to confirm our suspicions and head back.”

Stella nodded, grinning as a plan began to form. “Sounds good. I’ll get in touch with the Sheriff.”

Andrealphus stood from his seat, pushing the notebook in Stella’s direction. “That’s good to hear, but it’s time I took my leave. I spent most of the day moving from farm to farm to see what it’s like working like a commoner. I’m not amused, so I’ll be heading to my room early. May I interest you in some tea tonight, sister?”

Stella smiled. “That sounds wonderful, Andrealphus. But you wouldn’t mind me taking some time to enjoy the imps company? It’s been a while.”

Andrealphus turned away, waving a hand dismissively. “Do whatever you please, Stella. I’ll see you tonight.” He smiled wanly before he left, waving as he headed for the door.

Stella returned the smile, waving as he left. “Thank you, Andrealphus.”

The door closed once more, leaving Stella and Sallie May alone.

Sallie May drummed her fingers on her armrest. “So, we know where to look at least.”

Stella grabbed the notebook, looking through the myriad notes written inside. “It would seem so.” Sallie May grinned and grabbed the notebook from Stella’s grasp, making her way to the exit while Stella looked on incredulously. “What was that for?”

Sallie May shifted from foot to foot, notebook hidden behind her back. “Cmon, best place to end the night’s in the Saloon!”

Stella rolled her eyes. “Oh please, like I’d waste my time there.”

Sallie May opened the door. “Madam Lucia spends time there too, y'know. She seems as high society as you are.”

Stella huffed. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Then quit draggin’ yer feet. Cmon, I’ll introduce you to some folk!” Sallie May waved the Goetia over.

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt… I still have time before indulging my brother.” The Goetia stood up, primly walking towards the imp with a nervous gait. “Lead the way.”

Chapter Text

Stella grimaced as she heard the hellhound cry out in pain. Barnabas’s howls and wails bounced against uncaring prison walls as Henry tried to break the gang member. The imp may have been old, but his hands were steady when he worked with fine cutting knives and torturers pliers. Stella grimaced as she watched the imp put down bloody instruments that sawed and sliced. They let out a wet clatter, dropping onto a stainless steel tray blackened with the hounds blood. Wrath’s sun reflected against blood pooling down a drain, prison bars restricting its cruel afternoon light.

“Ready to talk yet?” Henry asked in a bored rasp.

He stepped away, letting Stella see Will’s second in command for the first time since his capture. The hellhound was nothing more than bones and gaping wounds, now. Fur had come off in patches, the skin clinging to a frail frame. Haggard blood stained fur remained where wiry muscle and a luscious coat had once been. Barnabas spat a wad of blood at the old imp, trying to smile despite a bruised, swollen jaw, and missing teeth.

“You’re wasting your time. I won’t break to you.” The hound tried to laugh in the face of his captors, but only managed a weak cough.

Henry sneered, gripping the hellhound by the hair. “Maybe not, but it’s still pretty entertainin’ watchin’ yer bitch ass squirm.” The imp grabbed the hellhounds ear, scalpel in hand as he brought the blade to the appendage. “I reckon you’ll squeal somethin’ if I finally start cuttin’ off things that are important.”

Stella stood up, placing a hand on Henry’s shoulder. “You know this pain will end if you just let us know what we want to know. What loyalty do you have for that imp and noble anyway?” She stepped forward, caressing black leather straps that imprisoned the hound against an operating chair. “These look tight. Just tell me where my mother is, and I’ll loosen these for you.” She almost sounded like she cared. Almost.

Filmy golden eyes locked with hers. Barnabas returned her offer with a sneer. “I don’t talk to targets. We should’ve shot you in the head on that road a month ago.”

Stella nodded. “You should’ve. But you didn’t.” She turned to the torture tools beside Henry. “May I?” The imp nodded, stepping aside. They gleamed in Wrath’s crimson light, sharpened blades and savage hooks pleading with her to rend and tear.

She stepped towards the table, unsure talons gripping tools that smelled like iron and brought bile up to her throat. Her hands quivered as she took hold of a hook, its wicked point already stained black. Barnabas chuckled in his binds. Stella turned to see the shell of a demon with a bloody smile. He leaned back in his chair, shuddering breaths wracking a chest full of shattered ribs.

“What’s wrong, pretty noble? I thought you went native. Still can’t do the torturing yourself?” Barnabas pointed lazily towards Henry. “A month in Wrath and you still let the commoners do the dirty work for you.”

Stella growled and grabbed the hook. She raised it up to the hellhound. “I wouldn’t have to do this if you’d just fucking talk , mutt!” She stepped closer to him, hand trembling as she stepped towards her prisoner.

The unsure Goetia stood in front of a bemused Hellhound. She stood still for a moment, willing herself to tear into the hellhound with relish. She had massacred dozens of his compatriots at this point. So why the hesitation? Why did she feel utter disgust? Barnabas smiled wider at her hesitation. Golden eyes flashed with mirth, even as they swam with maddening pain.

“It’s not so simple, hurtin’ somethin’ not tryin’ to kill you, huh?” Barnabas mused. He shook head, disappointed, when Stella didn’t cut into him for his folly. “Easier to maim and kill when the other demon can fight back?” Stella’s grip on the hook tightened. “You know your mother wouldn’t have hesitated. I think if there’s one thing we can agree on, it’s that she’s quite the sadist.”

Stella growled, turning around and slamming the hook back onto the tray. Barnabas’s harsh laughter bounced within the cold confines of the prison cell. The Goetia turned to Henry, a weary expression on her face. “How long have you and Charles been at this?”

Henry grimaced. “Since we caught him. It’s been a few days at least. We should starve him at this rate, but I reckon we’ll just end up killin’ him.”

Stella sighed and walked to the door. “Fine. We’ll finish for today.” She turned towards the hellhound. “Consider yourself lucky, mutt. I find myself in a forgiving mood today.”

Barnabas let out a chuckle that turned into a sickening gurgle. “You just don’t have heart. If we killed that pretty imp of yours, I doubt I’d still be alive.”

His rasping laughter followed Stella and Henry as they left the room. Henry cleaned the tray and torturers tools, gingerly placing them back into a leather bag before grabbing the breechloader rifle at the side of the door. He leaned against the weapon like a cane as he walked out, leather bag forcing him to hunch to the side. Stella opened the door for the old imp, squinting through the afternoon soon pouring through windows in the jail of the sheriff’s office.

Henry glanced behind them with a grimace. “He’s tougher than most.”

Stella sighed, running a hand through sweat slick headfeathers. “He’ll crack eventually. Nothing we can do about it for now.”

Henry grunted in agreement as they entered the waiting room of the sheriff’s office. The duo blinked in surprise when they saw Andrealphus and his entourage crowding the small space. The Goetia languidly sat on the only couch in the room, his servants sitting primly in nearby chairs and his guards standing, rifles pointed at the ground. 

“... Now I’ll admit that tea offers a certain refinement yer highness.” Antoine began, wringing his hands and tail nervously tucked away. “But I don’t have a large supply. Madam Lucia should be more than capable of providin’ you with such delights.”

Andrealphus leaned propped his head against his hand, enjoying the hellhound squirm. “And she told me the exact same thing about you, after I found that her selection was less than adequate.”

Antoine let out a nervous whimper, before sitting down beside Elsie, not knowing what else to say.

“This isn’t Pride, sir.” The bouncer said curtly. “You’ll be hard pressed to find that shit in abundance here. Isn’t that right Sallie May?”

The imp had been waiting beside the door the jailcells the whole time, sharpening her knuckle knife with a whetstone. “Satan’s been on the war path, remember? We have to deal with material shortages, that includes things like tea .” She spat out the last word, a grimace marring her freckled face.

Stella cleared throat as Henry stepped into the foyer, the door slamming shut behind them. “Am I missing something?”

The buzz of conversation quickly died.

Stella glanced at the hellhounds, raising an eyebrow. “And why are you two here?”

Elsie leaned back in her chair. “Charles is on patrol so I’m on duty. If anythin’ happens, me and the deputies need to be ready.” She hitched her thumb at Antoine. “And he’s just here fer’ emotional support.”

Antoine snapped his fingers, ears pinned flat against his head as he pointed to the door. “He still didn’t talk?” Antoine asked.

Elsie growled. “Fucker didn’t talk when me an’ Charles worked him over.” She crossed her arms with belligerent force. “Wouldn’t shut up about mah fuckin’ hips though. Sleazy bastard.” Antoine pat his bouncer’s shoulder as she ground her teeth in frustration. 

Sallie May grimaced as she sheathed her knife. “So we’re still shit out of luck findin’ Will then. Great.”

Stella caught Andrealphus’s gaze. Her brother boredly twining a hand within the fluffy down of his blue fur collar. His eyes kept glancing into the hallway leading to Barnabas’s cell, before turning to the wrathian demons with barely restrained disappointment.

Stella raised an eyebrow at her brother. “Is something wrong, Andrealphus?”
Andrealphus’s icy gaze shifted from his sister to the demons around them. “I’m troubled by the lack of progress on that mutt you have locked in a cell, dear sister.” He crossed his arms as he spoke, blue fluff settling under his beak. “Surely it shouldn’t take too long to break him. He’s a mercenary at best. What’s keeping him from speaking is sheer stubbornness, not proper anti-interrogation experience.”

Elsie bared her teeth in a rumbling growl. “And I suppose you’ve got a trick or two up yer sleeve to make the son of a bitch talk, eh blueblood?” 

Andrealphus responded with a smug smirk and a wink, much to the hellhound's ire. “Why yes I do,” he spoke nonchalantly, extending a hand to inspect well manicured hands. “Something I’ve learned in business is that sometimes you have to convince your constituents to take a deal.” He glanced at his guards and servants, one of which held a leather bound book and a toolbag of his own. “My servants here can be…” He snapped his fingers, searching for a word that eluded him. “Very convincing.”

Henry sat down on a nearby chair with an annoyed huff.  “So why don’t you crack the fucker already? I figure we’ll end up killin’ him at this rate.”

Andrealphus let out an amused hoot, leaning back against his seat. “I just want to hear you lower born imps concede defeat. I’ve never seen a wrathian demon quit before.”

Henry cocked his rifle. Andrealphus’s guards had their weapons ready in seconds, rifles trained on the country imp in a heartbeat.

Stella sighed and stepped between the elder and her brothers hired guns. “Look, Andrealphus, can you get the information we need out of the hellhound or not? The faster we get this done the faster you get back to Pride.”

Andrealphus raised an eyebrow as he looked at his sister. “The faster we get back to Pride you mean?” Stella shrugged, still waiting on an answer. Andrealphus sighed and stood up. “Oh fine, I won’t dally anymore then.” He snapped his fingers, and his servants stood at attention. “Come along little ones. We have someone to break.” The imps and guards moved into the hallway in an organized line. Andrealphus moved to follow, but stopped at the front of the hallway. “Oh! I almost forgot!” He turned to the assorted wrathian demons in the buildings waiting room. “Do you care if he lives or dies?”

Sallie May shrugged. “Just get the info out of ‘em. We don’t care if he’s still breathin’ after.”

Andrealphus grinned. “Good. This won’t take long then.” He stepped away, closing the door to the hall behind him. His eyes flashed their characteristic sapphire as he shot them all a smug. “Oh, and don’t mind the noise.”

Things were silent for but a heartbeat, but Antoine and Elsie noticed it first. Nostrils flared at the stink of ancient magic, and ears twisted to hone in on the jail cell. It wasn’t long before the screaming started.

Stella and Sallie May sat together, looking at Antoine and Elsie with concern. The hellhounds quickly bowed their heads, ears tucked down in unease. They had heard the briefest of jeers first. Then came the screaming and the begging. They could all hear Barnabas howling on the other side of the hallway. Open weeping leaked through the closed doors, broken up by wails scraping against a raspy throat. Lights danced even this far into sheriff’s office, hellish script floating out from under the door like cinders from a sacrificial pyre. The minutes ticked on in an endless limbo, marked only by the ebb and flow of Barnabas’s howls.

It was only recently that Stella realized they now heard nothing at all. Everyone jumped in surprise when Andrealphus opened the door, pride and triumph on his face. He remained spotless, not a drop of blood on his shirt. But his imps came out covered in black. Their haggard gazes ignored the country imps as they were escorted outside, returning to their own lodgings that the town provided. Antoine looked away in disgust when the last of Andrealphus’s guards pulled a garbage bag behind him. He and Elsie covered their noses as it passed, turning away until the guards left.

Henry sighed and put his leather bag on his lap. “Looks like I won’t need this anymore.” He grumbled. “What’d you find out?”

Andrealphus leaned against a wall, pulling out a notebook that held stately writing. “A steel mill to the north. It’s by a town known as ‘Silverrock’.” He huffed. “Not exactly an inventive name, I’ll admit.”

Henry raised an eyebrow. “And you’re sure he ain’t lyin’?”

Andrealphus chuckled. “Oh I’m sure.”

Henry sighed. “Alright. We better start plannin’.” He turned to Elsie and Antoine. “Elsie, Charles is still out on patrol. I need your help in his stead. You too, Sallie May. Antoine, head to the clinic, and the Saloon. I want another inventory check on our supplies.” He turned to Stella and Andrealphus. “Nothin’ else to do now but plan an assault on the location. You two don’t need to be there fer that, unless you want to.” Stella and Andrealphus both stood up, the stately brother gesturing to the door.

