Marian woke up and immediately realized that her head was too hot. Her hair was soaked with sweat; even her ear was sweating into the pillow. And that's because her pillow was…Oh fuck.
She sat up quickly, narrowly avoiding Crowley's elbow in her rush to get her head off his thigh. He rolled up a scroll he'd been reading and tossed it to the foot of the bed, turning his attention to her. She felt the world start to tilt, and braced her arm under her side. Crowley stacked a couple of pillows behind her and motioned for her to lie down. He handed her a bottle of water.
"Drink. You're lucky you didn't bleed out yesterday."
Marian hunched her shoulders, sulking like a teenager. "I knew what I was doing," she grumbled into the water bottle.
"You didn't even know you were doing it," Crowley replied, though he didn't sound angry. "I got you some spray paint," he said, nodding to a few cans on her dresser, "So no more cutting, alright? You need blood, I'll get you blood, but you aren't using your own."
She stared down at her own hands. "Okay." Then, a little less sullen: "Thank you for the paint."
Crowley got up, collecting a pile of paperwork. "I shouldn't be gone for long today, just have to tie up a few loose ends." He waved a hand toward the TV, turning it on, and it brought up a live security camera feed. "One of which includes our little friend there. You're welcome to watch, or not, but I wanted you to have the option. If you lose the channel, just press '6' to pull it back up."
Marian leaned forward so she could get a better look: It was a little cell, and there was a man in the center, hung from the ceiling by his wrists. It looked like his head and arms had some sort of chemical burn, which was gradually spreading to the rest of his body. Every few seconds, he would flinch and hiss.
"What's…Is water dripping on him?"
"Holy water."
"…Ah."
"I do have one favor to ask," Crowley said, producing a large syringe. Marian eyed it nervously. "I realize you're running a bit low, but I just need a little blood. I'm conducting an experiment."
She held her arm out for him. It would be a difficult draw, but the demon had more experience than a phlebotomist. He worked quickly, and Marian hardly felt a thing.
"See you later, angel." Crowley vanished.
Marian sat back, sipping on her water, and kept her eyes on the screen. She didn't really want to watch Crowley torture someone to death, but then again, she did want to watch Lester suffer.
Except she really didn't want to look at him at all.
Nothing happened for a few minutes, and she filled the time by imagining how he would kill him. If he'd wanted to just gut him with an angel blade, he would have done that when he'd first caught him: Crowley wanted the demon to suffer. Hell, he'd been dripping holy water on him for more than a day—that was…Not a bad idea, really. So how would he actually kill him? Douse him in holy oil and set him on fire? Drown him in a bucket of holy water? A movement in the corner of the screen caught her attention, and she scooted toward the foot of the bed.
Crowley unlocked the cell door and stepped inside. He was wearing a raincoat, rubber gloves, and a blood-stained apron over his suit: he looked like a mad scientist about to raise a monster.
"Crowley," Lester hissed, wincing as another drop of water struck the top of his head. "Come to finish me off? Lillith's not going to be happy with you, you know—"
"Let me worry about Lillith," Crowley replied smoothly, stepping over to a series of valves in the wall. "You worry about yourself."
Lester licked his lip nervously and leered back at his captor. "Did you bring your girlfriend? I was hoping I'd get to say a proper goodbye, at least."
Crowley ignored him and pretended to be interested in the ceiling. "Bit of a leak in here, have you noticed? One of these knobs ought to stop that." He fiddled with a couple of the valves, and suddenly the water line opened up, dumping gallons of holy water over Lester. The demon screamed like the damned soul he was and writhed in his shackles. Crowley twisted the valve the other way, shutting it off. "Oops."
It looked like he'd been dipped in acid. Lester's skin bubbled and peeled; part of his nose was missing, and chunks of his arms were just red, bloody messes. Blood seeped through his clothing; it was worse under his shirt and pants, because the wet fabric clung to his skin. He stopped screaming at last, but his body continued to shake; his black eyes flickered red as the holy water ate at his very essence.
"Must be uncomfortable in those wet clothes," Crowley tutted, circling him slowly. He snapped his fingers and Lester's clothing vanished.
Lester's teeth chattered. Blood bubbled up from his throat as he spoke. "Really, Crowley? You're just going to fuck me? An eye for an eye, is that it—I fuck your angel, so you fuck me? Not very original, but then, you are just a salesman." He swung his head around, trying to keep Crowley in his sight. The demon was holding something behind his back, and it made him nervous that he couldn't see what it was. Probably just some spiked dildo to shove up his ass—again, so unoriginal—but he didn't like that he wasn't showing him. "I did you a favor, really," he continued, then paused to spit blood onto the floor. Whatever Crowley was planning, it wouldn't be enough to break him. The salesman had no creativity. It was just sad, really.
"She was so tight, but I stretched her out real good for you," Lester sneered, determined to piss off his rival. "You can douse me in all the holy water you want, but that doesn't change the fact that I was balls-deep in your precious little angel's pussy. I was so far inside her, I might as well have been possessing her."
Crowley's eyes flickered red for a moment, and he nearly abandoned his plan in favor of beating the shit out of Lester the old-fashioned way; but the chief of torturing was a glutton for that sort of pain, and it only would have given him what he wanted. He squared his shoulders, looking calm once again. He stepped forward and drove a syringe deep into his neck in one fluid movement, injecting a healthy dose of Marian's blood into the demon.
"Aargh!" Lester hissed. "The Hell was that?!"
"Do you know why demons are so hard to torture?" Crowley asked conversationally, circling around to Lester's front. "Physical pain means nothing to us. It's how we were created. If you want to torture a demon, you've got to make him feel."
Lester started to twitch. "What did you do? What was that?"
"A priest in the 40's, working with the Men of Letters, tried to 'cure' demons using human blood. He was…Successful, more or less. It wasn't just blood, of course: He was working on sacred ground, and the blood was purified, blah, blah, blah. I haven't got that, but I have got a fallen angel with Grace in her veins. What could be purer than that?"
The demon ground his teeth together. He began to foam at the mouth like a rabid dog.
"Now, I could be absolutely wrong about this. But I thought, why not try it out? Just being near her makes me a bloody wreck. It would make sense that her blood's even stronger, wouldn't it?"
Lester started to cry. First there were a few tears, then a little sob, and before long he was bawling his eyes out, snot running down his nose, straining against his bonds as he howled in agony.
"I'm sorry, Momma! I'm so sorry! Please forgive me, Momma!" He blubbered on and on, switching from incoherent babbles and wails to heartfelt pleas to his family, friends, and even God. Lester had a lot of repenting to do. "I killed the children! They were screaming, and I loved it—oh God, forgive me!"
Crowley was having a hard time following Lester's train of thought, which seemed to have derailed almost immediately. His plan had worked better than he'd hoped. He let him ramble on for a bit longer, letting the wailing and screaming and pleading get louder and louder, until all of Hell would be sure to hear about it. Lester listed off a litany of crimes, from small, petty tricks to feeding a woman her own dead husband, or wiping out an entire convent.
"God, forgive me!" he cried, over and over again.
Crowley leaned in close to him, his lips almost against his ear: "Spoiler: He doesn't."
And he stabbed him with his angel blade. Lester sparked out, dead.
Killing Lester had helped lighten his mood, but Crowley was still pissed off that someone had dared to hurt his angel. Unable to bring Lester back from the dead to kill him again, he settled for the next best thing: Killing humans.
Demons didn't just run around killing people all the time. It was bad for business, and tended to draw the attention of hunters, or even angels. But sometimes, torturing damned souls just wasn't enough, and some poor schmuck had to pay the price. It was best to make it look like an accident.
What Crowley did…Well, it didn't look like an accident. What it looked like was two rival biker gangs that got into a skirmish and fought till every last man and woman was dead. The crime scene examiners had to conclude that one man had been disemboweled with a pool cue, and another had his head run over by the big 3-wheeler bike used by the rival gang's oldest member. Someone had been fed his own entrails. As far as gang violence went in a small mid-west town, it was pretty sadistic. It just goes to show how dangerous these biker gangs could be. Next season, the neighboring towns would vote to outlaw motorcycles from their city limits.
