Heart of Stone.

The search around the cottage's perimeter revealed no anomalies or clues that could have been left behind. Her pale hand lightly touched the door handle and trailed down to the lock. Both her eyes shone a bright blue in the darkness.

'No one went in… through this door at least.' She thought.

She held the revolver in her right hand and pushed the door open with her left. She stepped in and aimed the gun at every dark corner. Nothing. Both Alastor and her alter ego separated from her and went in their own respective directions of the ground floor. Amelia went upstairs to carry out her own investigation and concluded that nothing was out of place. In regards to the silence emanating from downstairs, Amelia knew that her home had been left untouched.

'I doubt this Don of yours was serious.'

Amelia holstered the Webley when she was halfway down the steps. 'I figured he wouldn't be here himself.'

At the foot of the stairs, Alastor smiled with closed lips; concealing his extraordinarily sharp teeth. 'Surely you don't mean to leave me in suspense?'

When she joined him, it could be seen that Amelia was comically much shorter than Alastor. She craned her neck to look up at him. 'He called his wife. I suspect he will call me as well.' She went off into the direction of her small lounge room. 'Come along.'

His red eyes followed her figure, mischievous intent within them. Once Amelia disappeared from view, he went after her. The first thing he saw in the room was the tombstone radio. His ears perked up.

Amelia sat down on the chaise lounge and looked up to the armchair opposite her. She expected Alastor to take his seat but soon found that she was sorely mistaken.

'Oh dear! Never pinned you to be the gossip sort. Ha-ha!' Alastor exclaimed. The last frequency Amelia tuned in was that of the scuttlebutt radio show hosted by Roxanne and Curie.

'For the love of- sit down.' In spite of Amelia wishing to sound angry, or at the very least stern, she couldn't stop the emergence of a coy smile.

Alastor's head snapped towards her. 'Is that smile for me?' His cheery voice held a drop of surprise.

'You're horrible.' She covered her mouth and turned away.

He pressed a hand to his chest. 'How you punish me!'

This time Amelia rolled her eyes and urged the demon to sit, adding a "please" at the end of her sentence. He kindly obliged.

Alastor eased himself into the plush velvet chair and crossed his legs. His eyes fell on the rotary phone on the desk by Amelia. 'Now we play the wait game, hmm?'

'You're free to leave at any time.' The chill returned to her voice.

'Why, I would never! Especially now.'

'Whatever are you on about?'

'Aren't we old pals? A little catching up wouldn't hurt, hmm?'

Amelia's eyes glanced to the phone. She then laid a heavy stare on him.

'I can see those shamus gears turning,' he teased.

'A question for a question.' She raised a finger before Alastor could speak. 'No lies.'

'What a change of pace! Here I thought you would never-'

'How did you serve Satan?'

His toothy grin did not faze her in the slightest. 'I killed those he wanted gone.'

Amelia scowled. 'But Evelyn-'

He tutted at her. 'It's my turn. Darling, you have to play fair.' He rested his face into the palm of his hand. 'What was the verdict before they threw you in here?'

The purple velvet threatened to rip under grip. He worded his question too well. 'Twenty-two counts of torture murder, thirty-three murders, and the unnecessary derivation of joy from the harming of people, including innocents. I am paraphrasing here, but I do remember kidnapping was on the list.'

He whistled as though she told him about a grand feat.

'Those things I did are not something to be impressed by,' she snapped.

'Regret it, do you?'

Her eyes dropped to a blank space in the corner. 'I still believe in God, and he did what was right.' Her voice soft.

An eerie silence took its place in the absence of conversation. He sat uncharacteristically quiet and watched the demoness. Amelia eased up on the fabric of her seat and sat with slumped shoulders. She still couldn't look at him. Minutes went by and no one yet dared to break the silence. She inwardly hoped that Don would save her. If only her enemies could see her now, they would laugh and say how her strength was all an act.

