Demetrius thought he would have the day off with his girlfriend, but found himself going through a private library only for Choirs and sidekicks. Sighing heavily, he already missed the relaxing night on the sofa with her.

Searching in the backroom storage with five to ten years of files, documents, and videotapes, Demetrius finally found a box of Pitch’s execution security tapes. It took him about forty-five minutes, and then he strode down the corridor leading to the Celestial Hotel.

He took the elevator to the seventh floor and dropped the brown box on the large coffee table with a heavy thud. Demetrius groaned, feeling too young to get back pains, but he had been moving heavy boxes.

Standing in the living room of the Celestial Hotel, he breathed out. He slumped on a sofa, on the dedication floor of a private suit where the Archangel’s loyalest could gather and discuss.

Demetrius tossed off the box lid, looking at a flash drive and some paperwork in it. The box felt heavier than those items, but his muscles were sore from lifting for an hour.

A computer was charged on a desk and generally used for work. He grabbed it and sat back on the couch, putting the laptop on his lap.

There was no long password to log in with, but a four-digit pen number. He already felt sluggish and dreaded every moment of this. Plugging into the flash drive, and saw a folder with three videos, each one of the three days Pitch spent in prison Another folder had many footage throughout the day split up and had simple words of what the videos contained.

Demetrius clicked on the beginning of a short clip of Pitch’s breakfast and afterward texted Ashley that the movie had been canceled and told her what Michael instructed. He sat in silence beside a few noises in the footage.

Standing up and ambling over to a drawer, the Orchestra grabbed a pencil and a notebook. Michael ordered him to write anyone who had seen Pitch during his three days. He would also note if he noticed anything bizarre.

Kate’s brother watched the videos for a good chunk of thirty minutes, which he felt were hours. The elevator dinged, and Demetrius looked behind his shoulder to see who had come.

Ashley strode from the elevator and sat next to her boyfriend. “I had a suspicion you would be here,” she averred. She gazed at a video playing. “So, Michael wants you to find out who let Pitch escape. Well, I think an extra pair of eyes will help.”

Happiness overrode inside of him, and he felt bad dragging his girlfriend into this but studying the videos with her would be less cumbersome. “Yes, thank you. I agree; having another pair of eyes besides my already exhausted ones would be awesome.”

“How long do you think this might take us?” asked Ashley, leaving him and heading to a small kitchen.

“If we carefully analyze each video, then we will be well past midnight.”

Ashley started brewing coffee, and she slumped back on the sofa minutes later with two cups of steaming coffee, one black and one with cubes of sugar. She handed Demetrius his sugared coffee. He placed the computer on the coffee table and sipped his refreshing coffee, ready to get the caffeine kicking so he could work to the best of his ability.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

Even though he wished he was doing anything else, Demetrius was honored to work for the Archangel. He was a Prowler, but not like the way Kate worked. He didn’t roam the streets and kill Infernals, but he took cases of mysterious murders that seemed unnatural or events that raised some suspicions. Then he’d go to investigate to see if those cases led to Infernals that murdered the mundanes.

Michael assigned missions to Kate and Sara, and they would protect the city, while Demetrius tracked down the Infernals himself—he enjoyed playing detective and finding where they hid. He could easily hack into the databases of any police headquarters without their knowledge to get the information he needed.

His girlfriend snuggled against him, her smooth legs over his thighs, while they watched the videotapes for over four hours. He fast-forwarded many times to cut back on the time.

Demetrius wrote down who had come into Pitch’s cell or met him. John, Daniel, Michael, Sara, and Kate spoke to Pitch while a couple of Choirs gave him his meals throughout the day. He didn’t remember the Choirs' names, but he would be able to trace down their names easily.

Ricky and he had dragged Pitch to his execution spot, with several witnesses to watch Michael finish him.

Could one of these Harmonies save him right before he died? Demetrius counted thirty-six watching in total and was surprised that the most powerful warlock didn’t have more of a gathering, but that was good for him—fewer names to look up.

He rewinded the execution many more times. Michael killing him looked legit, and what the hell was that smirk for on Pitch’s face? He quickly noted that that was important. He queried Ashley if she spotted anything unusual.

“Everything about those days wasn’t normal,” commented Ashley with a sigh, not spotting anything that stood out to her.

Getting close to midnight, the couple slumped on the couch, staring at the computer blankly. They could go over the videos one more time, but did they want to? No.

Demetrius closed the laptop and reclined on the couch. The caffeine worked wonderfully in his system and worked too well. He rubbed his eyes from exhaustion, but somehow, at the same time, he felt like he could run a mile.

“Thanks for coming,” mumbled Demetrius, stretching his arms up.

His girlfriend purred, her hand tracing up his jeans. “Well, if you are thankful, then make it up to me.” She kissed him before he could respond. He combed his fingers through her tangerine hair; stress withered away from him.

His heart pounded so hard with love that he felt it might rip out of his chest. Demetrius’s hands slid up her shirt, feeling the heat of her body. They kissed hard and wanted nothing more but just each other.

“Um, I hope I’m not disturbing something…” Ricky interrupted.

The couple lurched in surprise, befuddled that they didn’t hear the noise of the elevator. They were too engrossed and in love to notice.

Ashley turned away, her face pink and her hair tangled.

“No, not at all,” replied Demetrius quickly, clearing his throat and sitting back up.

Trying to hold back his laughter, Ricky said, “I asked Daniel where you were, Demetrius, and he told me that you were looking into the videotapes and would probably be in your room or here. I thought I would come to help.” He flopped down next to his brother, turning back the computer. He chuckled. “Guess you guys got distracted, aye?”

“No.” scowled Demetrius. “We finished watching the tapes.”

Ricky looked at him with furrowed eyebrows and said, "Oh, really, you watched seventy-two hours worth in less than five hours?” He grinned. “I’m teasing, but I think we should take one more look at a few short clips before calling it tonight.”

Demetrius and Ashley groaned but were too flustered to oppose another hour into the night.