By the time Crowley returned home that evening, he was feeling a lot better. Marian was feeling more like herself, as well. She could walk across a room without feeling like she had to lie down, which was good considering that the amount of fluids she was drinking had her running to the bathroom every hour. But she seemed to have reached some sort of equilibrium. She'd even found an old sheath that fit her angel blade so that she could carry it around without slicing her leg open, and having that little bit of power was helping to lift her spirits.
That said, she was still anxious and exhausted, and had fallen asleep waiting for the demon. She jolted awake when she felt his presence next to her and instinctively reached for her blade, but stopped short of pulling it out when she realized it was him.
"Ready for your next adventure?"
Marian yawned. "I…Yeah, alright. Isn't it late, though?"
Crowley grinned. "It's early in Japan."
She sat up straighter. "Japan?" New Zealand had always been her number one dream spot, but Japan was nice, too. David's mother was Japanese and he was always getting 'care packages' from his parents filled with noodles and snacks they couldn't buy in America, and he watched the trippiest anime shows that made hunting look like a perfectly normal career.
"I'm guessing you don't know the language."
No, the shows are always dubbed or subbed, she thought. She shook her head.
Crowley touched her forehead and she felt the familiar unpleasant tingle of demonic energy. And now she knew Japanese.
He let her change and pack a bag, and then they were off.
Marian found herself outside a café on a long, busy street. No one seemed to notice two people suddenly appearing out of nowhere. She looked up at the sign and was able to read the Japanese kanji: "Meow Meow Cat Café and Cuddle Room."
"A cat café?"
Crowley opened the door for her. "Not your usual hunter's dive bar, I know. But I thought, given your history, you might enjoy it."
Her history? Had he studied every second of her life? Before she'd almost drowned in the ocean and remembered that she had been an angel, and her life had become focused on hunting, she'd had a different passion: Animals. She'd always had pets—mice, hamsters, cats, dogs, rabbits—and she'd been volunteering at her local animal shelter (with parental supervision) since she was ten years old. She'd talked about becoming a vet or an animal trainer; she'd wanted to train search and rescue dogs, or movie dogs, or work with seals and dolphins at marine rehabilitation facilities. She trained a cat to jump through a hoop, and a rabbit to fetch a ball. Any money she got as birthday and Christmas presents went toward riding lessons. She absolutely loved anything cute and furry (or less furry, in the case of the dolphins, but just as cute). Once she'd realized she was a fallen angel, though, all of that had more or less gone out the window. She'd still cared for her animals while she lived at home, but once she was on her own she knew she didn't have the time or energy to devote to anything else that breathed, so she'd left all that behind her.
And now she was stepping through a little partition, and there were kittens everywhere, and they were Japanese kittens, which were extra cute with their big, round eyes and fuzzy little faces. She sat down on a cushion on the floor and one crawled right into her lap, and Crowley sat down at a table a few feet away, watching her. There were only a few other people this early in the day, and they looked like tourists from other countries. A couple of women were speaking French, and there was a family speaking accented English that, if she had to guess, came from the Philippines.
The café workers brought tea for her and toys and treats for the kittens. Crowley was acting very human, which was vaguely unsettling, asking her questions about her childhood pets. He was trying to ignore the cats, but the cats were not ignoring him: Several tried to jump onto his lap, or tried to attack his shoelaces, and some simply stared at him.
"They like you," Marian said, giggling as another kitten attacked his shoe.
Crowley picked up a little black cat that had crawled onto his lap and set it back on the floor. "Cats are very perceptive," he replied. "They're one of the only living creatures that can see ghosts and demons." His tone was casual, in case any of the café's other occupants spoke English as well, but the implication was clear: The kittens knew he was a demon.
Marian cocked her head to the side. "They don't seem bothered by it. I think they like that you're so warm."
The black cat crawled back onto his lap and took an interest in his tie. Crowley carefully removed it before it could do any damage. "Yes. Fantastic."
The next stop on their trip was the Izu Shaboten Zoo, which wasn't like the zoos Marian was used to. There were beautiful botanical gardens and hot springs, and she was allowed to feed and pet many of the animals, including a capybara. She was so mesmerized by everything, she kept forgetting that she was running around with a demon. Occasionally she would glance at him, expecting him to be bored or impatient with her, but he would just smile and motion for her to carry on. There was a dark building where nocturnal animals like bats and a few small primates were kept: Marian was having trouble seeing anything, so Crowley gave her (temporary) night-vision so that she could get a better look.
Lunch was at Tokyo's premier penguin café. The penguins, unlike the kittens, were not huge fans of Crowley, though one did try to steal his watch (they were warned that the birds liked shiny things). The café had a giant aquarium that the penguins could swim around in, or they could waddle around and mingle with customers. There were multiple species, some from South Africa and some from New Zealand (the little blue penguins again). Another tourist asked about Emperor penguins, and they were informed that importing giant Antarctic penguins was not a good business plan for the relatively small business. The whole place smelled like fish, which added to the penguin-ness of it all. Marian could have spent all day there.
They had one more destination, however, and Crowley was convinced that it would be her favorite. He ported them to an island just off the coast of Hiroshima, appearing on a small beach. There were a few people sunbathing, and there were a couple of little pop-up shelters with children running around them. Marian could see a large building farther up the shore—a hotel, possibly?-and what looked like abandoned factories in the distance.
Then she saw the rabbits.
There were a handful of them sitting on some large rocks not far from the tourists. And there were more in the grass above the sand. A boy was tossing them little food pellets.
"Welcome to Rabbit Island," Crowley said. "Where the rabbits are wild but friendly, and there are no natural predators so they multiply like—well, like rabbits."
Marian made a little squealing sound in the back of her throat. "This. Is. Awesome."
Crowley smiled. "Come on; I'll get us checked in to the hotel and we'll find you some rabbits to be friends with."
"We're staying here?" she gasped, hurrying after him.
"They're more active at dawn and dusk, so staying on-site gives you a better chance at seeing them. I've heard the restaurant's good, too."
Marian was floating on air for the rest of the day. Either Crowley had a knack for locating small, defenseless creatures or he was cheating; but he was awesome at finding rabbits. He even found a litter of baby bunnies, still hanging around their mom, and Marian was able to cuddle with all of them. Again, he steered the conversation toward her childhood pets, as if she were the most interesting person on the island.
"He was a Netherland Dwarf," Marian said while she petted three gray rabbits. "Thorin Oakenshield."
Crowley sniffed. "So you were always a huge nerd, then."
"Yes," she snapped, glaring back at him. "And his bro—well, his friend was just a…Whatever kind of rabbit these guys are, I guess. "Bilbo—" She hesitated, blushing. "Bilbo Bunnins."
The demon laughed. "I love it. Tell me you sent them on quests, at least."
"Well…They sort of sent themselves on quests. Thorin liked to steal the cat's toys and hide them under the dresser."
"Did the cat never attack him?"
"Oh, she tried once. He grunted at her and kicked her in the face, and she left him alone after that."
She laughed as a rabbit crept up beside the demon and started chewing on his shoelace.
"Hey!" he snapped.
"I've got it, hold on," Marian said, luring the precocious bunny away with a piece of dried parsley. "Here—you can eat my shoelaces, they're a lot cheaper than his."
"You really think I'd smite a rabbit in front of you for chewing on my shoe?"
"No, you'd wait until I had my back turned."
"I would never," he said with a grin. "Now, if it were a human, absolutely, but not one of your precious little rabbits."
"Oh. That's alright then, I guess."
Dinner was a lot of food that Marian didn't get to eat in America. She never would have trusted a seafood buffet back home, but this was obviously fresh and well-maintained. There was sushi and grilled octopus and other things that Crowley had to explain to her a couple of times before she understood what they were. It was certainly cuisine that hunters couldn't afford (at least not in the mid-west, where most of them were based), and she doubted even David, with his Japanese heritage, had seen everything here.
Crowley was still in a good mood, telling Marian about the history of the island while they ate. It had been a manufacturing site for chemical weapons that had since been banned by the Geneva Convention. They had tested their products on rabbits, so there had always been rabbits on Rabbit Island, just…Much less happy ones.
