II
"If you have fun, fine. It's not all life and death." - Bill Palatino
It took her a while to get her breathing under control. It didn't help that David was staring at her like she'd grown a second head. It was hard to kill an angel. There were only a handful of ways they could be destroyed, and if they put up a fight it was even harder. Besides, humans had no reasons to kill angels.
But it wasn't just an angel that had been murdered.
She made her way over to the kneeling body, the one she'd had an adverse reaction to. She could hear David asking what she was doing, before he finally realized he wasn't about to get any answers out of her and shut his mouth. She had a sinking feeling about what type of creature this was. A feeling that was quickly confirmed when she tugged down the girl's shirt and saw the two scars on her shoulder blades. It would've been where her wings had been, before they'd been ripped off when she'd succumbed to darkness, at least.
Demon.
Every demon had been an angel at some point. Her kind liked to refer to them as "The Fallen", because demon was supposedly too harsh a term and they were just fallen angels. Angels who'd gone down a dark path for one reason or another. Emma would be lying if she said she hadn't felt the pull of the darkness every now and again. It was like a constant whisper in her ear, a whisper that would get louder if she used her powers, or if something tragic happened. Emma Swan was no stranger to tragedy, so the whisper was pretty constant.
"Emma?" David tried again, and this time she heard him.
"She's a demon," Emma called over her shoulder as she pulled the girl's shirt back up.
"A demon?" David replied incredulously. He'd never seen a demon before as far as she knew.
"Yup." Emma made her way over to the woman on the floor. It was hard to tell with all the lacerations, but Emma couldn't see any bumps or scars. This victim had been human. Emma straightened up and pulled off one of her rubber gloves. She fished her iPhone out of her jean pocket and began taking pictures of the crime scene. She wasn't entirely sure if she was allowed to do that, but she'd need the pictures later and David didn't protest.
"She doesn't look like a demon," David said and Emma turned to see him hovering over the victim.
Emma rolled her eyes and stuffed her phone back into her pocket. "Because I look like the stereotypical angel, don't I, Dave?" Emma asked rhetorically as she went to stand next to her brother.
"You know what I mean; I didn't know if demons looked… ya know," David placed one hand on his hip and began to gesture abstractedly in the air. "Evil," he finished.
"Demons, much like angels, can hide their true appearance. Helps them get closer to humans," Emma explained.
"Why would they need to get close to humans?" David asked. Her brother had never truly understood her role as an angel; but accepted it had something to do with helping humanity.
"Oh you know corruption, destruction, and they have this fun little habit of sucking out a person's soul," Emma smirked as she knocked her hip playfully into her brothers'.
David gulped visibly. "Okay, so demons are bad then."
"Demons are bad," Emma affirmed. Bad was a bit of an understatement. Angels and demons, per the stereotype, were mortal enemies. They were constantly involved in a battle between good and evil. It'd had led to some of the greatest confrontations in history; The Hundred Years War, the War of the Roses, the American and French revolutions, the Civil War, and both World Wars to name a few. Things had been relatively quiet in recent years, but Emma wasn't foolish enough to believe that would last. Angels were light and demons were dark; they would always clash.
"But this one was murdered," David, being helpful as always, pointed out the obvious.
"Yes, this one was murdered," Emma reiterated. It was a curious thing. Demons were nearly as hard as angels to kill. The only reason they were easier to destroy was because there were more ways to do it. Whoever had done this had to have been incredibly powerful, or incredibly determined, in order to pull this feat off.
"So, what are we dealing with here? A vigilante? A pissed off human with an agenda against supernatural beings?" David asked.
"I'm not a fucking vampire, angels aren't supernatural beings."
"Sorry I didn't use the right terminology. Besides, you do have wings, much like a bat," David teased and Emma made a grand show of rolling her eyes before she shoved him a little too hard. "Ow," he muttered as he rubbed his bicep.
"I didn't push you that hard." She did. "Anyways, I don't think it's a human. That victim," Emma gestured to the body laying face down on the floor. "Was human and look how it was treated. Whoever this was dumped it like it was trash. Apart from the lacerations on the back, it doesn't seem like he cared very much about this victim." Emma moved to stand over by the angel. "Look at this victim's face," Emma said as she pointed out the bruises. The man's face was still swollen, and it was clear that he'd been severely beaten before he died. "This kind of damage takes serious rage. Not to mention that impaling him on a pole post-mortem was completely unnecessary. This kind of damage implies a personal vendetta."
"How do you know the pole thing happened post-mortem," David asked.
