What the Hell

by Hunter Blain

  “Oh man, that’s good. It’s like, ten times stronger than before.”

  “Probably closer to a multiplier of six or seven,” Locke corrected, and I couldn’t tell if he was trying to save face at being informed Hayley’s concoction was considerably stronger than his original formula, or he was just being factual.

  “Either way, shit’s delish.”

  “Glad it’s helping,” Locke said as he brought me another, taking the empty bag away to toss it into the trash.

  Tiny Tim bounded over to my chair, and I scooped him up to rest in my lap while vigorously scratching behind his ears.

  “How’s the plan for the mansion,” I said with a teensy bit of emphasis on the P word.

  “We are actually ready to begin. Do you have anyone in mind to build it?” Locke asked. I looked over at Depweg appreciatively, and he nodded his agreement.

  “Actually, I do. Send me the fi—”

  “Already done,” Depweg interjected with a smile. I saw he had a new phone on his wrist. His old one had been the type you held in your hand, like a common street urchin. Now that he was home safe, Locke had apparently upgraded him. I wanted to remind him how far the screen could stretch, but I think he already knew.

  “Neat!” I said as I brought up my phone with my fingers, selected the file, and sent it to SAC Baker with a note that said, “Pretty please, with blood on top?”

  “What’s next?” Joey asked, sitting on the armrest of the couch next to his alpha.

  “Well, Warden Freckles and I have some warlocks to murder.”

  “’Bout damn time, princess,” Hayley said with a smile and a fire in her eyes. She liked kill’n just as much as I did.

  A lightsaber sound came from my wrist, and I opened my phone to see SAC Baker had responded. “Just completed the church. I’ll send the team over to the spot immediately. Am I procuring the materials, or are you?”

  “Collin wants to know if we are buying the stuff to build the mansion and stuff.”

  “Oh, he can do that for us?” Locke asked as he stroked his chin. “That . . . that would save me a lot of time, actually. Tell him to shoot us a price with our thanks.”

  “‘And Locke says you’re pretty,’” I sounded out around the bag of blood I held in my teeth as I finished typing and hit send.

  “I would ask if you are joking, but I know you aren’t.”

  Sticking a bloodchopstick into the bag, I quickly siphoned the contents while trying my best not to moan. Looking inward, I was both relieved and impressed that about a quarter of my well had been replenished.

  On my way back out of my mind and into my body, I stopped in the control room and slowly pivoted to see Baleius sitting on the couch, reading a book. The stocks I had locked him in were gone.

  Hey! What the crap!

  You didn’t just sleep, John. It was almost as if you had vanished, leaving me behind, alone.

  Alone? An-and you didn’t try and take over?

  With a sigh, Baleius closed the book, which evaporated into a fine mist, before looking at me with sincere eyes.

  I went through your memory and filled in the blanks on the important parts I missed. I’m just going to tell you now that I was sometimes able to peer through the cracks in the box and watch what happened outside. I didn’t catch everything, but was aware of the overall goings-on.

  O-kay, I said as I crossed my arms, feeling vulnerable all of a sudden.

  I saw what Samael said to you, and then what the books said at the end, Baleius continued in a sullen tone as he looked toward the window of my eyes. If you lose, I lose. He stood up and walked over to where I was standing with a cocked eyebrow and slightly parted mouth. I think we can prevent this whole thing from happening.

  Why help?

  I don’t give a shit about Samael’s squabble with Father, Baleius said, throwing up his hands and pacing back and forth. That simple statement reminded me that he was a demon that had once been an angel in Heaven. But I know my brothers, above and below, and I don’t want everything to end. Don’t get me wrong, John. It is not for any of the hero crap that you are going for; I also don’t care about the mortals. I simply do not want to die. Especially if what Charon says is true. The box, he paused for a moment as he spoke about his prison, showed me what absolute darkness is. Sheol sounds infinitely worse, and I’d very much like to avoid it.

  He looked at me and I could tell he was being honest, as if for the first time.

