III
"The opposite of life is not death, it's indifference." - Elie Wiesel
New York City.
The city that never sleeps.
The Empire State.
Concrete jungle where dreams are made of.
You get the picture.
Throughout her afterlife, Emma had always done her best to avoid Manhattan. For such a tiny island, the city was a breeding ground for all types of riff-raff. She wasn't sure if it was the pace, or the people, but demons flocked to New York from all across the world. All that dark energy put Emma incredibly on edge.
Will Scarlet threatened to be the straw that broke the camel's back.
He had seemingly made it his life's mission to grate on every last nerve she had. It had started on the train ride up, when he'd fallen asleep on her shoulder fifteen minutes after they'd pulled away from Boston. She'd pushed him off several times, but he always seemed to work his way back over to her. Then, when he'd finally awoken from his slumber, he had insisted upon playing an idiotic game he had made up; "Sinner or Saved." It consisted of Will picking out other passengers who he thought he could corrupt, and Emma then deciding if she could save them or not. Emma, of course, had refused to play, so it was mostly Will talking to himself.
"Come on then, Angel. You always such a downer?" he'd asked after his fifth round with himself.
Emma had debated simply not giving him a response, but had cracked when he'd given her a goading smirk. "I don't think making snap judgements about humans, deciding their fate without knowing them, is fun. Maybe that makes me a downer, but then I never really cared much for the opinion of a demon," she'd growled.
Will had quirked an eyebrow. "Didn't mean to upset you, darlin'. I'm just tryin' to bond with ya, seein' as how the two of us are goin' to be spendin' a lot a time together."
"Like hell," Emma had ignored the slight sting when she'd said the word. "Under no circumstances are you and I going to be spending a lot of time together. We're going to go get this Killian Jones guy, and then we're getting back to Boston and never seeing each other again." Another thought had quickly crept into the back of her mind. She had leaned a little bit closer, invading his personal space just enough to make him uncomfortable. She'd narrowed her eyes and cocked her head. "While we're chatting though, do you want to tell me what you were doing at the hospital that day?" she'd asked. Her tone had been light, but she'd made sure that the threat was still there. She'd asked a question, and they both knew there was no way she wasn't getting an answer. Will's face had darkened, which had prompted Emma to push on. "Did you know I was there? Did Regina send you?"
Will had studied her for a long time, so long that Emma had begun to grow worried. The adrenaline had begun rushing through her veins, and she had nearly gone into an ethereal state, before he had finally spoken. "I wasn't there for ya. Had no clue you were even in the buildin' until I was on me way out."
"And you just decided to pop by?"
Will had shrugged. "Call it the demon in me, but I wanted to see if I could cause a stir. Didn't really mean no harm."
And for some reason, Emma had believed him. That still left one question, though. "So, why were you there in the first place?"
Will had paused and seemed to make a decision, a small smile working its way back onto his face. "You been asking me a lot of questions. Tell ya what, I answer this, and I get to ask you one question. Can be any question I want, and you have to answer it truthfully." He had extended his hand. "Deal?"
Emma had known she was walking a fine line. Demons were not bound by their word, but when angels struck up a deal, they had to follow through. Didn't matter how long it took, they couldn't back out. She wasn't sure what the punishment was, but some long buried survival instinct told her it would be bad. In spite of all this, she'd taken Will's hand. "Deal."
The demon had smirked, then, "I was visiting me sister."
"Your sister? You have living family?" Emma had asked.
"Don't sound surprised, Angel. You have a son," Will must've seen something flicker in her eyes at the mention of her son, because he'd added, "Regina told me. No need to worry about me, I'm all bark no bite."
Emma had smiled in spite of herself. "How old is she?"
"Just turned twenty," Will had answered, his face falling.
If his sister was only twenty, Will must not have been that old. How long ago had he died, and, more importantly, why had he taken the dark path? "Why is your sister in the hospital?"
Will had flinched. "That is a tale for another day."
Emma had accepted his answer. "Right. Well what's your question then?"
He'd acted like he was mulling it over; waiting an agonizingly long time before he said; "I think I'll save it." Will had said it in a way that was clearly meant to goad her; he had been issuing a challenge. He'd given her a toothy grin as he leaned back in his seat, clearly very satisfied with himself.
Emma had started, unprepared for that. "What? That wasn't part of the deal." She'd felt her defenses going back up as she remembered what she was dealing with.
He had seemingly read her mind, because he'd leaned in so their faces were nearly touching, enjoying Emma's obvious discomfort. "Don't ya know, Bird," he'd whispered. "Never make a deal with a demon."
OOO
"Emma!" Will called, voice breaking her out of her reverie.
