Chapter 4

Hope woke up, who knows how much later, sore and stiff.

But she was completely healed. She sat up in her bed, smacking her dry lips. There was a moment of confusion as to why her bedroom didn't look like it belonged to in a museum about how Londoners lived in the Victorian Era and instead looked like something in her friend's house. Then, her sleep-lagging brain caught up with her and she remembered her mission.

Take the Devil out and send his essence back to Hell where it belonged.

Hope rubbed her eyes before standing and making her way to the only window that stood sentry over her room. Outside, it was dark but it seemed that the city was still alive with activity. It was like night didn't have an effect on the city, almost as though it was the end of a day, but the beginning of it. Her angelic hearing picked up the sounds of music blasting in the street, heard the wild and soon to be drunk partiers scream and shout with happiness and excitement the nightlight held. It was bizarre, a very drastic comparison from the quiet nightlife of SoHo.

Oh, how she would've given anything to be back at the bookshop, with her guardians, a good book and a nice warm fire going.

"I never should've taken this job." She whispered to the night sky. Her eyes glanced upwards and sighed heavily.

It's the only way to keep the Archangels off your trail, her brain told her. She sighed, her mind coming up with ways to rebut that thought.

Maybe it was their way of killing her off. They couldn't do anything to completely obliterate her mortal coil and celestial soul directly, nor could they use the demons to go after her because of her two guardians. Sending her on a mission to destroy the Devil and sending him back to Hell, with the possibility of complete destruction and obliteration…. well, they were just washing their hands of her, ensuring that the Devil did their dirty work for them. Hope felt something akin to righteous anger rise up in her, but she quickly clenched down on it and put a lid on it.

Hope smiled to herself as she figured a little nightly escapade was in order. The City of Angels was full of demons, that was true, but it would not only give her an opportunity to release some of the anger she felt, to get information on where the Devil might be, but also to get a chance to cleanse this sinful city.

She felt a little better at that thought as she turned towards her closet to prepare. Standing in front of the mirror that the was on the back of the closet door, Hope examined her appearance. She looked the same as always. A little on the plump side, but not enough to be considered fat, wearing her normal clothes that her close friends said made her look like a 1950s librarian, with her thick brown hair curling over her shoulders and down her back. Most of this she took in with a little apprehension. If she was going to go about this without drawing too much attention to herself, she couldn't go about the city looking like some schoolgirl, especially if she was going to be going to the more hardcore party places of Los Angeles.

Hope needed a disguise that would not only keep the demons off her until she could get close enough, but also to keep from drawing attention to herself from the local authorities or locals. So…. she had to change her appearance.

With a deep breath, Hope shifted her Angelic Power to her outward appearance. She opened her eyes just in time to see her appearance ripple. Almost like a hologram, the appearance of a twenty-one-year-old woman appeared over her sixteen-year-old one. She was still wearing her clothes, but with a snap, her clothes changed to a dark grey dress that hugged her figure snugly and in a flattering way that wasn't too revealing. Another snap of her fingers had matching; sensible shoes appear in lieu of her 'housewife shoes' as Star called them once. Hope never thought that she would look good in clothes such as these, but she remembered, not with too much fondness how Mr. Crowley helped along her outfit for the party when she first arrived in London. He remarked that she looked like the proper child of a demon and angel.

Looking in the mirror, she could very well see that.

She might as well have been born to those two.

The little miniature grandfather clock chimed eight times, telling her in its little echoing bells that it was time to go. Grabbing her Heavenly Blade, miracling it so that no one could see it and strapping to her back, Hope walked to the door. She lingered at the threshold before taking the doorknob and twisting.

Several minutes later, Hope was walking down the street and among the humans. Though the street stank and they were choked with drunk partyers, Hope found herself smiling. Humanity was always so fascinating to watch and listen to. There were some newlyweds within the crowd, some friends on holiday, and some coworkers on vacation. Most reeked of alcohol but Hope just ignored them and plunged further into the crowd. She went with the flow, trying to keep her head down but also keeping her senses alert for any demons. So far nothing.

That is until the hairs on the back of her neck stood straight up.

Hope kept her demeanor cool and neutral as she continued to walk with the flow of foot traffic before quickly turning to the left into an alley. She prayed that the demon took the bait, otherwise it would probably be a while before another demon caught her scent.

And it seemed that her luck was turning around.

