After the punishment was carried out, Lucy and Bael went to Denny's. The Metatron had to wait in the car because he was out of his mind, and they also didn't allow pets. Bael’s insistence that the mad angel was a “biblically accurate emotional support animal” fell on deaf ears. The Metatron was in rough shape anyway. To the mortals he looked like a pigeon that had been born too close to a nuclear power plant (and run over by a truck).

They ordered milkshakes and fries, sitting there in silence as Lucy processed what had happened.

She had been ready to destroy the universe. In fact, Lucy had been looking forward to it. But now, she felt hollow inside. “I can't believe you actually fired me,” she finally said.

Bael shrugged. “It wasn't personal.”

“That's almost worse. I'm your maker, and you don't even care enough to hate me.” Lucy dipped her fry into the vanilla shake. “I’m not used to people being indifferent. Usually I'm very polarizing.”

“If it's any consolation, there are plenty of people down in hell who still hate you,” Bael said helpfully.

“And that's why I will not be returning.” Lucy made a show of patting her pockets. “Can you handle the bill? I just got laid off.”

“Sure.” Bael caught the server’s eye and handed him some cash. “Keep the change.”

“Will do!” the man said happily.

The Baron looked at Lucy, weighing his options as he finished his strawberry shake. The easy answer was to throw her in a pocket dimension and throw away the key. But perhaps there was another option. “So, what are you thinking of doing, now that you're free?”

“I've got no idea.” Lucy admitted. “I'd say travel, but I've already been everywhere, seen everything. And I'm tired, I'm so freaking tired Bael.”

She leaned back and looked up at the dusty ceiling. “I've been in hell for too long. And now that I'm out, I don't know what I want.”

“Have you considered a job in teaching?” Bael asked. “The benefits are wonderful, and I'm sure you would feel right at home in academia. I hear it's quite hellish.”

Lucy looked at Bael for any signs of deception. “You can't be serious.”

The Baron shrugged. “It's an idea.”

“It's a terrible idea,” Lucy replied.

“Alright, do you have a better one? Or perhaps some cache of valuables here in the mortal realm that can be accessed without magic?” Bael asked, letting the question hang in the air. “Because currently you have no funds, identification, or friends.”

Lucy hated to admit it, but Bael was right. Her treasures were locked behind wards, and any demons she tried to approach for favors would turn on her the second they realized she was powerless. What was worse, she couldn't just kill Bael and get her power back. It was gone, distributed among hell’s leadership.

She knew Bael had some trick up his sleeve. But, her first order of business was getting established in the mortal realm. This would help with that. “Fine, I'll consider it. On one condition.”

Bael raised an eyebrow. “And what might that be?”

“I want to meet this young witch who has you twisted around her finger. If only to see it for myself.”

To her surprise, Bael laughed. “Sure, I'd be interested in seeing how she reacts to meeting her grandma Lucy.”

“Grandma Lucy?” The Devil narrowed her eyes at Bael. “You have got to be joking.”

Bael-Sharoth grinned. “Well, we'll probably call you aunt Lucy. Because you don't look old enough to be my mother.”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“Finally, a compliment.” Lucy tapped her black talons on the table. “But I have to ask, for my own curiosity, why are you helping me? Why not send me back to hell or have Lou confine me to the void?”

There were any number of reasons bouncing around in the tangled mess of plots and schemes Bael called a mind. But he decided to start with the most simple one. “Death is pretty permanent. I can always change my mind if you misbehave.”

Lucy swallowed hard. “Ah, that makes a lot of sense. I was worried for a moment that you had gone soft, or were trying to score points with the other side.”

“You've known me long enough to know that my side is the only one I care about,” the Baron said, looking directly into Lucy's eyes, “Now, you have a choice, a chance to make a decision. You can commit to supporting me and protecting my family, now and forever. Or, I can send you on your way.”

The Devil wasn't used to being on the receiving end of ultimatums, not ones with teeth anyway. As demons went, Bael wouldn't be the worst master to serve. His reputation and power would certainly stop anyone who discovered her situation from trying to settle any old grudges.

But on the other hand, if she agreed to this she would be bound to him forever. Even if she regained her full power, the agreement would still hold.

Lucy felt a strange realization wash over her. “You clever little demon. You're going to try and get me my job back, aren't you?”

Bael let out a long slow clap, drawing looks from the other patrons. “Congratulations Lucy, you've figured me out. Now, what will it be? Collaboration, or confinement?”

She stuck out her hand. “I accept your terms. You and your family will have my full support, and protection.”

Bael grinned as he shook her hand, sealing the deal. “That was a very wise decision,” he said, happy to have finally made some real progress on preventing the impending apocalypse. Gabriel might still prove to be a problem, but at least Lucy and the Metatron were out of the picture. “Now, let's go introduce you to the family.”

***

Gabriel, of course, was not happy to hear that his big moment to shine had been called off. A divine memo had come across his desk stating that the Metatron acted without authorization, and the apocalypse was to be canceled.

The angel looked at the paper as all his hopes and dreams crashed down around him. He was going to be a laughing stock when the others found out. His authority would be questioned, as well as his position within heaven itself.

Unless, of course, he simply ignored the letter. He could do that, just toss it in the trash or burn it. Pretend he never saw it. But as he reached for his flaming sword and tried to destroy the evidence, something strange happened. The paper refused to burn.

He looked at it with confusion. It seemed like regular paper. All the seals identified it as genuine. So, why wasn't it burning?

Acting on a rare moment of intuition, Gabriel sniffed the paper. Sure enough, he was able to detect the slightest hint of brimstone. The angel leaned back in his chair and let out a sigh of relief. It was a fake, a forgery, something sent by hell to throw him off his game.

No doubt Lucy and her forces would be massing at hell’s border, waiting for their opportunity to strike. Gabriel sheathed his flaming sword before he could accidentally set fire to something important (again).

Too bad for them I didn't fall for it, he thought smugly, It takes more than that to fool an archangel.