Raven shook of the residual carnality and turned a stern, raised eyebrow against the devil.

"I won't play your games Lucifer. I want answers." She said.

Leaning forwards slowly, Lucifer rested his elbows on the desk. His shoulders seemed to sag with defeat. The shadows that draped themselves across the walls and floors, sneaking in to the corners and crevice's of the devil's lair, clung to his features. He sighed; it might have been a hiss.

Raven stared at him, all black and red: shadows and the sensual, synthetic glow from somewhere overhead. For a moment, her senses were flooded and her soul thudded with the overload. She caught the dainty dust particles as they drifted in the redness; heard the whispering brushing of skin on skin worlds behind her, on the dance floor, over the torrent of otherworldly music.

Then came the snap.

And fingers gripped her soul so tightly that her very life force froze. Blood ran once more through her veins, and her arms (enraged and terrified and demonically scarlet) clawed at the hand clasped around her neck. The facade of man fell from the beast before her; the skin and bones were meaningless, eradicated by the ancient monstrosity that Raven's empathic eye was sensible to. Like starlight, the brightest of all, the light of the great morning star- but poisoned. The first of the fallen.

A stifled spluttering crackled from Raven's throat. Her soul seemed to shrink back, seeking refuse in the furthest recessed of her physical being, leaving her bones ice-cold.

You would test me child? His fury penetrated her mind, booming in its caverns.

Her eyes met mere flesh but the third eye within was towered over by the hellish being. And within this creature, in its black eyes, Raven found a trigger. In the visage of this King of demons did she see a trace of a face most abhorred.

A great stirring kicked within, as Lucifer's grip tightened on her gasping neck.

Raven's demon awoke with a vengeance.

Black-talons tipped crimson fingers that pried his hands away from her, flinging the being from her enough to retreat. Crouched, defensive, peeking out of wispy shadow, Raven glowered at the great creature with four terrible, golden eyes. Her very blood was compelled to run close to the ground, below the terror of Lucifer the Morningstar.

Do not mistake my fondness as weakness. I am ancient and changeable.

Raven's head lowered. She dared not remove her eyes from him- as an animal keenly away of its status as prey. Curtains of dark hair fell in to her eyes.

She bowed her head deeper.

"Forgive me, my Lord."

At those words the violence in Lucifer's aura began to wane. He collapsed back in to his desk chair defeatedly.

"Not that. Don't you go saying that, my dear..."

Raven, skin once more alabaster and heart still hammering at her ribcage, rose cautiously. She eyed the being in the chair. It was a great mass of bloodshed and bloodlust, vengeance and regret, contained in a startlingly human-looking shell.

Fingertips propping up his forehead, Lucifer rested an elbow on the wooden desk and sighed.

In his presence, as those dark eyebrows contracted and he huffed once more, Raven's empathic senses seized hold of her soul. Her hands turned to fists and a sweat began to build at her temples. The anguish of the greatest of the fallen ones was too much.

"Do not press me..." Lucifer began, "on this matter child. I have chosen to delegate it for a reason." Almost in sympathy, he sat forwards and offered, "The parties involved...are a source of great pain for me." He looked up with a peculiar glint in his eyes, "Angel venom is not so easily acquired."

Raven frowned.

"Thank you uncle." She said.

An air of finality settled in the room. It was crisp; relieving. Raven met Lucifer's eye once more, then took her cue to flee. Amongst shadow and shroud alike, far from this lair of his, she darted.

Through a portal of her own magic, Raven immersed in the comfort of a street that was stuffy with damp. Gotham at last.

***

For those trained to melt in to the background -to stalk the earth as a keen predator, silent as the stillest of lakes and swift as the winds- refuge is easily found in one's surroundings. The master of hiding in this instance being one Cassandra Cain, her refuge was sought from the troubling presence of perhaps the word's greatest living assassin: her mother.

She was unsurprised by the figure that discovered her, tucked away in the stands of the grand opera house, curled in to a seat. After all, this one (now almost the image of his father, but with the unmistakable traces of his homeland painted in to rich olive skin and etched across sharper features) was of the same caste as her. Children of the shadows, born for blood.

Damian sat wordlessly next to her, tucking his knees up as she did and resting his chin on them. Cassandra's eyes were trained on the empty stage. A ballet had been performed not two hours ago, upon those boards. The imprints of those creatures of grace continued to twirl to her eyes alone.

Damian knew she saw perfection in this place, because all its worth was in the ballet that graced the stage, and that was perfection. He saw only the ghosts of grandparents- inherited grief from his father. Gotham Opera House. That name was a prerequisite for tragedy. This place was the last happy memory of a child who grew up too fast.