Maybe it was because she was a mother, but she could already tell he was going to complain. "What," she snapped as she weaved between bodies on 9th Avenue.
Will didn't disappoint. "How much farther? My feet hurt. Why didn't we take a cab?"
Emma rolled her eyes. She had made him walk the thirty blocks from Penn Station to the hotel Killian Jones was at. The main reason was that she didn't feel like sharing another confined space with Scarlet. The other, more selfish, reason, was that she really wanted to torture him, and he didn't seem like the walking type. She was right. He wasn't. "We're only a couple blocks away, Will. You'll make it," Emma called over her shoulder. Sure enough, she could see the all glass skyscraper, the Time Warner Center, which housed the hotel they were heading to; the Mandarin Oriental, looming overhead. It had begun raining as soon as they'd arrived in New York, and the building gave off a foreboding vibe against the grey sky.
Will huffed behind her. "Yeah, but I haven't fed in days."
A demon's feeding consisted of sucking the life out of a human, or rather, taking a piece of their soul. Demons typically surrounded themselves with human lackeys who allowed The Fallen to feed on them at their leisure. They were known as animae in the supernatural community, which roughly translated to "souls" in Latin. Every time a demon took a soul, every time they sucked away a memory, or a personality trait, a human became less… human. After a few years, there was nothing left for a demon to feed on, so the animae were typically discarded. Emma had seen a couple of anima who had reached the end of their usefulness at Regina's place. Their bodies looked as though a strong breeze would blow them away, and their faces held no signs of life. They looked like the worst kind of drug addicts.
As an angel, Emma could detect the various degrees of light and dark within creatures. Angels were basically big beacons of light. Some, like Mary Margaret, shone brighter than others. Demons, on the other hand, were walking balls of dark energy, which is what made Emma and other angels avoid them, and vice versa. Humans could hold varying degrees of light and dark, and where angels and demons were relatively fixed in their levels (except, of course, when an angel made the transition to the dark, but that was a whole other can of worms), humans could be swayed one way or another. That's where the war between demons and angels stemmed from; both were constantly fighting to drag humans to their respective sides. It was an ageless war, but one that had to be fought.
That's what was most depressing about the animae. They had nothing. They weren't good, they weren't bad, they didn't hold any light or dark energy. Everything was just blank. It repelled Emma in ways that even demons did not. They were mindless drones; the life had literally been sucked out of them. The icing on the cake was that demons had the option to feed on those who were dying. People who were already on their way to a better place, and wouldn't be affected. Most chose not to though, because apparently the more lively the soul, the more potent the feed, and they'd never take into consideration the lives they were altering.
Maybe that's why Emma's blood boiled at Will's comment. Maybe she was just at her limit, but she quickly whipped around and jabbed an angry finger into his chest. "Pardon me if I don't have much sympathy for your plight. Complain again and I can promise you, you'll regret it." As if to prove her point, thunder boomed overhead, and the rain seemed to come down a little bit harder.
Will seemed surprised at her outburst. For all their back and forth, he'd never seen Emma genuinely angry. He gave her a sharp nod. "Understood, Angel," he said, before skirting around her and heading towards the hotel.
Emma almost felt bad. It wasn't his fault that she was so on edge. She vowed to at least attempt to be civil with him the rest of their trip. They were on the same side, after all, despite their… differences. Emma sighed. "Will," she called as she jogged after him.
The young demon turned around; he'd reached the entrance of the hotel. He was wearing a smile, and Emma was grateful nothing seemed to phase him. "This is it. Can you feel it?"
Sure enough, as soon as she landed beside him, Emma felt her stomach drop to her feet. She could taste bile rising in her throat, and the hair on the back of her neck raised. She could feel the two familiar points of pressure on her shoulder blades where her wings were instinctively pushing to come out. Whatever was waiting for them on the inside was going to be bad. "Let's do this," Emma sighed.
Will looked over at her. He appeared to be thriving off the energy that was making Emma uneasy. His face fell ever so slightly as he noticed her obvious discomfort. "Nothing's going to happen to ya, Emma. We're just 'ere for a chat," he reassured.
Emma gave him a nod. "I just want to get it over with," she replied as she went to go inside.
"And we will," he said before he tugged her backwards by her arm. Emma gave him a questioning glare. "But first, you need to change. They're not going to let you past the first checkpoint dressed like that."
Emma scoffed. "My clothes are just fine."
"No they aren't. Jones has demons everywhere; you won't get past the lobby. We need to… distract them from the fact that you're an angel. Once you get up to Smee, his right hand, that's when the real work begins," Will explained.
Emma rolled her eyes; she knew exactly how Will planned on distracting them. "And where do you suggest we find me new clothes?"