"It's rare to have non-human vengeful spirits, because animals just don't…Think like that," he said, "But there are definitely some vengeful rabbit spirits on this island."
Marian paused with her chopsticks halfway to her mouth. "What?"
"They aren't attacking anyone right now; they have little to no interest in tourists. But I imagine that if any of the original workers, or their descendants, were to return to the island, they might…Take offense."
Marian leaned closer, eyes wide. "You can see them?"
"Oh, yes. Not everywhere, mind you; there's only a handful. I was thinking about taking them back to Hell with me; they might enjoy a change in scenery, and there would be lots of souls for them to attack." He shrugged. "I probably have the people who killed them down in the dungeons anyway; creating weapons of mass destruction rarely gets you a free pass to Heaven."
"I'd help with that."
Crowley chuckled. "I'm sure you would, but they're not going to respond to a human or an angel. I'll let you know how it goes, though."
Marian felt remarkably relaxed. She had her angel blade, and Crowley would be able to spot any demons before they became a problem—not that there were many demons in Japan. Thanks to Eastern spirituality, they mostly stuck to Western cultures, where people were more open to believing in Heaven and Hell. People also tended to be greedier in the West, which was always a bonus when trying to buy souls. The point was, she didn't feel that she was in any immediate danger, and Crowley was…Not so bad, really. It was odd, seeing him act so human: Historically, if a demon was being friendly it was a good idea to sprint in the opposite direction if you couldn't outright kill it. But he seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself, or at least that was the vibe he was giving off. After watching him pet kittens and baby bunnies, it was hard to imagine that this was the same demon who had just hours ago used Holy Water Torture and human blood to destroy his enemy.
As she exited the restaurant, she caught a bit of conversation from two women heading toward the buffet:
"It's safe because it's fresh, right?" a very pregnant woman asked her friend.
"No. Nothing raw, remember? It's not about freshness, it's about…Mercury, or whatever. No sushi for you until you have that baby."
And just that innocent little snippet reminded her why she was with a demon in the first place. You're just an incubator for the Abomination. You're here for him to have sex with you and knock you up so he can help Lucifer destroy the world. Her good mood dissolved, and her anxiety took over. She withdrew into herself, drawing shallow, panicky breaths.
"Something wrong, love?" Crowley asked, placing a hand on her back.
She shook her head. Her eyes burned; she could feel tears threatening to spill over, which only made her panic more. She didn't want to freak out in this lovely hotel in front of all these people.
Crowley steered her outside; the sun was setting and the air was much cooler, with a nice ocean breeze. It was grounding, but not grounding enough. He sat her down on a secluded bench, out of sight of the wandering visitors, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
Marian hid her face in his shoulder and cried. Would she ever stop breaking down in front of him? It was frustrating, and embarrassing, and made her feel even weaker; then again, she had no power whatsoever in this relationship, so it shouldn't even be possible to feel weaker than she already was.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled into his suit. "I just—I can't stop freaking out."
"You're just overtired. Happens to humans all the time; nothing wrong with that. We should probably call it a night."
Her skin tingled and there was a slight shift in reality, and the surface under her changed from hard wooden slats to a plush mattress. She lifted her head up to take in her new surroundings: It was a small hotel room, similar to American ones except everything was just a little lower to the ground. And the doors all slid sideways.
Marian's bag was sitting on the dresser next to the TV. Once she'd managed to calm down enough that she was breathing normally, she changed and did all the little things humans do to get ready for bed. But all the while, in the back of her head there was a little voice repeating "he's just going to fuck you and knock you up." It was not a helpful little voice.
Crowley had found a bizarre Japanese game show on TV and was still trying to figure out the rules, if there were any, when Marian stumbled into bed. He motioned for her to sit with him; she put her head on his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around her.
"Want to talk about it?"
She shook her head.
Crowley brought his other hand forward, holding something gray and fluffy. "I thought you could use a friend."
The little rabbit looked up at Marian and wiggled his tiny nose. Marian gasped and nearly choked herself. "How did you…Isn't it against the rules to bring one inside?" She reached out to pet it, practically squealing.
"Rules are for humans, darling. He's the friendliest one I could find on short notice; I don't think he'll mind one night inside."
She almost burst into tears again: How could he be so kind? It wasn't fair. He was the enemy. He was a demon. He shouldn't even know how to do nice things for other people. He's just going to fuck you and knock you up. She shook her head. Just like Lester. Except he's going to make you feel safe first, so you'll feel betrayed when he finally does hurt you…
"It's alright, angel. You're safe," Crowley said softly, his hand rubbing little circles up and down her back.
Oh. So she was crying again, then. Don't say that I'm safe, how dare you say I'm safe here with you. The little rabbit stretched up on its hind legs and started licking the salt tracks from her tears. Its tongue was so tiny, and it tickled. Damn, it was hard to stay panicked with a rabbit on her lap. And because Crowley wasn't just the source of most of her anxiety, but also the only source of comfort she had available, she snuggled closer to him. He was so warm, and his hand really did feel good on her back (how did he know how to be gentle, anyway? He tortured people. Maybe it was like being a dentist—sometimes you had to be delicate and precise in order to hurt people).
An odd noise on the TV caught her attention, and she let her focus drift to the insanity of Japanese game shows. Contestants were playing a game in which one was hoisted up on a giant claw machine, and their partner had to maneuver the claw so that they could grab a gold ball out of a ball pit. It was distracting enough to calm her brain down to the point where she was no longer freaking out about being raped by demons, though the thoughts still hung in the back of her mind.
The winning team won…Bragging rights, apparently, and the losing team was dropped into a slimy green pool. Marian couldn't imagine Americans humiliating themselves on TV for anything less than $5000, but these people seemed ecstatic just to make fools of themselves and have a good time. She knew that Japanese culture was much stricter than in the US, in the sense that people were expected to behave a certain way and not act out; the game shows were an opportunity for individuals to show their individuality—to dress differently, shout like a crazy person, and really let loose.
The next show was called Takeshi's Castle, and it had actors and a basic storyline but also competitors who were working to storm the castle. Many contestants wore costumes or had group themes: There were baseball jerseys, boys dressed like female cheerleaders, and even dinosaur costumes. Two scrawny men were dressed as sumo wrestlers. Some of the challenges were fairly simple, like grabbing a donut off a string; others were more challenging, like hopping from rock to rock across a stream, only some of the 'rocks' were floating platforms that would sink when stepped on. There were a lot of nasty face-plants.
Her rabbit decided it needed a break from cuddling, so Crowley gave it a little box of hay and vegetables it could nibble on. It inspected the box carefully, then started sprinting around the room, jumping on and off the bed and hopping in little circles.
"I think your rabbit's broken," Crowley said.
Marian smiled. "Those little hops are called 'binkies.' It means he's happy."
"Ah. Does it stop, I hope?"
It did stop soon after, settling down inside the box and munching away happily. Crowley motioned for Marian to lie down, and he took up his usual position behind her. She was still tense, so he gently tilted her toward the mattress and continued to rub her back. In this position, he could do more of an actual massage, kneading out all the little stress knots that had built up.
Seriously, why was he so good at this? Massage was not part of Torturing 101, and Marian very much doubted it was a part of buying souls. No, Torture 101 was more along the lines of raping people and breaking their bones. She tensed at the thought, that stupid bit of reality that kept invading her otherwise peaceful day, and sighed heavily in frustration. Focusing on the truth, on what had happened and what would happen, wasn't helping her. But she couldn't just pretend like it hadn't happened, like Lester hadn't snapped her arms and legs like toothpicks and slammed his dick into her; and she couldn't pretend like Crowley wouldn't do the same thing eventually. Sure, he'd said she was going to beg him for it, but she really didn't see that happening. He had an incredible amount of patience for a demon, but it would wear away at some point. He was a demon; he would snap, and he would hurt her. What she should do, it seemed, was act like she wanted to sleep with him, because as undesirable as that was at least she might be able to avoid the side of torture that accompanied unwanted sex. All she had to do was get up the nerve to seduce someone she never wanted to seduce.
