Nick was angry. He was not of Wrath, so it was not all-consuming, but he was less than pleased in distinct terms. He knew he'd been sandbagged the moment his eyes popped open. The little featherbrain had gotten him good. It was quite a prick to his Pride. The fact that she managed it using his own licentiousness against him only stung more. It reminded him of many things he'd rather stay forgotten. His failures. Rebellion. Punishment. The eternity he'd spent being broken.

Twice.

As he rose, something else intruded upon his mind. A faint sting of divine magic all over his arm and chest, pricking his flesh and memory. He was viciously unhappy at that. Of all the things he despised, and there were a fair few items on that list, memory was right at the top. All that it ever caused was pain. For an instant, a vista of brilliant light and soaring power flitted through his mind, leaving scorching pain in its wake. He did not snarl. He would not give them the satisfaction. The ones who had broken and remade him would never get the vindication that would come of expressing his pain, again. Instead, Nick schooled his features and addressed the source of his most recent troubles.

There wasn't an ounce of repentance in her expression. She gave him space and for good reason. He wasn't fool enough to surpass his collar's limitations, or angry enough for him to forget to keep his secrets. That did not, however, mean he was without options.

Suppressing his dual natures was a simple task after eons of training. All that would show was pure demonic potency as he lifted the veil and let the dribble of power he was allowed filled the room. Shadows thickened to the consistency of treacle. The light strangled under the weight of his will. With black eyes, Nick slowly walked forward. He had no reason to hurry.

For every pace he took, she stutter-stepped back two. She fought to keep her ears up and look him in the face as his power surrounded her. She was trying to be brave. It was quite cute. Admirable, in its own way. He had to give her credit for that. It was a pity she was seconds from oblivion. She would have made an excellent toy, eventually. Alas, now she was certainly doomed. Still, he felt she was owed a chance to have a say. With the meagre possibility that it was a good enough answer, he might let her live just a little longer.

Nick watched with great satisfaction as her heel touched the wall of his room. There was nowhere else for her to go. Watching the realization of that fact appear in her eyes satisfied a small part of the hunger he was now feeling. He pressed the space between them to arm's length. It was perfectly safe for him. Her short sword would be too slow. He could eviscerate her in an instant and she was still too far away to hit him with her taser. Her back was pressed fully against the painted wall. He pulled his power into forms that would be useful in teaching a stupid little angel a fatal lesson and closed her off from any thought of escape.

She was defiant.

A mirthless smile pulled at his mouth, exposing his teeth.

"Little angel, what have you done?"

"What was necessary."

"Suicide is never necessary." Nick was surprised, both for his candor and the fact that his statement caused no fear in the rabbit. She caught that there were other meaning in his words. Meaning he had not meant to express. His glare sharpened and his talons grew. "Explain yourself."

"You're an insufferable ass." Nick blinked. "You wasted the entire day while I worked. And keeping you in check took more effort than the investigating. We made a deal. My information for your support. I'm keeping my end, while you fail to keep yours in any way."

Nick held up his arm, still prickling from the spell. "And this is…?"

"The Truant's Summons."

"A binding."

"Passive at most. It limits your movements in no way whatsoever. It's a spell that will let me know where you are on demand. That way, if I have to waste precious time chasing a bored kit around, at least I'll have a faster way to track your sorry tail down so I can yell at you."

Nick tried. He tried so very, very hard, but the laughter bubbled up and out of him despite his efforts. He howled with it.

"Anything else?"

"You can't lie to me."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You. Can't. Lie. To. Me."

"What if I do anyway?"

"I'll know."

"And?"

"And it'll probably be unpleasant."

Nick felt the joints in his paws crack under the strain of his unconscious flexing. "What is to stop me from breaking your little binding by ending you here and now?"

"You kill me you and you break our deal. That means you suffer the backlash. Now, you're powerful, but you've got that collar on, so I know that your power is sealed at least in some way. I'm figuring that you have a choice. You can kill me, but to avoid the consequences from breaking our agreement, you'd need to take that collar off. If you can, that is. If you do take it off, I think you'll face another set of consequences and neither of those will protect you from the damage from breaking my spell. So, which one do you want? Your only other option is to take your medicine, like a good boy and keep your end of our agreement."

