CHAPTER FIVE: THE DEVIL'S ADVOCATE

ST. AGNES' CHURCH
PARK SLOPE, BROOKLYN, NEW YORK

THE racing New York skyline never failed to make Henrietta nostalgic. But something was wrong tonight. Every year without fail, Siobhan and Henrietta had frequented the same coffee shop during the start of Halloween week and ordered the same thing. Without fail. But this year, without Siobhan, it felt colder. Resting on the passenger seat as a reminder was a holder containing two styrofoam cups of coffee.

It was October 28. For most people, it was an uneventful day if you did not take into account the Halloween candy or costume shopping. But for Henrietta and Siobhan, it marked an anniversary. The first time they had met had been on October 28, so long ago now. Henrietta sighed as she parked the car and ducked out of the driver's seat.

She tended to avoid looking at the structure in front of her as much as possible but on days like these, it was allowed. On days when you carried with you the news of Lucifer possibly getting freed, it was allowed. She trailed her eyes up the spiraling spires taking in the grand white marble structure of the church. Something stung in her whenever she did though, a very large longing ─ as if a crypt had been dug in her chest and never filled.

She rubbed her hands together, it was starting to get chilly.

The sound of Zepplin, her cherry Chevelle's engine, must have alerted Siobhan because she came down the front steps as soon as Henrietta shut the car door behind her. It didn't close. She shut it again. It still didn't close. She slammed it. Then she looked at Siobhan. "You shouldn't have let Jay cut your hair, it looks terrible."

Siobhan laughed. "And you shouldn't have cut your stay in the land of enlightenment. You were so close to growing a conscience."

Henrietta grinned and pulled her special lighter, lighting a smoke, and leaning back against Zepplin's body. "New York . . . " She looked back up at the church spires, still feeling that larger-than-life emptiness in her caving chest. "Never ceases to entertain." Siobhan chuckled quietly to herself as she reached in through the open passenger side window and picked up her coffee cup. Henrietta took a drag out of her cigarette then watched the smoke rise delicately up above.

Siobhan popped open the trunk to reveal an armory enclosed under a false bottom. As she checked the inventory, Henrietta mulled over the thoughts of whether to disclose newfound information to her or not. What would she say, anyway? Hey, Shiv, the world might be ending soon and there's this demon Lilith trying to free Lucifer ─ who, incidentally, is the one with the bounty on my soul.

Henrietta opened and closed her chilly fists. The top edges of her fingerless gloves were fraying. October tended to be mildly cold with autumn leaves gathered at every corner and the world painted in a splash of sunset reds and oranges. But not today. Today it felt like winter. Of course, she had told Siobhan about the Revelations omens and The Rising Of The Witnesses. Of course, she had told her about the Apocalypse. She had failed to mention one teeny-tiny detail learned afterward. Lucifer.

Henrietta glanced at her watch, then at the church, then towards Siobhan who was placing her almost empty coffee cup on top of the car. She narrowed her pale blue eyes at the brunette and grabbed the cup off, tossing it into the trash can nearby.

"Hey!" Siobhan protested. "There was still a little left!"

"You should have thought about that before keeping it on Zepplin," Henrietta said nonchalantly over her shoulder as she dropped the cigarette on the asphalt, crushing it with the toes of her shoes. She grabbed her own coffee from inside the car, no more piping hot but still warm, just how she liked it, and continued up the stairs and into the church.

Siobhan stood, the trunk still popped open and duffle bags full of clothes and weapons resting inside. She yelled after the redhead, "There are four bags. I have two hands. This give you any ideas?"

Henrietta looked over her shoulder and shrugged, "Make two trips?" Giving her a teasing smile, she started back in. 

Siobhan grabbed one duffle bag, the clothes one, and slammed the trunk shut. Cursing under her breath, she followed her friend. "You really should start paying me for this."

"Well, I don't know," Henrietta mocked, "what's the going rate for saving a psychic hanging from her fingernails about to be swallowed into the jaws of Hell?" Before Siobhan could answer with some quippy reply, Henrietta's blue eyes caught the figure of Father Andrew Parrish. A smile almost instantly settled on her face. "Hey, Father."

