Husk is still driving. The radio is tuned to a random channel that is flickering between political updates and an assortment of random rock songs (the screamo kind of shit that Husk listens to).

"Holy mother of fuck, how far did Alastor go?" Angel groans from in front of me, shifting dramatically against his seat.

The scenery whirls past us like streaked paint. I lean on the window sill, my chin resting in the palm of my hand, watching as the blurry, red-brick buildings float by. Like usual, there are only a few cars on the road, and they too are speeding like they have somewhere important to be. I enjoy staring out of the window, watching everything pass by in fuzzy smears. It gives my mind something to think about.

My head actually feels blank and empty, like it's been drenched in sap. I just want to know what's happening. All of this is just too confusing for me to even sort through.

Then Husk mutters a deep, "Shit." Trying to see what's going on, I crane my neck around Angel's seat, which I am sitting behind. It enables me to catch a glimpse of the nearing black fog through the windshield. It's definitely closer, looming over the city like a giant storm cloud.

Surely, other people are noticing this thing.

"Do you think anyone else is, like, noticing this? Do you think they're panicking?" I ask after unbuckling my seatbelt so I can scoot closer to Husk and Angel, wedging myself between the two front seats.

"Maybe," Husk replies. I've never seen him more... attentive than he is right now. Usually, he's slouched over the hotel bar counter, wiping at a spot or pouring a tall glass of booze for some lonely demon, but right now, his posture is straight, his cat-like ears are perked up, and his eyes are flicking about, inspecting his surroundings. "But maybe not. Lots of people down here don't give two flying fucks about anything. They could just think this is some normal, everyday thing."

That's probably true.

"That would be good, actually..." he continues, and I notice him step on the gas. "...if nobody thinks twice about this weird ass ginormous cloud thing. We don't want to get anyone else unnecessarily involved-"

Angel groans again, carelessly interrupting Husk. "Are we there yet?" he whines. I look over at him; his head has somehow made it to the floor and his feet are kicked up over the top of his seat backing. I giggle at the spider, but don't respond to him.

Eventually-and to Angel's great relief-we approach a wide, gloomy-looking mansion with dark paint and flamboyantly large windows. It's still far away from us, so I can't pinpoint too many details, but we can't drive any closer. The road curves around in a circle, cutting off a distance away from the building, which has been placed on the crest of a grassy hill. There is a stone path connecting the front door to the street that I could walk along to reach the front door. There is only one door that I can see, a big brown one placed in the front and center of the house where the walkway ends. There are masses of greenery, such as bushes and patches of dying flowers, covering the lawn in front of it, providing a more homey feel to the otherwise cold building.

And, finally, hovering above the place in a giant dark mass is the weird tornado, aimed down at the building like an oversized funnel.

"I think they're in there," Husk states the obvious, putting the car into park on the curb in front of the building.

Angel sits up straight, then rolls down his window. Placing his palms on the window sill, he reaches his head out of the opening to get a better look. "Oh, hell no!" I hear him shout, his head still jutting out of the parked car's window. "That looks like some summon-all-fucked-up-shit-and-kill-everyone stuff right there. I'd like to stay in the car, thank you very much."

I don't argue. He has a valid point; if I hadn't received so much trauma in the past week, I wouldn't even be considering stepping out of the car, but that's not the situation. I've seen enough to feel comfortable entering whatever chaos is waiting for me in that building. I want to help Vaggie and Charlie, who are both probably stuck in there.

But there's another reason I want to chase Alastor down.

Something deep inside me is whispering to me. (Metaphorically. I'm not a lunatic, I swear.) It's hiding somewhere in the darkest cavern of my heart, telling me that I want to help Alastor, too. The eccentric deer-demon is a hellish fucking monster, but at the same time, I want to help him. No matter how much I hate myself for it, no matter how creepy, rapey, manipulative, and fucked up he gets, I'll still always see him as the man who brought me in from the woods. And I want to help him change, even if he doesn't desire my help.

I sigh, turning to face Husk, pushing away my deep thoughts. "You'll come with me, right?"

Husk shakes his head, not making eye contact with me. "I'm just the driver," he says, keeping his palms on the steering wheel. "I don't want to get involved in any of this."

Angel turns, a smirk pulling at the sides of his lips. "Yeah, Husk and I will just chill out in here. You can go in there and save the world whatever," he says, giving me a small wink. I want to scream at Angel, try to make him understand that the situation at hand is obviously more important than his little romance with Husk, but I don't. Instead, I just get out of the car and slam the door shut behind me.

My heels click loudly against the fancy stone path as I walk up to the building's front door. I look down, remembering that I'm wearing a pair of Angel's black kinky boots. They're so extra, but I kind of love it.