“We’d rather be present. Lead the way, imp.”

~~~ ~~~

The Tridents Pain was equal parts armory and Information Center. Weapons of every variety packed the front racks and the storage rooms deeper within, with Henry’s former office holding a multitude of maps and scattered defense plans. The old imp cleared a table with a sweep of his arm, papers cluttering to the floor. He mumbled as he worked, grabbing a nearby map and circling The Last Respite with a pen. He paced in front of the table, old eyes singling out Silverrock and circling that as well. Stella, Andrealphus, Elsie, and Sallie May struggled to fit into the cramped room while the old imp worked.

“The town’s been abandoned fer years.” The old imp began, hobbling to a filing cabinet where he pulled out another map. “The town was bein’ particularly rowdy, you see. It was one of the first steel mills installed in the area, so they had a monopoly on steel production at the turn of the century.” The old imp was rambling now, pulling out random maps before shoving them back into the filing cabinet. “They got a bit too ambitious, tryin’ to strongarm the surroundin’ towns while undercuttin’ Satan himself with their business bullshit.” The imp chuckled. “Rumor had it they had ties to a few mafia families in the Greed ring. I figure yall already know what happened next.”

Elsie nodded. “Town on town feud, and Satan turned a blind eye.” She rested her hand on her hip. “Mama said we pushed from the South, Los Satanio pinched ‘em from the East. A few other towns participated too.”

Henry nodded. “Yep. Surprised the damn mills still standin’ if yer bitch of a mother’s usin’ it as a base.” He tipped his horns when he heard Andrealphus unamused huff. “If you pardon my speech, blueblood.”

He finally found what he was looking for. He slammed the filing cabinet shut with his tail, spreading another map atop the table. It was an overhead view of Silverrock and the steel mill itself. Sallie May sucked in a breath as soon as she saw the map proper.

The imp fiddled with her knuckle knife, face distorted in a frown. “That’s a problem.”

Stella turned. “What is it?”

Sallie May pointed at the map. “Steel mill’s set up at the base of a mountain. Silverrock is to the west of the mill, sure, but save for the dunes South and East of the mill, there’s barely any cover.”

Henry gave Elsie another blueprint, the hellhound placing it down beside the map of Silverrock. “The Mill’s also got a shitload of snipers nests if the gang members are inventive.” The hellhound marked out fields of fire on Sallie May’s map. “If they’re entrenched…” The hellhound and imp looked at each other with concern.

Elsie pointed to a storage unit on the Southwest of the property. “That looks like good enough cover fer an assault.”

Henry grimaced. “That implies we actually get that far. Nothin’ but desert beyond that, Elsie. It’d be a turkey shoot if we pushed from there. Unless we do somethin’ they don’t expect.”

Sallie May raised an eyebrow. “And what would that be?”

Henry shrugged. “Fuck if I know.”

Stella and Andrealphus exchanged glances.

Andrealphus shrugged. “Not a problem. I’m sure we can starve them out.”

Stella glanced back into the store portion of the Trident’s Pain, where a few machine guns were left partially disassembled on Henry’s counter. “Or we can riddle them all with holes.”

Henry grinned as he pointed at the centermost structure of the steel mill. “Maybe. We’ve got some explosives in the back. We can clear them out then push in under support fire.”

Andrealphus shook his head. “No. That risks killing Agnes.”

Stella raised an eyebrow. “It’ll hurt her, but it won’t kill her. As long as the gang and Agnes is dead by the end of this, I’ll be satisfied.”

Andrealphus crossed his arms. “I still have a use for her. Besides, if we kill Agnes then proper authorities will get involved. This no longer becomes some backwater turf war gone wrong, this becomes an investigation by royalty. Imagine what will happen if the royal families hear that one of their own was killed by commoners. I doubt they’ll be understanding of the situation.”

Elsie leaned against the table, whistling at the thought. “Alright, we’re not blowin’ up the whole fuckin’ mill. What’s our next plan?”

Sallie May grimaced. “Siege.” She turned to Andrealphus. “Were you able to get any information on what the gang has in terms of supplies?”

Andrealphus grimaced. “Not quite. You see, the mutt didn’t break till the very end. We promised him a quick death if he gave us the location. He complied.” His gaze fell down to the map. “Much to our detriment.”

Elsie crossed her arms. “They can’t have much. Silverrock’s been abandoned for how long? It’s not like they can scrounge for food in that abandoned town. And I haven’t heard anythin’ about raids on our outlyin’ towns yet.”

Sallie May hitched her thumb to the window, where the repairs to the Boarding House echoed down the road. “They may have been stockin’ up supplies before they abandoned their base here. And they can still hunt if they’re aren’t dumb as hell.” She glanced back down at the map. “At least if we surround ‘em, we can play a waitin’ game they can’t win.”

Henry grimaced. “Remember, Barnabas only said that the base was at the mill. Fer all we know their damn gang is spread out. We might get pincered assaultin’ the mill. If we get caught in the dunes we’ll be dead in minutes. If we’re stuck in the abandoned town, things’ll get ugly. Urban fightin’s a slow death, you know.”

Stella groaned, leaning against a chart filled wall. “Why is this so fuckin’ complicated.”

The wrathian imps all chuckled.

Sallie May sauntered to Stella’s side, holding the Goetia’s hand and giving it a squeeze. “This stuff is normally complicated. Don’t worry, we’ll find a way to break ‘em apart.”

Henry nodded. “Damn straight! It’s nothing I haven’t seen before. Give us a few days and we’ll have a plan to have the gang dead before the seasons change.”

Stella nodded. “Good… Good.”

Sallie May glanced up at Stella, squeezing her hand to get her attention. “Why don’t you head outside? Clear yer head. Get some fresh air. No point stressin’ over things you can’t control. Remember what you told me before I gave you yer revolver?”

Stella smiled, squeezing the imps hand back. “If a problem’s too large, break it apart.”

Sallie May returned the smile with one of her own. Crimson cheeks darkened with a delightful blush. “And this is a pretty big problem. Come on, me and these two need the space.” She tilted her head towards Henry and Elsie, the duo pointedly looking everywhere else but at them.

Stella nodded. “If I see Charles when he gets back from his patrol, do you want me to send him right here?”

“That’ll help.” Henry said gruffly. “Now go on, git. I need Sallie May thinkin’ straight if we’re going to figure out how to take out this fuckin’ gang.”

After a quick exchange of goodbyes Stella stepped out of the room. As she turned to the front door Andrealphus grabbed her wrist. When she turned his gaze was cold, almost alarmed.

“You don’t mind following me outside dear sister? There’s some things we need to talk about.”

Stella frowned. “I don’t mind. Lead the way.”

~~~ ~~~

Stella sat down on a nearby bench. Andrealphus languidly sat down beside her. His chilly aura a boon against the wrathian heat.

“I don’t know how you can stand it. This place is hotter than sin and smells like a compost heap.” Her brother grumbled, pulling off his sapphire crown to run a hand through his headfeathers.

“You get used to it.” Stella responded,, idly watching as the townsfolk went about their business. “I hate feeling this damn useless, you know. Agnes and Will are my problems, and I don’t even know how to take them out. Not without the others getting hurt.”

Andrealphus cleared his throat. “Stella. You know they don’t matter right?”

Stella turned slowly to her brother. Her eyes bored into him with an intense focus. “They saved me, Andrealphus. And they’re helping us against Will. They matter.”

Her brother waved away her argument. “You’re a Goetia. It’s their duty to save you and tend to your wellbeing. As for their feud with the gang, our interests align. Nothing more.” He gestured towards the dust caked town that was more fortress than home. “I understand the allure of a simpler life, Stella. I really do. Our mother indulged in it before cheating with purer blood, and your own husbands acquired a taste for the dreadfully mundane. But you?” He turned to Stella, beak upturned in amusement. He shook his head in a chuckle. “You’re too proper for such a weakness.”

Stella’s eyes flashed their rage filled pink. She stood up, looking down at her brother with barely restrained malice. “So what? We’ve seen where being prim and proper has got me. Miserable and in an arranged marriage since childhood. I’m happy for the first time in years!”

Andrealphus’s smile died on his lips. “You’re serious, aren’t you? You know this can’t last.” He shook his head. “Your husband is a social pariah, and Agnes is little more than tolerated in court. This mingling with the common folk is… obscene.”

Stella stalked to the wall beside Andrealphus, leaning against it. “Beelzebub is in a relationship with that mutt of hers. Why should my relationship be any different?”

Her brother scoffed, pulling off his crown and pinching the bridge of his beak. “Because Bee is a fucking sin , sister. They’re the undisputed rulers of Hell. And let’s not shift the blame. You were trying to kill your husband for the same infidelity you’re now doing.” He closed his eyes, sucking in a deep breath as he sought to maintain the calm he so primly upheld. “Look. We can rethink this approach, Stella. Regroup in Los Satanio and acquire a proper mercenary band to assault Agnes’s compound.” He placed his crown back on his head, smoothing out some headfeathers that had moved out of place.

Stella had begun to pace. Pink talons lengthened and shortened as she pushed down her rage. “We’d be abandoning the town to an assault.”

Andrealphus stood up, straightening his fur collar and sneering at the dirt on his suit. “This is Wrath, darling. I’m sure they’ll manage.” After stretching he turned back to the Goetia with crossed arms. “We know our Mothers location. I have transport out of this poor excuse for a town. Other than this fleeting affair of yours, there’s nothing keeping us from resolving this issue in a simple manner.”

Stella shook her head, grasping for straws. “The media fallout will make us the laughing stock of the court.”

Andrealphus rolled his eyes. “As if they’d learn about it. I’ll just mask this jaunt into Wrath as a sibling vacation from Pride. Perhaps looking for more business ventures while enjoying time away from court, hence why you’ve been missing. The media isn’t the issue, dear sister.”

Stella grimaced, then turned to the door. “I don’t have time for this. I’m going back to the Trident’s Pain. Perhaps Sallie May and the others have found a suitable plan to take care of Agnes.”

Andrealphus groaned, following after her sister with barely restrained annoyance. “Would you at least consider my option? You called me here for a reason. You needed assistance. More assistance than you realize if your attire is anything to go by.” The Goetia gestured to her Wrathian jeans and shirt as he spoke, voice dripping with derisive scorn.

Stella rounded on her brother, pushing his chest with an outstretched talon. Before she could speak, however, the both of them saw the thinly veiled looks of concern from the townsfolk. Imps and hellhounds, all armed, moving about their day furtively amidst the siblings’ argument. Stella stepped away from her brother to de-escalate in front of those she was supposed to lead. Andrealphus in turn fretted with his outfit as he followed his sister.

Andrealphus caught up to Stella, leaning his head in slightly to continue speaking. “Listen to reason, dear sister. This doesn’t have to be difficult.”

Stella sighed, glancing at her brother. “Can we not talk about this right now? Please?”

Andrealphus’s lips thinned, but he nodded to concede defeat. “Alright. We’ll postpone this conversation. Unless something else comes up.” Shouting erupted from the front of town, followed by the frantic blaring of truck horns. Andrealphus glanced sidelong towards the road. Concern quickly marred his face. “Speaking of which…”

A convoy of trucks rumbled down the road, followed by shouting from the front. Gunfire soon followed. The crackle pop of gunfire erupted like a lethal symphony at the front of town. Distant at first, but quickly getting closer. One of the trucks veered to the side of the road, parking a few feet in front of Stella and Andrealphus. Charles jumped out, blood dripping off a hastily applied bandage on his arm. The town sheriff shouted something at the driver amidst the panicked din. The driver gave the sheriff a nod as he sped off deeper into town.

Charles briefly glanced at Andrealphus before turning to Stella, golden eyes dilated from adrenaline. “Is Henry in The Trident’s Pain?” Caught off guard by the imps' directness, the Goetia nodded. “Good. Get to the Sinner’s Kiss. The patrols just got hit, and the Gang’s here to siege the town. I have a security detail at the clinic and The Sinner’s Kiss. They’ll keep you safe.” Before Stella could respond Charles had pulled out a radio, calling people and barking orders as he jogged towards the Trident’s Pain.

Stella and Andrealphus both exchanged glances before running after the sheriff. Stella didn’t realize her revolver was in hand until Andrealphus gave it a wary glance. She felt his judgment, his disapproval. Whatever annoyance she held quickly died when she heard distant wails of pain.

Chapter Text

The towns clinic had overflowed. The most critically injured demons were transported there on stretcher or truckbed, their wails and whimpers drowned out by gunfire and shouts from the front of town. As a result the Sinner’s Kiss had become an ad hoc field hospital. Stella could only stare at the juxtaposed carnage. Lush rugs were bunched up unceremoniously on walls, exposing hardwood floors scraped apart by the frantic rush. Rich mahogany furniture was soaked with blood as nurses and doctors did their best to sew and stitch what mangled demons they could. Stella was unceremoniously pushed out of the way by a duo of hellhounds pulling a stretcher into the main room, an imp with a bandage face moaning into the sky. Madam Lucia was in the center of it all, directing stretcher teams deeper into the cathouse or up to the second floor.

“... out of nowhere! Fucker’s took out Ben and Francis before we knew it.” Charles barged in from the front doors, him and Henry helping a hellhound limp into the building.

Henry lowered his shoulder, letting a tall imp cover for him and Charles. “I reckon the fuckers got ballsy, or they’re gettin’ desperate. It doesn’t make sense fer them to attack us now. They lose men fer no reason.”
Elsie responded as she barged in with Sallie May, medical supplies piled in a backpack and hefted under her arms. “That or they’re just pissed!” She turned to Sallie May, unsheathing her tomahawk with lethal intent. “Charles, how banged up are you?”

Charles glanced at his bandaged arm. “I’m fine. This just needs to get stitched.” He pointed to Sallie May and Elsie. “Head back to the Trident’s Pain and get geared up. We’ll be focusing on defense.” He turned to Henry. “Find Mayor Ox and bring him here.” The imp then glanced at Madam Lucia. “Is there anyone here in fightin’ shape?” Madam Lucia glanced around the room quickly, pointing out a handful of wounded demons. “Good. As soon as they can walk get ‘em armed. I want ‘em protectin’ the Sinner’s Kiss along with the security detail.”

Stella glanced at the carnage before turning to Charles. “What do you want me to do?”

Charles didn’t respond at first, grimacing as a hellhound stitched the ragged cut on his arm shut. “You?” The imp glanced at her and Andrealphus. They stood out, two rocks amidst the storm of wounded demons. “Find someplace safe to hunker down. Stay put. And - fuck !” The hellhound tightened the stitches on his arm, cutting off the thread. She gave the imp a thumbs up before quickly moving to another patient. “The gang’s attackin’ the north. I don’t know if they’ll circle around or not, but if they flank we’ll be in deep shit.”

Stella glanced at his arm, black blood caking crimson skin. “I can fight too, I won’t be a burden.” She offered.

He shook his head again. “I’m not riskin’ them takin’ you. They will push if they see you on the frontline.”

Sallie May opened the door to the Sinner’s Kiss again. She held two rifles, one of which she gave to Charles. “First checkpoints gone. Second one won’t last fer long. We’re settin’ up support elements at the front of town.” She turned to Stella with an uneasy smile. “How you doin’ princess?”

Stella grimaced. “Fine, all things considered.”

Charles wrapped a new bandage around his new stitches, grabbing his rifle and checking the magazine. “I’m heading out. Convince the blueblood to stay.” Before either of them could argue the sheriff was gone, lost in the haze outside.

Stella moved to follow but Andrealphus and Sallie May barred her way.

“I won’t have you getting your head taken off in a skirmish, dear sister.” Andrealphus grimaced.

Sallie May nodded. “Stella, I only showed you how to use a pistol. Sure, ya did fine back home and at the Boarding House but this is different.”

Stella sighed and crouched in front of Sallie May, standing eye level of the imp. “I don’t want to see you hurt again.”

Sallie May pulled the Goetia in for a quick kiss. “Just trust me, okay?”

Stella returned the kiss. “Okay.” She whispered.

The imp followed Charles out the door, leaving Stella in limbo. Andrealphus pulled Stella into an alcove away from the main floor of the Sinner’s Kiss. Frenetic cries and harsh orders became a muted din of suffering as wall after wall separated the Goetia from the pain of the townsfolk. Andrealphus dragged her through winding corridors until he found a small room filled by a table and sofa. Stella slumped on the sofa immediately, with Andrealphus following close behind. Her brother made a few calls as the duo sheltered in some forgotten corner of the Sinner’s Kiss. He hissed in barely restrained annoyance at the demon on the other end. But before long he put the phone down with a sigh of relief.

“Alright. My security detail will be here in a few minutes. My other staff will be safe, of course. They’ve hunkered down where they’re able.” He grimaced, shaking his head. “No matter. It means that all we have to do is wait.”

Stella nodded distractedly. Her thoughts instead swirled with a despairing storm of “what if’s”. Potential scenarios and disasters befalling Sallie May, the town, and her. She felt herself slouch under the weight of tragedy, feathers flattening flush against her body as her mind raced.

Andrealphus glanced at his sister. “It’ll be alright.” He began, rubbing her back encouragingly as he sat beside her.

Time became meaningless. Distant gunfire and screams swirled in some unholy symphony. Before long explosions followed as well, their rumbles shook the earth underneath. Andrealphus grimaced beside his sister. He was still her brother, though. He soothed the Goetia as best he could. Whispering half heard assurances amidst the chaotic din.

A knock on a nearby wall pulled the noble siblings out of their dismal reverie. They both looked up to see Antoine staring down at them.

He closed his eyes in relief. “Ah, there you are.”

Stella straightened up. “Were you looking for us?”

Henry nodded. “Ox wanted to know where you were.” He glanced to the side. “Henry pulled me and Ox here before joinin’ Charles. We don’t know how long this is goin’ to last. Charles recalled all surviving patrolling units, hopin’ fer a pincer move so we can surround and cut em down. But most of them are too far.” He leaned against the wall, ears pressed to his head in fear. “The gang has only broken past a few checkpoints, but I don’t know if we’re fine or not.”

Stella nodded. “So we should…”

Antoine shrugged. “All you can do is wait. Sometimes that’s all you can do.” He pushed off the wall with a weary grunt. “I need to help out, I need to pull more of our medical supplies out of storage. Ox and Lucia are in the main room.”

Stella nodded. “Thanks. Keep your head down, I think Elsie’s too busy to keep you safe this time.”

Antoine let out a nervous chuckle. “Yeah, I know.” He waved and exchanged a quick goodbye, leaving the Goetia to their lonesome.

The Goetia sank back into the sofa, feeling the same dread she felt in Sallie May’s cellar. Dread mixed with rage and self hatred, all stemming from a feeling of utter worthlessness. She heard frantic calls from Lucia every so often. Calls for more medical supplies or more beds. Andrealphus had stood up and leaned against the wall. His arms were crossed, fingers tapping an unsteady rhythm on his forearm. He let out a tut as he muttered to himself, sapphire gaze furrowed into an ugly sneer.