"Angels are an impenetrable bunch and this is a simple metal pole. It wouldn't have moved through his body had this happened when he was still alive." David nodded as he took in her words. She appreciated her brother's never-ending trust in her. None of this could be easy for him to grasp, but he believed everything she told him without hesitation. Faith was what gave angels their strength, and Emma was incredibly reliant on David when it came to hers. "Now over here," Emma said as she crouched next to the demon. "We have our victim posed in a submissive state. They weren't beaten as intensely though, which is interesting."
"What do you think it means?"
"I'm not sure, I haven't watched enough NCIS to be able to give you a concrete answer on that," Emma replied with a smile. David smirked and jerked his head towards the door, and Emma gave him a nod signifying she would follow. She took one last look around the room, shook her head, and began removing her gloves as she exited. She and David exited the house and Emma wrapped her arms tightly around herself when she met the October air. It wasn't that she was cold, the breeze actually felt refreshing against her skin, rather, she was doing her best to hold herself together. This case, these murders, were bad news for angels and demons alike.
David eyed her warily; he knew her well enough to know a breakdown was coming. Emma absolutely hated when she couldn't figure things out, and this mystery and the threat it posed were going to drive her nuts. "What do you want to do?" David asked. Emma knew he wasn't asking how she wanted to proceed professionally, but rather what steps she wanted to take to protect herself and the rest of the, as he'd phrased it earlier, "supernatural" community.
"I'm not sure," Emma responded as she kicked at the wet pavement with the toe of her boot. "I want to know why the hell he chose now to start murdering non-humans. I've been consulting on these cases for three years, but he's been at this for what, nearly a decade?"
"This will be the seventh year, yeah."
"What changed? People don't just flip a switch and break their old habits like that," Emma muttered. She tried to think of a reason, any damn reason, but found herself coming up short.
David placed his hands on Emma's shoulders and crouched down so that he was at eye-level. "Don't stress about this, Emma. We're going to get this whole situation sorted and everything is going to be fine," David smiled before pulling his little sister into a hug.
He was lying. She knew he was lying. She had always had a knack for telling when a person was lying. Maybe it was the foster kid thing, maybe it was just an Emma thing. Didn't really matter. The perp had been at this for seven years and they'd never come close to catching him. He was lying and she knew it, but she hugged him back anyways. "You're right," she muttered.
He wasn't
Something was coming.
And it was going to be bad.
OOO
Emma spent the night pacing around her living room. Henry had gone to bed shortly after he had gotten home, having easily sensed his mom's unease. Emma had printed out the crime scene photos and said a silent thank-you to David, who had insisted she go all out with her printer. They were currently scattered about on her coffee table next to a bottle of whiskey. Emma examined them for the hundredth time as she took a swig right from the bottle. Angels had a much higher tolerance for alcohol; it took them quite a bit to get drunk, but she had managed to catch a buzz at some point in the night. A buzz that was quickly fading and leaving her more and more irritable. "Stupid, stupid, stupid," she muttered before she angrily swiped the photos off the table.
"Mom?" a voice called from behind her and she turned to see Henry standing in his doorway. He was wearing his school uniform; white oxford shirt, tan slacks, and a navy blazer which he was currently holding in his hand. One of his eyebrows quirked up as he took in the whiskey she was grasping.
Emma looked down at it like she was surprised it was there. "I've been working on the case," Emma explained as she set it down. She felt like a child whose parent had just caught them doing something they shouldn't be. In a lot of ways, Emma and Henry's relationship had always been like that. He was the adult. He was the one who told her strawberry Poptarts were not their own food group, who always reminded her to unplug her curling iron, and who informed her that doctor's appointments were a yearly occurrence. She'd be completely and utterly lost without him.
Henry gave her a megawatt smile as he shrugged into his blazer before taking a seat on the couch next to her. "Don't worry, I'm not judging. What is it?" Henry asked as he nodded his head to the papers on the ground.
Emma looked down and was relieved to find that none of the pictures were face up. "A murder case. We get one like it every year on my birthday."
Henry's face lit up. "You don't think it's connected to you, do you?"
Emma gave him a small smile. Even after all these years, Henry still believed his mother was of the utmost importance to the world. She never had the heart to tell him if anyone didn't matter, it was her. "No kid, I like where you're going, but no." She could tell he was going to argue with her so she quickly added "what's unique about this one is that the victims included an angel and a demon."
Henry's eyes widened as he took in his mother's words. "Someone killed an angel and a demon? Why?"
