Folding her legs, she thudded into the ground, alight with crackling electricity. Figuring out Elizabeth’s trick had paid off. Since muscle twitches controlled movement, and electrical signals from the brain controlled those, what would happen if one supercharged those signals?

They would tear their muscles in half.

Of course, she had realised that before attempting it. She needed a way to reinforce her muscles so they could take the strain first.

Unfortunately, she hadn’t quite figured it out yet, and she was falling too quickly to get a grip on the energy surrounding her. She couldn’t fly like this.

Without testing a thing, she was being forced to use her new technique and potentially cripple herself. Given the alternative was death, it was a decent option.

The impact would require her to make her bones stronger, too; she had no spell for that, but it couldn’t be much different from her muscle principle. Just make it denser.

She cannoned into the pavement and bounced off, careening back at Malacoda.

Even as a distant speck rapidly growing bigger, she could see Malacoda’s eyes bugging from their sockets.

A pleasant shiver ran through her. Satan had sent his lackey to find his son, whether he wanted it or not, but he’d sent him into the jaws of a waiting predator instead.

Whether God and Satan existed or not, she wouldn’t let the world end. She did, after all, have to live there.

Grabbing hold of the quintessence around her, she channelled it into her usual air streams. With a smirk, she returned to Malacoda’s height.

“I didn’t realise Hell would be quite this awful,” she said.

“What… the fuck?” said Malacoda.

She gripped the force of his own movement, gesturing with her hand as she curled it into a fist. He shot over to her, stopping a breath away. Their noses almost touched.

Sneering, she pushed his chin with a finger. “Did you enjoy my little performance? I could have just charged straight through you, of course, but then we wouldn’t have this chance to talk.”

He scoffed. “Let me guess, you want to ask me why we’re doing this, what Armageddon’s for, right?”

She shook her head, a bolt of giddy fire running down her spine. “What was your name again, Malacodeine? Is that a new sort of painkiller?”

“It’s Malacoda, and answer my question! Don’t you want answers?”

“Actually, I just wanted to hear you beg.”

Gulping, he blanched. “That doesn’t sound like something a good guy would say.”

“I never said I was a good guy.”

He sighed, his features sagging in relief. “Well, I’m a bad guy, so maybe we could team up?”

“I didn’t say I was a bad guy, either.”

“Then what are you?”

“Something in between, I think. I’m not quite sure yet.”

“Then tell me: what is it you care about in this dump? Why are you stopping us?”

With a wistful smile, she said, “Hell on Earth would be quite inconvenient. Plus, it struck a chord; I have a little experience with possessive parents.”

Breathing shakily, Malacoda met her gaze with fearful eyes. “It’s not about the boy, you know.”

“Still,” she said, a toothy grin breaking out, “it involves him, so I won’t let it happen.” She searched for an ember, finding a small spark of heat and shoving it into his gut. It would grow slowly. She estimated around twenty seconds for the first screams, then full incineration in a minute.

Gasping, his arm twitched; it was the only movement he could muster. “Listen. The boy, the ritual, Armageddon, it’s all just a beacon. We want to get His attention.”

“Whose attention?”

“Who do you think? God!”

She squinted. “What on Earth for?”

“To kill him!” he said, eyes frenzied. “You can see it too, right: the unfairness and the injustice? You’ve suffered because of His apathy too, right? Everyone has!”

Eying him with a thoughtful expression, she sped up the burning.

He screamed.

That’s right, she thought, scream until there’s nothing left.

An orange glow began piercing his skin, revealing what was behind it: nothing but ash.

“Kill God,” she said, teeth bared. “How quaint.”

***

They sped through the darkened streets, Crow honking at every car they struggled to overtake.

She was in the front seat of a tiny Beetle, her knees almost up to her shoulders. In the back, Alex sat cuddling Buttons. His eyes were downcast and distant.

Poor kid.

The leather upholstery was cold against her back, even through her coat; his air freshener was offensive, some unholy combination of lemons and cola. She turned to Crow.

“Where did you say we’d meet them?”

He waved his hand. “Some bookshop, I dunno. We’ll be there soon.”

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“How do you know we’ll be there soon if you don’t know where it is?”

“I’m a demon, we have a sixth sense for these sorts of things.”

Leaning back, she folded her arms. “That’s not very impressive; the last demon I met could snap off his dicks and use them as weapons.”

Crow grimaced. “I’m sorry, did you just say ‘dicks’? Plural?”

“That’s right,” said Hannah. “At least eight.”

“At least?” he said, eyes widening.

“Yeah, he was a real ladykiller. Almost got killed by the ghost of Kev Bassman, though.”

“The author?”

“That’s the one.”

Squinting, Crow said, “I don’t know whether to believe you or not.”

She nodded. “It’s true; Jack and Lydia were there, as well.”

“Whatever,” he said, checking the rear-view mirror. “Oi, Antichrist.”

Hannah slapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t call him that!”

He clenched his jaw. “Ow! Fine: oi, Alex-Christ.”

She hit him again. “Just use his name, for crying out loud!” She craned her head, facing the boy as he stared at the floor. “Alex,” she said.

Eyes flickering upwards, he said, “yeah?”

“Crow would like to say something.”

Pouting, he glanced at the driver. “The demon?”

With a soft expression, she nodded. “He is, but he’s different from the rest. He loves Earth.”

Crow raised a finger. “Now, let’s get one thing straight: I don’t love Earth, I just love catgirls.”

Alex sniffed. “But there aren’t any catgirls on Earth.”