  I would like to believe you. I really would.

  I’m going to stop you there. I understand your position, and can even appreciate it. But after reading the last book in the prophecy, something surreal came over me. You have to understand, John, I’m immortal in the truest sense of the word. Father created us angels before time was time. I have never had to consider my own death before. As he said the word, he shuddered again like he had an invasion of goose bumps over his entire body. So, while you and I have our differences of opinion on what we should do with our power, I think we can both agree that we do not want creation to end.

  What about the distinct possibility that Satan tricked me into opening a box with words he wanted me to read, and that he actually has the real box now.

  You mean, since you left the key like an idiot?

  Ye-yeah, that.

  Though that is a likely scenario, it still doesn’t change what he said with his own mouth. Let’s say, for the sake of argument, that the prophecy books we read were, indeed, planted. He wrote those words to give you a sense of overwhelming dread and make you give up hope. Hope, John, is what drives most sentient beings. We hoped Father would eventually love us like he loved the mortals. We hoped that Samael could help show Father the error of his ways. And after we fell, we hoped, one day, we would be allowed to come home. Baleius looked down as he placed his hands on his hips, his expression blank as he stared through the ground at nothing.

  After a few moments, he seemed to snap out of it, and looked up at me with determined eyes.

  I thought you said you couldn’t remember anything before me.

  I lied. I didn’t want you to be wary of me. Which I am confident you would have treated me differently had you known the truth. But I want to fix that now.

  Why should I believe you? You just admitted to lying to me.

  I don’t want to die, John. At this point, I think Samael would destroy all of creation if it meant getting back at Father, taking the one thing that he loved more than anything else away from him.

  I stood in silence, paralyzed with the revelation while simultaneously pondering any ulterior motives.

  You should probably get the armor back from Ulric, by the way.

  There it was.

  I knew it, I barked, letting my arms drop as I turned my back on the lying demon inside my head.

  I anticipated you might feel that I am attempting to deceive you. And why wouldn’t you think that way? So, I offer you the keys of trust.

  That caught my attention, and I turned back to face him with a screwed-up expression.

  First, the armor will help cancel the time dilation when you go to see your lover in Faerie.

  That means Dawson won’t have to spend extra centuries in Sheol while I get Lily’s blood! I exclaimed, feeling the good news wash over me.

  John, there’s more I wish to say, Baleius began while taking in a deep breath and closing his eyes. I could tell this was going to be big, or at least, he wanted me to think that. You can control me much more than you have realized. It wasn’t until the box that you even began to understand your power over me.

  My eyebrows went up and I continued to stare, unable to formulate words while silently urging him to continue.

  He took in another breath, as if realizing that the words he was about to speak could never be undone and that he might be making a mistake.

  John, I am a part of your soul. But it is your soul. The soul is one of the most powerful thing in the universe next to Father and Samael.

  Really
? I asked, feeling like a child who just found out that Santa Claus comes down the chimney every Christmas.

  Well, the Archangels are vastly powerful as well, but we regular angels are more on par with souls. I was not an Archangel, John, therefore, your soul is just as strong as me, giving us a delicate balance. Baleius let out a few soft laughs before he continued slowly with, Then you went and merged with Raziel.

  My mouth dropped open as I thought about Da, the angel Raziel.

  I, ah, I find this all a bit much and a tad overwhelming, dude, I said as I sat down where I stood, a recliner that mirrored the one in my living room sprouting up from the ground. I flopped back with one hand on my head, and noticed I was still in my boxers. I was about to will my trench and beanie onto my frame when a dark thought struck from the recesses of my mind, reminding me that Ulric had the coat Da had made for me and the beanie my mom had sewn, in Heaven. I gritted my teeth and let my hand drop to the fluffy armrest.

  Why should I believe you, Baleius? This could be another lie, plain and simple.