Emma looked down at her son, who was full of nothing but excitement at this new adventure, and felt a pang of guilt. What kind of mother dragged their child into this world? Being what she was came with a lot of benefits, but it also meant she and everyone close to her was in constant danger. Emma vowed right then and there, that while she may not be the best parent, she would protect her son at any and all costs. "I don't why someone would do this, but I do know you're going to be late if we don't get going," Emma said as she hoisted herself up off the couch.
Henry quickly followed her lead as he grabbed his bag off the hook by the front door. "You sure you don't want me to stay here with you? Help you crack the case?" Henry asked as Emma pushed on her sunglasses and pulled open the door.
She could tell, not just because angels could tell when someone was being sincere, but also because he was her son, that he had ulterior motives. She slid her glasses down her nose so that he could see her eyes. "What's the test in?" she asked. Henry paused for a moment, and she could tell he was considering making something up. "You know I'll just pluck the answer right out of your head."
"It's a Spanish project," Henry muttered.
Emma gave him a shit-eating grin.
Henry rolled his eyes and walked out the door, throwing a "shut up" over his shoulder as they made their way to the Bug. Emma smiled as she locked the door behind them. She waved to Granny, who was sitting on her front porch knitting a sweater, and walked down to where her son was already pouting in the car.
"Oh cheer up, I'm sure it'll be fine," Emma said as she placed the key into the ignition. It took three turns, a lot of swearing, and maybe just a little bit of magic before the thing finally sputtered to life.
"It's not going to be fine and I think this piece of crap is on its last leg," Henry growled as he stared out the window.
He knew the car comment would get to her, and boy did it ever. "This car is older than you, treat it with respect," she shot back. What pissed her off the most was that he was right, of course he was right, she just wouldn't admit it. Emma had always had a bit of a hoarding tendency. When she was younger it was because she hardly ever owned anything, and she clung to whatever could possibly be considered hers. After she'd died that motivation had changed. She just became so damn tired of things growing, changing, and dying when she never could. So, she never got rid of anything.
The pair of them sat in silence for most of the ride, Emma stewing over her inability to age, and Henry pondering God knows what, as the houses grew bigger and bigger.
They were about a block from school when Henry caved first. "I'm sorry about what I said, I know you're sensitive, I'm just nervous is all," Henry admitted and all of Emma's anger melted away.
Emma placed a comforting hand on her son's shoulder as she pulled into the carpool line. "I know you are, but you're going to be great."
"Yeah, but what if I'm not. Spanish isn't my strongest subject and I need this A," Henry muttered.
Emma knew her son put a lot of pressure on himself to do well in school. Money was tight for the two of them, and Henry tried to alleviate that burden by getting every scholarship in the book. Emma told him he didn't need to do that, but her son always insisted. "Look, no matter what happens, you're still the smartest kid in that school. You and I both know you have the capability to kick ass, so go do it," Emma replied and Henry rewarded her with a small smile.
"Thanks, Mom," he said as he kissed her cheek and exited the car.
Emma watched him walk for a bit before she closed her eyes and performed a little luck magic to help him get through the day. He was nearly inside when Emma, not being able to resist, leaned out the window and yelled at the top of her lungs, "Adios, Don Quixote!"
She swore if she wasn't his mother, he would've flipped her off.
Emma smiled as she pulled away from the school and headed to the closest Dunkin Donuts. She ordered one large, black coffee and a maple donut, and then stared at them both longingly when the barista gave them to her. Not being able to fully enjoy human food sucked. It sucked a lot. She set the coffee in the cupholder and threw the donut into the passenger seat as she made her way to the South End District. Mary Margaret and David had been trying to get her to move to the area for years. It was one of those hip and trendy neighborhoods that was about to become incredibly expensive. It bordered Roxbury, the neighborhood where the two of them worked. Roxbury was a poorer section of Boston, though nowhere near as bad as Emma's neighborhood. It was notorious for its new police station, where David had managed to get a job, and had several child service offices where Mary Margaret worked.
Her best friend and her brother were practically engaged.
It had been incredibly weird at first, and the two of them attempted to pretend like nothing was going on, but Emma was an angel for Christ's sake, they couldn't hide anything from her. In fact, she was surprised she hadn't figured it out from David, given that she could read his mind and not Mary Margaret's, but her friend had let it slip one night. They'd been having a girl's sleepover (not Emma's idea), and Emma had simply asked what color she wanted to paint her toes when Mary Margaret had blurted that she'd been dating her brother for three months. While Emma had insisted that it was fine, although she'd been a little peeved they hadn't told her sooner, it took her another three months to get used to them showing physical affection in front of her. A year and a half later and they were sharing the gorgeous Victorian-style home Emma was pulling up to. She hadn't been surprised when they moved in together, their relationship had always progressed pretty rapidly (granted Emma was infamous for moving at a glacial pace when it came to men), but everything had gone well from there. Besides, the two of them had never been happier, so she had given the relationship her blessing, so to speak.