Right.
That wasn't happening.
Her eye was drawn back to the TV, where competitors were now trying to run across giant dominoes to get from one platform to another. A man in a cow costume got halfway across, tipped back, and did a really spectacular ass-first tumble off the obstacle. Marian focused on that: Watching other people being ridiculous was way better than trying to figure out how she could basically ask a demon to sexually assault her. Especially when the endgame was destroying the world.
Man, she'd really fucked up somewhere. She'd say it was in getting kicked out of Heaven, but fuck them—she was right, and the angels were wrong. Don't think about that right now, just relax, watch the crazy Japanese TV, don't think about—
"What's wrong, love?" Crowley's voice was low and soft. He sounded human, like he was genuinely concerned about her.
Everything, she thought.
Crowley chuckled, and Marian realized she'd actually said it aloud.
"I—I didn't mean to say that. I'm just…I keep thinking about stuff I don't want to think about."
"Mmm. Honestly, I'm amazed by how well you've been doing. It must be the angel or the hunter in you, or both, but you're remarkably resilient."
Marian's spine tingled as he pressed the heel of his palm between her shoulder blades and pulled his hand all the way down her back. Gods, that felt good.
"Hmm?" she replied.
He repeated the motion; she could practically hear him smirk with satisfaction, knowing he'd found another thing she couldn't resist. "What he did to you—that's one of the more basic forms of torture used on souls in Hell. It's completely unoriginal and lacks finesse, of course, but it's basic because it works. Nothing breaks a soul better than sexual violation. You can stab needles into a man's eyeballs all day and he'll scream; but shove a dick in his ass and he'll be a quivering, sobbing mess for ages." Marian tensed, and he added: "Sorry, that sounded less crass in my head. The point is, it's natural for you to break down. It's a very human thing to do."
She was quiet for a moment, working up the courage to ask: "Why didn't you just…Do what he did? Seems like it'd be much easier than being nice to me and doing all the awesome stuff we did today."
Crowley's hand paused on her lower back, then continued to massage her. "You know why."
"It doesn't make sense, though. The whole 'bonded' thing—I mean, I get that a human can love a demon, but how does a demon bond to a human? They're only capable of loving themselves."
"Really. Did the angels teach you that?"
Marian's brow furrowed. "It's just…Common knowledge. Isn't it?"
"Of course Heaven would push their anti-demon propaganda. We may be a bunch of twisted, mutilated souls, but we still have feelings…Mostly bad ones, but there are instances of demons falling in love with humans and even angels. Arguably the greatest friendship of all time is between an angel and a demon, though you won't hear either side talk about it."
"The greatest—" Marian turned her head to the side so that she could look at him. "How do you know about it, if no one talks about it?"
"I pay attention. And I happen to be in the right places at the right times."
Marian felt her heart sink a little. She'd been able to rationalize her decision to save her friends and family by telling herself that the prophecy was bogus anyhow, because it required a demon to love something other than itself. If what Crowley was saying was true, then Agnes might really have known what she was talking about. Marian might have really signed up to produce the Abomination. She turned her face away from him again.
"The angel that guarded the Eastern Gate of Eden, and the snake that told Eve to eat the apple," Crowley continued.
"I thought that was Lucifer."
"Ha! A little errand like that? No, he sent a demon to do his work. And that demon and that angel have been stationed on Earth ever since, supposedly working against each other. They do lunch an awful lot for a pair of enemies, though. And I've caught the angel doing the demon's work, and vice versa. They seem to have an…Understanding."
Marian nearly jumped out of her skin when the rabbit jumped onto her legs. He'd made no sound as he'd moved across the room, and she'd just about forgotten he existed. She turned onto her side more so that she could pet him as he crept up the bed to sniff her.
"Hey little buddy. How you doin'? You miss your little bunny family yet?"
As she leaned back against Crowley, he slipped his arm around her waist. The rabbit sniffed his hand, then settled down against Marian's chest and started to chew on her hair. She petted his little nose the way her childhood rabbits liked. He didn't seem stressed out, but she still felt bad for taking him away from the other rabbits. She didn't dare ask Crowley to put him back yet though, and risk sounding ungrateful.
Crowley seemed to pick up on her thoughts anyway (she was now about 50% sure that he couldn't flat-out read her mind). "Shall I take him home for the night? I know you're feeling guilty about keeping him away."
Marian blushed. "I do feel bad about it. He…Doesn't seem to mind, though."
The demon kissed the top of her head. "Mmm. Well, animals are good at hiding fear. Just like humans." He removed his arm from her waist and touched the rabbit. "He'll go right back to where I found him."
The bunny vanished, and Crowley wrapped his arm around her again, pulling her tighter against him. Marian's head was spinning with so many thoughts racing around, most of them negative, mostly related to being attacked by demons. The odd thought would pass by, demons are capable of loving others? And she would dismiss it as Crowley's pro-demon propaganda, but then another thought would float in, But what if he's telling the truth? What if, someday, he does those kind things for me because he cares about me, and not just because he's playing some long con game where the end goal is to hurt me anyway?
Oh, shut up. What are you, five? Of course he's not going to care about you for real. He's a demon.
But if demons can—
I'm going to go insane.
She wished she could talk to her friends about everything, but after what had happened the last time she was with them she assumed another meet-up wasn't in the cards. Hell, she doubted he'd even let her call them again. And asking him if she could call Erica just to talk about him seemed…Well, unlikely to succeed. She'd just have to be like the rabbit: Hide her fear. Hide her feelings. Just do what she needed to in order to survive.
Right now, she just needed to sleep.
"You'll be alright, angel," Crowley purred, kissing her cheek. "Everything's going to be alright."
Marian jolted awake from another nightmare about Crowley assaulting her, only this time he'd also killed all the rabbits on Rabbit Island in front of her. The real Crowley was sitting next to her, going over more paperwork. He set it aside and gave her a concerned look.
"Nightmares again?"
She nodded; he slid down to her level and slipped his arm around her, drawing her into him. She shivered and buried her face in his chest. This is what you get for defying Heaven, part of her said. Another part, the angry, defiant part, shot back: No, screw Heaven for wanting to forsake God's creation. Screw Heaven right to Hell; I did what was right.
"What time is it?"
"About 1 am. You've only been asleep for a few hours."
She groaned. "Can you do that thing again so I don't dream?"
Crowley hesitated. "…Yes. I can't do that all the time, though; it can make you go insane, not being able to dream." He touched the top of her head and she felt the tingly burn of his power trickle through her head.
"Mmm-kay. Thank you," she mumbled. And she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
The following morning began with more bunny snuggles, and then they were off to sight-see at some of Japan's most spectacular and out-of-the-way temples. Since she'd studied religion…Well, religiously, Marian was familiar with most of the customs and imagery, but seeing everything in person was different from reading about it in books. Angels, as a rule, left the non-Christian temples alone: No one prayed to them (though the angels heard their prayers anyway), and there was nothing explicitly Satanic going on, so the 'minor' religions mostly flew under Heaven's radar.
Everything was beautiful and serene. The few tourists present remained quiet and respectful (except for a few Americans, who made their whole country look bad with their loud and boisterous behavior). Crowley told her that the temples hosted benign spirits: For the most part they left him alone, but at one temple he decided to leave early because they were eyeing him like a pack of Dobermans at a junkyard.
Lunch was at an unassuming little restaurant in Kyoto. It looked no different on the outside from all the other shops, except that this one was twice as busy.
"The man who owns this shop," Crowley explained as they sat down, "His grandfather was a client. People around here don't normally…Lean toward demons, but this fellow knew what he was doing. He wanted to make the best ramen in Japan, and he wanted his children and his children's children, blah blah blah, to make the best ramen in Japan. He didn't want some grand and fancy restaurant, or to be famous across the country. He just wanted to be the best."
It really was the best. He showed her the right way to eat it (apparently Japanese-style ramen was more complicated than dropping a brick of noodles into boiling water), and the owner came over to thank them for stopping by.
Marian was shocked. "You—he—you like Crowley?"