In truth, she was ashamed. Alastor happened to be the only person in Hell who knew her before her death, meaning he was the only one to see how far she'd fallen.

'Damn you, Mr Durand,' she muttered under her breath.

'Ask me.' The static in his voice was absent.

'I don't want to.'

'You want to know why I killed Evelyn.'

'Leave it be,' her voice hard.

'Satan wanted to see if I could something that went against every ounce of my being. A test, you see?'

She pressed her lips against the fingers of her closed fist. Amelia silently shook her head.

'My darling Amelia, do you think you are the only one with regrets?'

She laughed drily. 'You're not the kind for such things.' She looked at him and froze. Alastor never looked so solemn, and such a thing could be pinned on the dead close-lipped smile.

'I did enjoy most of the killing. Their flesh went well with butter and rosemary. Really helped save a penny during the recession.' The smile finally dropped. 'Killing Evelyn, betraying you in the process, frankly, wasn't something I enjoyed.'

Amelia exhaled the breath she had been holding. She buried her face in her hands and took a second to compose herself. 'You have no clue-' she rested her chin on her now interlinked fingers. '-how relieved I am to hear that,' her voice trembled. She released a sad sigh. 'It won't fix the friendship we had but it helps knowing I wasn't completely wrong about you.'

Alastor beamed. It wasn't his typical artificial smile but a genuine one. 'Well, dear, I wouldn't mind having another crack at getting acquainted. Would you?'

Amelia blinked away the mist over her eyes and smiled weakly. 'If both of us survive this ordeal, I don't see why not.'

The mood in the loungeroom lifted and for the first time since their reunion in Hell, both were relaxed in each other's company.

The Radio Demon briefly left the loungeroom to fetch whiskey, which Amelia initially declined but after some convincing limited herself to only two fingers of the amber liquid. She still had a job to do after all.

As the hour grew late, Amelia thought about the blonde princess whom she had become fond of. She asked her companion if Charlie told him what the meeting with Lucifer was about. To this, Alastor smiled with pride.

'Heaven requested a meeting at the border. How exciting it is to see the old chap be oh-so very wrong!'

Her heart fluttered with joy. 'I am so glad to hear that.' She sighed. 'I wish I had the opportunity to congratulate her. She truly is an admirable figure.'

'Ah, she is, isn't she?' He laid back into the chair.

As their conversation went on, it soon became apparent that both had a great deal of respect and, in a way, love for the daughter of Lucifer.

Once tired of conversation, they fell into a comfortable silence. Amelia opted to go over the file containing both Stolas' list and Don's discoveries. She put herself in a scenario where Don wouldn't call after all. She would have no choice but go to The Colosseum and see if her assistant had left anything behind. Amelia recalled how all three families that Don highlighted had been forsaken by the King. That was putting it lightly.

The crackling of the radio briefly stole her attention. Alastor was turning the dials until the displayed frequency satisfied him. The sound of soft swing filled the room. Alastor eased himself into the chair with a content smile. One look at Amelia prompted another brief exchange.

'Whatever can be so amusing in those papers, hmm?'

Her eyes didn't leave the paper. 'I've no clue what you're talking about.'

He left it at that and closed his eyes.

The smirk that remained on her lips did have a reason, in spite of Amelia's act of aloofness. There was something about the radio playing "Night and Day" by Fred Astaire that gave her a sense of déjà vu. Alastor's presence only amplified that feeling. She experienced a strange warmth in her chest which she couldn't identify at first. Once she recognised what it was, the smirk fell and her cold expression returned.

Amelia did not lie to Alastor when she said that, in taking his life, she made her peace with him. Still, there was a sense of guilt and scepticism when she found herself entertained in his company. She drowned out her confusing and conflicting emotions by filling her mind with the contents of the file before her.

...

A loud noise jolted Amelia awake. The pinstripe suit jacket fell from her person as she rose up from the chaise lounge. Once the fog of sleep cleared from her mind, the nature of the noise became clear. The rotary phone was ringing. She quickly lunged and grabbed the receiver and put it to her ear.