  John, think about what I am saying. You didn’t get lucky when you came out of Faerie and threw me in the damn box. It was the same last night, when you tossed me in the stocks. In all our centuries together, have you ever been able to subdue me so easily? It wasn’t until you set your mind to it that you tapped into your potential in regards to controlling me.

  I thought about his words and understood that he was speaking factually. However, the best lies had dollops of truth. This did feel kind of different, though.

  John, Baleius breathed while sitting on the couch so that we were on the same level, you could do whatever you wanted to me, and I wouldn’t be able to stop you. Why didn’t I take over your body while you were gone? Because you could have just returned and taken it right back as if I were nothing more than a child holding your car keys. For the sake of self-preservation, I can promise you I will not try and take over your body again. And in the same instance, with us working together, I feel we can help avert the apocalypse and stop my brother.

  I stared off as his words saturated my thoughts. I felt he was telling the truth, but there was still a shadow of a doubt that was a monument to his past transgressions.

  My eyes focused, and I stared at the demon sitting on the couch in front of me.

  I want to believe you, so I will, for now. But know this, demon: at the first sign of betrayal, I will punish you in such a way that you will long for death. Am I understood?

  My gaze was fierce and cold; my face as smooth as a statue. I projected absolute confidence off my body, like the heat from an industrial furnace.

  I understand, John. I will reward your trust with a gift.

  My posture relaxed as I regarded my tentative ally.

  I will give you two pieces of information that will guide you toward your — our — goal.

  Alright, I’m listening, I said as I steepled my hands, pressing on my lips with my fingers.

  The first is this: find another nail that pierced Christ’s flesh, and you can discover the other two.

  And why would tha‒ I started before trailing off. Ulric has the nail I had.

  Correct. If you can track the nail, you can have your team attack Ulric during the day when he is most vulnerable and get back the nail, your trench and beanie, and the angelic armor.

  Okay, I like the plan so far. What’s the second?

  Baleius leaned forward and bored into my soul with a stoic gaze. You can retrieve the wolf from Sheol.

  Ho-how? I asked with a shaking voice.

  There is one, and only one, who knows how to enter and exit the place below Hell at will.

  Who? I asked, leaning forward in my chair and letting my hands fall to my lap.

  I dare not say his name here, for the universe has a way of listening.

  I thought back on how Lachesis had said the name, Benji Silver, when I’d asked the name of the boy that Depweg had been tricked into killing so long ago. She had spoken the name, and the universe had heard.

  But know this, John: you will need the celestial armor to traverse the planes in your body.

  In . . . in my body? You mean, my body, which is super flammable, will have to go to Hell? Come on, man!

  The armor will protect you. But that’s not why it is important. You will need to drink the Faerie Queen’s blood while in Hell to sink to Sheol.

  Lilith, man, have you given me enough to do or is there anything else you wanna pile on? Are you going to introduce me to a friend over drinks and then ask me to help him move because he’s in a real pickle, knowing that because he’s standing right by us that it’ll be hella awkward to say no?

  Why? Would you be willing to help Bartimaeus?

  Who the hell is Bart‒

  I was just kidding, Baleius interjected with a genuine smile.

  Okay, okay, okay, I repeated over and over again as I played back our conversation. Get the nail. Locate where Ulric is based out of. Don’t kill him because of the prophecy and stuff. Get the nail, celestial armor, and my trench and beanie back. Go to Faerie. Ask Lily for more blood. Um . . . oh yeah, go to Hell in my freaking real body. Find this guy you know. Drink the blood. Grab Dawson from Sheol. Go back in time. Invest in Apple and Amazon. Profit. Pool party at the new mansion. That about sum it up?

  And help Bartimaeus move.

  Bitch! I will drink holy water if you don’t quit with that.

  Only kidding, Baleius said with a warm smile. I noticed his skin had lightened substantially, and his eyes didn’t glow crimson any longer. They were more of a matte red.

  Alrighty then. I’ll let the team know. I stood and went to travel outside my mind when I stopped and turned to Baleius. I really hope you aren’t trying to screw me, man.