Stella blinked up to her brother. “Is something wrong?”

He gave her the briefest glance. “We can use this to our advantage as long as we play our cards right. This is the perfect time to leave,” he said aloud.

Stella lay her head in her hands, letting out a groan. “Andrealphus, no…”

“The north of town is the only part being assaulted. I have bullet proof patrol cars and trucks, and everyone’s focused on the fight. We leave from the south, circle around after a few miles, and hit Agnes while her main force is gone.” Stella was about to protest but Andrealphus held up a hand. “Just listen. If most of the enemy is here in town, then there’s likely only a skeleton crew protecting Agnes and Will.” He grinned, a plan beginning to form. “I can bring my security with us. Come on Stella, it’s two Goetia against a handful of imps and an old noble with no combat experience. This opportunity is perfect !”

Stella glanced up at her brother. “And what of the town?”

Andrealphus scoffed. “What about it? They will live or they will die. They’re imps and hellhounds . The commoners will be a buffer against Agnes’s forces chasing us down in our escape, Stella.”

Stella stood up straight, eyes afire with pink light. “They’re friends and family, Andrealphus! These imps and hellhounds are practically the family of Sallie May, friends and acquaintances all her life, and you want me to just drop that for the possibility of taking out our mother?”

Andrealphus pulsed, his own draconic form flaring for the ghost of a second. Sapphire eyes and blinding white feathers caused Stella to squint. “Yes! You love addled hen, yes! This!” He pointed to the hallway where the wails of the dying sang without end. “There is no better opportunity than this! You would have jumped at a chance like this ages ago.” He growled out an annoyed hoot, pinching the bridge of his beak. “What is keeping you here?”

“I have something to fight for!” Stella answered. She sucked in a breath, frustration at its peak. “I… I finally found something. Someone to live for. I…” She laughed nervously. A hand combing through her headfeathers. “I can’t go back to how I lived before, Andrealphus.” She spoke in a whisper, feathers hugging her body. “I can’t live under the shadow of my family’s decisions. I can’t just live life hating everything again. Not after this. Not after finding something better.” Stella looked up at her brother, weary eyes looking up at the only Goetia she respected and loved. “I need to take a stand somewhere. Like you did all those years ago. Is that too much to ask for?”

Andrealphus sneered at first. A wealth of emotions rolling in him. Then he closed his eyes, let out a deep breath, and opened his arms. “No. No it isn’t.” Stella stepped in, hugging her brother. He hugged her back, letting out an uneasy huff. “I’d be a hypocrite if I denied you that. Not when I abandoned you in mother and fathers clutches. If this commoner…” Stella flashed him a pointed look. “If this imp , if these people , are important to you. Well, as your brother, it’s important to me too.”

Stella pulled away, smiling slightly. “Thank you.” She pulled away, grimacing as another wail of pain snaked its way through the halls. “Come on. The town needs our help.”

Andrealphus sighed. “Yes, I suppose they do.”

~ ~~ ~~~

Stella and Andrealphus left their small outcove to find the situation of wounded demons had gotten worse. Through the windows Stella saw medical tents had been erected outside the Sinner’s Kiss and the clinic. Imps and hellhounds languished in the sun, clutching cuts and bullet holes and suffering silently. 

Andrealphus closed his phone as soon as they stepped into the main room. “My guards are helping with procuring the wounded, and the servants adept in first aid will be here soon.” He spoke uneasily. “I can’t believe I’m actually doing this.”

Stella gave him a grateful smile before glancing back at the room, surprised to see Antoine and Mayor Ox helping out with whatever first aid where they could.

Antoine waved away her surprised glance. “Nobody’s drinkin’ at a time like this.” He returned his attention to where he was putting pressure on a dressing that covered an imps cut forearm.

She turned to see Mayor Ox, sleeves rolled up over his elbows and old hands covered in sterile gloves and black blood. He was busy pulling out bullets from the shoulder of an imp, his patient wincing at the stretched wound and the probing medical tools.

“Ah, Antoine said you were here. As you can see we’re a bit indisposed at the moment, however.” Ox began. Ever the polite sort, he flashed the two nobles a quick smile before intense concentration overtook him. He gingerly pulled back his pliers, pulling out deformed lead from the imps shoulder. “There you go.” He grabbed a sterile dressing and placed it on the wound. Putting pressure on the dressing, he wrapped it with a bandage before pulling away and patting the imp on the back, warning them to keep from moving the limb too much. He turned back to Stella and Andrealphus with a weary look. “Please forgive me fer sayin’ yer highness. But I need you and yer brother out of the way while tendin’ to my patients.”

“We’re here to help.” Stella replied. Glancing around, she saw many demons left unattended. Those that could walk were shuffled elsewhere so that new demons could be treated. “If you’ll allow us.”

Mayor Ox raised an eyebrow. “That implies me givin’ you and yer brother orders, yer highness.” He glanced towards Andrealphus before looking back at Stella. “Are you both alright with that?”

Andrealphus looked down his beak at the imp. A quick elbow from Stella had the sapphire noble groaning. “I suppose this one time I’ll make an exception. Since my sister is so bloody adamant.”

Ox gave him a gentle smile. He glanced outside to see Lucia and some of her girls now tending to the demons outside. “Help the others outside if ya can, Andrealphus. Cool the air, help with water. And if you can, keep bringin’ in medical supplies.” He turned as Andrealphus stepped outside without a word. He glanced at Stella, changing his sterile gloves and washing his hands as best he could. “I don’t suppose you were taught anythin’ about first aid.”

Stella gave him a sheepish shrug. To that the imp sighed. He motioned for Stella to sit beside him and the stretcher he used as a makeshift table. It wasn’t long before a blonde hellhound helped an imp hobble into the room, the imp pushed a bandage against a bloodstained face and shattered horn. Ox called out to the hellhound, who gave a grateful nod as she limped towards him and placed the imp on the stretcher. 

“Cause of injury?” Ox asked.

The hellhound pulled away as soon as the imp sat up straight. “Grenade went off too close. She and a few others got hit.” The hellhound pointed to a handful of wounded coming in. “The ones that got hit the worst are at the clinic. Everyone else was sent here.”

Ox nodded. “And how’s the leg, Callie?” Ox asked the hellhound as he tossed a clean towel towards Stella. “I may be pickin’ out horn shrapnel and other things from the imps scalp. I’ll need some help here.” 

The hellhound, Callie, flexed her foot with a slight wince. “It’s doin’ better. Just a slight graze. Thanks fer the patch up, doc.”

Ox smiled as he cleaned off his pliers and a handful of other tools. “It’s mayor now, Callie. But I reckon that don’t mean much to you.”

Callie couldn’t help but grin. “It doesn’t.” She turned around, glancing at the door. “I need to get back.” 

Ox shook his head. “That leg needs to mend. Step outside and find a spot in the tents. When yer leg stops hurtin’ so much you can head on back. If yer bein’ real stubborn ask Lucia or Andrealphus if there’s any painkiller’s.” He turned back to Stella, some scissors in hand. “Start dabbin’ away at the blood, Stella. And be careful. I want to see what we’re workin’ with. I’ll need to cut off some hair before startin’.” Stella nodded, black blood staining the cloth as she did as bidden.

The hellhounds ears perked up. “Andre? The prissy blueblood?” A sharp look from Stella shut the hellhound up quick.

Ox nodded. “Yes, the blueblood. Now go on, git! I need to concentrate here.” The two demons shared a quick chuckle, before the hellhound left.

Stella glanced back at Ox when the hellhound left. “Doctor?”

The heavyset imp nodded. “I wasn’t always Mayor, you know. Now c'mon, pay attention. I need this imps scalp cleaned up as well.”

Stella and Ox quickly developed a rhythm. The Goetia dabbed at the imp tenderly, black blood wiped away to show crimson skin and shards of shrapnel and horn. Ox in turn cut off tufts of hair until they saw the extent of the damage. The mayor deftly switched from scissors to pliers, gingerly pulling out the debris from the imps head. The imp groaned under Ox’s ministrations, the mayor whispering soft reassurances as he continued to pluck at the imps head.

Ox saw Stella’s worried glance as he finished plucking out the last of the shrapnel. “Concussion. Sluggish, trouble concentratin’, and a dash of dizziness from the looks of the poor guy.” Ox turned away, returning with some medical supplies. “On the bright side, our boy’s injury is minor. But it’ll be a while before he shakes off his concussion.” Ox disinfected, cleaned, then closed the wounds before wrapping a bandage around the top of the imps head. “There we go.”

Ox whistled towards the staircase to the second floor. Poked her head out. “Do you still have room upstairs?”

Lucia nodded. “Yes. He’ll have to share, though.”

Ox pushed the imp up. “Get him somewhere quiet. He’s got a minor concussion, so keep an eye on him.”

Lucia called to one of her girls, the demon taking the stairs two at a time and bringing the injured imp upstairs. “Antoine said he was coming with more medical supplies. Said that Andrealphus was helping him.”

Ox nodded. “That’s good. Is there anything up there you need?”

Lucia shook her head. “No, we’re fine. If you need anything else let me know. I’ll have the girls look around.” The mayor flashed her a grateful smile before focusing back on his work.

He once again washed his hands in a nearby basin, grimacing at the brackish gray water. Stella in turn traded her dirty towel for a new one. The doors opened quickly afterward. Demons entered in duos, trios, or small groups. And each time Ox would pull one or more of them over, calmly instructing Stella on what to do while he did his best to fix and mend the shattered and broken. The imp worked amidst the gasps and tears of angry and panicked patients. Stella in turn dabbed away blood, cleaned blackened sewing needles and tweezers, and took medical supplies provided by Antoine or Andrealphus. During a rush of new patients the door opened, and to Ox’s surprise, and Stella’s delight, Andrealphus’s servants entered and got to work helping the townsfolk.

Stella hadn’t realized how long they worked until Ox stood up, straightening his back. Stella in turn sat by a small bucket of water, the murky liquid already changed twice with water conjured by her brother. Stella turned to see most of the nurses under Ox’s charge nervously waiting for the next wave of patients. They cleaned their hands and their tools, checking surgical staples, suture thread, and a wealth of other surgical supplies.

Ox scratched at his handlebar mustache, pondering the closed doors to the Sinner’s Kiss. “It’s suddenly gotten quiet. That’s not good.”

Stella stood up. “I’m going to check outside, see what’s going on.” She moved to the door, dimly hearing the mayor following her.

The wrathian sun glared on the tents assembled in front of the clinic and the sinners kiss. A veritable shanty town of recovering warriors. Stella saw Antoine washing his hands, with Andrealphus in turn busy cleaning a handful of towels and rags. As soon as the siblings locked eyes, Andrealphus’s eyes narrowed. Stella could almost hear the derision in his thoughts: You owe me, dear sister. She gave him a brief smile before turning to Antoine.

“What’s going on?” She asked.

Antoine turned towards the front of town. “I’m not sure.” 

Elsie hobbled into view clutching a bandaged forearm. “Got here a few moments ago. The gang tried a few flanking moves when our last checkpoint refused to buckle.” She tapped the tomahawk at her side. “I’m sending some patrols of our own into the alleyways to find our wounded and any stragglers. As for the front, Sallie May’s probably got a better idea of what’s going on than we do.”

Stella looked down at Ox, offering the mayor the radio. When he waved it away, Goetia brought the radio up to her ear and spoke. “This is Stella. The medical station’s gone quiet, how is the final checkpoint?”

The radio hissed to life after a few moments of silence. “All quiet here.” Sallie May responded. “Nice to hear from you, Stella.”

Stella smiled lightly. “You too. Is there anyone else that needs help?”

The reply was curt. “Some minor injuries here and there. Anyone too hurt to fight was sent back already.”

Stella glanced at Elsie before replying. “How about any back alleys?”

There was silence for a moment. “They pushed through?”

“No. Elsie said there was a flank attempt. It failed but there may be wounded. She’s sent some teams to look for them.”

“Noted. It should be safe enough to look fer wounded now. I’ll send the word out. We’ll have some folk comb through the alleys from our side. Thanks.”

The radio died with a hiss. Stella turned to the assembled demons around her. She gave the radio back to Elsie as she looked over the tents. Gunsmoke and fires rose in the distance. A grim pallor seemed to waft in the wind.

“I guess we need to start searching.” Stella whispered.

Elsie hobbled beside the Goetia. “I’m headin’ over anyway, in case you want to tag along.”

Stella nodded, turning and stepping back onto the road.The doors of the Sinner’s Kiss opened, Lucia squinting through the wrathian sun.

Lucia glanced at them with a recalcitrant air. “Some of my girls were fighting. I want to make sure they’re alright.”

Antoine and Ox had shifted gears, helping the nurses with checking the patients. The hellhound checked bandages and gave demons water to drink. Ox talked to the townsfolk with a soft bedside manner, his polite speech and portly smile pushing away weary panic. Andrealphus, however, grumbled obscenities under his breath as he finished cleaning a multitude of tools for the townsfolk.