Nick paused. Quickly working over the rabbit's words he realized, much to his vexation, that she was right. He also realized that he was screwed. A predatory smirk curved the fox's muzzle as he took a step back and brought his hands together, over and over in slow applause. "Not such a dumb bunny after all."

He backed away and forced his power back under the veil. He'd been played. Expertly. He had to give the fluffball credit. She didn't have all the details, but she had enough that he could fill in the rest on his own.

"I think it's time for you leave, little angel."

She looked like she wanted to argue. He had to give her credit for that, as well. She was showing more spine than he'd seen in an angel in a very long time. However, the threat carried in his voice was enough to convince her it would not be wise to linger. She'd gotten what she wanted.

She still managed to find the strength for one more shot, though. "We'll meet tomorrow. Nine o'clock."

"I somehow doubt you'll have trouble finding me," Nick sneered and she was gone.

He gently shut the door and leaned his forehead against it.

Nick had not been in a position like this before. Leashed by one master was bad enough. Serving under the fools in Hell had always seen him commanded by a single superior officer. If they had masters breathing down their own scaled neck, it was their issue. He had only ever bowed to one master at a time and they had possessed the good sense to keep it that way for their own safety. Angel or demon made no difference to him. Only one and bowing to powers beyond his control was as far as he could go. Now, he had two and that was intolerable.

His twin hungers tore at him.

As far as demons possessing two Sins went, they did not usually live long. At least, not while maintaining their sanity. The horrors of Hell were enough one time around and each Sin imprinted on the sane survivors needed to meet certain requirements. Gluttony required overindulgence. Wrath, violence. It was an easy pattern to follow. For a demon to possess two Sins meant a dual set of requirements. It was extremely challenging to be of both Sloth and Wrath, as laziness and violence were somewhat mutually exclusive. Feeding one would starve the other, leading to self-destruction or madness.

Nick was fortunate in that regard. The Sin which spawned all others was his, as was so-called the least of them. Pride and Lust. He was very, very lucky to have that particular set of hungers to feed. There was a conveniently broad overlap he could exploit to satisfy both and now, he had to. There wasn't a choice.

Determined on his course of action, Nick marched to his bedroom and struck away the illusion he had placed on a corner of the room. There, under the spell, sat an Elderwood chest older than time as it was measured by mortals. It was large enough to be a spacious coffin for him, should the need arise; black and scarred, but strong enough to give the Devil himself pause at forcing it open. The surface of the wood was carved and gouged in complex patterns that hurt even Nick's mind to look at for long. It had been his companion for many, many years.

In the front of the chest were a series of keyholes. One was occupied. It opened the small compartment that housed Lefty when he wasn't needed. A second small keyhole next to it was unoccupied and that one he addressed.

Drawing a talon down the underside of his arm, Nick exposed a small metal disc. He ripped it from his flesh without preamble. Licking his fluids from it, Nick slotted it into the space beside the empty keyhole and turned it. A hidden compartment popped open on the side. Nick pulled several Lucifers from the stash there and closed the compartment up before returning the disc to the wound. He rasped his tongue across the injury to seal it and sparked a bit of flame to speed the healing. Then he grabbed his coat, tossed another illusion over the chest and collected his phone, wallet and other bits. Lefty stirred restlessly on his wrist and Nick stroked him. He disliked upsetting his companions and they could all feel it. Their voices thrummed in his mind.

Sparking a cigarette, Nick left his hotel, but not before he placed heavy barrier spells over the room and alarm spells throughout the halls. If anyone neared his residence, he would know. Not that anyone who attempted to touch his things would survive it. He just had enough to worry about and disposing of corpses was a distraction he didn't need.

Mammals cut him a wide berth as he made his way down the sidewalk. That usually happened when Nick decided to move with a purpose. He moved in a straight line to where he knew he'd find his target. He had to have a chat with a certain little imp.

"I need something."

"Course you do," Finnick slurred. "Else you wouldn't be here."

"I see you finally managed to get drunk."

"Yeah. And I finally got the taste of seeing you out of my mouth. Now, I've gotta start all over, again."

"Burdens we must bear."

"Pfft. Why don't you take your false nonchalance and shove it? I know you're pissed. I felt you coming ten minutes ago." The petite demon slammed the empty stein hard enough to crack it. "What's that? You're not taking the joke set up?"

"Not in the mood."