"Oh yes, we love Mr. Crowley," the man replied with a smile. "Grandfather always said he owed his success to him, and we still believe he brings us good luck."
"Huh." She had never heard anyone associate Crowley with good luck before; it seemed…wrong. But she wasn't about to correct the man, especially not with Crowley sitting right there. Evidently, Grandfather hadn't explained that he was going to be ripped apart by hellhounds ten years after his restaurant took off, and his family had probably come up with some perfectly natural reason for his unsightly death.
Crowley seemed to be following her train of thought. Once the nice man was out of earshot, he leaned across the table and said quietly: "Heart attack, two weeks before he was due. Much better way to go. He never told anyone in his family what he'd done."
Oh. That was…Better, then.
After lunch, the demon had one more animal-related destination up his sleeve. There was a 'fox sanctuary' that promised free-range foxes, feeding, petting, etc, and he knew that would be Marian's kind of place, so he didn't bother to look into it any further before bringing her.
It was not, from Marian's point of view, a sanctuary.
It was fox Hell.
There were free-range foxes, but they were skinny and mangy, fighting viciously over pellets tossed by tourists. Some foxes were kept on short chains, and were either too skinny or morbidly obese. Still more foxes were in small cages, reminiscent of puppy mills, with just enough room to stand up and turn around. All of them looked miserable. Where were the healthy foxes that were on the posters and brochures? These all needed help, and it didn't look like they were getting it: they were probably much healthier before they'd been 'rescued.'
Marian was practically in tears, angry and upset. She hadn't pushed back against Heaven just for humans to abuse animals like this—and they called it a tourist attraction! These animals were suffering for people's entertainment!
"Sorry, love; I thought it would be like the rabbits," Crowley apologized, feeling the last of his angel's good mood slip away.
Marian knelt by a chained fox and scratched its chest. The chain had worn away all the fur around its neck, and it was starting to develop sores. "I just…I wish I could do something. I know I'm not hunting anymore, but I still want to help people. Even if those people…Aren't really people." The fox chittered at her, making a sound like purring, and she swallowed a lump in her throat. "Shit, you could take lessons from these people! What the fuck is wrong with them? Either they're too stupid to know what they're doing is wrong, or they just don't care. Either way…"
She stood, clearing her throat, and tried to discreetly swipe moisture out of the corner of her eye. Crowley looked at her thoughtfully.
"You really care about them, don't you," he said.
Marian nodded, glaring at a tourist who was apparently enjoying watching the foxes fight over his food.
"What would you do for them, if you could?"
She shrugged. "Don't know what you can do at this point; if they were in America, most of them would probably be euthanized 'cause they're so sick. If I was an angel, though…I'd find a forest for them. That way, even if they're going to die, at least they'll be free. Being stuck here, just to make money off tourists…Anything's better than living like this. Captivity sucks."
She suddenly realized the parallel between the captive foxes and her own captivity, and realized she had it much better than they did. There was something wrong with the world when a demon was a kinder captor than humans.
"Hmm." He gave her a long look, studying her, like he was flipping through her thoughts for the ones he wanted. She still wasn't sure that he couldn't do that. After a moment's consideration he seemed to reach a decision, and snapped his fingers.
The cages disappeared, but the foxes did not. Every barrier, in fact, disappeared: Cages, fences, chains and leashes all vanished. Foxes stood still, blinking in dumb surprise for a moment, unsure of what was happening. Then, one by one, realization dawned in their sad little gummed-up eyes.
Marian took a step sideways toward the demon. "Crowley…"
Throughout the 'sanctuary,' there were multiple vending machines that dispensed little food pellets for the foxes. These all spontaneously broke, spilling their entire contents onto the ground. Many foxes ran for the food. They didn't even bother fighting: there were a few snaps and growls, but any unlucky fox merely moved on to the next feeding station.
The foxes who weren't interested in food decided this would be an excellent time to escape. They ran in every direction, causing a panic among the human staff and visitors. People who attempted to stop them were snapped at; children had snacks swiped right out of their hands; the smallest children were knocked over in the foxes' haste to escape their prison.
A couple of the worse-off caged foxes were unable to walk. They looked days away from death, and it broke Marian's heart.
Crowley saw her expression and followed her gaze to the dying animals. With another snap, the foxes died instantly.
Marian gasped in shock. "Why did you do that?!"
"They were going to die anyway. It's not like there's a nice vet on hand that would euthanize them, or they would have done it already." He closed the distance between them and slid his arm around her shoulders. "They didn't feel a thing, I promise. Come on; let's enjoy the show."
They ported to the entrance, where dozens of foxes were now flooding past what had been the entry gates, bounding down a dirt road surrounded by forest. Mangy and emaciated, with green discharge coming out of their eyes and noses, they nevertheless managed to look happy as they fled. A few humans were running around behind them, shouting and waving and generally acting like lunatics. They probably thought they were lunatics: How else could they explain the sudden disappearance of all their fencing? A pudgy, overfed white fox hopped into an open vehicle, swiping food from the passenger seat. A cluster of little pups chased after each other, their mother nudging them forward.
There was an explosion in the main visitor center. Marian jumped and spun around. "What was that?"
"Don't worry, none of your precious little fluffballs were harmed."
"You did that?"
He shrugged, a mischievous smile on his face. "It was just so boring. You can't have a proper escape without something exploding."
Her eyes widened as smoke began to billow out of the windows. "Is…Is anyone…?"
"Dead? No, I'd hate to kill any of the nice fox-torturing people," he said sarcastically. "Alright, let's get these little fur coats home before someone starts shooting at them."
Marian felt the world shift, and she was suddenly in a different kind of forest. Large trees went on seemingly forever, without a road or building in sight. The ground was littered with fallen trees, leaves, and rocks, perfect for hiding small animals. Foxes appeared all around her, looking momentarily stunned, but they recovered quickly and started to run off in all directions. Within minutes, they were gone.
"There. Now they can be killed by coyotes and mountain lions; much more dignified," Crowley said.
Marian shot him a glare.
He raised his eyebrows. "Isn't this what you wanted? Quick, natural deaths over that torture pit?"
She sighed. "…Yes."
Crowley squeezed her shoulder. "Some of them will make it. Foxes are known for being clever, after all."
She glanced around at the trees: They looked too familiar, not like something she'd find in Japan. "Where are we?"
"Canada. Just north of…Everywhere, really. I don't think there's an official name for the place; it's well out of the way of human interference."
He blinked them back to the fox farm, where confused staff members were busy radioing each other to figure out what had happened and why the fences were suddenly gone. Crowley grinned and winked at Marian; a moment later, the rest of the visitor center exploded.
People cowered reflexively and screamed, including Marian.
"Crowley!" she hissed.
"What? No one was inside."
Flaming debris landed nearby. Children cried. Sirens sounded in the distance as firetrucks made their way to the compound.
"And now, I think it's time for us to move on…"
She'd had enough of the blinking from place to place: her skin itched from demonic power and her head spun. Before her brain could process her new surroundings, she lost her balance and pitched backwards. She fell into Crowley, who was suddenly behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist to steady her.
"It's odd," he said, not letting go of her, "porting has no ill effect on humans or angels, yet you look like you've just gotten off the Tilt-a-Whirl at the state fair."
"Feels like it," Marian mumbled. She took a few deep breaths, trying to feel less like she'd just been tossed around the inside of a clothes dryer.
"Do you want to sit down?"
She shook her head. "I just need to walk it off, I think."
"Alright." Instead of letting go of her, though, Crowley's arms tightened around her. "Hmm. I should do this more often," he purred. "It seems we both have an…Unusual effect on each other."
He released her and held his arm out for her to take, leading her out of the dark little corner he'd ported them into. Marian squinted as she suddenly found herself surrounded by bright lights and flashing neon: They were in the center of Tokyo.
Traffic inched along in the street, congested but unnaturally quiet compared to, say, New York. The sidewalks were full of people as well, and there was some jostling, but it was polite jostling.
"Why is everyone so quiet?" Marian whispered.
"It's Japan," Crowley shrugged. "Everyone colors inside the lines."
