About ten days after the incident at Outpost Forty-Seven, the tunnels discovered beneath my territory had stopped being an urgent problem and become something I greatly preferred: a problem entrusted to competent people.
The engineering teams had mapped several kilometers of tunnels, sealed passages that extended too far beyond our borders, and begun reinforcing those that might actually prove useful.
The possibility of using part of the network to connect certain military and industrial installations had been confirmed, even if the necessary work would probably take months.
Several smaller creatures had also been discovered in the depths, but none resembled the predators that had attacked the outpost, and my engineers had been assigned escorts large enough that I had no need to personally supervise every expedition.
I had therefore been able to return to my usual responsibilities, which explained my presence in Pentagram City that afternoon.
A company the Dominion had worked with for several years was due to renew part of our industrial equipment.
The amount involved was significant enough that the owner had insisted on personally presenting the new terms of the contract to me, probably hoping that the presence of two overpriced bottles and a ridiculously luxurious office would prevent me from noticing the three clauses he had tried to alter discreetly.
It hadn’t worked.
He had kept his contract, I had kept the old terms, and he had even agreed to an additional discount after I asked him, with considerable curiosity, which of his competitors he would recommend if his costs had genuinely increased as much as he claimed.
A productive meeting, all things considered.
My lieutenant still had some business to handle with an intermediary a few streets away.
I could have accompanied him, but he didn’t need me to verify a delivery, and I had no desire to stand around while he counted crates.
So I had arranged to meet him again a little later before continuing on alone.
Pentagram City possessed the strange quality of looking different every time I crossed it while fundamentally remaining the same pit filled with neon lights, noise, and sinners convinced that dying constituted an excellent excuse to abandon whatever limits they might once have possessed while alive.
The streets were crowded.
Glowing signs covered almost every façade, and several enormous screens displayed advertisements that probably would have caused a few additional heart attacks back on Earth.
A car passed close enough to splash the sidewalk with a substance I preferred not to identify, while two demons fought in front of a shop without anyone around them giving the scene more than a distracted glance.
A perfectly ordinary day.
I still had nearly an hour before meeting my lieutenant and no particular reason to return immediately to the domain.
I knew an establishment a few streets away whose owner at least had the decency not to water down his alcohol, which already represented a considerable advantage in this city.
The bar was fairly busy when I entered, though not enough to become unbearable.
Music that was far too loud came from speakers mounted near the ceiling, and the red glow of the neon lights gave the place an atmosphere that probably would have seemed sordid anywhere else.
Here, it was almost respectable.
I had barely taken a few steps toward the counter when a familiar voice cut through the noise.
“Well, shit.
Look who came down to drink with the common folk.”
I stopped.
Angel Dust occupied a stool near the far end of the counter, one leg crossed over the other and a glass in hand.
He wore his usual outfit and appeared to have decided that the amount of space normally required by one person was more of a suggestion than a rule, several of his arms resting on the counter while another held his drink.
His enormous smile widened when he recognized me.
“Never thought I’d see the day when Madam Overlord came down from her castle to get wasted in a dump like this.
Does Charlie know?
‘Cause I’m pretty sure she’s gonna wanna throw a fuckin’ party to celebrate.”
I resumed walking and sat two stools away.
“I’ve been drinking since long before Charlie knew I existed, Angel.”
He placed a hand against his chest with a scandalized expression.
“Wait, wait.
You actually drink?
Like, voluntarily?”
I turned my head toward him.
“No.
Usually my officers tie me to a chair and pour whiskey down my throat to maintain troop morale.”
He remained silent for a second.
Then burst out laughing loudly enough to attract the attention of two customers.
“Oh, fuck, okay!
I really thought you were gonna give me that little general stare of yours and say some boring shit about discipline.”
The bartender approached.
I ordered a whiskey, neat, before returning my attention to Angel.
“I can also lecture you about discipline if you prefer.”
His smile immediately became considerably more suggestive.
“Depends.
What kind of discipline are we talkin’ about?
‘Cause if you’re keeping the uniform on, I can be very open-minded.”