Ox glanced at the medical tents, imps and hellhounds nursing their wounds. “I’ll stay here in case any more wounded come back. You have my number in case you need to get in touch right?” Stella nodded. Ox turned to Andrealphus and collected some of the tools, distributing it back to their owners. “Good. Me and Antoine should be able to hold down the fort. I’ll see y'all when this is over.”

~~~ ~~~

Dust and debris cast the wrathian sun in a haze. Stella walked behind Lucia and Elsie, glancing left and right for movement. A handful of the less wounded volunteered to join them, hefting their weapons one more time. They all scoured the aisles between buildings like scavengers, ducking through alleys and streets with weapons bared. One month ago Stella would have blanched at such barbaric incivility. Now she was walking amongst them, revolver in hand.

Every so often they would hear a wail of surprise or alarm. Two things followed. Swift gunfire, or cheers as a familiar face was pulled out of the rubble. There were times when the demons pulled friends and family out of the rubble, elated that they had survived. Many other times, however, Stella looked into the blank faces of the dead. Crimson and golden eyes stared into oblivion, clutching holes and cuts deep enough to show bone. Stella shuddered when she saw Lucia come across one of her employees, the succubus closing the imps eyes one final time.

A handful of gunshots echoed in an alleyway beside her, pulling Stella’s attention to the side. Elsie stepped out of the smoke with a smoking pistol and bloody tomahawk in hand. “I missed a few of the fuckers by the looks of it.” The hellhound growled.

Lucia hefted a leather bag of medical supplies, nodding quietly. “They won’t be a problem anymore, will they?”

Elsie holstered her pistol, wiping off the blood on her tomahawk with a rag. “No. No they won’t.”

It wasn’t long before a group of demons emerged from the haze of the afternoon. Weapons were raised, and many dove for cover. Stella held her revolver close, bracing herself against a makeshift barricade.

Sallie May’s voice called out over the smog. “If yer part of Will’s gang just stand up. Yer boys have abandoned you. If ya at least surrender nicely yer deaths will be quick.”

Elsie popped her head up. “Friendly!” She shouted back.

Sallie May let out a sigh of relief. “Fuckin’ finally. We’ve been combing through the streets. Guess a few of ‘em did get through.” The imp blinked in surprise when the Goetia stood up and gave a weary wave. “What in the seven fuckin’ rings are you doin’ out here!?”

Stella let out a chuckle. “Helping. Believe it or not.”

The imp gave her a double take, then let out a deep breath. “Well, as long as you didn’t get into any more trouble I can’t complain.” She chuckled a bit. “Have y’all found any wounded? It’s been quiet here.”

Lucia walked up beside the Goetia. Hand gripping her bag tightly. “We have.” Her voice was tense, brooking no elaboration. Sallie May and her entourage simply nodded. They had nothing but solemn understanding to give. “How is everyone at the final checkpoint?”

Sallie May rubbed the back of her neck. “I think we’ll need that medical bag of yers.” She responded.

Stella looked into the haze of dust. Makeshift walls rose in the dirt, and further away fires blazed like the entrance to a new kind of hell. “Lead the way.”

Stella followed behind Sallie May, the two groups now heading back to where the towns final line of defense held. Stella balked at the destruction. Of the previous checkpoints, only the final wall remained. And even that was a smoking ruin. A machine gun nest was blown apart, its remains littering its foundations. Sandbag walls and various barricades lay smoldering, bullet holes casting beams of light into the dirt below. The surrounding buildings that hadn’t been up-armored bore their own scars, if the bullet holes and smoldering fires were anything to go by. And oh… Seven hells… Stella grimaced at the smell. The gang had given it their all. Their bodies littered the street. They burned in overturned vehicles, or baked in their own blood under the hot sun.

A whistle pulled her attention away from the carnage. “Enjoyin’ the view?” Henry rasped from a building beside her. Stella looked up, a spider hole broken into a wall. The elderly imp stood up and leaned against a ruined window sill. “They pulled back all of a sudden. I couldn’t tell ya why. They would’ve broken through otherwise.”

Sallie May limped towards a nearby sandbag wall, slumping against it with her rifle. “They might’ve. But I don’t think they had enough bodies to keep pushin’.” She gestured to the carnage on the street. “Alright. Anyone got an injury that needs treatment?”

Imps and hellhounds popped out of the woodwork. Weary eyes and battered bodies emerging from the smoke and dust. Most of them, like Sallie May and Henry, had only scratches and bruises to be ignored. But a few were standing because of willpower alone. Savage cuts had blood flow stopped by hastily made tourniquets, and bandages from strips of cloth dripped black blood onto the dirt. Elsie quickly pulled them aside to be rotated out. Some of the less wounded of Lucia’s group in turn took their positions.

“You too, Charles.” Sallie May called out.

A grumbling came from a building beside them. The imp stumbled out, war weary and clutching his rifle like a lifeline. A bandage was hastily applied on his shin, and a tourniquet stopped the bleeding from his ruin of a left arm.

Charles caught Stella staring, and shrugged. “It’s not as bad as it looks. It fuckin’ hurts though.” He turned to Sallie May as he hobbled to the side. “I reckon the gang left because our patrols are only a few minutes out, now. They would’ve gotten trapped if they didn’t leave.” He slumped against a sandbag wall, head leaning back. “I just don’t know why they attacked. Why waste so many bodies to not break through…”

Lucia tended to the other injured demons before walking up to Charles. She let out a whistle, crouching down and checking on his shin before tending to his arm. “Maybe they just wanted to spite you in particular, you stubborn bastard.” She fiddled with the tourniquet, but a quick release of blood made her rethink that decision. “The blood loss would’ve killed you without this thing…” She sighed and got to work on the wounds. “So they failed to break into town, and their flanks failed too. I’m no soldier, but is it possible we weren’t their main target?”

Charles shuddered. “Fuck… Maybe.” He sucked in a breath as Lucia tended to him with needle and thread. He glanced at Henry. “What do you think?”

Henry shrugged. “I figure they’re desperate, tryin’ to pull off a stunt like this. It’ll bite their ass in the long run though, we know their location.”

Charles chuckled, glancing back up at Stella. “Looks like we’ll have this resolved sooner rather than later.”

Elsie leaned against a nearby wall, reloading her pistol lazily. “Well, the last of the wounded are headin’ back now. I guess all there is to do is to wait fer the patrols to arrive.”
Stella slumped down beside Sallie May as the imps and succubus talked. They both stared into the distance. Sallie May lamenting at the destruction of her hometown.

“I can’t help feeling guilty about all this…” Stella whispered.

Sallie May grimaced. “Nothin’ you can do to change it.” She saw the Goetia’s arms. Feathered forearms gray from the blood of the imps she treated, even if her hands were still white and clean. “You helped Ox and Lucia?”

Stella shook her head. “No, just Ox. Antoine and Andrealphus helped Lucia, I think.”

Sallie May leaned against Stella. Sweat matted hair sticking against blood and dust caked feathers. “Thank Satan this is all almost over…” Stella in turn wrapped her arm around the imp, pulling her close as they huddled against the sandbag wall.

Stella couldn’t respond. She just didn’t have the words. They sat silently, waiting for the patrols to finally return. A dust plume rose in the sky to signal their return. 

It wasn’t long before Elsie pushed away from the wall, concern in her voice. “How many patrols were there again?”

Charles looked up. “Around eight groups of five members. Why?”

“That convoy’s a bit too big for forty people.”

At the mention of a convoy Stella and Sallie May stood up, seeing a wealth of vehicles rumbling into town. Everyone’s eyes widened in surprise when they saw who were in the trucks and cars that passed. Families. Children, the elderly, and the ones that simply couldn’t fight well enough. Their faces were haggard as they passed. Charles’s patrols set up a perimeter as the convoy moved into town, reinforcing the defenders with their numbers.

Stella felt dread well up as the final truck rumbled to a stop. The hood smoked from a wealth of bullet holes in the engine and the sides. The engine itself continued to sputter and rasp, on its last breaths.

Roy slumped in the driver's seat. No more smiles. His shotgun was settled on the passenger seat beside him, spent shells clattering around his feet.

The passenger doors opened, where Tom and Martin jumped out. Tom’s rifle was slung over his shoulder, Martin’s thumper in his hand. Martin in turn sniffled, trying and failing to stop tears that cast furrows atop the hill of youthful cheeks.

Sallie May ran up to her youngest brother, hugging him close as he started to cry. “What happened?”

Roy tried to move the truck a bit further, but the engine died with a sigh. He let out a scream of rage, punching the dashboard enough to splinter the plastic.

“They fuckin’ took em! Blitzed the houseand started shootin’. Me, Arthur, and a bunch of the farm hands started to fight back but there was just so fuckin’ many.” He growled as he grabbed his shotgun from the seat next to him. “I saw it as we left. Shuffled mom and dad into a truck as they were beatin’ Arthur black and blue.” Tom sat by a nearby tire, eyes unfocused and lips closed in a thin line. Roy walked up to his brother and pat his brothers shoulder. “I should’ve stayed but Tom still doesn’t know how to drive and Arthur just pushed us in the truck and…” For a heartbeat it looked like the imp would break. Trembling shoulders quivering amidst closed eyes and shaky breaths. “They gave chase for a while. At least till we met up with everyone else halfway down the road. I guess anyone they haven’t killed is with ‘em now.”

Sallie May choked at the nose, pulling Martin close as their youngest brother started to cry into his sisters shoulder. “Oh…”

Stella leaned back, dazed. The life she’d built here was shattered. The reprieve from Pride had become a hell all its own, awash with blood and bullets. She closed her eyes as despair pressed against her with an all new intensity, reinforced by the cries of those she’d come to love.

Chapter Text

“Ladies and gentlemen of the Last Respite. This is yer friendly neighbor Will. This little dance of ours has gone on long enough and my employer’s patience has run out. So here’s the deal. All of our hostages for the Goetia yer harborin’. Bring her to us, and we’ll release yer families. We’ll give you till tomorrow to think about our offer. Any longer and we’ll start shootin’ them. The youngest ones first… Pleasure doin’ business with you.”

Stella huddled in a corner alongside her brother, beak shut at the whirlwind of emotions in front of her. Sallie May paced in front of a table amidst the crowded confines of the town hall, billowing like a beast of burden and white knuckling the handle of the blade sheathed at her side. Around her demons were in much the same state, weapons held close and glowing eyes fueled by rage and battle lust. Golden eyes and crimson irises burned into the map of Silverrock and the refinery that lay on a table at the center of the room.

Ox wiped sweat off his brow, his top-hat askance as he spoke in mollifying tones. “Now everyone, remember, we can’t just blow the place apart. They have hostages.”

The enraged clamor buffeted him like the ocean tide, howls and roars for blood and violence a deafening cacophony in the cramped confines of the town hall.

Lucia slammed her fist on the table holding the map. “If we don’t have a plan we’ll end up littering the sands with bodies. At least half our fighting force is either dead, recovering, or captured. We need a plan if there’s any chance of getting them back!”

Henry hobbled up to the map. “The Madam’s right.” He pointed at the dunes, then the Mill itself. “If we charge in we’ll just be cut down by whatever they’ve set up atop the Steel Mill.” He pointed to the town of Silverrock itself. “We also don’t know if they’ve occupied the town proper.”

Sallie May pointed at the town, finger stabbing into the parchment. “We don’t have time to plan. We’ve only got till tomorrow morning before they start shootin’ folk. We should blitz while they’re still recoverin’.”

Charles limped forward, placing a hand on the imps shoulder. “They had time to prepare for this while we were busy lookin’ for them. They’ll be waitin’ for us, Sallie May. You know that.” He pointed to the dunes directly south of the Mill. “They’ll likely have the hostage exchange here. No cover, no tricks. That limits where we can push. And I doubt they’ve left anywhere unfortified.” He grimaced. “This isn’t a problem we can just brute force our way through. Much as I hate to admit it.”

Sallie May let out a growl, roughly pulling her shoulder away from Charles’s grip. “There has to be something we can do!”

Stella sighed, standing up and walking up to the imp. She crouched in front of the imp, looking her paramour in the eye and stopping her frenetic pacing. “Come on. Why don’t we step outside? Nobody can plan a proper assault without a clear head.”

Sallie May glanced back to the room and the maps, smoldering gaze clouded by tortured thoughts. She stepped away from the table, storming out of the hall with clenched fists. 

Charles combed his hand through his hair. “Thanks, Stella. We’ll be wastin’ time if we keep tryin’ to calm down angry locals like that. Go ahead and join her. Satan willin’, we’ll have a proper plan set up in the next few hours.”

Stella turned to Charles, seeing a sea of worried faces behind him. “We’ll get them back, Charles. All of ‘em.”

The imp smiled wanly. “We will. Just gotta figure out the how.”

Ox rapped his hand against the table, grabbing everyone's attention. “That goes fer anyone else. The situation’s delicate enough. If yer too pissed to think straight head outside and blow off some steam. We’re all hurtin’ but we need clear heads fer this. Nobody will disparage you if you step out. Not tonight, at least.”

Stella turned and followed Sallie May out of the hall, gently pushing open the rickety doors. A sea of demons followed her. Gaunt faces and thinly pressed lips stalking towards the door like a funeral procession. She propped the door open and stepped out of the way. There were a handful of “thank you’s” dispersed in the crowd. But most just wandered into the dark winds of the night, dazed and soulless as they dispersed throughout town. 

Sallie May sat by the curb, legs hugged to her chest. A flickering street light lit a trail of tears glistening down her face. She glanced up as Stella stepped up beside her, quickly looking to the side and wiping damp eyes against her arm. She’s a shell of her former self. Stella thought. Like a ghost. She sat down beside the imp, pulling her close. Sallie May didn’t resist, resting her weight against the Goetia. They stared at the dust-caked street together, watching as neighbors and friends wandered through the town like the lost and damned.

“I should have been there.” Sallie May whispered softer than death’s last breath. “I wasn’t there when the beasts raided.” Her voice broke. Her head drooped, resting against her knees. “Then I was stuck here when Will and the gang attacked. And now I-.”

Stella softly shushed the imp. She shook her head when the imp looked up, intertwining their hands together and giving her paramour a gentle squeeze. “It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known.”

Sallie May rested her head against the downy fluff poking out of Stella’s collar. The Goetia never realized how small Sallie May was. This was the first time the imp seemed so vulnerable. Everyone had a limit, even those with the strongest of wills.

“My sister would’ve figured somethin’ out.” Sallie May laughed. “She always did.” Sallie May suppressed a shiver, self deprecation making Wrath’s heat feel cold. “She’s the only one that got out of this dust bowl of a town, you know.”

Stella sighed, turning the imp’s head up to look at her. “But might’ve, she’s not here. You did the best you could. You helped defend the town, don’t forget that.”

“At the cost of my family.” Sallie May looked away from the noble, shutting eyes full of sorrow. “It’s a bad trade.”

Stella placed her hand on Sallie May’s cheek. “Sallie May. You’re not alone anymore, remember? You’ve got me. You’ve got the whole town. It’s not just your family held hostage now. Everyone has somebody they love under the gang’s clutches.” The Goetia balled her fists for a moment, beak twisted into an ugly sneer. “I’m angry too, but it helps nobody getting angry without pushing for a proper solution.” Her beak pressed into a thin line as she spoke, concerned look reflected in the imps golden eyes. “It’s okay to be angry. But anger that goes nowhere will fester. Anger without direction does nothing.” Stella laughed, shaking her head. “Believe me, I know what it’s like. Even when it’s so fucking frustrating. But…” The Goetia’s hand bloomed white in a flash. White of feather and pink of talon becoming a blinding reflection of her demonic form. “Anger towards a goal… That gets results.”

Sallie May closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. The imp’s frenetic heartbeat began to slow after a while, its thundering tempo becoming a calm beat against Stella’s chest. “...Okay. So what do we do?”

Stella let her blinding feathers lose their luster, glancing back at the imp. “You have some of the rings toughest imps in the town hall. Legion veterans and demons with various skillsets. Let them form a plan, put those skills to good use.” The Goetia stood up, extending a hand to the imp she’d come to love and admire. “And find a way to get Will’s head on a pike.”

The imp looked at the Goetia’s hand, then took it. “Alright. No more mopin’ about. Yer brother’s rubbin’ off on you. Talkin’ me out of my bullshit like that.”

Stella’s beak spread into a grin, something Sallie May mirrored. “He’d consider that a compliment, you know.”

The door to the town hall creaked open. Another wave of demons stepped out, but they were far different from their despondent kin of a few moments ago. Jaws were set, fists clenched and shoulders hunched as demons stormed towards the armory or the Saloon. Stella and Sallie May were surprised to see Roy amongst the group. The normal mischief in the imp was gone, replaced by piercing eyes and a permanent frown. When he locked eyes with Sallie May he gestured her over.

“Charles and Henry have a battle plan that might actually work. They’re ironin’ everythin’ out now. But they had a special thing in mind fer you and a few others. Pick anyone you trust, then head over to the Trident of Pain.” 

Sallie May’s sorrow disappeared in a blink. She stood up, placing a hand on her brother’s shoulder. “You’re joinin’ this operation?”

Roy stared his sister down, mirth all but gone. “Tom’s a crack shot and can protect Martin now. There’s no chance in the seven fuckin’ rings that I’m not joinin’ the charge.”

Sallie May pursed her lips. “Alright. I’ll see you at the armory.” She flashed Stella a wan smile, then stepped into the darkness of night.

Roy turned to Stella. “You wouldn’t mind checkin’ on Tom and Martin?”

Stella stood up. “No. Why?”

He pulled out a set of keys as he walked towards the Trident of Pain. “Me and Sallie May already talked to ‘em. But we may be a bit… Busy fer a while. I just want to make sure they’re safe before we go. They should be at the Saloon with Antoine and Elsie.”

The imp left without any further elaboration, following in his sister's wake. Stella watched them leave, an odd sense of foreboding mixing with the general melancholy of the last few hours. She turned around to peek into town hall. Only a handful of demons surrounded the table of maps now. She heard the murmur of conversation, but only whispers reached her ears, details lost to the winds. She pulled away with a sigh and made her way to the Saloon.