Emma walked through the front door, donut and coffee in hand, without knocking.
One would think she would've stopped doing that when she walked in on them one time shortly after they bought the house. Then again, Emma was the kind of person who seemingly made the same mistakes over and over again. Just look at all her past relationships.
Thankfully, the two of them were both clothed. David was sliding into his jacket and Mary Margaret was sitting on the couch watching the news. "Hey," Emma called as she placed the donut and coffee into David's hands.
"You're an angel," David smiled as he took a sip of the drink.
"Clever," Emma replied as she gave him a dry laugh. "You ready to go?" she asked Mary Margaret, who turned off the television in response.
She stood up and pulled Emma into a hug, before scurrying up the stairs. "I just need to grab my purse," she explained before she disappeared.
Emma turned to David who was looking at the donut like it was his first and last love. "You're such a cliche; cop with a love of donuts," she laughed as she nodded to the pastry.
"What can I say; I'm a sucker for sweets," David smiled before his expression turned somber. "I didn't tell Mary Margaret about the case."
Emma's eyebrows furrowed at his statement. "You're not the type to keep secrets," she said slowly.
"I know, and I'm not. I just don't want her to worry is all," David explained.
Emma decided not to push him on the decision. He was right, Mary Margaret was definitely a worrier. Still, she hated to keep something from her friend. "All right, she's your girlfriend so I defer to you. But do me a favor," Emma lowered her voice when she heard her friend on the steps. "Let me know when they ID the bodies. I'm gonna do a little digging on the side to see what I can unearth."
"Are you two talking about work?" Mary Margaret called as she bounded down the final two steps.
"Not at all," David lied unconvincingly.
Mary Margaret gave Emma a look that said "humans", before she kissed her boyfriend on the cheek. "We should probably get going, don't want to be late," she smiled as she grabbed her coat and slung her purse higher on her shoulder.
Emma smirked at her brother and placed a hand on his arm. "I'll see you soon. Swing by the house if you get a chance, Henry misses his uncle," she said as she followed her friend out the door.
"I will. Keep doing God's work," David yelled as the women climbed into Emma's car.
They rolled their eyes.
OOO
Emma pulled her hair back into a ponytail and readjusted her surgical mask. She and Mary Margaret charged into the oncology wing in Boston Children's Hospital. Little kids with cancer was one of those things that Emma would never understand no matter how long she lived. She could only imagine what it would be like to be mortal and be powerless to do anything. And if it were Henry who were sick, if it were Henry who were dying and she couldn't do anything…
The thought made her want to die all over again.
Luckily, she could do something. Being divine certainly had its drawbacks, but helping those who needed it was not one of them. In fact, the healing aspect of her powers was nearly enough to make the not aging thing worth it. She and Mary Margaret bounced around from hospital to hospital helping those that they could. Her friend was the one who suggested it might be good for Emma when she walked in to her apartment one day and found her in a catatonic state on the couch lamenting over her uselessness. Emma had been reluctant to join her, convinced that it would only make her more depressed, but all it had taken was one patient and Emma was hooked. She couldn't stop death of course, that was beyond any being's, divine or not, power. Still, she could speed up the healing process, or, in the worst case scenario, ease the dying process. There were the occasional miracles, but Emma had only performed one of those in a moment of desperation and she'd been wiped out for weeks afterwards.
Thankfully, her current patient was pretty easy. She placed a hand on the little boy's shoulder, nodding along as he babbled about Spiderman. Emma watched his mother out of the corner of her eye. The woman was also wearing a surgical mask, the boy's treatments had left his immune system compromised, and was staring at her son with a sad smile. She never left her son's bedside, and as a fellow mother, Emma sympathized with her. Luckily, her son would be fine. Emma could feel the sickness dissipating from the boy's body. It would take the human's machines a bit longer to detect the change, but she was confident in her work. He would survive.
Mary Margaret did not appear to be faring as well. Emma could hear her muttering lowly under her breath; a quiet plea to the light to give the child another chance. Angels took their power from the forces of light and life, whereas demons were children of darkness and death. Emma said a goodbye to the mother and the boy as she walked into the hallway. She continued to watch Mary Margaret as she ripped off her surgical mask. She finally saw her friend's face fall as Mary Margaret placed a featherlight kiss to the boy's temple and walked out.
"Too far gone," Mary Margaret explained as she pushed the mask down. "Had to let him go. Should be painless though," she whispered.