I took the glass the bartender had just placed in front of me and drank a small sip before answering.
“Considering your profession, I would have expected you to come up with a better opening line.
If that’s genuinely your usual standard, Valentino should demand a refund on your training.”
This time, Angel didn’t answer immediately.
His eyebrows rose slightly.
Then his smile returned.
“Oh…
you’re way funnier when the princess isn’t around.”
“Charlie has a tendency to alter the atmosphere of a room.”
“Yeah, that’s a polite way of saying she looks at you like a puppy somebody just threatened every time someone says ‘cock.'”
I let out a laugh into my glass.
He was probably right.
Angel shifted one stool closer without actually asking permission.
I didn’t stop him.
I hadn’t come here looking for company, but I had nothing against his and, unlike Charlie, he didn’t appear to intend to use this encounter as an opportunity to explain why every demon in Hell deserved a second chance.
At first, we talked about perfectly useless things.
Angel wanted to know what I was doing in the city.
I vaguely told him about my business meeting, which interested him for approximately twenty seconds before he decided that industrial negotiations were probably the least sexy thing he had heard about all week.
I asked why he was here and received an explanation long enough for me to eventually understand that he had simply wanted to get away from the hotel for a few hours.
The conversation then drifted toward drinks, establishments around Pentagram City, and several places Angel considered acceptable provided one never used the bathrooms.
I hadn’t asked for further details.
He gave them to me anyway.
After a while, I mostly began observing the way he behaved whenever our conversation didn’t occupy his full attention.
Angel talked a lot.
An enormous amount, in fact.
He filled silences easily, threw jokes at any stranger close enough to hear them, and turned almost any subject into a sexual innuendo with an ease that could have been mistaken for a complete inability to take anything seriously.
His eyes, however, were constantly working.
Every time the door opened, his gaze briefly moved toward it before returning to me.
When a particularly loud group entered the bar, he identified their weapons almost immediately without interrupting his story.
He also knew which customers to avoid, which ones could be provoked without consequences, and which ones deserved a certain amount of distance.
Even when he looked completely relaxed, he watched the exits.
I knew that behavior.
Not exactly in this form, obviously.
I had never survived in the environment Angel belonged to, and I certainly wasn’t going to pretend I understood his life after a few conversations.
But I recognized someone who had learned never to consider a room completely safe.
Angel wasn’t stupid.
I had never really thought he was, but I was beginning to understand just how easily the image he presented could make people forget that obvious fact.
He was halfway through a particularly graphic description of an establishment in a district I rarely visited when his gaze moved past my shoulder.
His smile didn’t disappear.
It simply changed.
Barely.
I followed his gaze without immediately turning my head.
Four sinners had just entered.
There was nothing particularly remarkable about them.
Street clothes, several visible weapons, and enough scars to show they had survived a few bad decisions without belonging to any significant organization.
One of them recognized Angel.
His expression hardened.
Angel sighed.
“Oh, fuck…”
I calmly took another sip.
“Friends?”
“You know how it is.
I’m popular.”
“Your enthusiasm is convincing.”
The four men approached the counter.
Their leader looked at Angel first, then at me.
I saw the exact moment he recognized me.
His posture changed enough to confirm that he possessed at least a few functioning brain cells.
His shoulders relaxed slightly, and the hand that had moved closer to his weapon shifted away from it.
“Ma’am.”
I simply inclined my head.
He looked at Angel.
“We need to talk.”
Angel rolled his glass between his fingers.
“Fuck, Ricky, how long’s it been?
And that’s how you say hello?
No flowers, no dinner, not even a little slap on the ass?
I’m hurt.”
The man didn’t seem amused.
“You know why I’m here.”
“I got several theories, but most of ’em involve you finally accepting your feelings for me.”
Two of his men looked ready to step forward.
Their leader raised a hand to stop them before looking at me again.
“This doesn’t concern you.
It’s old business between him and us.
We’re not looking for trouble with you or your territory.”
That was considerably smarter than some of the idiots I had dealt with before.
I put down my glass.
“In that case, don’t cause any trouble with me and we won’t have any.”