Tents littered the road leading to the Saloon. Shadows danced behind the cloth, flickering candlelight illuminating the broken and the scared. The Goetia tenderly walked through the sea of tents, glancing at the Saloon whose lights beckoned like a beacon of safety against the night. Stella stepped towards the swinging doors and tenderly pushed them open. Stepping inside granted her a chilly reprieve from the heat as she saw a wealth of fans blowing in the edges of the main room. Tables and chairs had been collapsed against the wall or pushed into storage, leaving the room clear. Instead she saw most of the farmers displaced by Will during the siege. Broken families huddled close together. The elderly shivered in the far corners of the room, skinny and weak demons whispering in furtive tones. The children stared at the floor with hollow eyes, some of them protected by nobody else but a family friend to keep them company. And scattered around were familiar faces from The Sinner’s Kiss. Wounded demons that gave her grateful nods amidst their living tombs of casts and bandages. There aren’t that many uninjured adults here… Just the young and old… Stella waded through the crowd towards the bar.

Stella found Tom and Martin by the bar. Tom’s lever action rested at his side, bandolier worn tight from shoulder to hip. Antoine was talking with Tom, the imp sipping fruit juice from one of the hellhounds mugs. Elsie was busy entertaining Martin, the two of them playing a game Stella couldn’t quite see.

“How are you two holding up?” Stella asked as she stepped up to the two imps.

Tom looked up at Stella, smiling despite the heavy bags under his eyes and the droop of his shoulders. “We’re fine, thanks.” Tom said, clutching his mug in his hand.

Antoine pushed away from the bar as he saw Stella approach. “Me and Elsie have been keeping them company. Do you want anythin’ to drink?” He turned towards the wines under the counter at Stella’s request, filling a glass with a rich red wine and placing it on the bartop. “On the house. I’d rather not make a pretty penny on people’s sufferin’.”

Stella took the drink and placed some souls down on the counter anyway, the rich wine turned the day’s stress into a vague buzz simmering at the back of her head.

Elsie glanced up from her game with Martin. “How’s the plannin’ at Town Hall goin’?”

Stella’s grip on the wine glass tightened. She took a dainty swig from the glass before shaking her head. “It could be going better,” she admitted. “But they’re making progress.”

Elsie’s ears drooped. But she quickly hid her disappointment as she turned to Martin. “Well, I’m sure they’ll figure somethin’ out. Isn’t that right, champ?” Martin’s enthusiastic thumbs up was answer enough.

Tom’s smile disappeared, the imp hiding his grimace with a swig from his mug. “They’ll figure somethin’ out alright.” He whispered. “I figure this whole situation will resolve itself by this time tomorrow. One way or another.”

Stella blinked, glancing down at Tom. “What do you mean?”

Tom’s eyes bored a hole into the counter, grip tightening on the mug. “We’re down to half strength, but Will probably has far less men than us. Most of the gang is probably wounded. This would’ve been an advantage if they weren’t in a fortified position.”

Stella grimaced. “You know where they are?”

“I got a glance of the maps at the Trident of Pain before Henry moved everythin’ to town hall.” He glanced up at Stella, then Antoine, speaking in a whisper soft enough so Martin wouldn’t hear. “Fact is, we either dislodge Will and get our people back, or they gun us all down by tomorrow’s end. Folk like that don’t just let hostages free.”

Stella and Antoine shared a worried glance. Elsie’s ear twitched as well. Her hand snaked down to her tomahawk, grasping the head reassuringly.

Seems like she heard Tom too.

Stella pat Tom’s shoulder. “We’ll find a way to sort this out, don’t worry.” Her eyes narrowed. “You’re right, though. This all ends tomorrow. One way or another.”

Small talk opened up after a moment of silence. They spoke of everything and nothing at all, pointedly avoiding the dread promise of tomorrow. Eventually their interest fell on Martin and Elsie’s card game. It was a card battler, -as Tom so eloquently put it-, nuanced in its rules but enjoyable to watch nonetheless. The dulcet strings of a guitar pulled everyone’s attention to the edge of the bar. A blonde hellhound began a lingering tune, promising happiness and distraction like the silky caress of a lover. She gave everyone a sheepish smile as she fretted over her bandaged leg. She grabbed the acoustic guitar again, notes bubbling away as she turned tuning pegs and plucked at strings.

Tom turned away from the card game, glancing at the hellhound strumming on the acoustic. “You know, if you’re good with improv, there’s a piano here you can play. The kids would enjoy a good ditty or two, at least.”

Stella rubbed the back of her head. “With this many people around?”

Tom laughed. “You’ll be fine.” He pointed towards a player piano at the end of the room. The keys were dusty, the instrument forgotten and forlorn. “Go ahead, give it a spin.”

Stella stepped away from the bar with drink in hand, moving towards the piano. The hellhound’s idle strums and tuning followed her as stray notes came to her unbidden. She sat down at the piano with a grunt, belting out a handful of notes. She blinked in surprise.

The piano was still in tune, despite its long neglected shell.

She experimentally played a trill of notes. They rang in the air, bringing a smile to her face. Someone touched her shoulder, and she turned to see the hellhound from earlier.

Stella blinked. “Callie, right?”

Callie nodded with a smile. “I didn’t think you’d recognize me, considerin’ all the folk that you helped Ox treat.” She gestured to the piano. “You know how to play?”

Stella glanced down at the ivory keys. “Yes. It’s been a while since I played in front of a crowd though.”

Callie grinned. “Same here. Not like that’s stopped me before, though.”

Stella couldn’t help but laugh, beak curling into a smile. “Well… Tom’s family taught me a few songs from Wrath, but I may have to improv some parts.”

Callie grabbed a stool from the bar and pulled it over. “That’s fine. We’ll start with the songs you know, cheer these folk up a little.” The hellhound settled on a jaunty tune, on a chord everyone knew. “Ready?”

Stella responded by playing the ivory keys, twinkling notes bubbling up from the piano’s rustic wood. “Go ahead.”

Notes bubbled away from the acoustic’s wooden body, bawdy twangs and sinuous melodies dispelling the tension and pall of despair in the Saloon. The piano joined it moments later, the impromptu duet breathing life into the crowded room.

It was during one of the songs native to Wrath, played in city bar and frontier bonfire, that something changed in the saloon. The air shifted from quiet despair to a tangible hope. Someone began to sing. Stella didn’t know who, or where. But before long young and old took up what lyrics they knew. Folk songs older than time sang with their silent solemnity, or the pop songs of yesteryear sung with the bubbly elation of the young. Stella found herself smiling after a while. Although she didn’t know if it was from the infectious mood of the room or if it was because Antoine kept refilling her glass of wine. A cursory glance over her shoulder showed faces briefly alight with smiles.

Townsfolk she barely knew did the best they could with what they had, even if they didn’t know if their loved ones would live tomorrow or not.

Stella set her jaw, the thought causing her to stumble in her playing. She had to make sure those deaths never happened.

It was while she and Callie were playing a rather bawdy tune that Charles poked his head into the Saloon. Limping his way towards the piano, he waved at the people he knew before eventually settling down beside Stella.

Elsie walked up to the sheriff. “How’s yer arm and leg?”

Charles let out a weary sigh. “I’ll make due.” He turned to the Goetia. “You don’t mind me borrowin’ Stella fer a moment, do you?”

She shook her head. “Nah.”

Stella stood up from the piano, glancing back into the Saloon. All the mirth was gone now. Sucked away as soon as Charles opened the door. She looked away from the hopeless gazes.  “Lead the way.”

Stella and Charles weaved through the crowd in the Saloon before walking past the sea of tents. Stella saw Andrealphus leaning on a nearby wall. Her brother gave her a wave when they walked closer.

“I take it we have a plan for Silverrock?” Stella asked.

Andrealphus and Charles shared a look. “Somethin’ like that,” Charles said. “We already briefed Sallie May and Roy on their part of the plan. Henry’s goin’ to speak to Elsie in a bit. Speaking of which…” The imp gestured behind Stella’s shoulder. She turned to see Elsie had furtively left the Saloon as well, making her way to the Trident of Pain in the darkness.

Stella watched the hellhound leave. “Has Roy left yet?”

Charles shook his head. “Not quite, but I don’t think you’ll be able to get in touch with him before he leaves. Why?”

“I just wanted him to know Tom and Martin will be fine.”

The imp sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll radio it in.”

Andrealphus pushed himself off the wall, grabbing Stella’s attention. “The commoners made an assault plan that didn’t sound utterly mad. Something simple enough to execute with easy to understand protocols if things go wrong. There’s just two variables that we have no control over. Sallie May is taking care of the first variable. The second one, however…” 

Stella matched her brother’s gaze, eyes narrowing. “You need me to do something, don’t you?”

Charles nodded. He grimaced as he spoke. “Yep. Hit the nail on the head. The problem is, it’s not exactly ideal in your case. We just want to know if you trust us.”

Stella raised an eyebrow, looking at the imp and her brother. “Is there a guarantee that what I do will end this fiasco once and for all?”

Charles met her stare for stare. “It will. We can’t afford to fail.”

Stella nodded in approval. She glanced back to the Saloon, listening to the silence inside. There were people she cared about in there now.

She turned back to Charles, pink eyes filled with hatred and determination. “Let’s head to town hall. Tell me what you need.”

Chapter Text

Tight were the ropes that bind, the blessed cord holding her arms to her sides. Their cursed holy light cast the desert sands in a sickening off-white glow, even as the rest of it was shrouded in the darkness of early morning. Charles held the other end of the rope. He dragged his leg behind him in the shifting sands, occasionally pulling at her binds as he lost balance. The Steel Mill loomed in front of them, a foreboding beast of rusted steel and chipped concrete. To their left the town of Silverrock lay derelict. A ghost town of skeletal houses and collapsed walls. An engine died behind them. Stella turned to see the sputtering of the truck they drove fall silent in the twilight. Andrealphus stepped out of the truck before he cut the lights, shrouding them all in darkness once more.

Charles hobbled up the sand done to stand beside Stella. “They’re takin’ their sweet ass time,” he grunted.

Stella refused to respond, beak pressed shut in a tight grimace. Thinly slit eyes stared at the dark windows of the steel mill. A solitary light winked on in one of the tall spires of the building complex, shadows scampering within and casting long shadows across the early morning sands.

The telltale hum of a phone buzzing caught their attention. “There they are. It took them long enough.” Andrealphus growled as he answered the call and put it on speaker.

Will’s voice rang harsh from the phone’s speaker. “We didn’t think you’d actually bite. Too bad, we were just ‘bout to start usin’ some of our prisoner’s for target practice.” There was a cruel mirth in his voice. “And what’s the other Goetia doin’ here anyway?”

Andrealphus sneered, beak pressed shut in annoyance. “I’m simply here as an intermediary between the two parties. My allegiances notwithstanding.” He glanced towards his sister. “Family ties should never get in the way of a good business deal, after all.”

Will’s retort was interrupted by a harsh voice from within. Feminine. Dripping with malice and spite.

Agnes’s voice grated in the morning air. “We’re not listening to your silver tongue, not when we hold leverage. Have that imp bring your failure of a sister to me or I’ll have these vermin kill you, too.”

Andrealphus stepped towards the sheriff and his bound sister, but a shot rang through the air. A bullet lodged itself in the dirt, kicking up a plume of dust mere inches from where Andrealphus was about to step.

“Ah ah ah. One Goetia that’s bound is enough of a risk. If we’re doin’ this trade we’re doin’ it our way.” There was some murmuring on Will’s side of the call. Barked orders that implied patience worn far too thin for the gang imps liking. “We’ll meet halfway between you and the dunes. Out in the open. No funny business from both parties.” 

The trio of demons exchanged glances. Andrealphus simply shrugged. “As far as illicit deals go it’s rather standard fare. I’ve had to deal with worse when it comes to trading hostages.”

Charles limped forward. “You ready?”

Stella nodded and stepped forward. As if to mirror them, a door opened in the steel mill. A handful of demons spilled out, their gazes locked on the object of their search. They seemed feral in the morning twilight, gripping weapons and leather coats close as they stepped forward.

Will’s voice filled the air again in light of the setting moons. “My boy’s are goin’ to pick up that Goetia of yer’s. I’ll grab the hostages. Meet my men in the middle of the dunes. As we agreed.” The phone shut off before any of them could make a response.

Stella glanced back at Charles, then at Andrealphus. “This is it then?”

Their solemn nods were answer enough.

Stella shuffled through the twilight dunes. Morning winds billowed and kicked up sand as she moved towards the mill. Charles followed, injured leg tracking their course through the shifting dunes. The group of imps moved closer like some demented reflection. Every step the duo took was mirrored by Stella’s captors to be. Sadistic grins flashed in the dying moonlight. Weapons glinted dully with hellish metals as they bobbed atop the shifting sands. Before she knew it she stood in front of the demons. Six in total. An annoyance with her powers in hand.

But the way they clutched their weapons promised a slow death while she was trapped in blessed binds.

Charles was busy fidgeting with something on his hip. His grip on the blessed rope caused him to incessantly tug at the rope that bit into her arms. The Goetia grimaced, beak twisting and eyes twitching at the rough treatment.

“What are you even doing back there?” Stella pressed, tone lowering to a menacing growl.

Charles glanced up at her distractedly. “Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

The Goetia was about to turn, but a hellhound stopped her with a tap of a gun barrel.

“We won’t be havin’ that.” The hellhound’s voice rumbled with amusement. He turned towards one of his constituents. An imp nodded, stepping towards Charles.

“The rope, sheriff. We’ll have yer family returned shortly. Like we planned.” The imp smiled as he spoke, as if amused by a joke only he knew the punchline to.

Charles grimaced, fumbling with what Stella realized was a radio. Static poured through the dunes and carried into oblivion as the moon finally dropped below the horizon. Lit only by holy rope and distant light, Charles gave the imp the lead to Stella’s binds.

The imp marveled at it, grinning cruelling and tugging on the rope. Stella squawked, stumbling forward at the savage tug.

The imp let out a cruel chuckle as he watched her stumble. The gang members grinned as they watched her flail in the dunes, ignoring the stare of contempt she gave them.

The hellhound turned to Charles. Smug confidence dripping from his voice as he spoke in the twilight. “After everything. All the fighting. You’re just goin’ to give her to us?”

Sallie May spoke clearly enough for all to hear, her voice trailing through the radio with a cautious lilt. “We found the hostages, Charles. Don’t fire along the Northeast side. Give the signal.” The imp smiled at the hellhound.

Charles smiled. “Not quite.” He kicked Stella into the dirt as the world began to change.

The sun began to rise. A portent of the end. Charles fumbled for the gun on his side, clearing leather as soon as the sun crested the horizon. Gunshots thundered through the morning, muzzle flash disappearing under the Wrath’s righteous sun. The gang members moved in a flash, coats pulled open and guns raised, their gunfire arcing into the sky as they were gunned down.

One of the imps pulled away quickly, crying out into his own radio. “The deals off! The deals o-” Frost coated the imp before spires of ice suspended the imp in the air like a twisted marionette.  The radio fell from the imps hands, the demon gasping for air from punctured lungs and a severed neck, blood dripping against pillars of ice that began to melt in the sun.

Stella turned to see Andrealphus with a slightly amused expression on his face. “What? Wrathian bloodlust certainly has its own appeal. Especially when there is no law or public outcry like in Pride.”

Charles groaned beside her. She turned to see him collapse to a knee, black blood pooling from his gut. “Stella… It’s up to you now,” he whispered. Shaking hands opened a first aid kit, struggling to push gauze into a black bullet wound. He pressed his bandaged arm against the wound, fumbling behind him as he unhooked and threw a familiar holster and revolver into the dirt. The weapon glinted dully in the rising sun, abandoned in the desert sands. He pulled off his bandolier of bullets, tossing it to Stella.

Andrealphus stepped forward, quickly untying Stella and handing her the bandolier, gun, and blessed rope. Stella clipped the bandolier on, familiar revolver resting in her palm. She hesitated when she saw the rope.

Andrealphus pushed it into his sisters grip. “Mother won’t come quietly.”

She grimaced, hooking the blessed rope to her side and checking her revolvers cylinder. Six brass bullets stared back. “What the hell am I supposed to do with this against the entirety of the gang?”

Charles chuckled, gesturing towards the town of Silverrock. “That’s the neat part. Yer not alone.”

Stella watched as the Steel Mill bloomed to life. Rooftops and windows high in buildings bloomed open, guns poking out as they trained on Stella and her companions. Andrealphus raised a wall of ice in response. Sunlight pierced through the icy veil, a kaleidoscope of color mixing with the dawn to blind and confuse. Stella saw silhouettes in the windows and the rooftops, demons shading their eyes and aiming at the hopeless trio.

The town of Silverrock thundered to life like a new, wrathian dawn. Guns bristled in the morning light, barrels trained on the Steel Mill with lethal intent.

Tracer fire from machine guns slaughtered the last vestiges of night, making a mockery of steel and glass and banished the dark. As the gang members ducked and dove for cover, there came a rumbling from the dunes behind Stella. Dune bikes and motorcycles raced from the maw of the burning horizon, plumes of dust and smog warring with the blinding light of the morning. They blitzed past Stella, driving towards a storage area of concrete and fencing to the right of the Mill. Armed with explosives and rifles, the demons dismounted and went to work suppressing the gang long enough for the machine guns at Silverrock to reposition.

Charles had dragged himself against the ice shield Andrealphus had summoned. “Go. Find yer mother. I’ll only slow you down.”

Stella glanced down at his bleeding wound. “Are you going to be alright?”

Charles shrugged. “We have a few medics in the assault element.” He leaned out to glance at the bike riders. “They all drove past, didn’t they.”

Andrealphus walked towards the discarded first aid kit, pulling out a bandage. “Come on you stubborn imp, sit up straight. I’ll see what I can do. Does anyone have medical knowledge in the town?” Charles nodded, grunting as he pushed off the ice wall for Andrealphus to apply the bandage. The Goetia turned back to Stella. “I’ll take care of him. Go. Finish this.”

“I will.” She tipped her head to Charles, a nod of respect and hope for a quick recovery. Then she was off. A spear of blinding demonic feathers flying into the light of the dawn.