It takes a while for me to reach the door of the mansion. Turning back one last time, I look for Husk's car over the shrubbery and find it still parked in the road where I had left it. With a deep sigh, I grab the fancy, french-looking door handle in my hand, feeling the coldness of it against my palm. I twist it and push. The door opens smoothly and silently.

I am greeted with a narrow hallway. There are old fashioned paintings strung up over the red-painted walls, eerily lit by mini yellow chandeliers that hang down almost threateningly from the ceiling. I glance over at one of the paintings-it's a portrait of a blonde and very fancy looking family. One of the members is Charlie, who is dressed in a white and brown dress, complete with dark suspenders. There is a tall man in a white suit to one side of her, wearing a magnificently handsome smile and holding a staff with an apple on the end. On the other side of her, an even taller, stunningly gorgeous woman with voluptuous curves, dressed in a purple skin-tight gown.

Magne family, a small plaque reads beneath the photo. That must be Charlie's family then. Lucifer and... his wife.

Suddenly, I hear a crash erupt from the other room, causing my gaze to separate from the picture. Down the hall, my brain tells me, and then my Glock is in my hand and I'm running for the opening at the end of the corridor.

The hallway ends and I stumble through the opening, only to find myself in what looks like a massive, vintage living room. I hold my gun up, ready to aim and shoot anyone-or anything-that comes at me. My wandering eyes come to a halt when I see the back of Alastor's lean figure, standing stock-still in the center of the room, his hands folded behind him so that I can see the length of his fingers holding his staff.

He's... talking?

No, someone else is talking. Not him.

I take a few silent steps forward. The fancy black rug beneath me mutes my footsteps as I walk around the edge of an old-fashioned couch to get nearer to Alastor. He still has not noticed my presence.

Then I see who he's talking to. The man who was in the photo with Charlie. The man in the white suit.

Lucifer.

Staring at the man in person, he looks much more intimidating. There is no smile on his face to hide the underlying tone of his expression. He is glaring at Alastor with eyes wide with hatred, and he's saying something about... Charlie.

"There was no reason to get her involved in this silly, immature game of yours," Lucifer hisses, taking a step forward. I crouch down between one of the vintage couches and an old side table with fresh brown gloss, hoping to hide myself. "Me, sure, but not her."

"That's just what you think," Alastor retorts, keeping his posture steady. Although I can't quite see it, I can hear the grin in his voice. "But it's very much the opposite. You see, there's something I like to use against people, it's called leverage..."

"I know what leverage is."

"Okay, so then you must know my reason for bringing Charlie along with me." So Charlie is here. That means that Vaggie must be too.

I could shoot Alastor right now with a clean, deadly shot. I totally would shoot him, if I thought it was ethical, but I know that it's not. I've tried shooting him before and it got me nowhere. It was like shooting a brick wall, and doing it again would probably bring the same outcome. So I remain hidden, feeling the sweat build up around my palms as they clutch the base of my gun.

Lucifer pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. He has a mass of blonde hair on top of his head, matted down slightly by a white top hat that matches his suit. There is a what looks like a purple snake coiled around the base of the hat, holding a bright red apple within its grasp. Yep, this is definitely satan. "Well, what do you expect me to do, Al? Give you the keys to the kingdom and step down from my place? Because to me, that sounds like a pretty messy plan," Lucifer barks, obviously flustered. Alastor must be enjoying it, because he chuckles.

Just then, Charlie's mother enters the room. I'm able to identify her from the picture by the lake of yellow hair that falls over her perfectly sculpted body. She walks-no, floats would be a better description-over to Lucifer, where she leans over and whispers something in his ear.

Lucifer pulls his shoulders up, sweeping one hand down the front of his shirt. "We can discuss this matter into depth later. For now, I would like to see my daughter, and I would like you to restrain from hurting either her or her friend any more. If you want to-"

I stand up. The Glock remains at my side. Lucifer and his wife both see me, their eyes drawing away from Alastor to gaze in my direction. Lucifer frowns, but his wife just smiles.

"How did you get in here?" Lucifer snaps, his fists coiling up into little balls.

I don't pay attention to him, though. I'm giving Alastor the sharpest death stare that I can. He turns his head around, giving me a sideways look. "Ah, Danielle! I was wondering when you were going to show up."

The pieces of the puzzle are coming together now in my head, and I know what his game is, but all I can think to say is, "Where are they?" My voice sounds strong, and I push confidence into my tone so he knows that I'm not asking him, but rather demanding an answer.

"Why, you'll see quite soon, my dear. Would you like to tag along with dear old Lucifer and I while we go to see your friends?" Alastor asks, turning around fully to face me. I notice now that his eyes look redder, sharper, and his grin looks wider and more menacing than ever before.

I look at Lucifer, who has replaced his frown with an expression of deep thought, then at his wife, who is examining me with bright eyes, then back at Alastor, who just looks like the cunning bastard that he is.

"Yes."