She looked closer at her fellow pedestrians: most had similar hairstyles, clothes and shoes. She'd heard individuality wasn't really a thing in Japan, but she hadn't realized to what extent. The only people who were dressed differently seemed to be the tourists: Tall, with either black or white skin, they stood out from the homogenous crowd.
"Sounds boring."
"It can be, from the Western point of view. But there's much less crime, the streets are cleaner and safer…Everything has its trade-offs."
They wandered through the busiest retail districts, just looking at all the exotic things that people could buy. There were high-high-end electronics and jewelry, square melons that cost as much as a sushi dinner, and plastic models of food—lots of plastic food. There was an entire district, as it turned out, dedicated to making plastic food for restaurant displays: Every food shop, no matter how small, had a proud display of their wares immortalized in plastic. The nicer shops had custom-made pieces, formed from molds of their actual food, and the people who made the fake food had as much training as the actual chefs.
If luxury goods and fake food weren't your bag (and there were also plenty of bags one could buy), there was always the pop culture phenomenon known as Hello Kitty. She was a popular gal, with sections of stores and even entire stores dedicated to her and her friends. For the high-rollers, there was a Swarovski crystal-encrusted figurine about the size of a guinea pig.
Not everyone was dressed identically, as it turned out: clusters of teens passed them in groups, going against society with brightly-colored clothes and hair dyed pink or green. As far as rebellious teens, however, they were…Well, they weren't anything compared to America. Their outfits were crazy, but they were all identically crazy, and when a group was just standing around talking, they all managed to adopt the same posture. They were being different, together. Marian admired their spirit, but thought they could benefit from a little MTV if they really wanted to embrace counter-culture.
She was looking at a restaurant's window display advertising corn on pizza when the screaming started. Corn? Really? They put corn on EVERYTHING here, she thought. Then: Ooh. Screaming. Must find out why.
She looked up toward the source of the cries and found dozens and dozens of people running toward her. Ah: This was familiar territory. She began to stride purposefully upstream against the retreating crowd, but was stopped by a firm hand on her arm.
"I just want to see what's going on," she said, throwing Crowley a pleading look.
Crowley sighed. There hadn't been any gunshots, at least, and he could always heal whatever wounds she acquired. Angels didn't mess with humans, and he knew there were no demons in the area; maybe it wouldn't hurt to let her have her little 'hunter' moment. He nodded and pulled her off to the side. "Sorry to do this to you again," he said, and vanished the both of them.
Marian's stomach clenched as they reappeared right at the edge of a widening circle of people. Not everyone had run: curiosity had gotten the better of many humans in the crowd, and they hovered around the scene, bodies tensed to run if the need arose.
In the center of the circle was a middle-aged man, dressed just like all the other middle-aged men in Tokyo. Marian couldn't see his face from her position, but from behind he looked stiff and terrified. In front of him and gradually fanning around him were five…Girls, if that's what they were. They looked like the antagonist of every Japanese horror film she'd ever seen: Long black hair, clothing soaked and torn, their skin turning blue and veiny with decay. They were slightly translucent. Water dripped from their bodies, puddling at their bare feet and slowly flowing into an open manhole.
"I know that man," someone whispered beside her. "Kaito Tanaka. He was in the news a few years ago—they were investigating him over the deaths of his students. They disappeared, one by one, and the bodies were found weeks later in the sewers. Police said the girls had been raped and then had their throats slit and tossed into the sewer. They didn't have enough evidence to convict Tanaka-san, so they released him and he went back to teaching…"
Crowley chuckled. "I guess he was guilty after all, poor bastard."
Marian looked around for any suitable ghost-fighting weaponry. She hadn't bothered to keep any salt or iron on her, because she had her angel blade; but that did precisely nil against ghosts.
The demon noted her visual search of the environment. "I wouldn't worry about stopping these ones, darling. They're vengeful spirits; they're not going to go after anyone except the man who killed them."
She continued to glace around the crowd. "But—they're ghosts. And they're going to kill him. I should…"
"Should you? I know you have a thing about saving humans, but this human raped and killed at least five girls, not a one over 12 years old, and those are just the ones he dumped in this sewer. You let him live, he continues to live life a free man. Free to kill more kids…Or you could rethink your stance on what makes a monster a monster…"
Marian's brow knit together in thought. She couldn't take her eyes off of the creepy ghost children. The girls were reaching out to touch him, and he was backing away, but they were all around him and he just wound up backing into one of them; he screamed at their touch, and turned to run. She could see his face now, and it was getting uglier by the moment: He was starting to look like the ghosts, his veins turning blue and his skin paling, hair now drenched, and a dark red line appeared across his throat. He screamed one last time, the kind of scream that goes straight to the basic reptilian part of the brain and says, Run. And Tanaka-san collapsed to the ground, disappearing beneath the girls, and then disappeared altogether.
The girls turned out toward the crowd, and the circle took a collective step back. Marian glanced at Crowley nervously: was the demon wrong about them? Were they all in danger? But then there was a sort of collective sigh from the five, and they began to glow with a warm yellow light. The sickly blue color faded from their skin, and they looked like they had before they died; then the light filled them, and grew brighter until they vanished entirely.
"What the hell was that?"
"Vengeful Japanese yokai," Crowley said with a grin. "Once they've fulfilled their 'mission,' they can be at peace. Much more civilized than your psychotic American counterparts, really."
The adrenaline she'd felt when she'd heard the first scream was starting to wear off now that no one seemed to be in immediate danger. "So they're really…They're gone, like, forever? Not just back to the sewer or wherever?"
"Really gone." He grabbed her arm as she swayed on her feet, holding her in place as the crowd began to disperse around them. "Shall we call it a day, angel? I have to get you back home; can't stay away from work forever."
She was still staring at the spot where the girls had been. "Hmm? Oh. Right." She finally looked away from the manhole, which a few men were sealing up again. "Home sounds great."
With one last sickening lurch, she was back in her room. Crowley sat her down before she could fall down, perching beside her on the edge of the bed and rubbing her back as she breathed through the nausea. Her skin itched, but it was like it itched from the inside out.
"You alright?"
She nodded. "Just need a second." Even her teeth itched. Why was she so sensitive to demonic energy?
He kissed the top of her head. "I need to check on a couple of things in Hell. I won't be gone more than an hour."
When Crowley returned, Marian was asleep at the foot of her bed, a book about Japanese folklore still in her hand. The demon removed the book, setting it aside on her dresser, and sat down next to her, smoothing her hair out of her face.
Marian woke with a start, jerking backwards. When she that it was only Crowley, though, she relaxed. "Hey," she said with a sleepy yawn. "How's Hell?"
"Totally incompetent, as always. They're lucky I'm there to sort things out." He motioned for her to move back to the head of the bed, standing up and moving to sit beside her again. With a flick of his wrist, the TV turned on. "Thank Hell for mindless entertainment."
He put his arm around her shoulders, and she let gravity pull her against him, resting her head just beneath his shoulder. Good Morning Vietnam had just started on whatever channel Crowley had flipped to.
"Robin Williams is fantastic," Marian said.
Crowley sighed. "He is, isn't he? I almost had him, you know. I really did try…But he managed to make it on his own. I love his work, but it still hurts that he could have been one of mine…"
"I'm glad you didn't get him. Means he'll be around for more than ten years."
The demon smiled. "I could always give him an extension."
"What? That's a thing?"
"For…Extraordinary people, it can be. Some souls do more for Hell on Earth than they ever would in Hell. Hitler, for example, and Stalin. Williams certainly isn't promoting genocide, but he is fun to watch."
They fell silent for a while, just watching the movie. It was nice to just…Un-focus on the world after such a wild day. When the commercial break started, though, Crowley's focus turned back onto the angel.
"You enjoyed Japan, I hope?"
She nodded against his chest. "It was amazing. Thank you."
He kissed the top of her head. "Never thought you'd be jailbreaking foxes as a hunter, did you? It's given me some ideas for our next date, though. Sabotaging a whaling ship, perhaps, or liberating a fur farm?"
Marian laughed. "I'm really not a violent person. Toward…Toward humans, I mean."
