Part XIX: Forked

"Incubus?"

"Yes?"

"The plan?"

"Perfect."

Chas was waiting by the door when Jade returned. She stalked up to him and gazed upward into his hazel-brown eyes. He gazed right back down at her.

"Where were you?" Chas murmured, not breaking eye contact.

"I needed some fresh air." Jade muttered defiantly, "Why?"

"I just wanted to check on you…make sure you were okay? I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier," Chas injected a fair amount of contrition into his words.

Jade nodded, "I'm fine…now."

Chas's jaw clenched at the 'now' part of her sentence, "Right. Well. It's almost four. You should get some sleep."

"What, the divine don't sleep?"

Chas's jaw clenched again, "I was just looking out—"

Jade sighed, "I know." She paused, "I'm okay, Chas. It's okay. Everything. Is okay."

"Right."

Sulfur.

Agony. Death. Worse than death—eternal death.

Jade woke suddenly, gasping for air and clutching at the thin blanket that covered her. It slipped against her fingers and she looked down briefly. It was no longer a blanket but a scrap—a torn scrap of what looked like skin. Human skin. Jade shrieked and jumped off the couch, dropping it immediately. Despite the suffocating heat, she wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. A distant scream echoed her earlier shriek and her hair whipped about in an invisible wind. The apartment was decrepit, and she looked around. Even without the earlier explanation of everything that was going on, Jade knew where she was.

Hell.

God, what is that smell? Angela sat up in bed, wrinkling her nose. She felt the bed beside her. John was gone, but she supposed that wasn't unexpected. She blinked, opening her eyes wearily, and looked around.

The first thing she noticed was that everything was tinted rusty.

The second thing she noticed was that Jade was standing in the room with her.

Jade blinked at the sound of her name. She turned toward where John's bed would've been, had it still been there, and saw Angela, standing in an oversized button-down shirt and nothing else.

"Angela?" She whispered, both wanting and not wanting to see her standing there. Angela being there meant she wasn't alone…but it also meant that this wasn't a dream.

"Jade!" Angela had to raise her voice to be heard over the agonizing screams and moans and the ungodly gale that was whipping through the apartment, "Jade, are you alright?"

Jade nodded, "Yeah…yes. I think so."

Angela looked relieved as she made her way toward the teenager, "Good, stay there, I'm just going to—"

She was cut off by a scream that was no longer distant, "I'm going to come over there." Angela avoided the pitfalls that fell to the lower depths of the apartment as she made her way to where Jade was standing. She placed both hands on the teenagers shoulders and pulled her closer, "You're okay…okay. I'm going to get us out of here…I…I'm not sure how John did it, but…" Angela trailed off when Jade clutched her forearms in panic, "What? What is it?"

Jade shook her head, her eyes glazing over. Her amulet burned against her skin, an icy cold burn, and she reached up to claw at it, desperate to keep it away from her flesh. She vaguely noticed Angela doing the same thing. As soon as her fingertips touched the amulet, a bolt of icy cold lightning flashed through her, and she felt a connection—no, the connection with the other amulets. In her mind, she was connected with the wearers of her sister amulets, and in her mind, she could hear their thoughts and words.

John said—

The warm golden voice was Angela, Jade knew, so she blocked it out. The other voice, a deeper platinum voice was not—and it was talking to another. Jade clutched the amulet and listened quietly.

Incubus?

Yes?

The plan?

Perfect.

The girl?

No problem. She's so very—

Shh! The amulet!

The amulet?

You fool! The connection—

As abruptly as the icy bolt had run through her, it stopped. The voices stopped, and the amulet went back to being a cool charm against her skin, and the apartment went back to being a normal apartment on Earth, not in Hell.

Both women woke, clutching the trinity amulet around their necks, with a start.

But Angela, more versed and aware of her psychic abilities, made the seamless transition from plane to plane, while Jade, in the process of transition, unwittingly received the leakage of some prophetic sewage.

TrinityHellDyingSonElasticityMetamorphoDeathAngelSaviorRevelationLuciferEndQuixoticLoveFinishInHellInHELLDyingDeadRevelations?NoNONotTheProphecyMidnightMidniteMidnight? ? .No? . Jade woke with a scream.

"ADILA!" Constantine pounded on the door twice, and then turned the knob. It was open, so he stormed in. Angela followed, briskly and professionally, closing the door behind her.

"ADILA!" Constantine thundered through the house. Angela put one hand on his arm.

"John, we should really—"

"Yes, Mr. Constantine?" Adila poked her head out from the kitchen and gave him a—tight, but friendly—smile, "Please, come in."

"The prophecy is in effect!" Constantine ground out, across the plate of cookies she was holding out invitingly.

"Excuse me?" Adila set the platter down and wiped her hands on her apron.

"It is in effect. I thought you were supposed to know this stuff!"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Constantine, but you are mistaken. The prophecy is not in effect, it couldn't possibly be."

"Well, I wouldn't make any life-or-death bets on that. Because I think you're mistaken."

"How dare you presume to tell me what—"

John cut her off, a sudden realization hitting him. He mentally slapped himself for not seeing it earlier, but continued on, "It's…it's the result of a fork. That's why you don't think it's in effect, because you don't think the forked prophecy has come to pass!"

Adila sniffed, "Of course it hasn't come to pass, whatever gave you such a ridiculous idea—"

John barged on—he was on a roll, now, "Because you don't keep in contact with Midnite—" As he said the name, a light fixture on the wall shattered. Unfazed by this display of psychic power, John continued, "Midnite helped me in the undoing of Mammon—he sacrificed his oath to save us from a thousand years of Hell on earth and—" Another light fixture shattered and John stopped, slightly annoyed.

Adila was breathing heavily and glaring at him, "You don't mean to tell me that—that he—he—!"

John nodded, confused. Adila swore, loudly, and untied her apron.

"We need to pay a visit to your dear friend, the witchdoctor."