'Hello?' Her voice rough.

The silence on the other end hung for a brief moment before a familiar sigh reached her ears. 'Boss, it's Don.'

'Where are you?'

'At a payphone. That's not why I'm callin' though. Did you look at the stuff I left with Stolas?'

'Yes. What about it?'

'About the families-' Don paused. The shifting of the receiver crackled in the speaker on her end. '-it's gonna sound crazy but they're planning something against Lucifer.'

It was one thing for Amelia to have the theory in her mind but it was another thing to hear Don say it. The blood drained from her face. 'I figured but that wouldn't explain the idol stealing.'

'They need the juice, they ain't strong enough.'

'Who are "they"?' Silence came from the other end. 'Don, let me help you. Get out of this while you still can.'

A "click" sound was made as a nickel dropped into the payphone. 'Talking like that, really reminds me of your old pal; Wenceslao.'

'I'm only looking out for you.'

'Sorry, boss. You weren't supposed to be on vacation.' Amelia could only smile before he continued. 'Ya know Casablanca? The guy who sent the letters will be there.'

She did not bother asking him how he knew that there was more than one. 'He will be expecting me, I imagine?' Amelia had almost forgotten Alastor, who had picked his suit jacket off the floor and stood opposite her. His ears perked up at the mention of an unfamiliar person.

'Yeah.'

'And where will you be?'

'I wanna find where the other half is. Just in case.'

'Don… You walked away from becoming a private eye so you could keep your family. Please think about what you're doing.'

'Already have. You gotta go soon, boss.'

'Please, Don, be careful.'

The line cut at the last syllable. The dial tone rang in her ear as Amelia had not yet put down the phone. She slowly lowered the handset. When she looked at Alastor, he beamed with excitement.

'You need to warn Charlotte, something terrible is coming to light.'

He raised a brow. 'About what exactly?'

'The three families, Lucifer wronged them and they're planning some queer revenge. Don was vague and that revenge could entail anything.'

Alastor's back straightened; he understood well. 'What about you, darling? It would be fair to tell me where you'll be running off to.'

She rose and smoothed her trousers. 'I can't.'

'What!? That is ridiculous, such tomfoolery-'

'They're definitely looking for your half of the idol. You're reckless enough to give it to them.'

He threw his head back and guffawed. 'How can you be so sure?'

'Because I know where it is.' Her eyes went from his face to his chest. From her memory, this was where Calix had intention to dig further in after gaining the upper hand on Alastor. Calix's words made little sense before she learned about the power source.

It also made sense knowing he wouldn't kill Alastor if he didn't know the location of the idol.

'You're not as strong as you used to be. Until we find the other half and restore the idol, you'll have to choose your battles.'

His shoulders bounced in sync with his deep chuckle. Alastor clasped his hands behind his back. 'Such fascinating logic! A pipsqueak with six bullets has a higher chance of survival than an overlord.'

She crossed her arms. 'At the very least my death won't give them what they want.' Amelia looked back to the phone by the chaise lounge. 'We've wasted enough time. Come, we will part ways near Lorgar's temple.'

In a flash, Alastor became a formless black shape that readily pooled to the floorboards and became one with her shadow. Before leaving the loungeroom, Amelia's eyes lingered on the tombstone radio. A dark question went through her mind and she immediately stamped out the possibility it suggested. She left her home without sparing another glance.

In legend, it was Lorgar who convinced Satan to speak with humans, which in turn would lead to their corruption. Some Sinners and Hell-borns believe in this and choose to worship the demon prince instead.

Amelia stopped in the alley that had the front of the temple opposite them. Wordlessly, Alastor appeared into the physical world with a characteristic grin on his face. He breathed in the sour air and exhaled in delight.

'When you see Charlotte, tell her about the families and their connection to Lucifer.' She tipped her chin to the file under his arm. 'If I'm wiped from the picture, you'll at least have a good starting point.'