Andrew looked up at her and smiled. The worry creases between his eyebrows that had been there since she had left now somewhat started to disappear. He wouldn't tell her, but he really did worry about her sometimes. How could he tell her? He couldn't even get her to sit still for more than thirty minutes at a time. But he did worry about her. Henrietta lived her life as if she had nine of them ─ not that he disagreed with her helping people. Only if she could help herself in the process. He had tried to tell her so many times that this was not the way to tip the scales.

But Henrietta was an animal of habit. She had learned to bite the hand that fed her.

Taking the bag from Siobhan's hands, Henrietta took a door at the very far corner of the room. From here a staircase ascended, hidden from view if you didn't know it was there. A lodging room sat nestled at the very top, above the office of St. Agnes' Church. It had everything Henrietta needed. She shut the door behind her and shuffled inside, tossing the keys on the table and setting the bag down on the floor.

Freeing her hair from its prison, she let it hang loose to her shoulders. Making her way to the bathroom, she discarded all grime and dust-covered clothes and changed into a different pair of black jeans. All this while, there was only one thought on her mind. What would happen if Lucifer got free? 66 seals breaking, how could that happen? How could she let it? How could anybody let it? The world was already on the expressway to its demise, Lucifer would ─ Henrietta couldn't even bring herself to think it.

Of course, there was also the matter of her soul after all this. But what could you do when the Devil had a bounty on your soul and was plotting to break out of his prison? Henrietta sighed. Keep fighting, she guessed as she passed by and her eyes grazed over her reflection in the mirror. She came to a fast halt. Her pale bare arms stood out in the minimal light in the room. Not much muscle, but curling around her skin were raven black ink marks. Elegant tattoos of sigils and runes spiraled and coiled around her body like vines.

This all made her fiery red hair stand out even more, framing her face and her pale blue eyes. She had inherited those from her father ─ the hair and the eyes. Her eyes trailed down her tattooed forearms to her wrists and the scars. She brushed her thumb over it and tried to suppress the red inferno that passed behind her eyes. A voice, helpless, saying, I'm sorry. She remembered broken parts of her Hell, but it was enough.

She stepped away and seized a sheet, tossing it over the mirror and covering it. Grabbing a sweater that was comparatively cleaner and pulling it over her head, she made her way downstairs again.

On the curb, she met Father Parrish again. "Where are you going?"

"Moondance," she told him, pulling open the car door. "I'm hungry." Her stomach growled as if to assert the point. Father Parrish didn't respond. Her eyes narrowed, seeing his expression. Father Parrish's story was as much of a mystery to her as to a stranger. He didn't like talking about it and she couldn't blame him. The girls she had been had tombstones that no one visited. He preferred to spend his time helping others rather than himself. People loved him here in Huntington. Father Andrew Parrish, upstanding citizen. Andy Parrish, a good man.

Henrietta, though, felt utterly responsible for him. She owed him a blood debt and those were never easy to pay. He didn't have anyone to look after him, but he did have too many people to look after. Henrietta would do anything, and she really meant anything, to keep Andrew safe. Her fingers curled around the top of the open Chevelle door. "Everything alright with you?" she asked, but her tone was light.

Andrew waited a moment to answer as if he was evaluating. Then he said, "Yes. Everything's fine."

She wasn't convinced but she shrugged. "Alright, if you say so." She ducked in Zeppelin and jammed the key in the ignition. Her eyes glanced at Andrew again. If someone wanted to know all the tells of lying all they needed was to see Father Parrish attempt. What he put forward though, was exactly how he was. The most genuine and caring person. He was a good man. A good priest. But he had far too much to lose. He could never be an exorcist.

