The time came again for Shantael to report her progress to her direct superior. Uriel listened with some interest.

"Since peacetime continues, my unit has mostly been focused on bettering the lives of humankind," Shantael explained. "We've started local. I'm happy to say that, thanks in part to our efforts, the crime rate in New Orleans has decreased, more food pantries are stocked, and revenues through tourism have increased."

Uriel nodded. "That is exceptional work, Shantael. But you always bring your best, and we have expected no less from you since your return to Heaven."

Shantael beamed. "I appreciate that very much, General."

Uriel tapped his fingers against the desk. Office space in Heaven was more of an abstract concept. This was the origin of the open floor plan.

"Is there some way that I can improve?" Shantael asked. The relative silence had her unnerved.
"Not at all, Lieutenant," Uriel replied. "You've done beautiful work. So much so, in fact, that we are interested in transferring you out of New Orleans."

"Really?" Shantael frowned. "I... guess that's an honor. But... why? Where would you move us to?"

"Oh, that's not quite settled yet," Uriel answered with a wave of his hand. "It's just an idea my brothers and I have been throwing around."

Shantael did not miss the backpedal. "Which alternative places came up in discussion? Just so I can prepare my troops in case," she added as if to seem less distressed by the possible move.

"To Los Angeles, or Sacramento, or Kansas City, if we kept you in the States," Uriel answered. "Otherwise, Glasgow, or Madrid, or some similar place more impactful to human society. We would request your input, of course, if we did give this earnest consideration."

"Of course," Shantael said.

"We do ask, officially, that you continue training your unit and rehearsing with other units in case of conflict," Uriel continued. "As you know, there is a matter with the Nephilim that may spill over soon. Your troops are stationed closest to their known headquarters at the moment."

Shantael nodded.

"How has Gabriel been?" Uriel asked.

"He's improving," Shantael sighed. "But he has a long road ahead."

"We know it." Uriel rubbed his temples. "The extent to which Satan was able to affect him is... surprising. But he will recover well, and soon. We are certain of it."

"If I may," Shantael said, her tone wary and her words careful, "once Gabriel is readmitted to Heaven, will he have access to continued care?"

Uriel's lips drew into creases. But he returned evenly, "How long would you expect him to need such care?"

Shantael balked. A long moment passed in silence. Then she said, "He was in the Hellhole for years, Uriel. It will take him years to recover."

Uriel leaned back in his chair.

"But he won't need as much here," Shantael added quickly. "Jael and I will help him get through the toughest patch on Earth. When he's back here, he'll probably still need your patience and understanding. That's all I really mean."

Uriel relaxed and nodded. "That is excellent to hear, Lieutenant. We have missed Gabriel. And, of course, it is his season now."

"That it is," Shantael said.

"The past few winters have been difficult without him. We each shouldered the extra burden. It stretched our resources." Uriel shook his head. "Yes, he is sorely needed. We hope to have him back by the beginning of the new year."

"Of course," Shantael said, masking her incredulousness with a bog-standard response.

"Do you have anything else to report?"

"No, General."

"Very well. Thank you, Shantael."

By the time Shantael made it through the portal into New Orleans, her jaw was stinging from her clenching it. She walked toward her house, a few blocks away, so lost in thought that she did not notice the person who fell into step with her.

"No good news from Heaven, I take it."

Shantael jumped, but the voice was so familiar that she did not reach for a blade. "Belial! What are you doing here?"

"I was waiting for you," Belial replied as if that should have been obvious. "With Gabriel in your care, I feared that Uriel would be less than compromising."

Shantael weighed her response. This was unusual, but only because she did not discuss her dealings in Heaven with anyone. She would have discussed them with Jael, but her still-fallen best friend might have treated her tales with jealousy.

Of Gabriel's former allies, only Shantael had come out of the troubles with a net positive gain. This was because Jael and Ariel had no one other than Gabriel to vouch for their loyalties. But two different parties came to Shantael's defense. Averel, Raphael's right-hand angel and Heaven's current Accuser, had confirmed to the archangels that Shantael did throw a battle against her, at grievous injury, to keep the demons from joining Satan's forces. Belial, who had healed the wounds Shantael gained from that, had stated the same. Belial was the least trusted fallen by far, but the archangels could appreciate the word of an archfallen when it was supported by the more reputable Averel. So Shantael and her troops were restored to Heaven, but Jael and Ariel were not.

The unusual friendship between Shantael and Belial stemmed from that same incident. Neither the angels nor the fallen liked it. But Shantael was trusted by Heaven, and Belial was too powerful for even Satan to topple.

"Uriel has interesting ideas," Shantael answered at length. "He says the archangels are thinking about deploying us somewhere else."

Belial's lips twisted. "Somewhere more important than this?"

Shantael glared. "You take that back!"

"I'm only repeating what I've heard. Myself, I like New Orleans." Belial shrugged. "But to those in power, this place is vile. It's teeming with nonhumans and unscrupulous powerful things. It isn't particularly wealthy, and it doesn't particularly venerate the Throne aside from specific pockets of influence, and it doesn't particularly contribute to the human economy aside from providing somewhere decent to party. And given the environmental troubles, some even wonder why anyone chooses to live here at all."

"Not everyone has a choice," Shantael shot back. "That's part of the problem."

"Shantael, you mistake me. As a reminder, 'devil's advocate' is my day job." Belial put up his hands in a defensive gesture. "I'm trying to point out why their moving you away from New Orleans is problematic. This city, and many others like it, has always seemed to them to be 'lesser,' and they treat it as such."

"The archangels? I suppose. I mean, I don't like the idea either, but I have to do what they tell me to do."

"But you don't have to, Shantael. There is always another path."

They reached the corner of Shantael's block. Belial stopped. "How is Gabriel?"