Emma reached out and took Mary Margaret's hand. She had never been good at comforting people, but she knew Mary Margaret well enough to know what her friend needed. "You can't save them all," she replied, giving her a sad smile.
"I just hate when it's kids."
Emma took in the oncology wing, full of children who hadn't been given enough time. "I know, maybe…"
But Emma's words were cut off as the room took on a distinctly colder feeling, as though someone had turned the thermostat down several degrees. It only lasted a moment, but it was enough to get Emma's adrenaline going. Emma watched as Mary Margaret shifted into defense mode. They knew what was coming.
Sure enough, not a moment later the doors to the wing burst open, and in sauntered a demon. He was young, not only did he physically look like he was in his mid-twenties, but he clearly hadn't died all that long ago. The demon had wide-eyes that took in every single aspect of the room and a brunette buzzcut. He looked like someone had pumped a shit load of caffeine directly into his veins. His eyes fell on the two women instantaneously, and he smirked widely as he took in their tense stances.
"Hello, ladies," the demon purred as he sidled up next to them.
Emma watched Mary Margaret step backwards reflexively. Her friend was much older, her instincts were more ingrained within her. She was also a much better angel than Emma. Mary Margaret was good through and through, which meant she tried to avoid fights as best she could unless she was protecting something . Emma was younger, and had far darker tendencies, which is why she walked right up to the man so that their noses were practically touching. "You can't be here. Hospitals are off limits to your kind," Emma growled.
"Quite feisty, aren't you little one?" the wiry man asked in a thick British accent. Emma rolled her eyes at the "little" quip, they were practically the same height. "Ya think I'm scared of a bird?"
"Bird" was a slang term for angel. It was the demons attempt to strip all the majesty and grace of their godly counterparts and turn them into something that they saw as fragile and earthly.
They'd clearly never met a Swan before.
"You may not be frightened of me yet, but I can promise you that you will be if you push me too far. Besides, I'm not the only one who'll dole out a punishment. Your kind doesn't have many rules, but not being in hospitals is one of them, so if you aren't afraid of me, perhaps you'll be afraid of the High Council," Emma spat. She was bluffing of course, demons had only one rule, and that was don't expose your kind, but she was betting that the arrogant, naive prick in front of her didn't know that. She knew she could kick his ass to next Sunday, but she could feel the tension radiating off of Mary Margaret and thought it was best not to engage in a fight in front of the children.
The man's eyes widened in uncertainty and the smile dropped from his face for a fraction of a second as he weighed her words. Then, all too quickly, the smug expression was back and he was leering down at her. "Alright, milady, you win this round," he quipped as he raised his arms in mock surrender and backed towards the door. "I'm sure you and I will be seeing each other again real soon," he said before he made a grand show of bowing to her, turning on his heel, and strutting out the door.
Emma waited until the chill in her bones subsided. She waited until the air stopped humming with electricity. She waited until her muscles relaxed and the blood stopped pulsing through her veins. She waited until she was certain she wouldn't need to pull out her wings and go full kamikaze on that cocky son of a bitch's ass. Then she spoke. "You alright?" she asked her friend, who was clearly coming down off her adrenaline rush as well.
"I'm fine," Mary Margaret sighed as she began to take stock of the children. Kids were always much more perceptive when it came to divine occurrences. They hadn't been taught to tell themselves that angels and demons were pretend, and that anything that suggested otherwise was a trick of the mind. Adults shut their eyes, children did not.
Luckily, none of them seemed too fazed. "That was bizarre," Emma muttered, turning back to the doors where the demon had come in. Maybe they could give her answers. He hadn't looked like he came in to instigate a fight. Hospitals may not actually be off-limits to demons, but that didn't mean they were easy for them to get into. Something in their basic biology kept them from getting too close to institutions like hospitals and churches. They were supposed to be safe havens from whatever went bump in the night. So why go through all the trouble of getting in here, only to walk away?
"You think he was working alone, or on behalf of someone else?" Mary Margaret asked, startling Emma out of her thoughts.
Demons were, ironically, much more social than angels. Their society was incredibly hierarchal. It was all about showing you were dominant, and the best way to do that was to control younger, or less powerful demons. Angels, on the other hand, typically worked alone. Mary Margaret and Emma were actually an anomaly in that sense. "He was definitely a grunt, he probably works for one of the lesser known Fallen given how brazen he's being," Emma replied, but her mind was spinning towards new possibilities.
And dammit if her friend didn't know her. "Emma? What's wrong?" Mary Margaret stepped closer to the blonde, her voice lowering so no one could overhear.
