Chapter 42

Safety for Your Soul

Charlie stood in front of the mirror, adjusting her bowtie while Vaggie straightened out her dress nearby. Charlie's outfit was a bright red suit with a dark red lapel, a white shirt with black buttons, and white and black shoes. Since she was planning on dancing, she put two bands around her golden hair, one at neck level and the other around the middle of her back. It would help keep it contained as well as show more of her face.

Vaggie's dress was a tight, shiny gray asymmetrical bodycon with a strap over her right shoulder and a layered bottom that reached the floor on her left side. She wore fishnet stockings and elbow-length black gloves, and the hem of the skirt as well as the single strap were both lined with light-gray X's. Her usual pink bow was replaced with a white one, and she had a white ribbon tied around her waist. Both sported black ends, and she wore black dress shoes with half-inch heels.

When Charlie turned to Vaggie, she looked more than a little nervous. "Well, how do I look?"

The moth's eyes glistened as she took the princess in with a sigh. "Drop dead gorgeous, hon."

"You look perfect," Charlie gushed, taking Vaggie's hands in hers with a huge smile. "Do you think I should have worn a dress, too?"

"A little late to change now," Vaggie chuckled, straightening out a rogue wrinkle on her girlfriend's sleeve. "Besides, we always have next year."

Charlie nodded in spite of an annoying pang of pessimism in the back of her mind; the kind that adds a cynical 'If this all works out,' at the worst moments. "Yea, maybe next year…"

Vaggie grabbed her lover's shoulder with a worried expression. "What's bothering you, hon?"

"I… I don't know," she admitted, stepping out of the bathroom to have a seat on the couch. "I just… Do I seem… stupid?"

"What?!" Vaggie barked, jumping to her side in an instant. "Who the fuck said that?"

"No one… not exactly," Charlie muttered, sadly. "It just seems to be implied, somehow."

Vaggie's eye narrowed as she thought back to the last few days. "Is this because of earlier? When Eliza took over the lecture?"

"No! Well, kind of. I mean, it…" Eventually she just dropped her head into her hands. "I don't know how to say it. I mean, this isn't the first time it's happened, and it's not Eliza's fault. She's better at talking to them than I am, and I guess it's starting to bother me a little."

The moth took a seat next to Charlie, giving her knee an encouraging squeeze. "What do you mean?"

"Well, today with the lecture, I had their attention and then it was just… gone!" She threw out her arms in front of her, an incredulous expression on her face. "But it's happened before this, too! She was able to learn something from the guests for the business meeting, but no one would even talk to me when I went around to check on everyone! I've been struggling to come up with ideas for programs for rehabilitation, and all of them have been too expensive, too ridiculous or just… dumb. I don't know, I just… I thought I'd be better at this. I know what I like, what I need, and yet I can't seem to figure them out." She gestured to the door to represent the rest of the hotel. "The hotel needs more, I know it does, but I feel like I'm moving too slow!"

"We can't get everything up all at once, hon," Vaggie reminded her in a soft tone. "We have sponsors, sure, but they're holding back until we get results, or until they get whatever shit-lord-"

"Vaggie," Charlie interrupted, giving her a dry look.

"Sorry, Alastor," she corrected irritably. Charlie was trying to get the woman to play nice, but it was a slow process. "Or until they get whatever he's promising them. I'm not gonna lie; I don't like not knowing what he's telling them. He's being suspiciously tight-lipped and it bothers me a lot."

"I know, but I still trust him," Charlie told her. "Well, mostly. There are some recent problems that have been bugging me."

"Have you tried talking to Harve or Curio again?" Vaggie asked.

The princess shook her head, sadly. "I didn't get anywhere. Harve just keeps dodging and making excuses, and Curio won't talk to me at all."

"Seems scared of Eliza, though," Vaggie noted. "She said he never mentioned anything to her, but I just feel like she knows something. But when I asked, she said she didn't want to speculate in case she was wrong."

"That's actually another thing that bugs me," Charlie admitted, quietly. "Even she doesn't want to talk to me. I know I've been really busy, but am I that bad of a boss?"

