Six listened as Bael explained the situation to her. School was starting soon and since she hadn't attended class for two years she probably had some catching up to do.

She didn't mind the thought of spending more time with Bael. Even if some of it would probably be boring. But he was operating on incomplete information. “Ah, and I take it that you are going to teach me?”

“Precisely.” Bael gestured to a stack of school books. “I managed to secure a copy of last year's learning materials so if we can work through them you should be caught right up.” They were actually this year’s books for the advanced placement classes, but he had a feeling she might enjoy them more.

“May I?” Six picked up one of the books. “And a pen too please.”

Bael handed her a pen and watched as she flipped through the biology book. Occasionally she frowned and made a mark with her pen. Sometimes she scribbled something in the margins. “Making notes?”

“No.” Six said as she relabeled a diagram, “I'm making corrections.”

Two years away from school didn't mean she was two years behind. Quite the opposite, in fact. It meant that Six had been allowed to learn at her own pace, uninterrupted, for those two years without silly things like holidays or summer breaks.

“Right. So should I take these away?” Bael looked at the stack of textbooks.

“No, leave them. I've started so I might as well finish.” She moved on to literature and shook her head. “I swear schools have really gone downhill since my day.”

***

“Our daughter is frightening.” Bael told Maharet later that night as she rubbed his back. “She just absorbs knowledge like a sponge. I've never seen anything like it.”

“Well she takes after her father.” Maharet straddled the small of his back and spread warm oil over his shoulders. Her hands were like hot stones as she went to work on the complex network of knots and scar tissue. “I swear you have way too many injuries for a paper pusher.”

“Hah!” Bael snorted into the flannel bed sheets. “I started out as infernal infantry. You should see my knees. My left shoulder is toast too. Why do you think I almost never pick anything heavy up left handed?”

“You pick me up all the time.” Margaret pointed out.

“Yes, but you are light as a feather.” Bael said, his new husbandly instincts kicking in. They weren't technically married but if nobody could tell the difference, was there a difference?

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Maharet couldn't help but notice Bael was trusting her more and more these days. When they first arrived he never would have told her about a potential weakness. That was probably a good sign. Things seemed to be moving forward in their relationship.

Harrows had been cleared of demons for their date night. But they hadn't bothered to hide their involvement when they returned to hell. There was no keeping it a secret at this point. Comings and goings from the infernal realm were logged. Someone was going to notice eventually that they always traveled together.

Her fingers brushed over a white line of scar tissue as wide as her thumb. It looked like he had been stabbed with something sharp. Maharet pushed in with her fingertips, trying to break up the scar tissue underneath. "How did you get the scar?”

“Which one?”

“It's a line, just under your right shoulder blade.” She tapped it with her fingers.

“If it matches the one on my front, probably an angelic lance.”

“What about this one on your lower back?” She ran her nail along what had probably been a nasty gash before it healed.

“Seraphim with a sword. He got me from behind. Luckily it was one of the fiery ones so it cauterized the wound.” He patted a nasty raised section of crisscrossing lines next to it. “That was from a mace.”

She looked at the scars in shock. “How are you still alive?”

“Benefits of an infernal constitution, I suppose.” He laughed. “That and we didn't know it at the time but the casks of Elysian ale we stole before the final push were Gabriel's private reserve. They made us a bit tougher than the average demon.”

“You stole Gabriel's beer? Why am I not surprised?” Maharet shook her head and went back to work. One by one the knots disappeared under her strong hot fingers. Bael was going to be sore in the morning but breaking down scar tissue was important. It was hard to heal when you were still hurting.

She lay down beside him, pulling the covers up so he wouldn't get cold. Bael was a good demon but frustratingly hard to read, even with their bond. He seemed to care about her and was definitely the loving sort. But she had secrets and once they came to light he would look at her differently.

The way he talked about the war and angels specifically made her cautious. Maharet thought about the two long scars down her back. They had spoken briefly about it but she wasn't sure if he grasped the full significance.

Over the millennia she had been tempted to try and regrow them. But her attunement wasn't fully set to the lower realm and hell’s energy wasn't as beneficial to her as it was for demons like Bael. Besides, there was no knowing how they would turn out.

If her new wings were black like Lucy's that would be fine. But if they grew back white everyone would know she was one of the fallen. And fallen angels did not have an easy time in Hell.

It would be best to tell him now. The longer she waited the more it would seem like she was trying to deceive him. The hurt would be much worse then. But could she stand the pain of finally showing someone who she was only to be rejected? Wasn't it better to rip the band-aid off now?

“Bael, I need to tell you something.” Maharet prepared herself for the inevitable rejection. “I’m not a fire demon. I'm an angel. I wanted to tell you but I was afraid of how you would react.”

He didn't say a word and the silence stretched out between them like a chasm. She had expected surprise or anger. But not silence. At first she was hurt. But then she realized what was actually going on and let out a sigh of relief.

I can't believe it. Maharet thought as she listened to the sound of Bael's slow deep breathing. He's asleep!