Emma took in her friend's facial expression, her protective stance, and couldn't help but smile. If you'd ask a younger Emma, an Emma who had been bouncing around from family to family, if she'd ever have someone who cared for her this much, she would've denied it. Mary Margaret would die for her, no questions asked. So, Emma decided not to worry her friend with a hunch. "It's nothing, really. Just something that I think could help me with the case I'm working on. I'm going to swing by the station quickly."
Mary Margaret's face told her she wasn't buying it. "Do you want me to come with you?" she asked hesitantly. Mary Margaret knew better than to question Emma, but she also worried about her the way a mother worried about her child.
"Finish up here," Emma told her, knowing that Mary Margaret wouldn't leave the children. Emma leaned over and kissed her friend's cheek lightly. "Dinner at your place tonight?"
Her peace offering had the desired effect. Mary Margaret beamed at the prospect of having Emma and, more importantly, Henry over. "Sounds good, I'll see you tonight then."
Emma waved goodbye and walked out the hospital doors, her body instantly tensing at the idea of what she was going to do. Mary Margaret would be horrified that she was the one who planted this idea in Emma's head, but it was the only solid lead Emma had. Demons operated in packs (the idea of cults had to come from somewhere), and if anyone could identify the bodies, it would be a demon.
To catch a killer, she'd need a monster.
OOO
Emma pulled up to the ridiculously grandiose white mansion in the center of Boston and fought the urge to roll her eyes. It was completely and totally over the bright green grass and perfectly manicured hedges were one thing, but the massive fountain in the middle of the circular driveway was a whole other ball game. Not to mention the fact that in the center of the fountain there was a marble statue of an angel. It had a neutral expression on its face and had one hand outstretched as if to bless someone. It would've been ironic on its own, but the real kicker was that it was impaled upon a massive sword.
Regina had always been as subtle as a slap in the face.
Regina Mills was the most powerful demon in all of Boston, and, arguably, the entire Cape. She was old too. No one knew exactly how old, but rumor had it she had purchased this house from Benjamin Franklin.
The rumor was whether she purchased it or he gave it to her.
Most angels wouldn't visit this place if you offered them a million dollars. Regina had a knack for wielding dark magic and had a reputation of being cold, calculating, and utterly ruthless. Emma had never paid much attention to reputations. Besides, she and Regina were on relatively neutral terms because of Henry.
Henry had been 9 when he said he desperately wanted to trick-or-treat at the big, white house in the center of town. Emma had shut him down, hard. Her son hadn't liked that very much. So, two weeks after Halloween he took a city bus to Regina's house after school and knocked on her door with a shopping bag and a sheet over his head.
Regina had been unamused.
Emma had been furious.
Still, the visit had piqued Henry's curiosity, and so he made frequent visits to Regina's when his mom looked the other way. Somewhere along the line, Henry went from being a nuisance, to something that was ignored, to company Regina really enjoyed. When Henry had found out what Emma was, he'd also learned of Regina's nature. The demon had initially been nervous Emma's son wouldn't take it well, but, if anything, it just made Henry more fascinated with the woman. So the two of them would have a meal together about once a month, and Regina and her posse left Emma alone so long as Emma "didn't get in her way". Emma had never actually visited Regina's home, and she wondered if Regina would refrain from killing her when she found out Emma's favor. She doubted it.
Emma picked up the heavy, ornate knocker (it was a snake head, would the irony ever cease?), and let it drop unceremoniously against the door. Dramatic flair had never been her forte. She doubted she would've been able to knock twice anyways, because the door flew open the moment the snake head touched it. In front of her stood a middle-aged black man who was regarding her like she was a dead possum on his doorstep.
"Sidney Glass. What do you want?"
Emma went ahead and assumed his name was Sidney Glass, because otherwise that made no sense. "Um, I'm Emma Swan-"
"I know who you are," Sidney interrupted. "I know everything. You didn't answer my question. What do you want?" He clearly was not in a chatting mood.
Emma let out a huff. "Is Regina here?"
Sidney looked her up and down slowly, and made no show to hide his obvious disdain. "And what, pray tell, would Her Majesty want with you?"
Emma let out a humorless laugh. "You call her, Your Majesty?" she asked dryly.
Sidney's eyes narrowed into beady little slits. "We're done here," he dismissed as he began to close the door.
Emma slammed her hand up against the door and shoved back, allowing a little extra magic to pulse down her arm so Sidney couldn't stop her. The man stumbled backwards as she charged forward into the house, clearly unprepared for her to fight back. "You're right," Emma replied as she took stock of the black and white tiled foyer and marble staircase. She turned back to the little demon in front of her "we're done here."