"You're doing a great job," Vaggie encouraged. "This is a tough project, hon. You seem to expect it to all fall into place within a year, but things like this can take a lot longer than that! But we already have a few people signed up for this, and as hard as it is to admit, Angel Dust is making some decent progress, aside from his outbursts."

"And he's the only one that talks to me," the princess giggled.

"See? The one making the most progress is the one that talks to you! I see a connection."

"Stop it!" Charlie laughed, shoving the moth's shoulder playfully.

"No!" Suddenly the princess found herself tackled and thrown onto her back, laying across the couch while Vaggie held herself only an inch or two above her girlfriend with a half-lidded eye. "Not until you get how important you are to this."

Throwing her arms around her girlfriend's neck, Charlie just sighed. "I love you, Vaggie. You're my rock when things get crazy."

Slowly lowering herself onto her lover's chest, she said with a grin, "Well, being grounded is very important and all, but what do you say I lift you up a little?"

When her kisses started traveling down Charlie's neck, the princess gasped. "W-wait, I just got straightened up for the party! I won't have time to fix it all up again if we… you know…"

Vaggie chuckled as her girlfriend trailed off. Despite being experienced with sex, she still got so awkward about it. Placing herself back above Charlie's face, she smirked. "Oh, fine, I can wait I guess."

"Thank you," Charlie breathed, apologetically. "Let's go downstairs and get things started! I hope all the guests show up, or it'll be pretty empty."

As Vaggie got up to let the princess stand, she growled, "If they aren't, I'll hunt them down myself."


The party was a massive success.

When Vaggie and Charlie arrived downstairs, they gaped in awe of how full the lobby was. Just about every guest brought a friend or two to liven things up. Eliza looked to be intimidating a tall, lanky blue lizard, but when asked about it the therapist informed Vaggie that she wanted to make sure he behaved, since he assaulted her on her first walk in Hell. The moth gave her a warning, but otherwise let it slide in favor of agreeing to keep an eye on the guy.

The princess was beside herself, bouncing from group to group and greeting them all with a broad, happy grin. Her energy freaked some of the newcomers out, but Vaggie's calming influence balanced it out quickly once she caught up with her overjoyed partner.

Angel was helping Niffty with setting out baked treats, cups of juice and napkins. Part of his punishment is to work the entire party, though as long as he didn't shirk his duties he was free to mingle with everyone. The rest of the punishment is that he's grounded, which in this case is basically a form of house arrest. He can't go anywhere without permission, and if he goes to his job he can only go straight there and come straight back, and either Vaggie or Charlie has to be updated regularly via text. Worst of all for him was that he couldn't have any alcohol at all, not even the two drinks that the newly implemented limit allowed.

Eventually, everyone made their way into the stage-room, and the party really picked up. That's also when Alastor finally decided to make an appearance.

"What a lively celebration!" he cheered, appearing behind Charlie and Vaggie without warning and pulling them in by the waist until their cheeks were touching his. Charlie was grinning from ear to ear while Vaggie growled, trying to push away from the invasive overlord. "A remarkable success, wouldn't you agree, ladies?"

"Absolutely!" Charlie agreed, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Finally he released them both, watching gleefully as Charlie had to catch Vaggie before the repulsed moth fell on her rear from pushing too hard. Once her girlfriend was righted again, she squealed happily. "I know we told everyone to tell their friends, but I didn't expect so many of them to show up! This is amazing!"

"Miraculous, even," Alastor teased, smirking down at Vaggie's annoyed glare. "Well come now, my dears! We have many wonderful new guests to… entertain."

"You," Vaggie began, pointing a finger at him in warning, "will behave yourself."

"I'd be more worried about a certain party crasher," he chuckled, pointing with his microphone to something behind the managers. When they both turned, they saw a very familiar blond cyclops strut right in, wearing a white wrap dress with strawberries all over it.

"Oh, HELL NO!" Vaggie snarled, but Charlie grabbed her by the shoulder.

"Wait, Vaggie," she commanded, causing the moth to falter. "I… I want to try this my way this time."