'Now that wouldn't be a possibility if you'd tell me-'

'I am not going to repeat myself,' she said curtly. 'This is how it's going to be: you'll warn Charlotte and stay with her. I trust you to take care of her and ensure she stays safe. As for me, I will be meeting with the sender and try to see if I can recover the lost half of the artefact. And for what I mentioned before, Stolas is willing to help if you ask nicely enough. I must also stress that the hiding spot of your half of the artefact stays between us.'

The flurry of instructions did not faze Alastor in the slightest as he listened with a content smile and closed eyes.

'Is this clear?'

His eyes flashed open and he looked down at her. 'Very.' He bent down to look straight into her eyes. 'Cheer up, darling. There are so many things to look forward to once this pest is destroyed.'

'Like what?'

His half-smile held an amorous promise. 'I can think of a few,' he purred.

She felt the heat rise in her cheeks. Amelia took a step back and broke eye contact. 'You go on ahead, I want to make sure you won't trail me.'

'How smart you are!' Then Alastor cheerfully said his farewell and went off into the direction of the hotel. Amelia, on the other hand, remained in the alley for a few minutes and observed her surroundings. Once she felt that it was time, she started towards the direction of Casablanca. Amelia crossed the road and walked past the Temple of Lorgar. She could hear the muffled voice of the priest preaching about Chaos.

She no longer heard the preacher as she continued towards the gambling den.

...

The bright lights of the casino were still blinding even through the cigarette smoke. No clocks on the wall, no windows, and a load of noise, one would think a place of torture by that description.

Amelia heard the familiar sound of slot machines and noticed the occupied poker and roulette tables. Valentino had become the owner of many boastful busniness, this casino was no exeption.

Her shoes sunk into the carpeted floors as she took in the view of the floorplan, then she searched for the distinct dome security cameras installed. Another thing that failed to escape her notice was the "discreet" stares from a number of patrons. To those that have heard of her by word of mouth, her appearance was not good news.

A voluptuous lamp demon approached her with a tray of drinks. She offered her a drink in a sultry voice. Amelia politely declined. The private eye continued to another room where she noticed a stage. The band members drank whiskey and chuckled among themselves. She deduced that they were having a break.

Her intuition told her to wait. Amelia went to the bar and ordered a club soda. She sipped on the drink and waited.

Minutes later the band returned to the stage and started playing a fast-paced jazz tune. Amelia watched with interest. The private eye never liked gambling, so she didn't quite comprehend how the people at the table games understood their dealer.

Amelia felt something hard press to her left flank. 'Please tell me that's gun.'

'Get up, and don't walk unless I tell ya.' The demon's voice displayed the consequences of habitual chain smoking.

She obeyed his command and glanced at him. The demon was stocky in build and his face was bald and wrinkled. He jabbed her with the gun under his over coat. 'Turn around and go straight.'

Again, she played the marionette to the puppet master. The series of lefts and rights brought the two of them to a special extension of the casino; the gentleman's club. He prodded her forward into the dark space drowned out by obnoxious pop music.

The demons and demonesses were dressed in thin strips of fabric that covered little. It was as though their stylists were dentists who only had dental floss on hand. They walked through a grand showroom where the performers stripped and danced on stage. Compared to the band in the casino, this stage performance had a much larger and enthusiastic crowd.

Amelia had little time to appreciate the show as she was prodded quickly into a room with a sign above it that said "Diamond Lounge". The security guard nodded to her companion and didn't stop them from entering. She passed a number of doors before she noticed two demons standing guard at the front of a specific door.

At the sight of her, one of the demons went into the private room. The demon with the gun at her back told her to stop once they arrived at the door. The remaining demon stayed silent but his sneer said enough.

From the room, a group of demonesses emerged and went into the direction of the exit. The first demon returned shortly after. 'Check her for weapons.'

The gun was still at her back as the sneering demon patted her down. Her beloved Webley was once again removed from her.