Angel turned toward me with an expression of exaggerated offense.
“Seriously?
Not even a little ‘leave my poor Angel alone’?”
“You seem perfectly capable of speaking for yourself.”
“Cruel.
Really fuckin’ cruel.
Charlie would’ve started a whole speech already.”
“And you probably would’ve left halfway through the second paragraph.”
His smile widened.
“You’re startin’ to know me pretty well.”
He finished his drink and climbed off the stool.
Before following the four men, he leaned slightly toward me.
“If I’m not back in ten minutes, you can have my drink.”
I looked at the empty glass.
“How generous.”
Angel laughed and followed the group outside.
I didn’t move.
It wasn’t my business.
I knew neither the origin of the conflict nor Angel’s responsibility in it, and the simple fact that I knew him did not automatically transform every problem in his life into a problem for the Dominion.
I ordered a second whiskey.
That didn’t stop me from choosing a seat where the reflection in the window allowed me to see part of the street.
Angel was talking with the four men.
The conversation remained relatively calm for almost two minutes.
Then one of the sinners shoved Angel.
Bad idea.
Angel took a step back, his smile still present, and said something I couldn’t hear through the window.
The man shoved him a second time.
Angel punched him in the face.
The situation deteriorated with admirable speed.
I turned my stool slightly for a better view.
Two of the men lunged at him almost simultaneously.
Angel avoided the first, used two of his arms to grab the second, and threw him against a car parked beside the sidewalk.
A weapon appeared in another hand while he continued fighting the others.
He was good.
Not merely fast.
Good.
His four arms obviously allowed movements impossible for an ordinary humanoid opponent, but more importantly, he knew how to exploit that advantage.
One pair could restrain someone while the other struck or fired, and he constantly used his surroundings to prevent all four men from surrounding him.
I drank calmly.
Ricky took a blow hard enough to send him into the wall.
A second man tried to circle around Angel and found a barrel under his chin.
Angel didn’t fire.
Instead, he drove a knee into him before throwing him to the ground.
I was beginning to think my intervention genuinely wouldn’t be necessary.
Then a fifth man appeared at the end of the street.
He was running toward them.
A sixth followed.
Then two more.
I sighed.
Of course.
Angel saw them too.
His expression changed, but he didn’t panic.
He simply backed into a position that allowed him to keep a wall behind him and drew a second weapon.
I left a few coins on the counter and finished my drink.
It was probably time to step outside.
By the time I reached the door, Angel had just shot one of the newcomers in the leg.
Two others had realized that approaching him directly was a bad idea and were trying to flank him.
Ricky, his face bloody, got back to his feet while swearing.
“You fucking bitch, you could’ve just paid!”
Angel burst out laughing despite his heavier breathing.
“I could’ve, but that would’ve been way less fun!”
So that was the origin of the problem.
Probably.
With Angel, I wasn’t entirely certain that “paying” necessarily involved money.
I leaned against the wall near the bar entrance without intervening.
Angel noticed me.
“Oh, great!
You came out to watch the show?”
“I wanted to see whether I could actually claim your drink.”
“Touching.”
One of the men took advantage of the distraction to attack.
Angel saw him coming and shot him in the shoulder.
I had to admit that Charlie was hiding more dangerous people in her hotel than she herself seemed to realize.
The fight probably would have continued for several more minutes without any consequence beyond a considerable amount of blood and several medical bills nobody would ever pay.
Then one of the newcomers pulled something from beneath his coat.
I recognized it immediately.
A short blade.
The pale metal gave off the faintest glow.
Angelic steel.
My amusement disappeared.
The sinner moved toward Angel while the latter exchanged fire with two other opponents.
He held the blade low, intelligently enough that Angel didn’t immediately notice it.
I pushed away from the wall.
My pistol appeared in my hand before I had even completed the first three steps.
“That’s enough.”
I hadn’t shouted.
I didn’t need to.
Several heads turned toward me.
The man holding the blade stopped.
I continued forward until I was close enough to see the weapon clearly.
“Until now, I was perfectly willing to let you settle your old business among yourselves.