"Really. So if I showed you a room full of little rabbits, just like the ones from the island, that were about to be skinned alive, you wouldn't want to stop it?"
She bristled. "Well—"
"If you found the leaders of a dog-fighting operation, you wouldn't want to take them out like a nest of vampires?"
"I would fucking kill them," she muttered.
Crowley chuckled. "That's my girl." He shifted position slightly and turned toward her, sliding his arm under her knees to scoop her up and deposit her in front of him, between his legs. Marian tensed, unsure what he was up to but fairly certain it wasn't something she was going to like.
She used to cuddle like this with her one long-term boyfriend (who'd been killed in a hunt): Her back against his chest, head resting in the crook of his shoulder, it gave her boyfriend easy access to grope her breasts, finger her, and grind against her ass all at the same time. Hopefully Crowley wasn't planning on doing any of those things.
Crowley ran his hands up her sides to her shoulders, massaging them for a moment before sliding all the way down to her hips. She held her breath, muscles stiff. He was being sensual without being, for lack of a better word, inappropriate: When she realized he was avoiding the zones her boyfriend had focused on, she started to breathe again, but she couldn't relax. She kept waiting for his hands to stray where they didn't belong…
He moved back up to her arms, rubbing little circles with his thumbs as his hands slid down to her wrists. He then crossed her own arms over her ribs and overlapped them with his, covering her hands with his own and continuing to rub the pads of his thumbs into the back of her hands. Since his hands were no longer wandering, Marian relaxed a little, letting the demon's radiating heat soak into her tense muscles. It did feel nice to be held, even if Crowley was the one holding her.
Trying to get more comfortable, she twisted a little to one side, pulling her knees up as far as she could and letting her legs fall against the demon's thigh. When he felt her settle against him, finally giving in, he hummed happily and held her tighter.
"My little angel," he sighed, kissing the top of her head. He continued to massage her hands and forearms when the ad break ended, and with every minute that passed she melted against him a little more.
By the time the next commercial break came on, Marian was feeling looser. Her skin felt hot and tingly wherever he touched her, but not in a bad way…And that in itself was bad. Was she…Was she really enjoying this? You do not like this, she chided herself. You are not attracted to him. If you give him ANY indication that you're into him, he'll jump you like a frat boy. And though she might not mind the snuggling, she wasn't attracted to him. She certainly wasn't "bonded" to him like Agnes had said in her prophecy.
She yawned and turned her head into his chest a little more. "I have a…Weird question."
"Hmm?"
"Why do you snuggle with me? It just doesn't seem very…Demonic." She yawned again. "I mean, I get you just wanted to torture me at first, but then I got used to it, and…You still do it…"
Crowley chuckled. "I guess I got used to it, too." He brought one hand up to run through her hair, keeping his other arm wrapped around her. "You are…Addictive, darling. It must be your angelic heritage, because I've never felt anything like it from another human. You radiate this positive, loving energy. At first it was just painful to be around, but now I can't get enough of it."
Marian was feeling less relaxed. She wasn't sure that she wanted to radiate a positive, loving energy. Especially not to him.
"It's stronger when you're with your friends. And surprisingly even more so when you're surrounded by animals. You'd never met one of those foxes before in your life, but I could feel that you loved them, that it would physically pain you not to help them. I felt your empathy for them, and your compassion, and I envied them for it." He chuckled, but there was a bitterness behind it. "I was human once; I had a mother. I even had a wife and a son. None of them cared for me with even a fraction of the love you felt for those animals. To be fair, I was a rotten human being…A terrible husband and an even worse father. Maybe if my mother hadn't been such an evil bitch, I would have turned out better…"
Crowley realized he was sharing things he hadn't meant to share, and tried to shift back to his original topic.
"The point is. I think there was a point. Ah. Yes. When I hold you, there's this moment when you let yourself relax and you just melt into me; and I like to imagine that some of that love radiating from you is meant for me."
Marian felt her face flush. "Are you going to start possessing animals, so I'll like you more?"
Crowley laughed. "Are you admitting that you like me a little?"
Her eyes widened. "…Alright, fine, you aren't horrible. Aside from threatening to kill all my friends and family and an entire town of people, you've been…Thoughtful, and considerate, and…And kind of sweet." Even though she couldn't see his face, she could feel him smiling victoriously. "Can't you get your 'demon' card revoked for something like that?" she joked.
"Nah, no take-backs in Hell. I can be sickeningly sweet and they'll still let me torture souls on Tuesdays." He snapped his fingers and the blankets drew themselves up to her shoulders. "It's your fault I'm an emotional sap anyway. I ought to be disemboweling underperformers, but here I am cuddling—cuddling—with an angel reject."
Marian smiled and closed her eyes. It was too bad that he wanted to help Lucifer destroy the world, because overall he wasn't so bad, for a demon.
Crowley had gone back to work by the time Marian woke up. She went through her day on autopilot: Cook, eat, clean up, work out, look through the papers. But she wasn't really hungry, and it was hard to focus on the news. She'd been doing alright when she could focus on Crowley, but now that she was alone her mind kept straying back to her abduction. Her nervous habit of chewing on her lip turned into biting her lip hard enough to bleed, the pain keeping her grounded in the present.
Everything on TV was focused on Christmas, from the news to the ads, and there were specials playing all the time. It was just another reminder of the life she'd given up. Though her life as a hunter took her all around the country (and the world), she always made it a point to come home for the holidays. From Thanksgiving to New Year's, she wouldn't stray farther than a few hours from home, and her might-as-well-be-a-sister Erica did the same. Since most of Erica's family was deceased (hence why she became a hunter), Marian had adopted her into her own family's traditions, and she'd been absorbed into the fold without question as "Marian's friend from college who doesn't have a place to go for the holidays." They knew her parents and siblings had passed (in a house fire, though the culprits were never mentioned), and that her extended family was either dead/dying/international. When Erica officially started dating David, David was absorbed as well. Marian hoped they would both continue to visit her family without her.
Her local paper had ads for the mall's Winter Village, where kids could meet Santa (she and Erica had volunteered as elves one year, going undercover when kids started vanishing—turned out Santa was less of a jolly old elf and more of a child-munching monster), and there was a model train display that reminded her of her human grandfather. There were pictures of the store displays downtown, which Marian always loved to look at in person. The classifieds listed all the upcoming craft fairs; there was an announcement about the annual Holiday Lights Parade; and a little blurb about Christmas pageants, concerts, and food drives. They were all things she would have loved to go to with her friends and family. They were not the sort of thing she would ever ask Crowley to take her to: Demons and Christmas just…Did not go together.
Crowley was gone for a few days, which didn't help things. She should be thankful she didn't have to deal with him, she decided, but it was worse not having him there. The thoughts she had right now were not the kind she wanted to be left alone with. And without his demon mojo blocking her ability to dream, the nightmares wouldn't go away. She tried not sleeping, but she was so depressed that all she wanted to do was sleep: She became a zombie, dragging herself aimlessly from room to room. Her brain cycled through an endless depressive loop of demons hurting her, always starting with flashbacks of her abduction and moving into arguments with herself:
Crowley won't hurt you like that.
Why not? He owns you. He literally owns you. Like a chair. You are on the same level as a chair to him. You think he wouldn't break a chair?
She pictured him smashing a chair into toothpicks by throwing it into a wall. It wouldn't even take any effort for a demon.
Maybe I should just…Give up. Quit. Yes, ending my life would void my contract, and 6000 people including my friends and family would die…But at least I wouldn't be alive to see it.
Although, if he owns my soul, won't he just torture me in Hell when I die?
Maybe. But at least all this will be over.
She sat down at Crowley's desk and shuffled through the newspapers she hadn't read yet. She wasn't even reading whole sentences anymore, just looking for key words, and even those were starting to blur together. She picked up a push-pin and stabbed herself in the thigh, the pain keeping her grounded and awake. If she could just focus on the words, she would be okay. Just don't think about her family, or Lester, or Crowley. Don't think about being held down with demonic power and violated. Don't think about how much better your life was before, when you were actually hunting demons and killing monsters. Think about what's going on in…Let's see…Salt Lake City. Nothing out of the ordinary, of course. She stabbed herself with the push-pin again.