MOONDANCE DINER
CROWN HEIGHTS, BROOKLYN, NEW YORK

THE waitress shuffled away after placing a stack of pancakes in front of Henrietta. She had wanted something sweet and Moondance diner's famous chocolate chip pancakes drenched in maple syrup worked just fine. As she dove in her phone buzzed. Grimacing, she put the mobile device to her ear and answered through a mouthful of food.

"Ghostbusters."

"Are you eating?" Siobhan asked from the other end.

Henrietta hummed as she swallowed. "Pancakes for dinner."

"Nevermind then."

"What?"

"I thought I would invite you for dinner but you've already found a solution to your growling stomach."

"How thoughtful," Henrietta said jokingly. "Jay brought too much food, huh?"

"Too much."

"Yeah." Henrietta stabbed the pancake with her fork as she hung up.

"Mind if I join you?"

Henrietta looked up from under her lashes as she took another bite of her food. A woman stood there, chestnut hair framing her face and a flattering coat defining her figure. The only thing that made her less attractive was that mangled face. Not the one she was wearing no, but the one underneath. Her real face ─ rotten and burned. Henrietta shrugged. "Free country," she said. With the toe of her right foot, she felt the dagger stashed in her left boot for a sense of surety. She didn't know if demons knew she could see their real faces, if she looked hard enough that is. It was undeniably hilarious sometimes and terribly useful, too.

"Yes, it is, Henry," the woman said.

Henrietta furrowed her eyebrows. "Do I know you?" You're a good liar, her father had said to her once. She still didn't know if it had been a compliment or not.

"You don't recognize me?" The demon flashed her black eyes at Henrietta as if that would help.

"Sorry if I have trouble distinguishing one burned face from another," Henrietta answered, gripping her fork tighter. "You all look the same."

"Oh come on, carrot," the woman smiled. "Now you're just embarrassing yourself."

There was only one person who called her that. Well, two, but Henrietta's father was dead so that couldn't be him. She took another long look at the woman and the demonic face behind the one she was wearing. Her grip on the fork relaxed and a grimace settled on her face. "Nyssa?" she asked, half disgusted and half unamused.

Nyssa grinned. "That's the one."

Henrietta rolled her eyes and went back to her pancakes. "Why slither out of your hole this time?"

"Hell's been unsettled since Dean Winchester got pulled out."

Henrietta chuckled at that. It had only been two days since she had met the Winchesters and boy were they famous. Wanted by local and hellish authorities alike, they seemed to have made their mark on the world already. What amused Henrietta more than anything else was how jumpy their names made demons. Especially since Dean got out. "What, they scared?"

"A raid by angels will do that," Nyssa nodded pointedly. Henrietta looked up at her mid-bite and Nyssa shrugged. "What? What did you think pulled him out?"

Henrietta, of course, now knew about angels though some part of her still considered them a lucid dream. But she was a good actress. Three years in a mental institution had taught her a few tricks. She licked the maple syrup off her fork and pointed it at the demon threatningly. "What are you doing here, Nyssa?"

Nyssa put her hands up in mock surrender. "Before you blast me back to Hell, I come bearing information."

Henrietta smacked her lips, exasperated by Nyssa's games. Her "information" was rarely reliable and often got Henrietta in more trouble than it was worth. Still, she played along. "What kind of information?"

"There's chatter among demons. Mostly Lilith's followers." Nyssa seemed to notice when this gained a litte of Henrietta's interest. Her eyebrows quirked minutely. "They're looking for someone."

Henrietta huffed and wiped her mouth with a tissue. "A bounty? That's your news?"

"With what's Lilith's been up to, I imagine it must be pretty important."

"Who are they looking for?"

Nyssa paused for dramatic effect. "The One marked by both Heaven and Hell."

Henrietta paused for her brain to process. She shook her head and raised her eyebrows at the demon. "And?" she asked. "Who is that?"

Nyssa shrugged. "I don't think they know that yet, either."

"So you came here with jack," Henrietta stated with pursed lips and an annoyed face.