"But hon, she-"

"I agreed to keep her away from the hotel and it didn't help," Charlie told her, firmly. "I know you think my head is in the clouds, but let me do this, OK? Let's do things differently this time."

Vaggie paused, glaring at the cyclops for a moment before giving a reluctant nod. "Alright. We'll do it your way."

"Thank you!" After giving Vaggie a peck on the cheek, she turned and walked over to Cherri with a smile. "Hi there!"

"Oh, hey," she replied, cautiously. Shit, she had hoped to at least find and talk to Angel before she got thrown out. "Look, I'm just here to see Angie, K? Not gonna ruin your shit."

The princess clapped her hands together joyfully. "That's great! Angel's working to make up for the trouble he caused yesterday, so he should be over by the snack tables. Come on." Grabbing one of the cyclops' hands, she dragged her over with a laugh as the woman stumbled along behind.

Vaggie watched the entire scene play out from a distance. From her spot she saw Angel come out to give his friend a hug, begging Charlie to let her stay just to hug the princess when she said yes. What was even more surprising was that, after a moment of talking, the anarchist actually started helping Angel out by carrying drinks around while he handled the snacks. As she watched the princess work her magic, her chest swelled with pride.

"Such a hopeful, naïve creature," Alastor mused in a dark, quiet tone.

Vaggie turned and raised an eyebrow. "What did you say?"

"Nothing important, my dear!" he answered, cheerfully. "Just thinking out loud."

Humming a jolly tune, he walked away with an innocent grin that left Vaggie feeling nervous. The overlord, however, could not help but be amused by the phenomenon that is Charlie's existence. The daughter of the king of demons, denied Heaven by her birth alone. Despite being born into darkness and depravity, she had such a pure, tender soul.

How pitiful.

The music selection seemed to cover all the eras, and Alastor's lip curled in disgust when metal music started to play. Calling it 'music' felt like an insult to the fine arts.

"Is everything alright?"

Eliza's voice pulled him out of his thoughts, and his grin strained slightly. "I will never understand how such noise can be enjoyed as musical art." With a motion of his hand, he silently suggested that they leave the room, mostly to escape the ear-bleeding entertainment.

Eliza giggled, following his suggestion to make their way into the lobby. "Actually, metal and classical music both use comparably complex melodies and countermelodies!"

Alastor looked a little sick as he shut the door, rubbing his temple to relieve the headache that manifested from the tasteless clamor. "Please don't compare a brandy to a beer."

At first, Eliza just thought it was a funny moment, but then she felt a wave of irritation as a thought came to her. "Wait a second, you can understand the concept of comparing vibrations manipulated to be perceived as pleasurable melodies to beverages that inhibit cognitive function, but not comparing the pleasure of killing to sexual gratification?!"

When he looked down to meet her annoyed stare, realization dawned on him. "Oh, is that what you meant?"

"Yes!" she answered indignantly. Then, after a thoughtful moment, she tilted her head and asked in a quieter, more curious tone, "What did you think I meant?"

He looked away, hiding his mouth behind a clawed hand with a blush as his smile became far too small to show in public despite the lobby being utterly empty. "I… am quite accustomed to people trying to suggest that my other oddities are due to certain ineptitudes. To think it was just a simple comparison in the end; how embarrassing!"

A pensive expression came over her as she processed his words. "So you thought I was suggesting that your murderous and cannibalistic tendencies stem from suffering extreme sexual frustration?"

He just stared at her for a moment; how could she say something like that so easily? "Yes."

"...Oh. And your belief that I was suggesting that you only enjoy killing? What made you think that?"

"The fact that every young man my age only seemed to have one thing on their mind for years," he spat in disgust. "As such, it seemed to go without question that I would be the same, in my own deranged way." After a moment, his hand dropped away as he forced the corners of his mouth to rise, though his eyes remained narrowed.

"I thought that sort of thing didn't bother you much," Eliza told him, carefully. "That it was more the impropriety that disturbed you than the topic."

"I don't mind discussing my general disinterest," he specified, "but that doesn't stop the topic from becoming aggravating when that disinterest is called into question."

"I see."