Eventually, Marian did fall asleep, and when she woke up Crowley was setting her down on her bed. He laid down next to her and kissed her forehead, then her cheek.
Then his mouth was covering hers.
Marian gasped in surprise and tried to back away from him, but he rolled on top of her, hands planted on the mattress to either side of her head, one leg between her thighs. He kissed her hard, hard enough to make her lip start to bleed again, and he lapped up her blood hungrily. Again, she tried to wriggle away from him, but this time he leaned more of his weight onto her, pinning her in place and knocking the breath out of her. He wedged his other leg between hers, spreading her legs apart, and suddenly she was naked. Crowley released her lips and began nibbling his way down her neck.
"Crowley—" Marian pleaded.
"Shh. I'm not going to hurt you, angel." He ground his hips against her. "I'm going to take my time with you, make sure you enjoy yourself. Then you'll love me."
"What?! That's not how it works. Please, don't—"
He pinched her nipple and she let out a little squeak of pain. Then his hand traveled down between her legs. She tried to clamp her thighs together, but Crowley just used his own legs to spread them further apart. Then he bit her shoulder.
Marian woke when someone grabbed her shoulder. Still reacting to her dream world, she tried to push away, and suddenly found that she could. She kicked out and the large, sturdy desk chair she'd been sitting in toppled backward, crashing to the floor. Disoriented, she rolled out of the chair and tried to stand up, but her head was still spinning, and she sank back to the floor.
Crowley grabbed her shoulder again. "Hey. You're alright. You're safe."
She looked up at him, still confused. They were in her bed; why were they in his office now? Was…Was that just a dream? She was wearing clothes now, she realized. She was wearing clothes, and she was drenched in sweat, and her lip was bleeding, and there was dried blood on her jeans from all the times she'd jabbed a tack through her skin. Crowley saw all of it.
"Alright, let's get you cleaned up." He scooped her up in his arms and ported them to her room.
He started to set her down on the bed, and Marian panicked. She shook her head, 'no,' but she couldn't even form coherent words, just a low whine. She wrapped her arms around Crowley's neck so that he couldn't set her down, and she started to shake.
"What on Earth?" Crowley muttered, thoroughly perplexed. "Look, I have to set you down." He used his power to remove her arms from his neck, depositing the quivering mass of fallen angel at last. "I've only been gone four days. What happened?"
She shook her head. She didn't want to talk about it. She especially didn't want to talk about the nightmare she'd just had, that had seemed so real.
"Angel," he said, a warning tone in his voice. He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him.
She tried to look anywhere but at him. "Dreams," she said.
Crowley's eyes narrowed. "About Lester?"
She looked to the side. Some of them had been about him, yes. She nodded.
"About me?" Crowley prompted.
She hesitated. Then nodded.
He really has mucked things up for me, Crowley thought sourly. I ought to find a way to drag him out of the Empty just so I can torture and kill him again. Aloud, he said: "Alright, I'll stop you from dreaming for a little while longer."
He touched her forehead and she felt a sharp tingle of power move through her head and down the back of her neck. It made her feel sleepy, and she wondered if he was sedating her as well, or if she was just that tired. She sagged as he pulled his hand away and he caught her shoulder, moving her so that her head hit her pillow as she slumped onto her side. He touched her bloody, chewed-up lip, healing it, then licked the blood off his finger. With a flick of his wrist, her pants disappeared, and she was suddenly very much awake. He grabbed her thigh and she bit her newly healed lip, but he just healed the little pushpin stab holes in her skin and mojoed her pajama pants onto her. Then he drew a blanket over her and slid in beside her, his regular suit replaced with black silk pajamas.
"What happens if I die?" Marian asked, and immediately regretted it.
Crowley paused. "You mean, if you kill yourself?" he clarified.
"I—Never mind, it was a stupid question—"
"Well," he said, hooking his arm around her waist and pulling her closer, "You would be breaking your contract, so I would have to kill your family and all those other people. I doubt the angels would let you into Heaven, which means your soul goes to Hell. Assuming I find you first, I would resurrect you and you'd be right back where you started, except that now everyone you know would be dead. If I'm not the first demon to find you, well…I think you know how that goes."
Marian hid her face in his chest. He held her tighter.
"Am I really that bad, that you would rather end your life than be with me? I know you had a bit of a setback with the other demon, but you must understand by now that we're different. There aren't many demons like me. There aren't any demons like me, really."
She shook her head. "I know you're different. But you're still a demon. And you still want…What Agnes said."
He ran a hand through her hair. "I want you to be happy."
"It's kinda hard to be happy when someone owns you."
Crowley hadn't thought about it like that before. Human emotions were so damn complicated; why did they have them at all? Then again, feeling what Marian felt—how she loved her friends, even those dumb animals—he wanted to feel that for himself, more than anything. Maybe it was worth it, dealing with all the other crappy feelings, if people could feel loved? Or maybe it was all a bunch of crap, because no one had ever shown him any love.
But he would get Marian to love him. It didn't matter how long it took. He would just keep doing nice things for her, and showing her that he cared about her. "I can't let you go, but maybe I can improve your mood."
Oh fuck, don't be like the dreams, Marian thought. But Crowley didn't do anything like his nightmare counterpart. He handed her a phone.
"Why don't you give your parents a call. Tell them you'll be home for a visit. I'm sure they'd like to see you at Christmas."
Marian's heart leapt into her throat. Home. Then she remembered what had happened the last time Crowley left her on her own, and she shivered. She shook her head, swallowing hard. "I…I don't…"
"I won't leave you alone this time. Demons can be invisible, just like angels; remember? I'll be right with you. And I've got another trick up my sleeve, so no one else can find you." He gestured to the phone, and it began to dial.
She immediately burst into tears at the sound of her mother's voice. It took her a while to compose herself, but she finally got the message across to them that Crowley was letting her come home to visit. Her mother was overjoyed, but her father had his concerns:
"Erica told us you were attacked by another demon at the funeral. If demons show up at our Christmas party, we're going to be even less use than your friends."
"I know. I know. Crowley will be there, just…You won't be able to see him. He'll be watching for threats."
"He'll be invisible?" her mother snapped. "Oh, heck no! If that pompous asshole is going to be lurking about, I want him where I can see him! You tell him—"
"Tell him he's welcome as a guest," her father interrupted, "A visible, human guest. We'll tell everyone he's your—your b—b—"
"Boyfriend?" Marian prompted.
"Yes. That." He sounded less than thrilled. "Do you think he'd be alright with that? He wouldn't…Cause any trouble, would he?"
Crowley chuckled. "I'll be the perfect gentleman."
There were two audible gasps on the other end of the line. "He's been listening this whole time?!"
"Yeah, Mom, he's right next to me."
Her mother growled. "Hmph. He's not going to possess anyone this time, is he? You know your grandfather has that heart condition—"
"No, it's—it'll be fine. He passes as human all the time; it's not all torture and entrails."
There was a sharp intake of breath.
"…That was a joke, Mom. I was trying to make a joke…" Marian sighed. "Look, I really want to see you guys, so just…Behave yourselves, and Crowley will behave himself. And don't do what I know you're going to do and try to make devil's traps and holy water, because you'll do it wrong anyway."
"How did you know we've been researching—"
"Because you were attacked by demons, so of course you're going to look up that stuff. Do me a favor, though, and tell Erica we're coming so she doesn't freak out when she sees us."
"Do we need to take the cross down?"
"The—What? No, that's…That doesn't affect demons."
"Alright, just making sure. I'd hate to offend our honored guest."
"Mom…"
Crowley giggled. "This is going to be fun."
She said goodbye to her parents and hung up. "This is going to be a disaster, isn't it?"
"Only if your hunter friends can't behave themselves." He wrapped his arm around her again and kissed her cheek. Calling her parents had taken her mind off of less pleasant things, and she seemed to be back in a relatively good mood. She would get to see her family soon, and this time, no half-rate demon was going to ruin things. He would make sure of that.