~~~ ~~~

Stella careened into the ruined remnants of a concrete wall, firing futilely and blindly with her pistol. The smell of burnt sulfur filled her lungs along with the dust broken masonry. Around her she heard the cries of desperate demons and the battle lust of townsfolk doggedly pushing in for the final killing blow. She glanced up from her cover, seeing an imp aim a rifle in her direction. She quickly ducked, wincing as masonry and bullet fragments exploded inches from her head. A revving engine pulled her attention behind her, a bike roaring towards her amidst the broken masonry. A familiar dark coated imp hugged the body of the bike, tomahawk cutting a furrow into the dirt.

“Keep yer head down!” Elsie shouted as she drove past the Goetia in a blur.

Stella peaked out of cover, watching as the hellhound swerved through gunfire to behead the imp with her tomahawk. Elsie barked orders into a radio amidst the din as she sped for the cover of the storage unit. The hellhound turned, beckoning Stella forward as she hefted her tomahawk onto her shoulder.

“Come on, pretty bird! Haul ass and push while we have the gangers pinned!” The hellhound roared. Before Stella could respond the hellhound gunned the engine of the bike, leaving the Goetia amidst dust and blood.

Stella did as bidden and flew after the Hellhound, the momentum of battle pushing her towards her goal.

When she caught up to the hellhound she saw Henry had come as well. The elder seemed full of vigor, ancient rifle smoking amidst the dim light. He was joking with Elsie as he reloaded the rifle, breaking open the action and pocketing an obscenely long casing.

“So what was that ‘bout bettin’ on if I can still hit my shots?” He gave the hellhound a near toothless grin as the hellhound rolled her eyes.

“We’re not done here yet. Let’s see how the rest of the mornin’ plays out.” Elsie poked her head past a brick wall, quickly backing up as a fusillade of gunfire from abandoned scaffolding littered the area. “Fuckin’ A. Should’ve expected they’d do somethin’ like this…” She grumbled.

Stella ducked behind the brick wall, hastily reloading her pistol. “What’s the problem?”

Elsie hitched a thumb to the hole in the wall. “Machine gun’s got the whole assault pinned. It’s on a side of the mill our machine guns can’t hit.” The hellhound glanced towards Silverrock where the machine guns continued to suppress most of the gang. “We’ll be up shit creek without a paddle if more of their machine guns reposition.”

Stella glanced up, squawking in alarm and ducking her head back as bullets ripped through the air. But she caught a glimpse. That was all she needed. “I saw it. I’ll take it out.”

Elsie glanced at the Goetia, a hint of doubt in her face. Another burst from the machine gun ripped through the assault element, townsfolk dove for cover and cursed up a storm as the assault died in its tracks. “Do it.” Elsie pointed to the edge of a half collapsed building. “We saw stairs there, but you’ll have to find a way to get close enough to land a shot on the gunner.”

She gave the hellhound the briefest nod before her feathers burned a blinding white. She was gone in a flash. Dust and ancient brick shuddered in her wake as demonic power propelled her to the top of the building in the blink of an eye. She saw the scaffolding while suspended in the air, the sandbags and the gun crew operating a gun that barked a hail of bullets below. There was a heartbeat of calm before gravity took her, pulling Stella back down to cursed earth. She crashed into the scaffolding with blinding talons and revolver in hand, blasting and tearing the demons below.

Elsie, Henry, and their band of demons pushed as the scaffolding shuttered under the brunt of Stella’s wrath. She carefully climbed down from the perilous structure, a boost of blinding speed bringing her into the depths of the Steel Mill alongside the assault.

Stella’s eyes pierced the gloom as early morning light warred with the shadows of unlit halls. “If you see my mother, let me know,” Stella said. “Do you see any stairs to the second floor?”

Henry nodded. “Not like we can do much else against that crotchety bitch.” 

Stella squinted through the darkness. “Do you see any stairs to the second floor?”

Elsie pointed into the gloom. “There’s a sign fer a fire exit over there.”

Stella glanced at Henry. “Think you can start your search up there? I’ll push through the ground floor.

He nodded and turned to Elsie. “Stick with the madam. I’ll keep an eye out for any other machine gun teams that we may have missed. Radio our boys in Silverrock to watch their fire.”

Elsie fiddled at her side to speak into her radio as Henry and a few other imps and hellhounds raced up a nearby staircase.

Stella led the assault group deeper into the mill, pushing through rusty corridors and dusty halls. “Where is Sallie May in all this?”

Elsie grinned. “She left earlier last night. Got here a few hours before us to find out where the hostages were. They’re there right now.”

Stella grimaced. “Quite the gamble.”

Elsie glanced at the Goetia. “We had to find out where our folks were. Shootin’ blindly into the mill was a gamble, too. No point tryin’ to save our folks if we’re just goin’ to shoot them anyway.” She chuckled. “Some of us may have actually traded you.” Stella glared fiercely at Elsie, but she was quickly waved away. “Don’t worry. Sallie May and Andrealphus made it pretty clear what would happen if we tried that. Besides, after you helped Ox and the others during the siege?” She shook her head. “Wouldn’t have been right.”

Stella turned away, gripping her pistol tightly as gunfire erupted overhead. Chatter from the various assault and support teams bubbled from Elsie’s radio and echoed through the halls. A tension surfaced in the heart of the mill. The various dilapidated halls seemed to stretch, dark corners holding shadows that may or may not fire as soon as she passed. Stella and Elsie pushed through, clearing rooms and halls to the cruel symphony of painful screams and gunfire. The radio sputtered to life, team leaders saying that the machine guns from Silverrock were now in the compound.

Stella and Elsie could feel it, the end rearing its head amidst the blood and the dawn.

Stella was the first to hear the shouting. High pitched screeches of rage and desperation echoed through the halls, mixed with the cries of agony and the gunfire. In moments Elsie’s radio bloomed to life.

Henry’s voice rang from the radio in an uneasy timber. “Found yer mother, Stella. Push into the refinery.”

Stella and Elsie exchanged glances before sprinting through the halls. Stella found herself quickly in a new brand of hell. Rusty ancient machines and inert coals shuddered from gunfire like the innards of a dying beast. The morning light cast beams of light through the darkness, streaks of the dawn crisscrossing a darkness only broken by the thundering of guns and the flash of muzzle fire. She heard cursing above her. A quick look saw Henry pinned down with his handful of demons in an office of some sort. Near the exit, partially concealed by machinery and protected by gun and blade, Stella saw Agnes stalking behind the gang like some maddened conductor.

Her mother screamed with rage, pink eyes flashing as she pointed and roared at the imps in front of her.

Agnes saw Stella, widened eyes manic as she pointed at her estranged daughter. “How hard is it to bring that bitch to heel! Where’s Will!” Stella didn’t quite get the response, scything bullets forcing her to duck behind rusted iron and brittle sheet metal. “I don’t care about those fucking hostages, kill them for all I care! Just tell him that if he wants that get fucking paid, get his ass over here and finish this!!! ”

Stella ground her teeth, talons extending in anger. She turned to Elsie. “Help Henry out and see if you can keep the gang busy.” Her hand fell to her side and pulled out her blessed rope. It stung in her hand, the holy fibers glowing in the dark. “I’m finishing this.”

Elsie fired off a handful of shots from her carbine. “Damn straight.” She thumbed her radio as Stella vaulted past her cover. “Push to the catwalk Henry, we’ll cover you!”

Stella pushed forward, demonic form illuminating the derelict refinery as she sped towards her mother. Agnes’s eyes widened in surprise at her daughter’s brazen attack. The old Goetia glanced at the imps around her, a scowl marring a time worn face. She let out a curse and ducked into a doorway behind her, demonic talons cutting through rusted wood and collapsing the entrance. Stella cursed, billowing feathers casting wild arcs of light around her as she crashed into the catwalk where her mother just stood. Ancient supports groaned in protest, rickety screws peppering the imps below her. As the gang looked up, Henry and Elsie closed in for the kill.

Stella hopped down alongside Henry and Elsie, her pistol joining the cacophony of of gunfire and the retched chopping of the hellhounds tomahawk.

Elsie pulled the head of her tomahawk out of the neck of a hellhound, throwing the demons limp body to the side. “Yer mother’s runnin’ away.”

Stella huffed, kicking open a nearby door that led deeper into the refinery. “That’s Pride nobility for you. Always let someone else do the work.” She cocked her head towards the now open doorway. “Too bad she doesn’t have anyone else to rely on now.”

Henry reloaded his rifle, pocketing the spent casing. “So we’re just goin’ to corner her right?”

Stella stepped through the doorway. “Yep. Let’s see how much she likes being on the run.”

Elsie’s radio crackled to life. “... ella. Elsie. Hostages have been secured.” Charles’ voice rasped through the radio. Elsie blinked, unhooking her radio.

Stella blinked, grabbing the radio out of the hellhounds grip. “Shit, you’re still alive?” Stella gave Elsie a sheepish shrug.

“The support element’s secured the hostages, but Sallie May’s run off to fight Will. They’re pushing to the mills courtyard.” His voice came in and out of focus, gunfire erupting in the background.

Stella looked up, the corridor her mother had disappeared in beckoning once more. She looked back at Elsie and Henry. “That doesn’t go to the courtyard, does it?”

They shook their heads.

Stella turned on the radio again. “We’ve got Agnes in our sights, are you able to assist Sallie May?”

“Negative. We’re in between the gang and their getaway vehicles. All the retreatin’ and desertin’ gang members are tryin’ to push through us. We can’t spare anyone.” Gunfire erupted over the other end again.

Elsie chopped at the rubble in her way, dead wood and rebar broken or pried out of the way to make a path. “What’s the plan, Stella? Keep pushin’ to find yer mother, or help Sallie May?”

The corridor ahead of them lit up with the morning sun. The courtyard was in the distance, opposite her mothers retreat. Stella looked down at the blessed rope, face twisted into an ugly sneer. She glanced back at Henry and Elsie, watching as other demons streamed in behind them.

Stella hefted the blessed rope in hand. “Do either of you know how to hunt?”

Henry and Elsie exchanged amused glances. Stella threw them the rope, checking how much ammo she had left. “Mother couldn’t have gone far.” She clipped Elsie’s radio to her belt. “Does anyone else have a radio?” An imp with a machine gun raised his hand. “Good. Give it to Elsie.” She turned back to the hall, courtyard in the distance. “Tell me when you found her.”

She darted through the halls in a flash, blinding white feathers fluttering to the ground in her wake.