Eliza went quiet for a while, and Alastor began to feel self-conscious. The lobby was still empty, but how much longer would that remain true? "Perhaps it might be best to continue this discussion in a private setting?" he suggested.

"I can't," she sighed. Alastor flexed his left hand as he felt his frustration spike, but then she explained. "My punishment for yesterday is that I have to remain for the entirety of the holiday, and I doubt that Charlie or Vaggie will let me slip away even for a private conversation. Maybe we could talk about it tomorrow? By the time this is all over, I think I'd prefer to decompress alone."

His smile softened as his emotions calmed. "I'm afraid I can't. The end of this holiday is something that many of my fans look forward to. Apparently, it tends to be my most brutal broadcast of the year!"

Eliza's cheeks started to rise as a thought came to her. Alastor waited patiently for her to share her thoughts, but found himself stuck in silence. Finally, he asked, "What are you thinking about?"

"It's… nothing." When she looked away with uncertainty, he felt that frustration return with interest. Did she just lie to him?

That development could not be allowed.

"Now, now," he purred in a warning tone, "I do hope you didn't expect me to believe that. Share your thoughts with me. You've certainly never held back before."

"I didn't know how easily I could offend you before… or how dangerous it can be."

"You're afraid I'll hurt you?" he inquired in surprise. "Come now, have I not proven myself better than that? Surely one misunderstanding isn't enough to damage your bravado, and aside from the pheromone incident, I have never raised a hand against you."

"Well," she began, hesitantly, "since you bring it up, I do have one question about that. In the spirit of keeping an… open dialogue."

A red flag popped up in Alastor's mind, warning him that whatever was coming was going to be very unpleasant. "And that would be?"

Clearing her throat, the therapist straightened up and steeled herself as she held his gaze. "If the pheromone hadn't been a factor, what were you intending to do? It's not as if the pheromone was the point where everything started going downhill; you were already about to threaten me."

There was a pregnant pause as his mind went into overdrive. He hadn't intended to hurt her, so that much wasn't a lie, but he would have likely used intimidation, pressuring her with subtle threats and a show of power, followed by having her tailed by a trusted informant whether she told him what he wanted to know or not. There was no way he could tell her that. "I am a persistent man, but I'm sure you could have convinced me if you had more time. Still, I admit that I would likely continue to give you grief about it for quite some time. While not a jealous man, my rival rightfully makes me… nervous."

She was once again fighting the urge to laugh; he saw that telltale twinkle in her eyes. At least this one emotion she couldn't completely hide no matter how hard she tried. Too bad it wasn't particularly helpful for telling him what she was thinking. Curiously, he inquired, "Did I say something funny, my dear?"

Giving him an embarrassed smile, she said, "I apologize; you didn't say anything funny. It's a contextual thing, in this case."

"You have already kept one thought from me," he reminded her, though he kept his voice as calm as possible, "why torture me again? Surely a hint wouldn't kill you!"

Despite recoiling from his low tone, she looked to the side for a moment as she chose her words. "Let's just say it has something to do with what you said to me before trying to eat me."

His blank expression left her feeling confused as the silence seemed to close in on them. "What?"

"That morning when you attacked me, you said something to me." When he didn't respond, she added, "Do you remember what you said?"

His mind became fringed with panic as he drew a blank. "Give me a moment, please."

Eliza stood in shock as he turned on his heel and marched into the stage-room, not even flinching as rock music assaulted his ears. She stood there awkwardly, every second feeling like a long, torturous minute. This was exactly the situation she was trying to avoid. That small detail was about to start something big, she just knew it.

When he finally returned to the lobby, he walked straight up to her and stood closer than before. "We have been excused for a brief, important chat, my dear." He reached out his hand for hers. "Shall we go somewhere with less risk of interruption?"

"The therapy room," she answered quickly, though she paused before accepting his offered hand.

With a snap of his fingers, the two of them appeared outside the therapy room door. As the therapist retracted her hand quickly, he looked down at the hand that snapped them upstairs. They were supposed to be in the therapy room, not the hallway. Recovering his composure before she noticed, he played it off as part of the plan by opening the door with a flourish. "Ladies first!"