"Not in the mood huh? Aren't you always in the mood? What happened to get your panties in a bunch? Did you find the one female in reality that wouldn't fuck you as soon as they looked at you? Did someone get one over on the big shot for a change? Or did you finally just go limp?"

Nick snarled, "Enough games." And ripped the veil off his power. His presence slammed into the world around him.

His Collar glowed weakly in the light indicating it was active, but Nick paid it no mind. It wasn't even close to yielding. The mortals nearby, however, yielded. Some merely blacked out and slumped onto tabletops or the floor. Others moaned and trembled as their bodies surrendered to pleasures they couldn't control on their way to oblivion. A few with stronger constitutions managed to resist for a moment, but ultimately caved and joined the rest of the bodies twitching or lying catatonic on the floor. Once the room was effectively clear, Nick turned to the one being left who remained conscious. Focusing his power, Nick slammed a hammer blow into the drunken lesser demon.

"Are you done laughing, now?" All Finnick could do was gasp for air and feebly strain against the wave of overwhelming power and desire pummeling his mind. "No? I know you'd tell me if you were, Finny. Let me help you decide."

Suiting action to words, Nick dragged a single finger along the fennec fox's jawline. The recipient of his attention started to convulse as his eyes rolled up in his head and his body writhed with agonizing pleasure.

Nick hummed thoughtfully. "I think you're too drunk to make an informed decision, my friend. Let me help you sober up."

Finnick managed to squeak a "No", but Nick shushed him with another finger on his lips. Finnick convulsed in rapture again at the touch.

"Hush now, little imp. That's an order." Yellow flame summoned from within built up in Nick's throat. In a voice that was half purr, half-growl Nick said, "Don't faint." And kissed him.

The hellfire poured out of the greater demon, scouring the lesser from the inside out. The alcohol was burned away as was nearly everything else. Every vein and fiber felt its touch. Agony and ecstasy twined together and twisted rapture poured through him even as the evidence dribbled down his legs. To Nick it was only a peck on the lips, but to Finnick it may as well have been days. When Nick released him to slump on the floor, he had no will to fight left.

Nick poured himself a bourbon while he waited for Finn to recover. When he did, there was nothing but short, mocking humor in the red fox's voice.

"Are you ready to listen now, you obnoxious little creature?"

Shakily, Finnick croaked out, "What do you want?"

"The rest of my gear and the relics being held for me."

"That's impossible. You don't have the power. They didn't give you the Coins to pull that off."

Nick pulled four of the Lucifers from his pocket and let them fall into the imp's lap. It was clear the little fox had never seen four of the coins at the same time before. Wonderment made his voice a breathy whisper.

"How?"

"Not your concern," Nick stated as he held up a fifth Coin so it caught the light. Seeing Finnick follow the movement, he continued. "And this one is yours, if you can get my things to me by midnight and quietly."

Finnick nodded mutely.

Pleased at the results, Nick slipped the Coin into his pocket and hopped down from his barstool. He heard his little helper stand and stagger behind the bar. He knew the imp would be skipping his preferred beer in favor of harder alcohol, but Nick didn't care. As long as he got what he wanted, it'd be worth the price. Now, he had to deal with his hungers and he knew just how to do it. Pulling out his phone, he dialed a certain little vixen he knew from earlier in the week. If he played his cards right, and he almost always did, he'd be fed, help with the investigation as agreed, and teach Hopps a much-needed lesson.

The grin on his features was rapacious as he heard the call connect.

"Nicky? It's been days. I was hoping you'd call sooner."

"Sorry, sweetheart. I've had a rough day or two. Want to help me destress a bit?"

"I'll be there as soon as I can."

The line went dead. He knew across town somewhere, there was a vixen excusing herself from dinner with her husband. She'd make some excuse. If she was smart she'd use something to mask the desire that was obviously going to be hanging around her like a cloud. It wasn't as though Nick cared about what her husband thought. It would just take less time if she didn't get in a fight while she tried to get out the door. For as much as he needed to feed and teach the angel a lesson, he also did need to destress. He wanted ample time to take care of both.

Several hours later, Nick sat in his room. A half empty bottle of mineral water sat next to a lowball close at hand. A cherry red ember on the end of a cigarette was the only light in the room as it smoldered under a faint layer of ash. He was rolling a coin over his knuckles. As he made his digits nimble, he ruminated. His meal was done. The mortal he'd made use of had left some time ago. The mental suggestions he'd placed in her mesmerized mind would see her play her part the next day with little risk of failure.