Hold on Sallie May, I’m coming.

~~~ ~~~

Sallie May checked her pocket, relief flooding her as her fingers touched unfired brass. She opened up the cylinder of her revolver and quickly ejected the spent casings, replacing them as she poked her head out from the other side of the rusted machine she used for cover.

“Bad idea, miss! Peakin’ the same place is just askin’ to get shot!” Will taunted, a trio of shots sailing through the air in front of her face.

Sallie May cursed and dove to the side, dirt and rust kicked up by Will’s stray shots. The gunshots in her hip and her wounded leg screamed with agony and protest, the wear and tear of the last few days finally catching up to her. 

“Maybe I’d be worried if you could fuckin’ aim!” Sallie May called, sneering as she heard Will’s cackling echo along the walls.

Gunfire and screams roared around them, but this duel was their own. Sallie May poked her head out of cover, sighting down the barrel of her revolver and firing towards the catwalk Will was using for cover. She saw his leather coat dash amidst shadows and rays of early morning light. She ducked as return fire scythed through the air beside her, quickly fishing in her pockets for more ammo.

“Looks like I’m not the only one that’s a shit shot.” Will mused. His chuckles came from pillars at the far side of the courtyard this time. “You know, before I blow yer brains out across the dirt here. Why are you fuckin’ a Goetia?”

Sallie May limped her way through broken machinery and toppled walls, pistol and knuckle knife held close. “Surprised you actually give a shit, considerin’ how much you want us both gone. You know I wouldn’t have ended up fuckin’ her if you did yer job right.” A handful of shots kicked up dirt where she had taken cover moments prior. The imp grinned. “All this could’ve been avoided if ya didn’t play with yer food.”

“I didn’t hear you complainin’ when I shot you back at the house girlie. You still haven’t answered mah question.”

Sallie May checked her pockets, ammo pouches and half moon clips long since expended. “She makes life worth livin’. Why the fuck is that so hard to understand?”

It took a while for Will to respond. Silence filled the air in the refinery they used as an arena. The gunfire and screams had gotten louder. For a moment it felt like the eye of the storm. An uneasy calm ruined by a frantic heartbeat and a gut twisting dance to the death.

“Nah. Can’t see it.” Will began. His voice echoed from somewhere further in the refinery. Bastard was retreating. “The sex might be good, but it can’t be that good.”

Sallie May laughed. She couldn’t help it, feeling a fraction of the tension bleeding away even as her hand snaked along her pockets for more ammo. “I don’t feel alone around her, believe it or not. And I can rely on her when things go south.” Finding some stray bullets in a pocket, she placed them in a satchel close to her knuckle knife for easier access. “Not much of a bettin’ girl, but if yer fucked gang is anythin’ to go by I think my gamble paid off.” She sprinted up a nearby staircase as bullets raced to her general direction.

“Eh, shit happens. We made one too many blunders in this fuckin’ town. I can always start from scratch. It ain’t hard findin’ a demon that will kill fer money. Speakin’ of which.” They spotted each other, silhouetted in a shaft of sunlight from the blown apart ceiling. They both dove for cover after trading fire. “Fuckin’ A just stand still you slippery bitch!”

Sallie May crammed into a small ball behind the blown out doorway of an office, touching her forehead where metal shrapnel had cut a furrow through her skin. Deep breaths killed trembling hands, and she quickly moved to reposition amidst the ruins. Will poked his head out of a nearby window. Sallie May jerked and fired, chipping off a piece of the imps horn. He cried out in pain and surprise as he ducked back into the shadows between shafts of morning light.

Spent casings dropped to the floor. Sallie May glanced down at the cylinder. One more shot. One more pat down of her body gave her no more ammo. No more second chances. Fuck .

“Runnin’ low on ammo darlin?” Will called out in the darkness, pain and anger mixed with labored breathing.

“Can’t be in a better situation than you.” Sallie May retorted.

Will choked out a pained laugh. “Yer right about that. Fuckin’ ell.” There was silence, Sallie May propping her head up, gun trained in front of her.

Will called out with a grunt. “Fuck it. We both have only one shot. May as well make it a proper standoff.” Will laughed. “Unless that wrathian honor I hear about occasionally is total bullshit.”

Sallie May grimaced, standing up slowly. She saw Will doing the same. They both locked eyes between sun and shade, nothing but ghostly silhouettes in a mill filled with the dead and dying. Will raised a hand to what was left of his horn, sneering. They walked out into a hallway. Nowhere left to hide. Nothing left to do but let rage and experience guide her hand.

“Any last words, birdfucker?” Will cocked the hammer on his revolver one final time.

Sallie May did the same. “Say hi to Barnabas for me.”

Their guns were up in a blink. Muzzles blooming like stars in the darkness between shafts of light. Agony flared in Sallie May’s collar. She cried out as she felt muscles rip and bone splinter, blood trickling down her front and back. \Will sagged against a wall for support. Blood spilling from his mouth. He blinked in surprise, hand snaking to his chest.

“Right in the fuckin’ chest… Paid me back fer the cheapshot at yer house?” He joked, opening the cylinder of his revolver.

Sallie May sagged into a nearby wall as well, glancing at her wound. “Yeah. Damn straight.”

Will chuckled. “Guess I’m not gettin’ my payout after all. Sad thing though.” He chuckled as he ejected spent brass. “I never was much of a sore loser.” He pulled something out of his pocket.

Blackest obsidian and blinding silver gleamed between them, held between the imps fingers. He snickered. “This was meant fer that blueblood. But you’ll do.”

Sallie May grimaced, throwing down her revolver and clumsily pawing for her knuckle knife. “You have got to be fuckin’ kidding me! Just die already!”
Will chuckled as he slammed the cylinder home. Sallie May saw the blessed bullet slam home, its glow burning through the barrel as Will raised his revolver one final time. Sallie May’s leg roared its symphony of pain, turning what was once a mad sprint into a weak limp. Will’s face lit up with triumph, even as blood gushed from his chest. Tears prickled at Sallie May’s eyes. I can’t believe it. Survived all of this shit, just to die because some cheapshot can’t die with dignity.

A flash of pink shimmered in the hallway behind Will. A familiar silhouette appeared behind the imp.

Will turned, surprise writ on his face as Stella raised her own revolver. “Get down!” She shouted.

Sallie May dived onto the rusty floor. One more gunshot rang out in the confined walls. It echoed through silence like the final note to a song. She looked up to see Will’s body slump into the dirt, blood dripping from his brow.

Stella glanced at Sallie May, fury in her face. “Not again. Not this time.”

Chapter Text

Stella helped Sallie May towards the administrator's office. Charles had called in on Sallie May’s radio saying that the mill had been cleared out. The few gang members they didn’t kill would die in the wastes. They’d hunt them for a month but no longer. Few could survive the Wrathian wastes unaided. Those that did would earn their freedom. Trucks rumbled in the distance, the transport of the hostages well underway.

Elsie was guarding the front of the administrators office, sharpening her tomahawk. When she saw Stella and Sallie May round the corner she gave them a half-hearted wave.

“Bout time you two showed up.” The hellhound smiled, a sea of relief in her toothy grin and shining eyes. “Honestly thought one of you would bite the dust today.”

Sallie May grinned. “Nah. We’re tougher than that.” She winked at Stella, the Goetia rolling her eyes. 

Elsie tilted her head to the door. “We caught that slimy bitch you call a mother, Stella. Everyone else is in there with her right now.”

Stella thanked the hellhound as she fiddled with the door, pushing it open to look inside. Charles sat on a chair at the corner of the room, nursing bandages that kept his gunshot in check. Henry leaned against the window at the end of the office, breechloader at his side. Arthur stood in another corner of the room, sporting a bandage wrapped around his head. A swollen face and bruised arms hinted at a world of pain for the imp. But he pushed through the pain. They all did. Andrealphus paced in the center of the room, hand sorting through a handful of papers. He tapped the vellum as he circled a table and chair, spite-filled words coming out of his beak like barbs. And in the chair, bound by holy chord, the one responsible for all of this sat.

Agnes was almost identical to Stella; she seemed like a mirror into the future. Her feathers had long lost their lustrous white, and the once vibrant pink was now a withered peach. Wrinkles could be glimpsed between the soft feathers and fluffy down of her face. But her eyes, burning pink and so full of spite. The years could go by in a blink and their intensity would never change. Never. Her limbs hinted at the gaunt frailness of age, accelerated by spite and scorn. Her black dress, for all its frilly layers and scandalous lace, was a dusty and tattered ruin. A fitting ornament for the shell of a woman in front of her. Stella’s mother was haggard. Nothing more than a crone in mind, body, and soul.

“How’d you catch her so fast?” Stella asked.

Henry whistled, Elsie popping her head in with a grin. “Fer a Goetia she’s slow as hell. Didn’t take long fer us to corner and wrangle her down like livestock.”

The wrathian demons in the room couldn’t help but chuckle. Agnes rolled her eyes and coupled it with a sneer.

“If I paid for proper protection you’d all be dead.” She growled.

Charles flung a spent cartridge at her head, grinning when she visibly jumped. “Yeah but you didn’t.”

Agnes struggled to turn towards the sheriff, straining against her holy bonds. “If my dumbass of a mercenary didn’t fuck up killing my poor excuse of a daughter we wouldn’t be here! ”

Sallie May pulled away from under Stella’s arm, giving her a reassuring smile and pulling a nearby chair to the table. “Go ahead princess. We’re here for you.”

Stella gave her a grateful nod before sitting down. Agnes’s attention shifted to her. Her mother’s sneer never left, looking down her beak at her daughter.

“I can’t believe you’re wearing commoner filth, Stella Goetia. I taught you better than that.”

Stella’s eyes narrowed. “Will didn’t give me much choice, mother.”

Agnes rolled her eyes. “At least you kept your crown. Even if it’s lost its luster to the dirt of that filth ridden town you decided to hide in.”

Stella stared at her mother, feeling conflicting emotions rage inside her. She rested her crossed arms against the top of the table, willing herself to unclench her fists.

Agnes’s beak cocked from a sneer to a cruel smirk. “What? Not angry? Not going to throw a tantrum like you’re renowned for? Perhaps my teachings didn’t go to complete waste on you.”

Stella stared her mother in the eye. “Why?” Agnes’s smirk disappeared. “Why do all this?” 

Agnes broke eye contact, staring into the dark like some petulant brat. 

Andrealphus sidled into view. A knife in his hands. He tested the edge. “I suggest you cooperate, mother. It’s been a while since I’ve tried something like this. I’d love to get some practice in.”

Agnes whispered a curse before turning back to Stella. “Do you really want to know why?” Stella’s eyes bored into her, but her beak remained shut. “Fine.” Agnes leaned into the chair. “You’re a failure. You failed to attract a husband until me and Eligos indulged Paimon enough to get one of his sons married to you. Even then you failed to satisfy said husband, failed to keep his wealth afloat, even failed to assassinate him correctly.” The Goetia’s eyes fell on Sallie May. “And from what I can tell you ended up imitating that social pariah. At least when I fucked the servants I made sure they held some renown. Then killed them to keep word from spreading too far. But most of all?” Agnes’s beak twisted into a cruel smirk, talons biting into the chair. “I love tormenting you.”

Stella’s eyes twitched. Her hand reflexively jerked to her holstered revolver, but a tender hand stopped her. She turned to see Sallie May giving a reassuring smile. Stella smiled back, taking hold of her hand and giving it a squeeze.

Agnes grunted in disgust. “Public affection with the lessers. How unbecoming.”

Stella turned back to Agnes. “You could have kept your lovers instead of killing them, you know. The only time I saw you actually happy was when you had one of them thrusting between your legs.” Stella smirked when she saw her mother’s eyes flash with hate.

Agnes scoffed. “What, and let them boast about me like some conquest?”

Stella raised an eyebrow. “Like Eligos did?” Agnes slumped in her chair, talons cutting the armrest to ribbons with her anxious scratches. “What were you even trying to do anyway? What would killing me off solve?”

Agnes took her time responding. She tested her bonds, sneering with a tsk at the unyielding bindings. “Kill you off and get closer to your daughter and husband. Eligos has nothing more than his station in court but he is still untouchable in a confrontation. Andrealphus is a Marquis and far more wily than you’ll ever be. But you? Married to a Prince, heir apparent to a King of hell and in good standing with Lucifer and the Morningstar family? I could do so much with that kind of power. I’d force a connection after your death, groom that daughter of yours until she’s the ideal puppet. Something you never were. Perhaps I could force Andrealphus into another marriage with power like that.”

She and Andrealphus exchanged heated glances. Andrealphus’s grip on the knife tightened. He pointedly placed papers in front of her. A wealth of documents written in his flowing penmanship.

“Quite the conniving little witch aren’t you? That won’t do at all.” 

Agnes glanced down at the papers. “This again? Really?”

Andrealphus stared daggers at her with a sapphire leer. “It’d be the least you could do, you wrinkled cow!” He slammed a fountain pen on the table. “Sign the bloody documents or we’ll find ways to make you sing!”

Stella glanced at her brother. “What are the documents for anyway?”

He turned to her with a decadent grin, feathers slightly disheveled as he crept behind his mothers chair. “Transfer of ownership for certain high value properties to you and me in equal measure, adjustments to the will, and a few… Agreements that’ll hamper her next attempt at filicide.”

Agnes rolled her eyes. “You don’t have the leverage. You may have me here bound, but you know you can’t truly do anything to me.” She glanced at the knife in Andrealphus’s hand. “Not with that toothpick of yours, son.”

Sallie May rapped her fist on the table. “Actually, miss.” All three Goetia glanced at her. “If I may… Interject.” She opened her fist, revealing a bullet of black iron and holy silver. A bullet that glowed. Agnes paled, Andrealphus and Stella’s feathers standing on end at the sight of the blessed round. Sallie May unholstered Stella’s revolver and placed it on the table. “That’s not quite right, miss.” The imp gave Agnes a mischievous wink. “Wouldn’t want my potential mother-in-law to be wrong, now would I?”

Agnes glanced at Stella, watching as her daughter picked up the revolver. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Stella opened the cylinder for her revolver, ejecting casings as she stared her mother down. “Not quite.” She pushed the blessed bullet home, angelic script pulsing around the primer. “Don’t worry too much mother. You’ll survive. Will taught me that.” She tenderly pushed the cylinder home.

Agnes glanced back down at the documents. She struggled against her binds, growling as her feathers flashed to unleash her demonic form. Shadows lengthened even as the holy bonds burned through her dress and singed feather and flesh.

Stella cocked the hammer.

Agnes stopped when she saw the glowing bullet in the barrel of Stella’s revolver. She slumped forward in her binds, letting out ragged breaths as the holy binds finally stopped burning into her skin. “I can’t believe I’m doing this…” She picked up the fountain pen and stared at the papers in front of her. Stella leaned forward, tapping the first of the documents with the barrel of her revolver. 

Agnes put pen to parchment, marking them with a damning flourish. Andrealphus grabbed the parchment, turning it over as their mother signed away her freedom. Andrealphus and Stella’s eyes twinkled every document. At the final paper Agnes hesitated.

“Return all the stock in your businesses?” Agnes glanced up at Andrealphus. “That’ll leave me destitute.”

Andrealphus glanced at Stella, who tapped it with the barrel of her revolver once again. “I’m sorry mother.” The sapphire Goetia crooned. “You don’t have much of a choice. Sign the fucking paper.”

Her name flowed onto the page, the Goetia’s wealth gone by her own hand. Stella’s revolver rose from the paper, pointed at her mother.

Stella’s beak twisted into a cruel smirk as she pulled the trigger.

~~~ ~~~

The next few days had passed in a blur. The hostages were reunited with their families, heartfelt reunions blooming across the town square where they settled. But tears of sadness accompanied those of joy. Many loved ones wouldn’t be coming home. Not after the raid and assault on the town. 

Stella and Sallie May were in the clinic now, pushing through a sea of family members as they moved to a now familiar room. Stella knocked on the door lightly.

“Are you all awake?” She asked.

Lin’s voice came in a rasp. “Yeah, come on in.”

Sallie May pushed open the door lightly, walking up to two hospital beds and hugging the imps lying within. Joe was wrapped in casts, broken and sundered bones slowly mending, bruises marring once vibrant crimson skin into a mottled purple landscape. More scars littered his body now, a tapestry of white cuts against a field of red and purple. He grunted in greeting, struggling to hug his daughter as he sat up in the hospital bed.

Stella couldn’t help but smirk. “The gang did a number on you, Joe.”

Joe let out a weak laugh. “No shit.” He lay back down on his pillow, letting out a pained groan. “Fuck. Painkillers are wearin’ off again…” He turned to Sallie May, patting her back. “Why don’t you say hi to mom.”

Lin smiled wanly, sitting up in her own hospital bed. “It’s fine. We talked on the phone earlier, hun.” Sallie May hugged her regardless, Lin returning the gesture with a bit more vigor than her husband. “But I won’t say no to a free hug.” Sallie May pulled away, making sure not to touch the bandages that wrapped around Lin’s gut and shoulders. Bruises still peaked out of the white cloth. Lin fretted with her blanket, pulling it up to her midriff as she turned to Stella. “I heard Arthur was discharged yesterday. How’s he holdin’ up?”

Stella leaned against the door. “His arm’s been healin’ fine, but his face may have a scar or two from Will’s beating. Him and the boys have been taking care of the farm, though. Now that we have farmhands working all the farms that survived, they can finally handle the workload.”

Joe grumbled his approval. “Good. We’ll turn a profit this year after all.”

Sallie May pulled away from Lin. “Millie said she’d be here in the next few days. Somethin’ about her freelance work kickin’ off.” The imps phone buzzed before she could elaborate. She pulled away from her parents, quickly opening the phone. Her smile quickly disappeared, replaced by resignation. “Yer brother’s headin’ out soon. And Charles says he’ll be ready for you in a bit.”

Stella pursed her lips, looking at Joe and Lin. “I came to say goodbye.”

Lin nodded. “We figured it wouldn’t be too long till you left.”

Joe propped himself up on his elbows, pulling himself up to lean against his headboard. “Be sure to visit. I’m sure the town wouldn’t mind it either.”

Stella smiled, turning towards the door and opening it. She looked back, seeing the family that had helped her since day one. “Thanks for everything.”

Lin and Joe gave her a collective wave. “Don’t mention it.” Joe said.

“Don’t forget to call.” Lin added.

Sallie May grabbed her crutch, favoring her uninjured leg as she turned to Stella. “Hold the door open for me?” They exchanged quick smiles as they left Joe and Lin to a quiet recovery.

Sallie May followed Stella out of the Clinic, passing a sea of fretting and recovering family members. They stepped onto a street in the middle of a transformation. Dust rolled through the town in great waves as reconstruction efforts continued in earnest. Mayor Ox’s voice rang out amidst the clamor of hammers, power tools, and heavy equipment. Savage drilling and thunderous booms mixed with the honking of trucks as they brought in building materials from surrounding towns and Los Satanio. Fortifications were broken down all around, the materials repurposed for the town's revitalization.

Sallie May grabbed Stella’s hand, eyes shielded against the dust and sun. “Come on, we don’t want to keep yer brother waitin’.”

Stella took the imps hand, allowing her to be led through town. “I suppose so.”

It wasn’t a long walk to the town square, but Sallie May decided to take the scenic route. The Saloon lay derelict for now. The reason was clear when they saw The Sinner’s Kiss, where Antoine and Elsie led a construction crew in renovating the cat house. Blood-stained rugs and furniture were thrown by the wayside, their replacements wrapped in plastic and brought through the open doors. The hellhounds gave the duo a wave as they passed. Henry slept in a rocking chair in front of the Trident of Pain as well, his characteristic breechloader leaning on the wall by his side.
It wasn’t long before they found themselves at the town square, however. A white helicopter billowed clouds of dust from its blades as it idled. Andrealphus stood in front of it as his servants clambered into the helicopter and secured the Goetia’s luggage.

Andrealphus walked up to her, hand shielding his eyes from the cruel wrathian sun. “It’s time for us to go, Stella. Are you sure you wouldn’t like to leave via helicopter? It’s no trouble, really,” he said.

“Yes. The imps are going to escort me to the Elevator on their own.” She and Andrealphus shared a rueful smile.

Andrealphus shook his head, taking a deep breath as he fiddled with his fur collar. “I suppose there’s nothing I can say to convince you otherwise of your…” He glanced behind her, seeing Sallie May limp up to them with the help of a crutch. “Current relationship?”

Stella rolled her eyes, lightly punching her brother’s arm. “I admire your tenacity brother, but for once please let it go.”

