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After the little personal assistant’s appearance at Vox's side like a loyal dog, Alastor expected nothing less than the soon arrival of unwanted company.
He felt the young Overlord’s approach to the hotel door and set his tea cup into its saucer on the table with perhaps more force than he intended, if Vincent’s glance his way was anything to go by.
“Vox, do be a dear and go to your room.” Alastor crossed one leg over the other. “We’re about to have a familiar guest and I’d hate for your one visit this week to be taken up by an argument.”
“What?” Vincent asked as a loud banging hit the door. His head turned toward the sound and Alastor snapped his fingers in a non-verbal command. Vincent stood and stomped toward the stairs. “Fuck you, Al.”
He waited for the man to disappear down the hall before he stood to greet his guest.
“About time.” Velvette held her phone in her hand, just off to the side. She shoved her way by Alastor and stepped into the lobby of the hotel. “I’ll get straight to the point: What do you want for Vox?”
“Where is your other companion?” Alastor asked instead of an answer. He shut the door and strolled toward the seating area. “Is he not interested in getting back his play thing?”
“Don’t be daft.” Velvette snorted and collapsed in the chair. She did her best to appear nonchalant, but he could sense the tension in her creaking doll joints. Velvette typed on her phone and crossed her legs. “I drugged Val with a potion so strong he’ll be out for a week. I can’t have his temper fucking up negotiations–now I’ll ask again: What do you want for Vox?”
“Nothing.” Alastor chuckled and took a seat in front of her. He took a sip from his tea cup. “But while you’re here, would you like the Hazbin Hotel redemption spiel?”
“I’m being serious,” Velvette lowered her phone. “There’s no point in hiding that I want him back and will overpay for it–so what do you want?”
“And as I said before,” Alastor paused, “I want nothing for him. This isn’t some hostage negotiation. I’m not holding onto him in hopes of an exchange for better–Vox is what I wanted and I have no reason to sell him.”
“What would be better then?” Velvette asked. She rested her phone on her lip. “What would you want more to make it worth it to let him go?”
Alastor's own freedom, perhaps, but that wasn’t within Velvette’s power to give–nor would he want her to. Alastor would rip free from his chains on his own terms and keep Vincent.
“I should clarify,” Velvette said. “I am going to get Vox back one way or another, so I highly suggest you get what you can out of a deal before I rip him away and you get nothing.”
A threat.
How delightfully adorable.
Alastor smiled wider in genuine humor. “It isn’t becoming of a young lady to bluff, my dear.”
“I wasn’t.” Velvette stood and lowered her phone by her hip as her arm hung loose. “You may be strong, but you’re still a single sinner. I’ve got numbers behind me and I’m not afraid to throw all of them away for Vox if it brings you down a peg.”
“Is it wise to threaten me?” Alastor asked. “It’s in the contract that Vox is guaranteed a visit with you and Valentino once a week, but I did not specify the amount of time. Would you prefer he see you for five minutes or a full day?”
She swallowed. “I am getting Vox back.”
Velvette spoke with conviction, but Alastor saw the tremble in her hands; the doubt with a hint of fear he couldn’t help but relish. Alastor hummed and took in the young overlord from her pursed lips to her shaking hands.
At least she was entertaining–so he’d entertain her in turn.
“What if I asked you to give up your phone and internet?” Alastor put the cup down and laced his fingers over his knee. Her grip tightened on the small device in her hand and he smiled all that much wider. “Vox’s freedom in exchange for a vow that you never touch another electronic device again for the remainder of your time in hell.”
Her lip curled in anger and Alastor leaned back in triumph; he’d made his point–
“Is that a serious offer?” Velvette asked and Alastor’s ear flicked. “Because I’ll agree.”
Alastor took pause and his stitches held his lip in place as the smile threatened to drop. “Pardon?”
“If that’s the trade, I will take it.” Velvette tossed her phone on the coffee table. It landed face down, showing off the case with the symbol of a heart made of a V and the number 3. “I want Vox back.”
“My dear, you’re the social media overlord,” Alastor said. His laugh sounded nervous and he hated it. “You wouldn’t just be giving up your little distractions, you’d lose all your power. All your followers and influence. You’d give that all away for Vox?”
“Yes,” Velevette said, almost growling. “I thought I made it pretty clear I was willing to overpay for his dumb ass when I walked in here. Now is that a serious offer or not?”
“It wasn’t,” Alastor admitted. He never imagined she’d agree so readily; Alastor had wanted a show of anger and complaint that her working partner wasn’t worth that sort of loss. “Your misery isn’t worth giving up my favorite toy.”
Velvette’s hair rose with her anger; a soft purple glow around her. “You–”
“That said.” Alastor cut her off and picked up her phone. He held it back to her between two fingers; she didn’t reach for it. “For humoring my teasing, you can go upstairs and see him for an extra visit.”
Alastor sent the radio in Vincent’s room a message with permission to see Velvette as he gave her the room number. She snatched the phone back and left without a word. The boiling anger and frustration followed her and Alastor closed his eyes.
Vincent was worth that much to her? Enough that she would give up everything? For Vincent? What could he possibly have done to earn that devotion?
Velvette had always struck him as a practical, albeit chaotic, force. She was out for her own interests and lived with confidence that only someone who died young could maintain in hell. Vincent worked well with her unique skill set, so he could see her using that for all it was worth, but to hold her personal interest?
He couldn’t fathom it.
It had taken almost a decade for Alastor to admit his own attachment–
“Fuck you, too!” Velvette’s shout echoed through the hallways. A slammed door and loud stomps followed Velvette’s wrath as she descended the staircase. Her walk of fury stopped in front of Alastor and she glared at him with wet eyes. “If Vox doesn’t show up on Friday, I’m burning this hotel to the ground with all of you in it.”
Alastor stared after her as she left the hotel, slamming the oversized doors with strength such a tiny form shouldn’t have.
A few minutes later, Vincent stood behind the couch with his hands in his pockets.
“Whatever did you say to her?” Alastor asked, unable to hold back the curiosity.
“The truth,” Vincent answered. His gaze lingered on the lobby doors. “My freedom isn’t worth her or Val getting involved with one of your deals.”
Worth. Worth. Worth.
Alastor sneered and opened his mouth to reply, cut short by Vincent’s small laugh.
“This is the one time I’m thankful you’re a stubborn bastard,” Vincent said, shaking his head. He tugged on the chain hanging from his collar. “Even if it’s out of spite alone, you’re never going to let me go.”
Vincent frowned and tilted his head. “Probably a mistake to say that. For all I know, you’d get even more of a kick from watching me suffer in freedom if it costs the other Vees everything.”
“Fret not,” Alastor said. He reached behind him and grabbed the chain. He yanked hard down, bringing Vincent’s head close to his own. The man choked from the tight twist of Alastor’s grip. “I like you right where you are.”
Vincent’s claws tore into the couch and Alastor let go. He listened to the heavy breathing behind him and relished the simmering anger. Vincent released the furniture and crossed his arms over the back with a huff. His elbow touched Alastor’s shoulder and he leaned into the touch.
He didn’t care what Vincent was worth to anyone else; he belonged to Alastor.