It had been difficult, reconciling his father's pain with his own upbringing. When raised by a cutthroat guild for world-domination, it is expected for one to become detached from the suffering of others. Damian had known suffering from the beginning, but compassion was a lesson hard-learnt. With it, however, came steadily developing patience, and kindness, and the sorts of things that usually constitute a person being called 'good'.

Cassandra had always been a soft-spot from the start; an older sister who brought the familiarity of his old life, who understood his mind and heart, who had taught him mercy by example, and who was a greater adversary than even Batman. It was Shiva that tormented her. Just as Talia had tormented him.

"I believe that she is trying to change." He rested his cheek on his knees to look at her.

She sighed and raised a dubious eyebrow.

"You know with my mother..." Damian hugged his knees a little closer. "She is the source of my greatest regrets. I don't want that for you. And I know there is good in Shiva's heart. Perhaps you can't see it, but it is. You know she has greatness in her, and that can become goodness."

Cassandra scooted closer to Damian and rester her head on his shoulder.

"You don't have to have a big heart-to-heart with her. Father puts trust in her too, and Pennyworth. While I'm willing to doubt Father's judgement, Pennyworth's I am not. Just see for yourself." He nudged her.

Cassandra's eyes roamed over the stage. Perfection. That need for it had been beaten in to her. But she's learnt mercy in the Batman. And that would guide her always.

"Okay." She said. "I can try."

***
After so many years navigating the darker realms, Raven ought to have known better than to leave her soul unguarded. She'd walked the rooms of the devil's lairs, unprepared and over-zealous; too eager in her pursuit of information. Now, as she closed her eyes and breathed heavily through her nostrils, no peace could be brought to her agitated spirit.

The demon within had been bathed in the carnality that occupied Lucifer's establishments- it had hung heavy in the air like sweet musk. An accomplished empath, she'd fought it off as best she could, but the call of darker desires was humming in her blood.

Raven collapsed in to the armchair in front of the bed. She gripped the armrests with piercing talons and lay her head back.

"Oh fuck..."

She regretted the choice to return to the House of Mystery. The magic that lay in its floorboards and crackled with latent power was offering no help in quelling the tension rumbling in her soul. 

Meditation. That often worked. Though for disruptions to her inner peace as strong as this, she doubted it's success

Raven gathered air in to her lungs and held it, relaxing her closed eyelids and loosening her grip on the armchair. She prepared the counts in her mind, the numbers hanging just on her tongue when-

"Ah, there you are. May I come in?"

She started.

Damian took her silence as a yes and entered the room. He sat facing her on the foot of the bed, expectantly.

"Zatanna assisted me in reaching this place- surprisingly hard to get to individually without magic." He said, to fill the air.

She made a small sound of agreement, her throat too dry to manage much more.

A plain black tee and trousers- how did he make it look so...

Those eyes hit her, tender and brilliant green and masking a real danger. Raven's heart dropped.

"I presume that you're returned from consulting Lucifer..." Damian verbally nudged, unable to discern the state of the demon.

She nodded mutely.

He frowned, looking her over for some sign of trouble; forcing himself to glance past the features that he knew would get his heart hammering.

"Are you...is everything okay?" Damian asked

Again, she nodded.

His eyebrows were drawn forwards, his arms folded, flexing toned arms that strained against the fabric of his shirt. Raven wet her lips and pushed her eyes up to meet his.

That was a look that he understood at once.

"Raven..." he begun, with no clue of how to finish.

She rose from the chair, letting her Azarathian cloak fall in her empty space. Raven matched the distance between them in a blink, close enough now to touch.

"Can we talk later?" She said.

All attention to the meaning of language had fled his mind. What lay in the air between them was the tangible potential of the physical- base temptation.

His answer to her question was quickly made: Damian brought his lips to hers and brushed them gently. She pressed in to the kiss but he, one hand raising to her chin, let her lips only lightly meet his. This was no rejection of her lust for tender love, but his immediate plunging to her depth of desire. Raven's frustration, her wantonness, was a taste that he'd missed.

The demon would not stay frustrated for long.

Raven wrapped her arms around his neck and collapsed in to his embrace.  His body pressed up against her own and she sighed in to his lips.

"Fuck, I've missed you." Damian whispered as their lips broke apart from a moment.

Raven's eyes flashed red and she was magically rid of her leotard. He pulled his shirt over his head in a single motion. Heat pooled in the lowest state of her being. Skin against skin, she hooked a leg around him and kissed his neck.

"Show me how much..."

A.N:

At long last, 3 months later, chapter 22 arrives. You have my sincerest apologies for the wait folks. I've been abroad, away from home, studying, and all sorts of shit that have meant that this book hasn't been a priority for me. You will not be waiting 3 months for the next update, trust me😭

I thought I'd add a little spice at the end of this chapter, as compensation for your troubles 😉. So I hope you've enjoyed this chapter. Stay tuned!

-Bats