Angel clearly didn’t need me to deal with a few angry men, and I had no reason to turn your dispute into a personal matter.”
I pointed my weapon toward the ground rather than at them.
The message was obvious regardless.
“But one of you just drew an angelic weapon in a fight that didn’t require one.
From this moment onward, we are no longer talking about a debt, an insult, or whatever other bullshit brought you here.
We’re talking about permanently killing someone I know while I’m standing less than ten meters away.”
Nobody moved.
Neither did Angel.
I looked directly at the owner of the blade.
“Put it away.”
The blade disappeared beneath his coat.
Ricky wiped the blood from his nose and looked at his men before returning his attention to me.
“We didn’t want to involve you.”
“Then you still have the opportunity to keep that promise.
Take your wounded, leave, and consider your conversation with Angel finished for today.
Whatever happens the next time you meet doesn’t concern me as long as I’m not there.”
He looked like he wanted to say something.
Then he looked at my weapon, and afterward at my face.
The deliberation was brief.
“We’re leaving.”
His men collected those who had trouble walking.
No heroic declaration.
No idiot trying to prove he had bigger balls than the Overlord standing in front of him.
They left.
Like people who still possessed at least some attachment to their continued existence.
I let my weapon disappear.
Angel put his own guns away before looking at me.
“Well… I was gonna win.”
“I know.”
His response seemed to become trapped somewhere between his mouth and his brain.
He blinked.
“Huh?”
I headed back toward the bar.
“You had the situation under control before their reinforcements arrived, and even afterward you positioned yourself properly to avoid being surrounded.
I didn’t move because you didn’t need me.”
Angel followed me, slightly more slowly.
“Then why’d you go all big scary military mommy on them?”
I pushed open the door.
“Because angelic steel changes the rules.
An ordinary bullet would have injured you and you would eventually have recovered.
That blade could have made the situation considerably more permanent, and I had no desire to explain to Charlie that I watched you die because I was absolutely determined to respect your independence to the point of absurdity.”
Angel remained silent for a moment.
Then his smile returned.
“So you care about me.”
I reclaimed my place at the counter.
“Don’t ruin the moment.”
He sat beside me.
“Too late, baby.
I’m gonna treasure this forever.
Tanya the Terrible has a little heart under that uniform.”
I raised two fingers toward the bartender.
“Another whiskey.
And something strong enough to make him shut up.”
Angel pressed two hands against his chest.
“No alcohol has ever accomplished that.”
“Then Hell is suffering from a tragic lack of innovation.”
He laughed.
Something had nevertheless changed in his behavior this time.
He continued joking, taking up too much space, and talking loudly enough for several customers to follow our conversation whether they wanted to or not.
But I noticed he wasn’t trying quite as hard to turn every sentence into a provocation.
He was still Angel.
Just slightly less of a performance.
“For the record,” he said after receiving another drink, “Ricky’s an asshole, but I might actually have a tiny bit of responsibility for this.”
“I assumed as much.”
“Hey!
You could at least pretend you believe I’m an innocent victim.”
“I saw your smile when he mentioned paying.”
Angel rolled his glass between his fingers.
“Let’s just say I won a card game against one of his buddies.”
I looked at him.
“You cheated.”
“What a scandalous accusation.”
“How much?”
“Technically, the question should be: how much were they able to prove?”
I sighed.
He burst out laughing.
“Okay, maybe I gave luck a little help.
But those fuckers were cheating too, so morally, I figure it cancels out.”
“That is a fascinating interpretation of justice.”
“Welcome to Hell, doll.”
I couldn’t help laughing.
He raised his glass toward me as though he had just won an extremely important debate.
The conversation resumed much more naturally afterward.
Angel told me about several districts of Pentagram City I mostly knew through reports.
He had spent enough time in clubs, studios, bars, and more questionable establishments to know parts of the city in a way entirely different from mine.
I knew the trade routes, the territories of the major Overlords, the infrastructure, the industrial districts, and the places where men could be moved without attracting too much attention.
Angel knew the places where a waiter could hear a piece of information before the people involved even knew it was circulating.