A man sauntered in not too later after her. He looked very normal, very average but it was the heavy stench of sulfur that clung to him like a cloud and the horrid wound that moved with living maggots marked him out as a demon. Hope held her breath as she watched the demon walk through the alley, his glowing eyes scanning the darkness.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are." The voice was rough and sickly, and when he smiled, Hope winced at the sight of half rotten teeth. The demon took a sniff of the air, his smile taking on a more sinister look. "Smells like Heaven. Come out little pigeon."

Hope took a deep breath as she unsheathed her sword and stepped out of the shadow. While her face was stony and expressionless, fear coiled inside her as she faced a demon alone and without her guardians. And the demon seemed to know that.

"Not what I was expecting, but a nice surprise. I haven't had Messenger in a long time." He stalked forward, his forked tongue flickering out. It sent chills down Hope's spine which caused the villainous smile to deepen. "Mmmmm, your fear tastes delicious."

"Tell me where your lord is and I'll let you live." Hope said. She inwardly cringed at how corny and over the top the words sounded to her ears but it was too late to take them back. All she could do was raise her sword in a defensive position.

The demon cackled. "I'd tell you, if only to see that bastard returned to where he's supposed to be. But, unfortunately, I don't know where he is."

Hope sneered slightly. "How disappointing."

With a cry, Hope leapt forward, swinging the sword with such expertise it felt as though it was an extension of her arm. The demon looked surprised at her expertise, barely able to dodge her swings with a shocked look on his face. That shock didn't last too long, though, as he pulled out a demonic blade of his own, blocking a strike that would've sent him back to the Underworld. Hope cursed under her breath as she was suddenly thrown off balance mentally. The one thing that was always preached when it came to sword fighting was to keep yourself focused, but after that miss, that very, very narrow miss, Hope's mind entered chaos and she struggled to right it.

The demon took that opportunity to gain the upper hand. With a renewed effort, the he fought back with more ferocity than Hope could keep up with. Hope's heart was pounding in her chest, as adrenaline was the only thing keeping her body moving with precise quickness. She screamed in pain as blade caught her in the face, barely missing her eye.

She stumbled, forgetting everything and only focusing on the pain on her cheek. While most weapons didn't hurt too much, the blade was made out of daemonic metal, forged in the deepest pits of Hell, and was the only thing outside of Hellfire that could destroy her very essence if it struck the right place with the right amount of force. Her hand lost the grip on the sword she was holding.

The demon was quicker than she was, making a grab for the blade but she shot out a blast of Holy Energy, an unconscious act that felt…. right. It hit the demon head-on, burning his very essence away until he was a statute of ash that crumbled when the wind blew, the grains scattering to the winds.

Hope sat there, her eyes wide and her breathing heavy. Her body suddenly coursed with pain as the cut on her face stung. She hissed as she clutched the wound, which was bleeding profusely. Getting to her feet, her legs wobbly and slightly unsteady, Hope picked up her sword and sheathed it.

"Only been out here half-an-hour and already drew some attention to myself." Hope muttered to herself as she picked up the daemonic blade. The thought was overclouded at the fear of the attention that would be brought in response to her shooting out Holy Energy. She examined her hand closely for a few minutes, remembering with very little fondness the incident only a few months prior.

She was lucky that the more recent outburst was a bit more…. controlled. Only the Lord knows what would've happened if something more powerful had happened.

The sounds, which had faded and became muted, suddenly bombarded her. Her breath stopped in her throat and she felt dizzy. She shakily grabbed a hold of the sword and, after briefly going back and forth with herself, decided it would be prudent to head back to her apartment. As she stumbled through the crowds, her vision blurring and tilting dangerously to the side, there was a fear that she wouldn't make it back.

That some demon would pick her off as she struggled, defenseless.

But, by some grace or some shred of luck, she made it back. She felt some heavy weakness that settled in her bones, like the exhaustion that she felt back last year, but much less heavy. Still, it threw her off balance, tilting her world both literally and figuratively. Hope entered her room, collapsing on the couch, her sword clattering to the floor. She could almost smell Aziraphale's books and coco, and feel his comforting presence as she curled up into a ball, too tired to reach or miracle for a blanket. Crowley's presence was there as well, the musty smell of bourbon heavy on the air.

Get some sleep, little dove. She could hear the demon's smooth, comforting voice.

Please do, my dear. It would do you well to get some sleep.

Hope chuckled to herself. Aziraphale would always worry. Both of them did.

We love you, Hope. Both of their voices said, echoing in her mind as she let herself fall back into the dark abyss that she only just emerged from.