“No,” said Crow, grinning, “but there are novels about catgirls, and that’s even better.”

She sighed. Why could no-one around her ever be honest with themselves?

“So,” said Crow, tone growing serious, “Alex. How do you feel about rivers of blood, bottomless pits of fire and brimstone, that kind of thing?”

His jaw hung open, nose wrinkled in disgust. “That sounds terrible.”

Pursing his lips, Crow nodded. “Okay, just checking. At least we know we don’t have to kill you.”

“You were gonna kill him?!” said Hannah, chin plummeting.

“Only if he was a threat!”

“It’s fine,” said Alex, tone empty. “Can’t allow Hell on Earth, right? Why did the Devil decide he gets to walk into my life now, anyway? I already have a dad, a really cool one.”

Hannah smiled. “You like your dad?”

“Yeah,” said Alex, “he’s always working, but he can’t help it; if he doesn’t, we won’t have anywhere to live or anything to eat.”

“Was it always like that?”

Nuzzling Buttons, Alex pulled the dog closer. “Ever since mum left.”

“She was the breadwinner, was she?” said Crow. “Very modern.”

Hannah shot him a glare before turning back to Alex. “Do you ever get lonely?”

Alex shook his head. “We still have each other. And Buttons.” The hell-hound nuzzled him.

Nodding, Hannah smiled again. “That’s good. My mum’s a complete nutcase, but she always looks out for me.”

Alex nodded back, his focus returning to a spot in the distance as he absentmindedly petted his dog. Hannah faced front, noting the increasing frequency of colourful buildings with no lights on.

They were approaching the city centre.

“Hey, Crow,” said Alex, “what do they even want with me? It’s a bit hard to believe that the devil just wants a reunion.”

Pursing his lips, Crow said, “no, that’s about it, as far as I know. Probably wants you to rule at his side, or something like that.”

“You don’t sound very sure.”

He rubbed his head. “Yeah, well, it’s not like I know everything; all we have is one little prophecy.”

“Didn’t they teach you things like this in demon school?” asked Hannah.

He tapped his hands on the wheel, stopping at a red light. “I wasn’t paying attention, I was-”

“Reading about catgirls, we know.”

“Actually, it’s cause I was busy cleaning the teacher’s shoes.”

“What kind of school is that?!”

“It is in Hell.”

“Fair point. All we have is the prophecy, but don’t you have the book?”

He glared at her. “If I had the book, what the bloody hell would we need you for?!”

Pressing his foot down, he narrowed his eyes when the car didn’t move. “That’s strange.”

“The light’s green,” said Hannah, pointing.

Crow slammed his fist into the dashboard. “I’m well aware, you infuriating child, but the damn thing’s stuck!”

The thrum of revving overpowered her hearing, the smell of smoke and petrol and burning rubber leaking in from outside. She checked the wing mirror.

The back wheels were spinning and throwing up clouds of smoke. Turning back to Crow, she swallowed a lump in her throat.

“What’s happening?”

Suddenly, Buttons leapt from Alex’s lap, hopping in front of the rear window and yapping.

Alex scrambled after him, eyes wide and teeth clenched. “Buttons, what are you doing?”

The engine noise was replaced by a high screech, enough to pierce their eardrums and narrow their visions. Hannah almost screamed, the sound grating across her brain like nails on a chalkboard.

A blast of cold air hit them.

Like it was a tin of beans, someone was ripping the car’s roof off. With more screeching, it finally came free.

Flying in the wind, the roof disappeared from sight.

Above them, flapping a pair of leathery wings, was another demon; tall but slender, he wore a full black robe instead of a loincloth. Fine white hair tumbled down his shoulders, bright green shining from his eyes. His facial bones were arranged oddly, like a square.

Alex did scream, hiding his face in his arms; Buttons took a place in front of him, growling.

“Farfarello,” said Crow, chewing his lip, “do you mind? I hope you can afford the repair bill.”

The demon beamed, sabre-like fangs shining in his mouth. He looked almost like a goblin, she thought. But less green.

“Give me the boy and I’ll buy you a new one.”

“Yeah, of course,” said Crow, massaging his forehead. “But, one thing: what do we need him for? I can’t imagine he’ll be of much use, even if he is the Antichrist.”

Glowering at him, an intense heat shot from Hannah’s heart, burning through her veins. Was he serious? He was going to betray them now? What about his novels?

He caught her eye and winked.

Oh.

Deciding to keep her mouth shut, she glanced at Farfarello; the demon was giving them an odd look.

He laughed. “Crow, you fool, did you forget about the ritual?”

Jumping, Crow said, “ah, of course, the ritual! What ritual was that, again?”

“The ritual to summon Satan? Requires one bearing his blood?”

With a strained smile, he nodded. “Right, yes. That ritual. Well, just tell me where it is and I’ll get him there, no problem.”

“Your car has no roof.”

“Never heard of a convertible?”

Hannah felt her heart in her skull; she was shaking like a hypothermic paint mixer.

She stared through the windscreen.

“You’re not fooling me, Crow,” said Farfarello. “You’ve always been against Armageddon.”

Crow shrugged. “Worth a try. Plus, try getting past that hell-hound.”

Tilting his head, Farfarello eyed the dog. “Think fast, puppy.”

He disappeared.

Rubbernecking, Hannah bit her lip as she searched around. In an instant, her heart had dropped from her mouth to her feet, via the bottomless pit in her stomach.

“Help!” A distant cry from in front of them, full of fear and regret and despair.

Buttons whined.

Though they could hear him, they couldn’t see a thing.

Alex was gone.