Finnick had earned his Coin. The pint-sized irritant had shown up before midnight, as ordered, with everything Nick had demanded and even a little change. He'd added it to the payment assuring the imp's silence and complicity. The one Lucifer was more than an imp like Finnick had ever seen in one place and would possibly buy him a promotion. It could also vanish into a tart's purse, but that was his issue. Nick had more pressing concerns than his subordinate's proclivities.

Once his dinner had been shooed out of his space, he'd addressed the large oilcloth package and small chest Finnick had brought him. Quite a bit of time was spent working over his armor, weapons and relics in preparation for the rest of his plans. They weren't necessary just yet and he'd intended to reacquire it all at some point, anyways, but that damn angel had changed his timetable. There were the items still held ransom alongside his rank, but that was another matter. Once all his personal effects were cleaned, sharpened and properly cared for, they went into his chest and Nick felt much more in control of his reality. At least he had a few backup plans to rely on and an Imp who owed him.

The angel would pay for what she had done.

The angel would fall.

Judy sat miserably in her favorite coffee shop. The bourbon and Adrenalin swirled uneasily in her blood as she sipped her tea and struggled not to make herself feel any worse. There was a better way for her to have handled that. There had to have been one. She was disgusted with herself for a number of reasons, not the least of which was her failure to put the effort into finding one.

His anger had been justified. She had expected it and prepared her arguments against anything he could say. She'd trapped him and they both knew it. She had known he'd be furious and been prepared to face him down. She hadn't been prepared for the look in his eyes when he told her to get out. The fury was thick enough to cut with a knife, but it was the tiny spark of hurt that got to her. She was disgusted with herself for causing that hurt. Almost as much as she was at feeling so guilty over harming a demon. She'd slaughtered hordes of them over the years, but somehow that was different. She could wipe out millions of the insane beasts without batting an eye, but the one that could sit across from her and be civilly rude had her feeling terrible.

"Excuse me, miss?"

Judy jumped and looked up, her paw flying to the hilt of the dagger concealed at her hip. The huge, rotund face looking down at her froze wide eyed at her reaction. It was a cheetah. A really fat cheetah.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to startle you." A really sweet, fat cheetah.

"No! I'm sorry. You, um..." Judy sagged. "You startled me, but that doesn't excuse my overreaction. I apologize."

The big cat smiled. "Think nothing of it. I'm Just glad you didn't pepper spray me."

Judy blushed a little in embarrassment. She hadn't been subtle about reaching for a weapon and she was glad mortal minds interpreted divine implements in such convenient ways. She had reached for it, but not drawn and he'd seen pepper spray instead of a divine blade. Small blessings. She pulled her paw away from the weapon and wiggles her fingers to show it was empty.

"Are you ok?" he repeated. "You seem a little jumpy."

"I... No, not really."

"Did you want to talk about it?"

"I don't know you."

"We can fix that." He held out his paw, extending two fingers for her to shake. "Benjamin Clawhauser."

"Judy Hopps," she replied, taking his paw. "Why do I feel like I know you?"

"I hear that a lot," he replied with a chortle. "But it may have something to do with the fact that I work at the ZDP."

"The front desk sergeant. Of course. I should have realized."

"No worries! You've only been in a couple times when I've been on duty and you're clearly distracted. I'm good at remembering faces." The big cat slipped into the chair opposite her and settled in. "So, what has a cute little bunny like you looking so down and reaching for a perfectly legal concealed weapon?"

She wanted to reprimand him for using that word, but she had bigger problems on her mind. She couldn't lie. Any dishonesty would conflict with her vows and she would suffer. She also had her cover to worry about. As far as the desk sergeant would be concerned, she was a special liaison to a nameless government agency, brought in for a special task force directly under the chief's command.

"Nothing requiring an investigation, officer," she said with a weak smile.

"So why the pepper spray? Is it a guy?"

"Yes...? Sort of..."

"Does this sort-of guy have a name?"

"Nick. He's a... colleague. I haven't known him that long." She wasn't telling the fullest truth, but her vow wasn't causing her to white out in pain. It made her feel strangely appreciative of the fox, to use his term for what they were when he'd been lying to Candi at the diner. She decided to follow his lead, just this once.