  Then let my actions speak for me, he answered as I drifted back into the driver’s seat of my body.

  “. . . and then he turned himself into a pickle, man. He was all like, ‘I’m Pickle Rick!’ It was the funniest shit I’ve ever seen,” Magni was saying to Joey while showing him an old clip on his phone.

  I feigned a gasp while covering my mouth. “Magni. You use big boy words?” I glanced at Ludvig, who crossed his arms and looked away.

  “I’m almost old enough to drink, dick,” Magni said with a playful smile that was more mischievous than innocent.

  “Why would you drink dick? Is it tasty or something?” Turning toward Warden Broadway, I continued, “Hayley, you would know.”

  “Love it. Can’t get enough. Highly recommended. Ten out of ten.”

  Eyes shot back to me as the warden fell on the blade to stifle my playful stab.

  “Well, wasn’t expecting that,” I said almost under my breath.

  “That’s what she said,” Hayley continued.

  “I don’t know if that works,” I countered.

  “That’s what she said,” Hayley repeated.

  “Ah, damn it. Fine. White flag.”

  “What? You giving up before I’m satisfied? Sounds about right for a typical man.”

  “Lilith! Would you stop already! White flag, man. White flag!”

  The group was all chuckling at my expense.

  Turning to the room to completely drop a nuke on their mirth, I said, “Well, guys, I have a plan, and you’re not gonna like it.”

  Chapter 15

  I’m sorry, but can you repeat all that to me again?” Locke asked as he rubbed at the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut as I came out of my room fully clothed in my backup gear, complete with celestial belt clasped around my waist. I had quickly told them my plan in passing, hoping they wouldn’t notice the absurdity of it, before stepping away while the room sat silent and putting on a black ensemble that included a cotton shirt, jeans, Doc Martens, and a spare hoodie.

  My delivery tactic hadn’t worked and frustration crept into my voice, as I was just as anxious about the plan as everyone else appeared to be. “Okay, here are the damn CliffsNotes: One. Reach out to SAC Baker to see if he h
as found another nail. B. Use the new nail to track Ulric’s position. And finally, D. Sneak into Ulric’s hidey-hole and retrieve my outerwear.” I may have forgotten to mention the part where I went to Faerie to get some more of Lily’s blood in order to sink down to Sheol and actually save Dawson this time.

  “Seems like an awful dangerous mission for some clothes,” Warden Broadway said to me as I plopped back down in my recliner.

  “The degree with which you underestimate the importance of the celestial armor is both staggering and impressive,” I relayed to the warden with eyebrows knitted together.

  “Aw! Thank you!” Hayley beamed while interlacing the digits from both of her hands and placing the tops of her fingers underneath her chin like she was posing for an aspiring photographer off Craigslist.

  I like her, Baleius chimed in. I ignored his comment.

  “But seriously,” Hayley added, dropping her hands and staring me right in the face, “when are we going to get on with our mission? You know, the mission Elder Hecate gave us?”

  “Soon. Just know that the celestial armor makes me much more powerful and less likely to die while the trench, boots, shirt, and pants double as Fae armor.”

  “And the hat?”

  “The beanie is of great sentimental value. Plus, it should be with the others, so it’s not like we’d be making extra trips.”

  “Unless Ulric is wearing them,” Depweg added while stroking his chin in thought.

  “Aw, shit! They are fabulous, and Ulric has a penchant for fashion,” I drawled out while rubbing my eyes. I hadn’t considered that he would wear my Fae armor. The image of Ulric in his custom-made power suit came to mind. “He likes red,” I said to the room as I inspected the picture of Ulric in my mind.

  “Red is a power color and a symbol of authority,” Locke added.

  After a few moments of silent contemplation, Depweg spoke up, “Could we consider the fact that maybe Ulric might decide to wear the attire simply as a slap in the face toward John?”

  The entire room seemed to nod their heads in agreement.

  Ulric would consider Fae-made clothing to be inferior to his Hell-given suit and robes, Baleius said helpfully.