He knew which clubs served as neutral ground between certain groups, which streets became dangerous after a certain hour, and which establishments officially belonged to one person while actually working for another.
“I’m going to have to admit something that will probably make you insufferable,” I eventually said.
He immediately straightened.
“Oh, fuck, I already love this sentence.”
“You know certain parts of this city much better than I do.”
Angel slowly put down his glass.
Then his smile stretched almost from ear to ear.
“Could you repeat that?
Slower this time.
I’d like to engrave it into my memory.”
“I’ve changed my mind.”
“Too late!
I heard it.
The great Overlord just admitted I’m better than her at something.”
“Knowing the brothels of Pentagram City isn’t exactly a skill I was trying to develop.”
“Hey, respect my professional expertise.”
I shook my head with a smile.
A few minutes passed before Angel asked a considerably less ridiculous question.
“Seriously, why do you keep coming to the hotel?”
I rolled my glass between my fingers.
“Because Charlie keeps inviting me.”
“Yeah, I noticed that.
She’d probably invite a cannibal over for tea if they promised not to eat the dishes.
But you keep saying yes.”
I thought for a few seconds.
The answer wasn’t particularly complicated.
“I still don’t believe her project will work.
I’ve seen no evidence that a sinner can actually be sent to Heaven simply because they become a better person, and I’m not going to pretend otherwise just to make her happy.”
Angel nodded slightly.
He didn’t seem offended.
I continued.
“But Charlie herself interests me.
She possesses enough power and status to crush a large portion of the people who cause her problems, yet she almost systematically chooses another method.
I find it deeply inefficient at times, frequently naïve, and regularly exhausting to watch… but interesting.”
Angel smiled.
“Yeah.
Sounds like her.”
“And some of the hotel’s residents have turned out to be less annoying than expected.”
He immediately placed an elbow on the counter.
“Oh?
Some residents?”
I knew exactly what was coming.
“Don’t start.”
“Me?
Never.
I’m just asking whether a gorgeous four-armed adult entertainer might happen to be one of those mysterious residents.”
I looked him up and down.
“Let’s say I’ve just discovered that you’re considerably less incompetent than you work so hard to appear.”
Angel went silent.
Then he raised his glass.
“Fuck.
I think that’s the nicest compliment you’ve ever given me.”
“Enjoy it.
There probably won’t be many.”
“I’m framing it.”
His phone vibrated on the counter.
I probably wouldn’t have paid it any attention if Angel hadn’t changed almost immediately.
His smile remained.
But his body stiffened slightly.
He looked at the screen.
I caught only one name before he turned the phone over.
Valentino.
The transformation lasted less than two seconds.
Angel picked up his glass and resumed talking as though nothing had happened.
I asked no questions.
I knew Valentino by reputation, as did almost everyone who had spent enough time moving within Pentagram City’s circles of power.
One of the Vees, owner of a considerable portion of the city’s pornography industry, and an Overlord important enough for his name to appear regularly in reports.
I also knew Angel worked for him.
What I didn’t know was why a simple message was enough to provoke that reaction.
I kept the information to myself.
If Angel wanted to tell me, he would.
And if he didn’t, dragging information out of him in a bar wasn’t going to improve anything.
The door opened around ten minutes later.
My lieutenant entered.
He quickly scanned the room before spotting me.
Then he saw Angel.
His lack of eyes made his expressions considerably less obvious than those of an ordinary demon, but after all these years, I knew perfectly well when he was reassessing a situation.
Angel, naturally, noticed too.
“Oh!
Sexy Chauffeur is back.”
My lieutenant approached.
“Good evening, Angel Dust.”
Angel looked at me.
“He knows my name!
I knew I made a good impression.”
“The entire Dominion probably knows your name since Charlie started visiting us.”
“So you guys talk about me?”
I finished my drink.
“Mostly as a logistical risk.”
“I’m taking that as a compliment.”
My lieutenant stopped beside us.
“The delivery is correct.
The remaining crates will be transferred tomorrow morning.”
“Perfect.”
Angel leaned toward him.
