George was about to go grab Ken by the scruff of his neck when the thermite ignited. Ken saw the initial flash and bolted away as fast as his wings could carry him. Normally, thermite wasn’t particularly explosive. However, three hundred pounds of white hot metal burning through a boat into the lake below was bound to have some unexpected consequences.

At first the powder burned slowly, throwing off white and red sparks. Then the reaction began to accelerate. When the mixture burned through to the water below all hell broke loose as a steam explosion launched the remaining powder and molten metal into the sky.

“Woo hoo!, that was a good one!” Six cheered as a boom echoed out over the lake. She went to give Bael a high five. “Best camping trip ever!”

A few hundred miles away Maharet looked up from her book as one of the hellcats suddenly sat up ramrod straight. “What is it?” she asked.

Arson’s whiskers twitched. “I don’t know. But whatever it was, I’m sorry I missed it.”

***

The next morning Bael and Six woke up early to go fishing. Somehow Six had gotten it into her head that she wanted to catch breakfast and Bael was incapable of turning down free food. He watched with fascination as she baited a hook.

“I'm surprised you don't have issues with using live bait,” Bael said.

“It's just a worm,” Six replied with a shrug, “It would be a bit silly to get up in arms about hurting worms when I'm trying to catch a fish.”

“Fair point,” Bael admitted, “You know, I've always wanted to try fly fishing. It looks like a good way to waste an afternoon.”

Six looked over at him. “Is there fishing in hell?”

“Yeah, but the line always breaks at the last second.”

“That's so evil!” Six cackled as she tossed out her bait and bobber. It landed in the water with a satisfying thunk.

“So, what are we fishing for?” Bael asked from his folding chair.

“Well, that depends. I'd like some trout, but I might end up catching bass or bluegills. You never know what you'll get when you're fishing with worms.” She looked around the campground. “I'm surprised nobody else is up. It's like we have the whole place to ourselves.”

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The demon felt an icicle of dread dripping down his spine. She was right, there wasn't anyone else nearby. Not a single person was walking their dog, talking, or making breakfast. He saw an abandoned mug of coffee on one of the tables, softly steaming in the cold morning air.

Bael stood up. He didn't raise his voice as he spoke, knowing that the hellhound would hear him just fine. “Titan, take Six home and tell Maharet to lock the doors. We might be getting visitors soon.”

Before Six could react, Titan grabbed her by the hand and disappeared. Bael caught the fishing pole as she dropped it, expertly reeling in the line before casting it out again. Despite his earlier comment, the Baron was very good at fishing. It suited his patient and meticulous nature.

Bael didn't know why he had lied to Six. Part of him wanted to believe that it was an attempt to bring them closer. She could talk about her hobby and teach him, a perfect father daughter bonding activity. But Bael knew deep down that the real reason was his demonic nature.

He was a liar, a deceiver. The Baron was always plotting, trying to set himself up for a win later. Already his mind was scheming of ways to use the lie to his advantage. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

Being a parent was hard. Caring for others, worrying about them, trying to do what was best, and getting over his own baggage seemed like insurmountable tasks. But he was trying.

Bael had decided to fight his own nature because he knew that Six deserved better. He wanted her to have a choice, a chance to decide who she would be. He didn't want her to end up like him, a bitter old goat that lied to everyone around them.

So, instead of using a powerful young witch to his advantage, Bael had tried to be decent for once in his miserable existence. He had put his shit aside and sought peace, cultivated a spark of forgiveness inside of himself. The Baron had tried to heal old wounds so he wouldn't bleed on people who hadn’t cut him.

But that had also been a lie. Bael was still angry. He was so fucking angry. The Baron hid it well, but deep inside of him was a well of hate that could drown whole continents. It gnawed at him, like a dog latched onto his ankle, refusing to let go.

Bael hated Lucy for creating him to fight in her war with heaven. He hated the angels who slaughtered his brothers. He hated his fellow demons for being mindless beasts that fought amongst themselves instead of making things better. But he was still trying to forgive them, for her sake.

He wanted to be better. He wanted to be a good father. He wanted to be able to let go. And now, like ripples from a rock tossed into a pond, someone had come to shatter the illusion of peace. Summer had ended.

It was sheer arrogance to rapture away the humans around them and think Bael wouldn't notice. But angels had never been adept at guile. They left that for the demons, like him.

Bael could sense them in the air above him, preparing for a sneak attack. The Baron continued to cast and retrieve his line. If the angels had been paying attention, or known anything about fishing, they would have realized something was up. There wasn't a worm on the end of his hook anymore, and the line had taken on a distinctive golden sheen.

A fluttering of wings announced the beginning of their attack. Bael grinned as he took a step back and yanked up on the rod like he was trying to set the hook. There was a supersonic crack and shouts of surprise from the attacking angels as the thin golden line lashed out like a whip.

It spun in an arc around him, cutting anything in its path. Trees toppled and bloody feathers rained down around him. Slowly, Bael turned around to face the Archangel leading the angelic horde.

Wounded angels tried to stay airborne, looking at the demon in shock. With one attack he had killed half their forces and wounded the rest. Only Gabriel remained untouched by the golden lash.

Bael carefully set down the fishing rod and walked towards them. “You know, a rejection letter would have been sufficient. There was no need to come in person.”

Gabriel gritted his teeth. “I won't let you pollute heaven. I'd rather die than see a demon walk past the pearly gates.”

The Baron laughed. “You don't have a choice. None of us do. If God wants me there, that's where I'll be. If he wants you to fall, that's where you'll be. We're all puppets, but some of us can see our strings.”

Before the Archangel could react, Bael made a pulling motion with his hand. Gabriel watched as dozens of golden threads went taut, ensnaring the remaining angels. Seconds later, he was the only one remaining.

Gabriel looked down at the shredded remains of what had once been his army. His face contorted in rage. “You're going to pay for that.”

The Baron smirked, summoning more golden threads. “Put it on my tab.”