"Thank you," she said, entering with him close behind.

"Now, my dear," he began, cautiously avoiding using a threatening tone to keep her from retreating, "please enlighten me. You see, it is not so much that I don't remember what I said as it is the fact that I don't remember saying anything at all."

Eliza looked deeply embarrassed. "I didn't realize you don't remember any of that, I'm very sorry. But, just so I know, what do you remember?"

"More than I wish," he growled, "but apparently not as much as I thought. I remember pinning you, and…" he turned a little green as the memory of rubbing his face on her neck resurfaced. He wanted to butcher that memory, burn all the pieces of it and scatter it to the wind. "I remember being close enough to bite you. But I… don't remember speaking to you." As he watched her become more and more uncomfortable by the second, he walked over to the couch and sat. He needed to remain calm and not show his temper. This was not a good time to scare her off. "Please, my dear; I need to know what I said. Did I-" he gulped, "-proposition you for something?"

She knew what he was getting at, and suddenly she felt that this whole thing might not be as bad as she feared. "You didn't offer me sex, Alastor."

The sheer relief that crossed his face made her realize that was exactly the answer he wanted to hear. "Gracious, darling, you almost gave me a heart-attack earlier! In that state, I might have offered you, well… anything!"

Blushing slightly, she turned away but never broke eye contact as she told him, "Well, you did, in a way."

"Pardon?"

"You told me that I had no reason to see Vox because you could give me more than he could, or something to that effect."

Alastor went incredibly pale. Had he really said that? "And this… is what made you laugh earlier? Why?"

"Because that's an incredibly jealous thing to say," she explained, fighting against a smile that threatened to show. "And when you said you're not a jealous man, it was kind of funny to me."

Jealous.

"I… think you must have misunderstood, ha," he told her, though his laugh was quite weak compared to his usual bravado. "I do believe jealousy requires a certain level of amorous inclination!"

"No, friends can be jealous of friends," she corrected with a shrug. "It's not unheard of for someone to become jealous of another person taking their friend's attention away, and given your history with Vox, it's really not all that surprising, either."

"I was not jealous!" he objected.

"Alastor, calm down," she commanded. The overlord didn't flinch, but he did pause for a moment. "It's really not a problem. After all, Vox isn't involved, anymore."

'But someone else could be,' Alastor thought, unwilling to put this concern into words. 'You got his attention, who's to say you can't get the attention of another overlord?' He couldn't let her fall beyond his reach; he just couldn't.

"Look," she continued, interpreting his silence as him worrying about the jealousy, "this is a simple thing. Just answer a couple questions, and you'll understand, OK?"

"Very well," Alastor agreed with a brief nod.

"Are you jealous of Angel Dust spending time with Husk?"

"Not at all!" he answered easily. "While difficult to understand, the connection between them is most unexpected and rather fascinating!"

"Do you get jealous of Niffty always flirting with men?"

He chuckled. "My hopeless little maid… who she chooses to pursue is none of my concern. Now, I won't deny occasionally becoming involved when a man proves… unworthy." That last word dipped deep into his demonic tone, and the symbols around his head told her that he's probably made meals out of men for hurting her.

"Last question," she told him, confidently. "Are you jealous of my friendship with Angel?"

There was a pause. She hadn't expected a pause. Why was there a pause? "No," he answered. "Not at all, my dear."

He was lying!

"Good," she said cheerfully, hiding behind her icy wall as she refused to come to terms with that unexpected implication. "Then there's nothing to worry about!"

"And yet we both still seem to be worried," he speculated out loud, a plan forming in his mind. "Perhaps there is something we could do to… alleviate some of this stressful concern?"

'No,' Superego interjected. 'Whatever he says, the answer is no. This is not going to end well.'

'Fuck off, I'm gonna hear him out,' Id argued, shoving the opposing voice away. 'What's he offering?"

"I don't understand," Eliza said, tilting her head curiously. "What are you suggesting?"

"Your outing with Vox made me aware that you're reluctant to give your soul to another," he told her, bluntly. "But perhaps I could offer an agreeable arrangement for it?"