Emma followed the cold feeling down the hallway, Sidney yelling at her as she began opening doors trying to find the Queen Bee herself. She knew Sidney wouldn't hurt her; Emma had always had a powerful brand of light magic, and she could tell Sidney was all bark, no bite when it came to his own. Angels had the power of assessment. They could get a feel for how strong their enemies were before they charged into battle with them. Sidney wasn't bringing much to the table.
As Emma continued down the hallway, she could tell Regina really appreciated her black and white. The tiled floors shifted into black hardwood as she continued through the house. She could tell she was getting closer the lower the temperature dropped. Emma swallowed the bile in her throat and forced her wings to stay tucked away as she moved deeper and deeper. Finally, she reached a set of french doors, and, judging by the way Sidney's yelling grew louder, she sensed she finally found her target.
"Regina!" Emma yelled as she bursted into the room. She wasn't prepared for the two other demons in the room. Clearly, she'd walked into some sort of business meeting, because they all stood huddled around a glass desk. Naturally, the two moved to protect Regina, hissing and snarling the whole way. Emma held her hands up, both as a way of telling them she meant no trouble, but also warning them trouble was exactly what she would cause if they didn't back off. "We need to talk."
The older woman pursed her blood red lips and smoothed her hands over her immaculate black dress. "Miss Swan, what an absolute displeasure. How the hell did you get in here?" Regina asked, casting a withering look towards Sidney.
Sidney shrank under her gaze. "She wouldn't take no for an answer, she practically threw me against a wall."
Emma shot him a look and rolled her eyes. "That's an exaggeration if I've ever heard one. I just need to talk to you." Emma looked pointedly at the two demons in front of her, "Privately."
Maybe it was something in her tone of voice, but Regina nodded and waved her hands to dismiss the two demons. The gave her an "are you crazy" look, but didn't disobey. They'd never disobey. As soon as the door shut behind them Regina turned to Emma with what almost appeared to be genuine fear. "Is this about Henry?" Regina asked, voice taking on a worried tone.
"What? No," Emma replied. "Henry's fine, this is about something going on in our world. Someone, or something, is killing angels and demons," she explained.
Regina sighed dramatically and took a seat at her desk. "And this concerns me, how?" She pulled out her laptop and began clicking away at it.
Emma had figured she would be difficult, but she never imagined she would be dismissive. She quickly took out her phone and pulled up the photos she'd taken. "Perhaps you didn't hear me," Emma spat as she slammed the laptop closed, nearly taking Regina's fingers off. She shoved the phone in the Demon Queen's face, "Someone is murdering angels and demons. In brutal, vicious, painful ways like some kind of sociopath. This concerns you."
Regina gave Emma a look that suggested she could not be more bored if you made her watch paint dry, but she picked up the phone. Her eyes grew just a touch wider as she scrolled through the photos, and by the end Emma could see just a hint of worry on her face. "So what do you want me to do?" Regina asked. "Punish the person who did this?"
Emma sighed and took her phone back. "We don't know who did this," she admitted.
Regina laughed and leaned back into her chair. "Of course you don't. You and the J. Crew model couldn't catch a killer if I murdered someone right in front of you."
Emma half expected Regina to kill someone just to prove her point. Then a thought struck her. "J. Crew model? You mean my brother?" Fear sat thick in Emma's throat. Regina couldn't know about David.
As if she read her mind, Regina gave her a twisted grin. "Oh, Miss Swan, I know everything." Regina paused, seemingly for dramatic effect, before she let out a little huff. "Now if there's nothing I can do, I suggest you go, before I let one of my employees rip those pretty little wings right off."
Emma rolled her eyes at the empty threat. Regina would never hurt her so long as doing so would hurt Henry. "I didn't say there wasn't anything you could do. I need you to see if you can ID the demon for me, and maybe see if anyone in your circles can ID her as well."
If looks could kill, Emma would be dead by now. "What is it you think I do all day, Miss Swan? Sit around and wait for you to come in and recruit me to solve a case like this is True Detective?"
Emma handed her the phone back. "Just look," she sighed. This was feeling more and more like a fool's errand.
To her credit, Regina took the phone. She studied the photo for what felt like forever, and just as Emma was about to give up, Regina slammed her hand down on the table. "Shit," she breathed.
"What, what, what? Do you know who it is?"
"No," Regina began and Emma was about to ask her what the commotion was for when the older woman held up a hand to silence her. She double tapped Emma's screen and turned the phone so the angel could see it. Regina had zoomed in on the woman's wrist where a tiny, black tattoo had been inked. "Do you know what that is?" Regina asked.