After receiving the order to enter, she did. The room bathed in a dark blue light. It had a smaller stage with a single pole intended for dancing. Opposite this pole was a large and long black leather sofa.

On this sofa sat the television demon, Vox. He waved his goons away. The latter exchanged wary glances.

'I'll be sure to yell if I need anything,' he drawled. They nodded and left at last.

The pixelated screen displayed a sly smirk. 'Have you received my letter, Amelia?'

She crossed her arms and stood before him. 'I have.'

He let out a polite chuckle. 'And you ignored my warning?'

'In your letters, you used dissociative language. It gave me the impression you didn't care much about your "accomplices". So do tell me, why am I here?'

'If you thought I would be sympathetic to your cause, well, I am sorry to disappoint you. Those letters were a bit of a blunder on my end.'

'How so?'

'You'll have to sit down for this one.' He gestured to ottoman. Amelia eyed the piece of furniture with suspicion before sitting down. He continued. 'You see, those Greek demons and I formed a collaboration to achieve a common goal. Though, I never thought they would resort to such unorthodox methods.'

She raised a brow. 'This land is full of sin, but you drew the line at stealing from your enemy?'

'Ah, so you knew about my little rivalry with Alastor? No matter. They went against the core morals and goals of our little union and it didn't appease me.'

'You warned him?' Amelia pretended to not have seen the letter. She could not allow the events of the past few days to come to light.

He nodded. 'Imagine my surprise when a detective gets involved. They were able to figure it out by taking the griffin's body and looking at the bullets. Only one demoness in the area was known to smelt angel blades to make bullets for her gun. Quite creative, I admit. Too costly for my tastes.'

'You didn't warn me of my expenditures in that letter.'

He waved his hand at her. There was something about his grey ironed suit adorned with a massive red bow tie that told her he never took fashion advice. The miniature hat on top of his tv screen for a head provided further proof to her claim. 'After having to step in to save Alastor, you of all people should know that he is done for. I felt a little bad because you got dragged into this so it was a courtesy to warn you as well.'

'I recall it being more of a threat on the behalf of your colleagues.'

'Very true. And that is why we are here today. You must be worried sick for your pet bull, hmm?'

She almost jumped out of her seat then but reminded herself to remain calm. 'You must be talking about Don.'

His smile sported shark-like teeth. Compared to the smile of the Radio Demon, this one was far less intimidating and had no effect on Amelia.

'Are you not dying to know where he is?'

'I am not playing your games, Vox. What do you want?'

'What I want, has been fulfilled either way. It comes down to what you will tell me.' He crossed his legs. 'Where is Alastor keeping his half of the artefact?'

'Why would I know that?'

He rolled his disproportionate eyes. 'Your sweet bull told us that you had a "working theory". If only you were kind enough to tell him, we wouldn't be in this situation.'

'Don would never tell you anything. That demon is immune to torture.'

'Exactly, that is why he kindly answered all our questions.' He leaned forward and pressed a button under the low table. 'Even told us a little bit about you and your love for a stiff drink.'

The moment she heard the door open, she jumped to her feet. Amelia grabbed the bottle of beer and smashed the bottom off the edge of the table. This produced a weapon with an elongated and wide shard of glass bound to the bottle neck. She didn't have the size advantage to use Vox as a hostage, so she had to rely on other talents.

The familiar three demons walked in, along with a new addition. Her grip on the neck of the bottle tightened. 'This isn't my first bar brawl; in case you've neglected to tell them.'

'Don't make this harder than it needs to be,' Don said.

She pressed her lips together, the corners of her mouth hanging low. 'You know I can't do that.' She shook her head. 'I understand, you want to protect your family.' Amelia took in a deep breath. Her eyes darted from the demon to demon, taking note of their batons and demented expressions. 'What are you waiting for? I'm outnumbered.'

The four of them slowly approached her, their eyes on her impromptu weapon. Amelia knew she would not be able to win in a 4-on-1 fight, but she would never roll-over and give up. No matter the circumstances.