'No!' Superego shouted.

'Shut. It,' Id ordered. 'This could be more helpful than we think, and it sounds like we'll get some say in this.'

Eliza gritted her teeth, amazed and pissed that any part of her considered this possibly agreeable. "Alastor, I do not want to belong to someone."

"Not even if it means I can't hurt you?"

She just gave him a flat, disbelieving stare. "You would offer to own me in return for protection from yourself?"

"Not just myself; everyone!" he told her, standing up with a flourish. "I take very good care of what's mine, my dear. Any vice you want is yours to pursue, and my name is enough to make jobs drop into your lap! I am feared across the West Point, and I would never deny my minions the right to use that to get what they want. Just don't promise anything in my name; that will cause problems."

Eliza's hesitation to answer gave him hope, if only because there was no immediate refusal. He never thought an opportunity like this would present itself so soon. "And what do you want from me?"

"You have many magnificent skills that I wish to put to good use," he said, his tone jubilant as he kept his demands as complimentary as possible. "Your talent for getting the attention of others will be most helpful, both for the hotel and for myself, and your diplomatic inclination is quite rare down here! Your skill with deception is most impressive, and…" he looked away for a moment as he felt a little strange, "I can't deny that I have a slight fondness for your repressed aggressive nature."

Eliza face-palmed in embarrassment. "Oh mercy, you did see it."

"I did indeed; a most magnificent display of playful destruction!" he applauded in shameless flattery. "And I knew I sensed a pull towards cannibalism! Why deny it for so long?"

"Alastor, I don't remember any of it!" she groaned. "I don't even remember the whiskey that apparently sent me over the edge."

Now the overlord's expression shifted to one of immense pity. "You're first taste of flesh, and you can't even remember it? I'm so sorry to hear it! That first time is so very precious and intense."

She would never tell him that, at that moment, she wished Fizz and Angel were here to mercilessly rip into that last statement. The sex jokes would flow like beer at a bachelor party. Mercy knows she could use the distraction of raunchy humor right now. "Please, stop. It's very embarrassing and I would like to stop talking about it."

"Are you truly so ashamed?" he asked, feeling a genuine pang of disappointment.

Eliza hid her face with one hand. "It's embarrassing to get drunk at my first real club, but black-out drunk is just humiliating!"

Oh! That was more promising. "So you're not embarrassed about what you did, but the fact that you were too drunk to remember it?"

She glared at him through her fingers, tendrils snapping left and right behind her back. "Don't you dare mention any of this to Charlie or Vaggie."

"You have my word," he promised, sincerely. "Before we return to our previous topic, I simply must know; how much of your story was actually true?"

Now the glare turned downright incredulous. "I knew it; you were listening!"

"How could I not? It was so very entertaining!"

Eliza wanted to be mad, but she was maxing out on emotional outbursts, so she just sighed. "Nothing I said was a lie. I was dragged out, I didn't want to go to a club, I was lured in with people-watching, and Fizz kept getting me to try tasty drinks until I was wasted. None of it was planned, and if I had my way originally, it never would have happened in the first place."

Alastor felt another wave of jealousy against the porn star, but also that damnable jester. They were able to drag her out to have fun, something he had yet to pull off, and they got to see her lose herself to her first real frenzy in Hell. Damn them! "Well, your drunken state aside, that nature you keep hidden is just as useful as the refined skills you take great pride in. I could point you in a direction, and you would likely handle any situation beautifully! But unless I require your assistance, I would leave you to do as you please, and I will not try to rule your existence with the trappings of providing for your every need. You would not be dependent on me in any way, as I'm sure you would never appreciate such an arrangement."

"You would be correct," she confirmed, flatly. Then another thought occurred to her. "Would this get in the way of my contract with the hotel?"

He chuckled. "Not at all, my dear. That is a business arrangement that in no way interferes with what I'm offering."

As memories of Vox's hand reaching out surfaced, she growled. "You better not be expecting me to just shake on this."

Alastor's smile strained. "Don't insult me, dear. Not all overlords are so foolish."