“Tell me, big and creepy, is she always this uptight when she’s working, or does she ever have days where she pulls the stick out?”
I slowly turned my head.
My lieutenant remained perfectly serious.
“I’m not authorized to disclose strategic information concerning my commander.”
Angel froze for half a second before exploding with laughter.
I stared at my lieutenant.
“You think you’re very funny, don’t you?”
“I was answering his question.”
“Of course.”
Angel now had two hands on the counter to keep himself upright.
“Fuck, I love him!
Charlie never told me your soldiers had a sense of humor.”
“Charlie doesn’t know them well enough to know anything about them.”
“Well, we gotta change that.”
I preferred not to imagine what Angel considered an appropriate way to become acquainted with several thousand soldiers.
I paid for our drinks before he could suggest anything.
When we stepped outside, traces of the fight were still visible in the street, but Ricky and his men were long gone.
Our vehicle was waiting a few streets away.
Angel was clearly about to head in the opposite direction when I stopped him.
“The hotel is almost on our way.
Get in.”
He turned around.
“You’re driving me home now?
Careful, I’m gonna start thinking this is a date.”
“It’s an armored vehicle with my lieutenant driving.
If that’s your definition of romance, I understand considerably more about your love life.”
Angel considered that and shrugged.
“I’ve had worse.”
I had absolutely no doubt.
The drive to the Hazbin Hotel was considerably less quiet than the journey into the city.
Angel quickly discovered that my lieutenant actually answered when spoken to and immediately set about testing exactly how far that characteristic extended.
He asked about his uniform, his rank, his weapon, how he could see without eyes, and, after approximately five minutes, whether all my soldiers possessed exactly the same smile.
My lieutenant answered some questions and ignored others with a patience I personally found admirable.
“So you really don’t have eyes,” Angel continued from the back seat.
“Like, nothin’ at all?
No little things hidden under the shadow?”
“No.”
“And you can still see?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
The lieutenant paused briefly.
“Very well.”
Angel looked at me.
“He’s doing this on purpose.”
“I know.”
“Fuck, I thought you were the pain in the ass of the group.”
I turned toward the window to hide my smile.
When the hotel finally appeared at the end of the street, Angel almost seemed disappointed that the journey was over.
The vehicle stopped in front of the entrance.
He opened the door, then remained seated for a second before looking at me.
His expression was still light, but his voice lost a small amount of its usual exaggeration.
“Next round’s on me.”
I understood perfectly well what he actually meant.
I certainly wasn’t going to make the situation awkward by demanding a more explicit formulation.
“I’ll remember that.
And try not to cheat at cards with people carrying angelic steel before that next round.”
He smiled.
“No promises on the first part.”
“Obviously.”
Angel climbed out and closed the door before leaning toward the window.
“Night, Miniature General.
Night, Sexy No-Eyes.”
My lieutenant inclined his head.
“Good night, Angel Dust.”
I raised one finger.
“If that nickname spreads, I’ll know exactly who to kill.”
Angel burst out laughing as he backed toward the hotel.
“Kisses, Tanya!”
The vehicle started moving again.
I watched him reach the entrance in the rearview mirror before the hotel disappeared behind a building.
My lieutenant waited a few seconds.
“He’s less insufferable than I expected.”
I turned toward him.
“Never tell him that.”
“I had no intention of doing so.”
I watched Pentagram City slide past the window.
Angel really was different from the image he constantly presented.
He remained vulgar, excessive, provocative, and perfectly capable of creating a large portion of his own problems.
Nothing I had seen tonight changed that.
But he was also observant, intelligent, capable in a fight, and far more aware of his surroundings than he let people believe.
And then there had been that message.
Valentino.
I didn’t yet know what lay behind that reaction, and I had no reason to start digging into Angel’s life simply because I had noticed something.
So I left the information where it was.
In the back of my mind.
Hell had taught me long ago that a piece of information that seemed unimportant one evening could become extremely useful a few weeks later.
For now, I had mostly discovered that spending several hours drinking with Angel Dust was considerably more enjoyable than I would ever have imagined.
Which, on reflection, was probably the most disturbing information of the entire evening.