"Oh... So, what happened?"

Judy shook herself. "Yeah. I've been working with him for less than a day and… I don't know. I feel very conflicted."

"What did you do?"

"Ugh... I did something I'm not proud of." Once she started she couldn't stop herself. "He was such a jerk. He's rude and conceited. He may have reason for thinking so highly of himself, but it's just so damnably grating. All day, I had to babysit him and do most of the work. He barely contributed at all. He was hours late meeting me. He offered his help, but it feels like he's just coasting along. I was completely justified in everything I said and did."

"If he's that rude, I think a little payback is justified, especially if you're supposed to be working together."

"We are, but... I feel guilty for it. He deserved it, but I feel like I did myself a disservice in stooping to that."

"Why?"

"At lunch I had an... episode. I fainted and got a bloody nose. He caught me before I fell. He got across the table and kept me from getting hurt or choking. He actually looked concerned. It was kind of him."

"He's blowing hot and cold, huh?"

"That's one way to put it."

"So, you were heavy handed with him. An apology should fix that."

"I can apologize, but..."

"Alright. What's actually the problem?"

"The problem is he's intimidating and terrifying when he's angry, but despite being furious he gave me a chance to have my say and listened. No one's done that before. He's the first person to pay attention when I spoke and hear me out. Once I made my point, he was still angry, but he never raised his voice or laid a paw on me, despite the fact that I probably deserved both."

"You did a little more than tell him off, didn't you?"

Judy nodded miserably. "What I did wasn't kind. If he steps out of line again, he won't like the results and it's his own fault. We made a deal and he's barely kept his end of it. All I did was assure I'd get what I was owed."

"This guy must be a real piece of work."

Judy was torn. "I'm under no illusions. The guy is a bastard. The problem is I need him. He isn't the sort of person that works well with authority, or is even remotely on the up and up, but he is the best chance we have of resolving this case quickly and cleanly. The chief…

"Is the Chief. I get it. So, what's the problem?"

"What I did to Nick was low, but justified and I suspected something like it would end up being necessary, no matter what. I still think I owe him an apology, for my own conscience's sake, if nothing else."

Clawhauser chewed his words over very carefully before he responded. "That's not all there is to it, is it? I understand wanting to apologize, but if he deserved it then it would be simple. You'd do what you had to, say you were sorry, but make it clear it was necessary and that would be the end of it. He'd get over it eventually. What about this has you torn up?"

"Something about him bothers me. He's done and said a few things that makes me wonder if there's more to him than what I've seen. The trouble is, he was distant before I slammed him. Now, I doubt he'd trust me with anything personal. I may have blown my chance."

"Maybe you have. Maybe you haven't. There's only one way to find out."

In the early hours of the morning, Judy sat on her bed and tried to ease her mind. She was getting too good at not being honest. She'd told Clawhauser enough to help him understand, but danced just outside lying, or telling the truth. It had been dancing in the infinite grey space between black and white. Once upon a time that space had been a line thinner than an atom. But now…

It'd been too easy to imitate the demon's methods. Too easy by far. Her thoughts returned again to him and her own self-inflicted plight. Equivocating in her chat with her new felid friend was a minor thing. Her conversation with Nick before he threw her out was not. She'd told Nick that his lying to her would result in unpleasantness, but hadn't explained how. His anger when he'd come to was suffocating and she hadn't possessed the wherewithal to finish explaining. If she had, he would almost certainly have ended her, despite the price of losing his arm to the binding as the cost.

The Truant's Summons. A horribly misnamed spell for something so significant and ancient. Used by the High Host originally as a means of watching over recruits on the battlefield, it had changed over time. Now, it was much more potent.

Judy looked mournfully at her own arm and the mark of the spell as it manifested on her. A twining sleeve, similar to the one that had glowed on Nick's fur, but so different. Where his mark was gold on russet, her grey fur was stained black and patterned in ragged angles; a sign of who she was bound to. It was smaller than his, only reaching her elbow, but that was a further condemnation to her. She felt sick as she looked at it.

Deals with a demon, equivocation and now the perversion of a Divine Bond. Necessity had driven her down a path paved in good intentions. The sayings told her where it led, but for the first time, the reality of had come home to her. She could only hope there was time to correct her course and if not, that she would find the strength to accept the consequences.