When a rolled up piece of paper appeared in his hand, Eliza faltered. He already had a contract ready? "Alastor, how long have you had that?"

"It was only recently written," he answered. It was an honest answer, even if he was ignoring the fact that this wasn't the first contract he's written up for her, not to mention the agonizing process he went through just to get it to its current state. "Allow me to make a couple changes, based on what we've discussed."

As he examined his handiwork while occasionally pointing at a section to let a red spark change the wording or add a clause here and there, she seriously considered what this meant. How long has he been planning this? Since the whole situation with Vox? Before Vox? Has every moment they've been together been leading up to this all along? Has he been playing her this whole time?

"There, now it's perfect!" he said, more than a little satisfied to finally have a contract that he felt was adequate. He never thought just talking about it with her would help him perfect it so thoroughly. As he handed it to her, he gave her a playful warning. "Remember to read it carefully! This is your soul we're talking about, ha ha ha!"

As she took a close look at it, it really was much better than she expected. Everything was there; the freedom to do as she pleased, the requirement that she would come to call should he need her services, and the safety from external and internal threats. It also mentioned immunity to the pheromone, which didn't surprise her, as well as assurances that she was not required to spend time with him or share secrets that weren't pertinent to his safety.

Alastor was beside himself as he watched her. He had been so very nervous, and yet her soul was within his grasp. He didn't dare pressure her; remaining relaxed was his only hope, as applying any stress would kill his chances. Finally, his paranoia would be put to rest, and she would be his at last.

What he didn't realize was that there was a war going on in Eliza's head. Fear that their friendship was nothing more than a ploy to lure her into this plagued her as her father's words haunted her.

You'll only eva mean one thing to a man. Don' go thinkin' yer important to 'im.

This was different; he hasn't been planning this. He wouldn't! Besides, her dad was talking about sex, and he doesn't want that either. It hasn't all been a ploy… for her soul.

You'll only eva mean one thing to a man.

This was different.

Don' go thinkin' yer important to 'im.

He was wrong!

No one will ever care about you.

That was her mother's voice, and it nearly threw her over the edge. Desperately fighting a panic that was threatening to take over, she said after a moment, "I need time to think about this."

Alastor's jaw clenched as she used the same stall tactic as she did with Vox, but he would learn from that box of faulty wires. "Take as much time as you need, my dear. As I said, this is a very important decision!"

"Days," she added, quickly. "I need a few days to mull this over. Please."

"As you wish," he agreed, reluctantly. Then, with a snap of his fingers, the line for her signature vanished. Before she could ask, he said, "Feel free to add changes where you deem necessary, but the line won't appear until I've read and agreed to them. Is that acceptable?"

That genuine smile appeared, and he felt a familiar sensation that he had ignored in the past and still refused to dwell on. No one's smile should affect him like that. "Thank you, Alastor."

"You're welcome, my dear!" With that, he walked over to the door and, with a tip of his hat, he added, "I'll be sure to let my co-managers know you'll be along any moment, but as long as they're playing such revolting modern noise, I think I'll retire for the night. Adieu!"

As soon as he closed the door, she fell onto her couch in exhaustion. Sweet mercy, she wanted nothing else to do with the party tonight. She didn't want to be around people, she didn't want to hear love songs of all genres, and she didn't want to spend another moment thinking about this contract.

Unfortunately, she knew she would not be able to escape any of those three things tonight.

As for Alastor, he spoke to Charlie as promised before dismissing himself. It was time to hunt, and he had more than enough frustration to make for an excellent show, even if it stemmed from a different source. Her soul was now just out of his reach, and she was dangling it in his face for the next few days as he awaited her final answer. It made him ravenous, and he planned to use that energy well.

He would not disappoint his devoted fans.


Author's Notes:

Charlie's outfit for the party is based off of her new design. Oh, and speaking of the changes, just know that I am unlikely to address them until they work with the original pilot, such as the family name changing from "Magne" to "Morningstar." I don't really get the point of that change, but she's always been a Magne in my story and I'm not going back to every chapter I've ever used it in to fix it. I'm too lazy for that shit.

And yay, Alastor made his move! Question is: Will it end well?