Chapter 2
Hope appeared in the middle of her AirBnB with a loud thump.
She all but collapsed, her chest and ribs aching with pain she didn't know an Angel could feel. There was a moment where she paused, allowing the pain to tear through her before she took a deep breath. Her Angelic Healing was working overtime, healing the cracked ribs.
The Devil was strong.
It obviously would be a perk of being the Lord of Hell, Hope thought as she took a breath. The pressure pushing down on her chest, the pressure of her hurt ribs, finally let up. Hope was exhausted, even though such feelings were unheard of for beings like her. She had gotten used to falling asleep on a semi-regular basis and after being around such evil, it made a bit of sense that she would have been feeling exhausted.
But now that the Devil knew that she was in the same city, he would come looking for her. Possibly even send out a bunch of demons too, and while the feathers kept her safe and hidden, it didn't keep her hidden enough.
Before she went to rest, Hope needed to safeguard her hideout. She shakily stood to her feet and wobbled over to her duffle bag that was stuffed with books. Most of them were on Occult and Ethereal beings. Mr. Aziraphale had insisted she take some of books that he had on repelling and warding off such beings that meant ill towards her, though it was Anathema who pointed her towards the best and most accurate.
She showed the messenger how to cast a net that would catch the bigger fish, so to speak and how to cloak herself on a bigger scale.
Hope took out the things she needed, a book of signs that repelled both the Holy and Unholy, a piece of white chalk, a small clump of sage and some salt.
Opening the book to the right page, Hope lit the sage and began to copy the shapes onto the door frame, all the while muttering the incantation. It was a bit clumsy, since she was quite a bit out of practice with Latin but it was better than Mr. Aziraphale's.
Aut custodia serva male vult istum contra innocentes. Adtendite autem Satanas in nominee Thronorum et profanum de Lucifero eiusque adseculis exercitus Dei.
Even though it was in the instructions of the spell, she didn't dare invoke the name of Michael or any other of the Archangels. They wouldn't give even the smallest fraction of their power to help her. Besides, Hope had a feeling Gabriel wasn't even listening.
She drew the last symbol on the door, sprinkling a little bit of salt in front of the threshold and finished the last round of incantation.
Invoco te praesidem aetheris, ortus spectare tuum in occasum. Amen.
Against the white paint on the door frame, you couldn't see the chalk until the end of the incantation when they burned a fiery red. Hope watched as the sigils were embedded with power, burned into the wood.
She made a trip around the apartment, doing the same incantation over each and every point of entry. Every time she finished, she watched as the sigils become blackened as they were infused with power.
Hope made a mental note to buy some paint before she left.
The sage had all but burned to ash when she was finished. Hope shifting through the ashes as they smoldered. She would make a mixture of salt and sage ash when she was feeling up to it. The power of the sage ash would amplify the power of the salt.
So on and so forth.
And if she needed to, she would go down to the little wiccan store right down the street and get anything, including more sage, if the situation called for it.
Now even more exhausted than before, Hope went to the little bedroom, exchanging the book of spells for a fantasy book that Marcus had gifted to her a little bit before she left. It was a thrilling series, one that she had picked up after she had returned from Heaven.
However, she was a bit more tired than she suspected, as after only a few pages, the Messenger angel was fast asleep.