Andrealphus rubbed his arm, shaking his head. “Seeing how it makes you happy I guess I can make an exception.” He turned his head towards his guards, who were standing beside a figure bound in holy rope. A good portion of the townsfolk were arrayed in a circle as well, with rifles and machine guns poking out of rooftops and windows around them. “Come, mother. We’re finally going back to Pride.” Agnes stood up, towering over the demons despite slouching in abject misery. “A shame, really. I would’ve loved to bask in your anguish for a moment longer.”

Agnes grumbled her dissent, but moved to join her son. She wobbled, holy rope binding her hands and feet. A newly applied bandage peaked out of her dress, hiding a gunshot wound cursed by holy munition. The same place Stella had been shot.

Hopefully it serves as a warning for her dear mother.

Sallie May watched the Goetia step away, grimacing as she rested her weight on her crutch. Stella glanced at Sallie May, pulling the imp close and flashing her a reassuring smile. Sallie May returned it as she leaned against the Goetia for support. Her arm moved sluggishly, struggling to wrap around the Goetia’s midriff.

Stella crouched, allowing Sallie May to wrap an arm over her shoulders for better support. “How’s your arm? Ox said to use it sparingly, it’ll take a while for everything to heal.”

Sallie May grimaced as she tried to flex her fingers, they struggled to twitch. It was still a triumphant recovery compared to the last few days. “Luckily the only thing that got shot were my nerves and some muscle. I’m honestly amazed he sewed me back up the way he did, the way he was talkin’ about it I thought I’d lose my arm.”

The duo watched as Agnes walked her march of shame, head held high despite the jeers of the demons around her.

Sallie May’s eyes were locked on Agnes’s bandage. “So, why didn’t you kill her? Why shoot her there of all places?”

“Because I would have ended up like her if you hadn’t intervened.” She watched her mother radiate hatred and scorn, and the frustration of being able to do nothing about it. “Killing her would have been a mercy. Living a life alone and filled with so much anger is a torture all its own.”

Sallie May raised an eyebrow. “Surprisingly deep comin’ from you princess.”

Stella held back a laugh. “It comes from experience, imp.”

Their attention was pulled to the helicopter by a whistle. Andrealphus had helped his mother up, his guards and his sea of attendants huddling in close to give them space. He gave them a wave, signaling a departure.

“I’ll see you back in Pride, dear sister.”

They exchanged one last wave goodbye before the alabaster helicopter rose like a dove through crimson skies. Stella turned back to the town, watching as it slowly began to heal. She was surprised to find she’d miss this town. But she knew this wouldn’t be the last time she saw it.

Sallie May watched as Ox, Charles, and Lucia walked up from the diaspora of families returning to normal life and the demons working to restore the town to its rustic glory. Lucia’s hands were clasped primly behind her back as they walked.

Stella blinked, seeing the portly imp walk up with the other two. “I thought you were overseeing the reconstruction efforts?”

Ox pulled off his ostentatious top hat. “And say goodbye to a guest? I’d like to think I’m a better host than that, miss.”

Stella couldn’t help but smile. “You’re better than most, Ox.” She turned to see Charles leaning on a cane of his own, bandaged arm tucked to his side. “How are you holding up?”

He glanced down at his bandaged arm and gut, then down to the cane he used to help himself walk. “Could be better.” He turned to the succubus with a smirk. “But I’m gettin’ top of the line care.”

The succubus’s lips thinned, tail swinging to hit the imp in the leg. “You’ll be leaving on a happy note, Stella. Most of the injured will be discharged in the next few days.” She moved her arms forward, a wine bottle in her hand. “A parting gift. For being the bait.” She glanced sidelong back to The Sinner’s Kiss. “And for services rendered while things went south…”

Stella looked at the bottle. “Lilith’s Vineyard?” Lucia nodded. Stella moved to take the bottle. It was light in her hand, the rich liquid within sloshing with refreshing promise. She passed it back to Lucia with a smile. “Keep it. I think I’ve drunk more than enough from your cabinet.”

Charles rolled his shoulders, waiting for the transaction to end before he spoke. “As promised, yer majesty. The escort will be ready by day’s end. You’ll be back in Pride before long.” 

Stella cocked an eyebrow. “Never heard you use my title before.”

Charles shrugged. “Eh, you did enough fer the town to warrant some respect. I figure we may as well use the damn honorific.”

Stella shook her head. “Stella’s fine, thank you.”

Ox placed his hat back on his head, watching as Andrealphus’s helicopter rose into a cloudless sky. “I need to get back to the reconstruction efforts. We still have a lot of work to do.”

Charles and Lucia followed the mayor soon after, exchanging their own goodbyes with Stella and Sallie May before taking their leave. Stella and Sallie May found themselves all alone again.

“So… I guess that’s it then.” The imps' voice was hesitant. Soft.

“So it is.”

Sallie May glanced down at her form, trying her best to grab the knuckle knife still sheathed at her side. “I can’t do much, but I can ride in the escort with you while we get you to the elevator. Last line of defense and all that.”

Stella smiled. “That goes without saying.”

Sallie May’s brow furrowed, her lips downturned in a solemn, if slight, pout. “... You’ll call every so often, will you?”

Stella turned back to the imp, mischief rife in pink eyes. “Oh don’t think you’re off the hook yet, imp. I do remember promising to get you fit for a suit.”

Sallie May blinked, glancing up at the Goetia.

She couldn’t help but smile.

Chapter Text

“ The royals finally allowed for an exclusive interview on Stella Goetia’s kidnapping three months ago. Stella, Andrealphus, and Agnes Goetia were spotted entering Pride via helicopter and elevator under armed escort. A gang led by criminal duo Will and Barnabas had taken Stella for ransom.”

“That’s right, Katie. Helped by the rural town of Last Respite in Wrath, the gang would eventually be taken out under the charge of an escaped Stella and her family. Agnes was ultimately admitted to Vanity Hospital after taking a blessed bullet for her son and daughter.”

“Quite the bold move, Tom. More info on this daring story at 11. Onto more interesting news, Lucifer has decided to endorse his daughters plot of a redemption hotel…” 

Stella’s heels clicked on marble floors as the susurrus of violins and cellos seduced the wind with their siren song. She pulled at the hem of her white dress, fretting at the restrictive lace and silk. She’d never realized just how limiting these dresses were.

A dash of laughter caught her attention. She looked up to see Stolas at the other end of the hall. He was laughing, a glass of absinthe swirling lightly in his hand. A crimson bird in a suit of the same color confided in her husband, hiding his laugh behind a glass that swirled with wine. The two of them couldn’t help but grin in the low light of the crystal chandelier, shrouded by the prism of colors reflecting from the stained glass windows. Stolas locked eyes with her for a moment. Surprise, concern, wariness, and uncertainty swirling in his crimson gaze. Behind him she saw a trio of imps in the darkness. Even in svelte suits she could see weapons glinting under the shadows between window blinds.

She had to admit she knew how he felt. She had come back more than a little changed, after all. She raised her glass uneasily. He mirrored the gesture, and they both took a swig of their respective drinks. She glanced behind her where a similar imp stood away from prying eyes.

“Stella! I heard what happened on the news! I couldn’t imagine going through something so harrowing!” A feminine voice chirped beside her. She turned to see a short, stocky Goetia. Plump and homely, clothed in a multilayer dress bedazzled in diamonds and sapphires. Her bright green plumage and piercing golden eyes evoked images of springtime. “I heard what happened to your mother. I hope she gets better soon.”

Stella smiled. “Erza, it’s been far too long. As you know my mother’s getting the best care the seven rings can provide. She’ll be up and about in no time.”

Erza beamed. “That’s delightful to hear. I would be beside myself if any of my family was trapped in Wrath of all places.” The Goetia let out a shudder. “You must have been cursed by the devil himself to find locals willing to help. Speaking of which…” Erza glanced behind her, seeing an imp skittering in the shadows. “There’s rumors going around that you… Have new charges under your employ?” Her voice dropped into a whisper, glancing around. “The court heard of an assassination attempt on Stolas while you were gone. And now you return with talk of being kidnapped and demons with blessed weaponry…” Her plumage ruffled in a shiver. “I dare say I wouldn’t mind having some protection of my own.”

Stella raised an eyebrow. “Well… I could point you in the right direction. But you must understand wrathian imps can be a bit hard to deal with.”

Erza scoffed, waving away her concerns with a flourish of feathers. “That goes without saying, dear. But they will be handsomely compensated, I assure you.” Erza glanced furtively at the crowd around them, the buzz of conversation shielding them from prying ears. “And unlike your dear mother, I’ve never been one to just kill a servant that’s still useful.” The Goetia held each other's stares, her emerald friend waiting to gauge Stella’s reaction.

Stella cocked her eyebrow. “I’ll give you their information, I’m sure we can figure something out.” 

Erza’s beak broke into a wide grin. Tailfeathers fluttered behind her as she let off a soft, exultant chirp. “Oh thank you so much, darling! I feel safer already!” Before Stella could respond the flighty bird was chasing down an imp, his proffered tray filled to the brim with refined fingerfood.

Goetia began to come to her in ones or two’s furtively, unsure of her position. All their voices were honeyed, but she heard the intricacy of court dealings within. Some were genuinely happy to see her again. Others wary of continuing or withdrawing previously made alliances. A few still pried and prodded, wondering where the boisterous, rage filled Stella had gone.

Stella was mid conversation when she saw Sallie May step into view of the ball. Just briefly, entertaining guests with her characteristic wrathian drawl. She saw the imp bow. Good. Proper decorum, as I taught her. A curt welcome and a precise gesture towards the food or other points of interest. Proper etiquette when entertaining guests… And a few cracked jokes to lighten the mood. Stella tilted her head, a smirk threatening to break apart her noble poise. Oh that’s new. The two locked eyes as Stella brought her goblet up to her beak for a sip. She winked at the imp, tilting her head towards one of Stolas’s private balconies. The imp nodded before turning her attention back to inquisitive Goetia who were curious about Stella’s newest… Acquisition. Stella in turn walked to the balcony, heels audibly clicking on the marble floor.

Pride was beautiful at night. Pentagram City lit the horizon with bedazzling lights. Imp city bloomed in the distance, the chaotic buzz a whisper in the calm winds. High above them blackened skies sparkled with stars uncounting. And there, holding dominion over all, heaven floated. Lucifer’s pentagram cast its crimson glow onto the realm below, crimson energies pulsing in the darkness. Stella leaned against an intricately carved stone railing and placed her glass down. She tutted and fiddled with the restraining weave of her outfit, picking against its confines as she tried to readjust to the garment.

Sallie May entered the private balcony a moment later, gingerly locking the door. She wore a muted green suit, burgundy undershirt and black tie pulling together her ensemble. Her bandana neatly folded into a square in her chest pocket, the vibrant white and red cloth pulling the eyes down. She wore her hair down for once.

Stella crouched in front of the imp, straightening her tie, collar, and suit jacket. “There we go. Good as new. What do you think of the outfit?”

Sallie May did a quick twirl, crimson tail flowing behind. “I’ll be honest. I wasn’t too sure about what you picked but it looks damn good on me!”

Stella moved down the imp, fretting with her belt and straightening her gig line. She pointedly ignored the knuckle knife and pistol, standing back up. 

Stella grabbed her half filled glass and turned towards the imp. “I saw how you greeted some of the guests. You did wonderfully.”

Sallie May grinned. “I think I’m doin’ a bit better with all this courtly customs bullshit you had me learn.” A stern glance from the Goetia had Sallie May rolling her eyes. “Save fer the cursin’. You know that’s not goin’ away.”

Stella smirked. “You have a point. It’s fine. We’ll figure something out.”

Sallie May walked up to the railing, standing beside Stella as they looked out across Pride. Stella glanced down at the imp, offering her a sip from her wine glass. The imp took it. “How’s the family?”

Sallie May gave Stella her wineglass back, hopping onto the railing and taking a seat against it. “Rough and Tumbleweed Ranch is doin’ fine now that we’ve got more workers to till the land. Don’t have to be so worried about losin’ farmhands to flamin’ twisters now.  We can actually start thinkin’ about rebuildin’ and expandin’. Us and the other farms that survived that is. Joe can walk now, although he still needs a cane. And Lin’s still getting feelin’ in her hands again. But they’ll bounce back. They always do.” Sallie May opened and closed a fist, the hand slowly beginning to respond to her again.

The two of them watched cars pass by the road of the estate, headlights cutting furrows into the darkness beyond.

Stella took another sip of her wineglass. “And what about the boys?”

Sallie May chuckled. “You know Roy. Still gettin’ into shit. Tom’s gone back to workin’ with Henry and Martin’s started cooking at the Saloon. Not to mention he got Lucia to teach him how to play piano durin’ the weekends.” Her face soured somewhat. “Arthur’s still tryin’ to get his protection business to work. I think he still feels guilty about not bein’ able to protect the town or ma and pa.”

Stella placed her wineglass down again, leaning against the railing. “He’ll do good. You know he will. Besides, I have a few clients lined up for him.” Sallie May blinked in surprise. Stella handed her a handful of phone numbers. “Some of the Goetia are rattled. May as well put their unease to good use.”

Sallie May quickly pocketed the numbers. “Damn. Business dealing’s so soon after returnin’ to Pride. Yer brother’s definitely rubbin’ off on you.”

Stella snickered. “I’ll be sure to let him know. How about the rest of the town?”

Sallie May kicked her feet as they dangled off the ledge. “Same old. The investments Andrealphus and you put into the town’s led to a boom. New prospects are breathin’ life back into the town fer the first time in years. Antoine’s thinkin’ of expandin’ his bar, and Madam Lucia’s been thinkin’ of startin’ a casino business alongside that cathouse of hers.”

“Well she did say she wanted to fulfill every indulgence.” They both shared a chuckle before silence overtook them.

It was a calm night. Clear skies and warm air made it utterly delightful. Stella saw Sallie May touching her side. A habit she hadn’t quite kicked.

“Do you regret anythin’?” Sallie May asked, looking out into the gloom. “I mean… Even I heard talk from the other Goetia. Suspecting you’ve fallen like yer mother and husband and started ‘fraternizing with the commoners,’ as they put it.”

Stella took a sidestep, standing directling behind Sallie May. The imp turned, glancing up at her.

She could see twinkling stars lit up in those eyes. She couldn’t help but smile.

“Sallie May. Getting shot was the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t regret a thing.”

Sallie May blushed, but never one to back away from a challenge placed her hand on the Geotia’s cheek. “Why don’t you prove it then?”

Stella grinned, letting the imp pull her in close for one final kiss.

Chapter Text

So I'll start this by saying romance isn't my strong suit, nor what I normally read. Which is funny considering my two big fics center around romantic plots. I actually didn't expect to write this much for Tyto Alba, seeing it as a bit more of a joke fic with a few scenes that I really wanted to write down.

I decided to start writing it because of a conversation on twitter over a year ago. There was a small thing in the community saying that there weren't that many Stella/Sallie May ship content. I thought why not? It'd be fun working with characters like that. Suffice to say I bit off a bit more than I could chew. It had me learning more about how I write, and learning where my strengths and weaknesses lie. The hiatus was admittedly a part of that, as I had to juggle fleshing out my writing weaknesses with college and writers block over a 7 month period.

Now fic is admittedly far from perfect. In hindsight it would've been better to have considerably more characters from Helluva Boss in the actual story, but my initial focus was just on Stella, Sallie May, and exploring Millie & SM's family interactions with this princess that appeared on the farm because of plot reasons. Furthermore, the use of the Goetia could have been placed closer to the middle of the second act so their introduction wouldn't have been so jarring.

However, I also did want to explore two things: Just how can I push Stella to develop empathy and fall in love, and how can I get Sallie May to rely on others more. Since we unfortunately don't see much of Sallie May in the show (save for an awesome short that was released a month or two back), I had to fill in a lot of blanks. As for Stella, I don't know, writing her was a tad finnicky at first. I didn't want to make her seem completely incompetent, but I didn't want her to be completely heartless either. I may have been a bit heavy handed with their lessons by the end but I hope that it flows well enough to be a good read.

But it's done! There it is! Tyto Alba! A quick little story for people to enjoy. If you enjoyed it, I'm glad to hear it. If you didn't, I'm glad you took the time to read it regardless. 

I still have more stuff on the way, a tad more comprehensive than this and applying lessons learned. but this'll be it for now.