The wrinkly demon abruptly lunged at her with his baton, Amelia barely moved away in time before jamming the glass into his carotid artery. The other three demons saw this as an opportunity to grab her. Amelia used all her strength to push the demon in their direction before taking off towards the open door.

The other demons quickly got their bleeding comrade off of them before running after her.

Amelia panted and felt the air in her throat and lungs burn as she ran. She pushed through crowds of demons and demonesses in the club as she searched for a way to lose her pursuers. The adrenaline that rushed through her burning blood made her heart beat wildly against her sternum. If only she had her Webley, the mess would have been sorted seconds ago.

After exiting the club, Amelia rushed towards the doors that had "staff only" on them. She rammed through the doors with her shoulder and immediately recognised the place to be a kitchen. As soon as she started running, she heard the sound of the doors slamming open. She pushed past a few chefs and servers that were unlucky enough to be in her path. One waitress yelped in pain for she was pushed against the corner of a metal table.

When Amelia passed a stove filled with boiling soup, she did the only logical thing she could think of. She sacrificed a few seconds to stop and tip the pot over before running off to another set of doors.

The first demon of the three was too focused on Amelia that he was confused as to why he fell over backwards. His fall hindered the sprint of his comrades. Unlike the wrinkled demon, they grabbed his arms and helped him up. By this point, a thud and high-pitched scream were heard behind the doors Amelia just went through.

They rushed past the doors and saw a small maid clutching her belly. Her cart lay turned over on the floor as she stared down the hallway that led to the gardens behind the casino. The demons asked no question as they ran past her and further down the hall.

Once the demons were gone, the maid finally got up on shaky legs and pulled her cart up. She slowly picked up the blankets that spilled over. The kitchen staff asked her about what happened but she only cussed angrily in response as she pushed her cart over to the laundry room. Her other hand was still on her abdomen. After leaving her cart, she went outside through the staff door and put a cigarette to her lips.

She patted her uniform for a lighter and found none. She groaned and slipped the cigarette back into the box. The thick hot fumes coming from the kitchen vents proved too much for the maid. She strolled further to the edge of the complex and took a deep breath of fresh air. Before she could turn the corner, a hulking figure appeared before her.

Her small pig face trailed up to the face of the shirtless demon. The defined muscles in his torso and arms boasted of tremendous strength. He had only one eye in the middle of his face and his cracked lips bulged from large misshapen teeth.

The maid swallowed and stepped back; she made a move to pass him but he grabbed her by the throat. She choked and weakly clawed at his thick arm. 'Let me go!' she squealed with what breath she had.

With a tight grip on her neck, he lifted her and slammed her against the wall. Like a glitch, her disguise flashed before disappearing entirely. 'Do you think spirit tricks fool me?' His breath wafted over Amelia's face. Amelia tried to speak but only let out strangled gurgles. He eased his grip. 'What?'

'Brontes Kefalas, I presume?' she choked.

His grin revealed horrendous orange teeth. 'How I'd love to get you back for Calix.' He stressed his point by increasing the pressure in his grip. Then he reduced it slightly. He cackled. 'Don't get too excited, bitch. That part comes after.'

What "after" meant would forever be lost to history. Amelia had every intention of asking him but the cyclops was too hasty with squeezing her throat to the point that inadequate blood reached her brain. There were faster methods of incapacitating her but Brontes clearly wanted her to suffer. Specks of black flickered in her vision and Amelia thought her face was going to pop.

Eventually, Amelia's clawing and kicking stopped and her limbs fell limp. The sweet relief of darkness finally came.
...

A/N:I would like to thank everyone for their patience and for sticking around for this story with its wacky upload schedule. My mid-terms are finally done and I had time to write. Please let me know what you think of the story and its progress. I'm a bit unsure on how to tie things off at the end and I think getting some feedback would help.

Whatever the case, thank you for reading this chapter and I hope all is well! :)