Shantael eyed him. "He could use more friends."

"Noted. I'll return." Belial took a step backward and vanished into a teleport.

Shantael sighed, tucked her hands into her pockets, and approached the house, wary that some fresh drama was soon to envelop her.

---

The dinner was laid out like a small feast, a show of Satan's power. Fallen seldom needed to eat, so the amount of options offered was quite unnecessary. The portions were small, however. But the visual was enough, with the trays and dishes spread all along the length of the table even though only three people would be seated there.

Belial had worn one of his best suits, not because he was trying to impress Satan or because he thought it was suitable, but because he knew Satan would be offended by anything less. He had instructed his date to do the same, and, knowing Satan much better than she did, had carefully picked out an evening gown for her. The gown was mostly a dark blue, but with sparkles shining here and there; not rhinestones and not sequins, but bits of silver woven into the fabric.

Aelaniel wore the dress beautifully, Belial noted, as its slender shape hugged her curves and its neck dipped low, but left much covered in order not to give away too much. They entered the dining hall arm in arm, and found Satan waiting for them at the head of the table. "Join me, my honored guests," he said grandly, gesturing for one to sit on each side of him. Belial had expected that.

"I have heard much about you, Aelaniel," Satan said with a pleasant smile. Belial knew that to be a lie. "I must say that you are more stunning than I had imagined even with his descriptions of you, especially in that lovely gown."

Aelaniel gave a small curtsy. "Your compliments are the highest of honors to me, great Prince."

Satan beamed. Nothing pleased him more than a sizable amount of ego-stroking. Belial and Aelaniel had rehearsed this. "Let us sit and eat, and share conversation."

Fallen servants moved quickly about the table, pouring wine and setting places just right, doing their best to blend into the scenery, for fear of upsetting their master. For his part, Satan ignored them completely. "So, tell me, Belial, where did you find this lovely woman?"

"She is one of the overseers in the Second Circle. I met her during one of my patrols." Belial took walks--not specifically patrols--through the circles of Hell, a habit he had formed some ages earlier, but which had become much more frequent over the past year. Although Satan saw much, Belial doubted the supreme ruler of Hell had noticed that particular change. Satan himself seldom traveled among the Circles, and spent little time among them. Every time Belial walked among the circles, there were noticeably more souls there. That put matters in all the realms into much better perspective for him. Aelaniel knew of this, but knew better than to clarify on the topic any more than Belial did.

"The Second Circle. I see." Satan gazed upon Aelaniel with new interest. The Second Circle of Hell was the one reserved for those who in life had been ruled by their lusts. "And what is it you do there, fair Aelaniel?"

"Not much, I must say, with all due respect. I simply watch those souls as they blow about in the wind. There is little chance of their escaping, and... well, I have seen little of the other circles, but those souls held in mine have little wish of escaping. They are most often kept there with those who had been their lovers in life, and even in that terrible wind, they reach for and sometimes even cradle each other. It is a strange thing to watch."

"Indeed. I had not looked upon it in such a light. You have an astute mind and perceptive eyes, Aelaniel." Satan raised a glass to her. "Belial, you have found a most entertaining and worthy consort."

"Thank you," Belial said graciously, raising his glass as well. Aelaniel blushed prettily but raised her glass as well.

"To happiness," Satan said with a hollow smile, "of a sort so rarely found in Hell."

They are and drank and conversed on topics great and small, and all left the dining hall with spirits a good deal lifted than before. Satan, however, had designs of his own. He watched as Belial and Aelaniel left the hall, then immediately parted ways, certainly to see each other again later that evening. Satan took a side exit and met Aelaniel as she made her way from the dining hall. "Before you take your leave of our circle, Aelaniel...."

Aelaniel turned around, a bright smile on her lips, her black hair falling around her shoulders as she moved. Satan could not help the small smirk that crept into his smile as he approached her. There were many beautiful fallen in Hell, but she was certainly one of the most among them. How Belial had chanced upon her before him, he did not know, but few of those most exquisite fallen spent their existence in Hell without crossing paths with their overlord.

Of course, such meetings never ended well for them.

There was no reason the ruler of Hell should not have his own pick of the best Hell had to offer, after all, even if that choice was one attached to his own third-in-command. That attachment, in fact, would make this victory all the sweeter. He had no intention of hiding it. Belial had grown far too bold since his predictions regarding Satan's latest attempt on Heaven had proven true; he had to be reminded of his place as inferior to Satan. All that remained was the fair fallen woman's cooperation, which he would have, whether by choice or by force.

"Yes, Great Leader?" Aelaniel asked, that same gentle sparkle alight in her eyes. Satan imagined what it would be like to see that light lose its focus, to grow dim and dark with pleasure and need as he moved inside her. The thought brought its own brand of darkness to Satan's eyes.

"You spoke of your work in the Second Circle," Satan said as he drew closer to her. "Tell me, do those creatures ever act on their lusts even as they suffer their punishments?"

"Oh, yes, my lord. It is difficult in that terrible wind, but many of them do attempt to sate their lusts... and, at times, they do." She gave him a sly smile. "For a time, at least."

"I am intrigued," Satan told her. "I expect you will show me some of these acts you have seen."

"I would be honored, Great Prince," Aelaniel said humbly, with a bow of her head. When she raised her head again, the sparkle still in her eyes, but now held within a look of mischief. "I could show you those, and more I have learned, the likes of which my lord may not have been acquainted with as yet."

Satan raised his eyebrows. This was an unexpected but pleasant surprise. "Accompany me to my chambers, fair one, and we will see who is acquainted with what."

Aelaniel chuckled. "And what of my plans with Belial?"

"Tell him," Satan said, taking her arm in his and stroking her hand, "that you were otherwise engaged."