Nyssa swiped some maple syrup off Henrietta's plate with her finger and put it in her mouth. "No, I came here to torment you like always." Henrietta reached down and effortlessly drew the dagger from her boot in one quick swipe. Unlike most weapons, this dagger was capable of killing demons thanks to the runes carved on its body and spells cast on it by Siobhan. The runed dagger surely was a trusty companion of Henrietta Wingrave. "Now, now," Nyssa interrupted, "before you go exorcising me, I actually like this body, okay?"

Henrietta raked her eyes over the woman Nyssa was wearing. "Who you riding this time?"

Nyssa looked at herself, examinig the arms and the clothes. "She was a preschool teacher."

"Was?"

"She's dead. Poor thing had a car accident that put her in a coma."

Henrietta gave her a fake smile and snapped sarcastically, "Lucky for her she found you." She sat back suddenly when Nyssa vanished into thin air. Henrietta blinked and looked around, but found her nowhere. She frowned and huffed and stashed her dagger back in her boots. "Demons," she muttered under her breath.

She got up, putting money on the table and shrugging her coat back on. Waving and winking at Debbie behind the counter, she pulled open the door, the bell overhead ringing. A rush of chilly air hit her and she curled in herself, rubbing her hands together. This winter was feeling comparitively colder than the last.

A family passed her by ─ a mother, father, and their two children excitedly talking about the Halloween decorations and candies for this year. Henrietta couldn't help but smile. Would be nice to have something like that, wouldn't it? Henrietta shut the thought down at its origin. No, it woudn't be. Henrietta Wingrave couldn't have a family to buy decorations and candies with ─ she had the end of the world to worry about. 

Still, before that too, families had never been Henrietta's thing. She killed them ─ directly or indirectly. Every time she got too close, trouble turned the corner and knocked on their door. That was why, even now, after five years of knowing Siobhan, the extent of the witch girl's personal life's knowledge to Henrietta only extended to her parents' names and old exes. And barely anything of Father Parrish.

Henrietta ducked her head and reciprocated the smile of a passing kid.

It was better this way, anyhow. She walked her path alone because let's be honest, who would walk it with her?

She felt a jerk go through her body as a hand gripped her tight and pushed her violently into a dark alley. A neon red light overhead flickered, trying its best to stay functional but the letters ER of the BUTTER sign were fused. This was an unexpected situtation that Henrietta found herself in.

"Hello, Wingrave," the man grinned flashing his black eyes, and slammed her against the wall. Henrietta felt the force in her head, a ringing echoing in her ear. The pain pulsed and throbbed across her skull but she forced her eyes open. Another demon stood over the shoulder of the demon that was pinning her against the wall. Alright then, time for a Wingrave special.

Henrietta brought her knee up, hitting Demon One in front of her in the groin, and in the same motion drew her dagger from her boot throwing it over Demon One's shoulder into Demon Two standing behind. It landed straight into Demon Two's chest and the demon glowed red, flickering as it died. Henrietta dove for the dagger but the still alive Demon One caught her arm, twisting it back. She grunted in pain, gritting her teeth to stop the cries from escaping. With her heeled boot, she stomped her feet on his. His grip on her arms loosened only partly but that was enough for her to turn around and use the advantage of proximity. 

She punched him clear across his face and heard the satisfying crack of the nose breaking. A tiny smirk nestled on her face. She kicked him in the chest with full force and he stumbled and fell to the floor. As she advance, she felt an invisible force take hold of her and fling her across the alley. She hit the wall squarely, curling in to protect her head but her back took most of the damage. She grimaced in pain as she crumbled to the floor. Her eyes quickly found Demon One back on his feet, wiping the dripping blood from under his nose and stalking towards her.

She squirmed and reached for the dagger in her thigh sheath. This one wouldn't kill the demon but blessed iron had its perks. Before she could use it, however, the demon froze in shock, mouth wide open and eyes popped white. Through its torso emerged the tip of Henrietta's dagger. The body radiated a red glow, the light flickering as he died. The dagger was pulled out in one slick motion. The demon crumbled to the ground revealing Nyssa standing under the neon red glow holding the dagger and a smug smile.