Emma studied the image. "Um, a weird looking, upside down J?"
Regina looked at Emma like she was the dumbest person she'd ever encountered in her centuries of being alive. "Boston PD clearly doesn't have its finest working on this case," Regina spat. Then, "it's a hook." Regina spun in her chair so she was facing her phone and began aggressively punching numbers.
Emma studied the image for bit, she could see the hook now, but was still confused. "I don't get it," Emma admitted as she pocketed her cell.
Regina held up a perfectly manicured finger as the phone rang. Emma heard a voice on the other end of the receiver and then Regina began speaking. "Put him on the line," she hissed. Emma could tell the other person was speaking, but couldn't make out what they were saying. Angels and demons had heightened senses, which meant Regina had her phone volume ridiculously low if Emma couldn't make it out with magical hearing. Then again, being Queen Demon meant that Regina probably had a lot to hide from those in the divine community. "Listen to me you little imp," the queen spat. "If you do not put him on the phone right now, I'll show you what hell really looks like!" she screamed, and Emma flinched instinctively at the volume of her voice. "Don't you dare hang up on me, Smee!" He clearly didn't listen, because with no warning she picked up her phone and threw it against the wall with such force that it shattered.
The two demons from earlier rushed in at the noise and quickly turned on Emma as though she were the source of all the distress.
"Get out!" Regina roared and Emma had never seen two people move as quickly as those two did.
Emma was beginning to understand the reputation Regina had made for herself. She watched as the demon pressed two fingers on her temples and attempted to calm down. Emma took the quiet moment to get her own instincts under control. She was digging her nails in her palm in an attempt to keep herself grounded and out of an ethereal state. When she was around demons, or when a situation got out of hand, she often couldn't control what her body did. She prayed this wasn't one of those times.
Luckily, Regina seemed to get it together. "I'm calm, I'm calm," she muttered to herself as she grabbed a piece of paper and a pen from her desk and began to write something down.
"Do you know who the demon is?" Emma asked.
Regina folded her paper and looked up. "No," she replied. She pushed a button on a small intercom on her desk and Emma heard Sidney ask what she needed. "Send in Will Scarlet," Regina demanded and removed her finger before Sidney could reply.
"What was all that then?" Emma asked as Regina yanked open her laptop and began typing furiously on it.
She didn't look up. "I know someone who does; the man who was her keeper. You're going to New York," Regina said as she closed her laptop.
Emma leaned over her desk and got up in Regina's face. She'd reached her limit. "Regina, I can't go to New York. I have a job and a kid and I can't just… leave."
"Your job is to catch the person who did this. That now involves going to New York, and I'm sure the model and his back-to-nature angel of a girlfriend love children," Regina laughed without humor.
Emma was going to protest, tell her no way in hell could she go to New York. Not until she got a proper explanation at the very least, but she didn't get the chance because someone walked through the door.
"Ah, Will. Meet Emma Swan," Regina smiled.
Emma turned to see no one other than the wiry demon from the hospital. He gave her a wide, blinding grin when he saw her and proceeded to bow, again, in front of her. "You," Emma growled.
Will straightened up and sauntered over to her, clapping a hand on her shoulder which Emma quickly shrugged off. "Told ya we'd be seein' each other, angel. Though I must admit I didn't expect it to be so soon. Guess God is smilin' down at me, aye?"
Emma suppressed the urge to punch him in the face. "My lucky day," Emma spat, before she turned to Regina. "Absolutely not. I'm not going to New York, and I'm especially not going to New York with him."
Regina had clearly had enough of the conversation and was staring at them as though they were bickering children. "Yes, you are going to New York, and yes you are going with Will. He'll help you get in, and then the rest is up to you, Miss Swan. You were right, there's something larger at work here, and we're going to have to," Regina swallowed melodramatically as if it were difficult to say. "Work together if we want to find who's doing this. Now, this piece of paper has the hotel he's staying at," Regina offered the slip to Emma, but she kept her arms crossed over her chest and stared at the ceiling. The Queen rolled her eyes and gave the paper to Will. "I'll send you instructions. Be careful, he's dangerous, and," Regina widened her eyes like she was already exhausted, "greatly unhinged."
Emma stood there, stewing, until she decided Regina was right. She was loathe to admit it, but Regina was right. Emma threw her arms up in exasperation, "Fine, dammit! But if I have to go on a wild goose chase, can I at least get the guy's name?"
Regina gave her a wicked grin and Emma realized she had no idea how big of a storm was coming her way.
"Killian Jones."