Will smiled and began to pull her further down the street. "It's New York City, Birdy. I'm sure we'll find something."
OOO
American Apparel is what they found.
She was currently decked out in some skintight, latex red dress with black, stripper heels to match. The ensemble would've been bad enough had it actually fit her properly, but Will had insisted she wear something that was two sizes too small. So, now her boobs were pushed up to her chin, she was one step away from a nip slip, nothing was left to the imagination, and she couldn't move.
She was going to murder him.
He'd been right though, she looked like a prostitute, but the outfit had done the trick. She'd shuffled into the Time Warner Center's ground floor, and all the demons on post had lost the ability to speak, let alone put up a fight. Typical, that he'd only have men working. Never send a man to do a woman's job.
"Nice work, Angel," Will praised with an unabashedly amused grin as they rode the elevator up to the top floor where Jones was staying.
Emma resisted the urge to punch him. "Normally, I'd yell at you, but I'm losing oxygen to the brain, so I'm going to refrain."
"Lucky me," Will laughed before his expression turned somber. "As soon as the doors open, we're going to be in the thick of it. The boys downstairs were amateurs, the people up here are going to be the real deal. I'm going to try and track down Smee immediately, but it's possible we may be stopped before then. Just play dumb and let me do the talking," the demon explained as he gripped Emma's forearm tightly. They'd agreed that it would be best if he manhandled her to give the appearance that she was weak. "And Emma," Will said, mouth setting in a grim line. She wasn't used to seeing him so serious. "You cannot go into an ethereal state. No matter what happens, they can't think you're a threat. If they do, it doesn't matter how well-connected you are, it doesn't matter if you're Regina's favorite person, they will kill you. He will kill you."
She didn't have time to respond, she didn't even have time to process his words because the elevator doors were opening.
He hadn't been lying. Whereas the demons downstairs had looked like teenage band groupies, the two men standing in front of her looked like Marines. They instantly stiffened when the two of them came off the elevator, eyes skipping right past Will and landing on her.
She didn't know what she'd expected. That they'd simply not realize what she was? Any hope of that was gone as soon as their harsh gazes met her own. They hated her on sight; it was their nature. Maybe it was because she'd been spending time with Will, who was so unfazed by it all, that she'd forgotten the most basic instinct the divine community possessed.
Hate what you're not.
Luckily, Scarlet seemed like he'd been prepared for their reaction. He sauntered right up to them with an irritating amount of confidence. Emma did her best to look confused and stumble along, as though she had no idea what she was doing there.
"Looking for Smee," he said as though it was the most natural explanation in the world as to why an angel would be here.
One of the guards, the beefier of the two (his neck appeared to be the same width as his shoulders), eyed them skeptically. "What business do you have with him?"
Will's grip on Emma's arm tightened. "That's classified information. If you could just point me in his direction, I'd be very appreciative."
Emma watched as the two demons exchanged a glance, and then they began to slowly advance forward. "Unless you can tell me exactly why you're looking for Mr. Smee, I suggest you leave. We don't take well to Birds," the meat-headed demon spat. The message was clear, they were not welcome, and they'd be removed by force if necessary.
Emma was beginning to grow agitated and instinct was kicking in. She knew he could feel her tension, and she assumed he'd get them out of there. To her surprise, Will did not back down. "Listen up, gents. This concerns three people. Me, Mr. Smee, and Hook," Will hissed the last name as though it were a curse. Emma had been unaware that that was what he was referred to in his own circle, but it explained the murder victim's tattoo. Regina must've given Will that piece of information. Will quickly continued, "So if you want to go in there and tell The Boss why you're holding me up, go right ahead. Although, I think we all know how that's going to go for the two of you."
Emma had yet to see Will's "dark side". Maybe it was because he was young, maybe it was because he was just better at hiding it than others, but Will Scarlet still had a little light left in him.
But here, in the hallway of a hotel in New York City, Emma couldn't see any light in him. He was all darkness, and he had enough in him to rival the men in front of her. If she was confused as to how someone as seemingly carefree as Will was a demon, she wasn't anymore.
This was also the first time she would understand just how much power Hook held over those who knew him. As soon as Will merely mentioned his name, the other two demons grew nervous. When they finally pointed them in the direction of Smee, Room 2660, she was amazed that the men were more afraid to question Hook and be wrong, than let an angel walk around freely.
As soon as they were out of sight, Will let out an audible sigh of relief. "Nice work," Emma muttered, still tense from their encounter.
The demon was clearly feeling the same. "We're not in the clear yet," he whispered as he shoved Smee's door in.
He was sitting at a large, ornate wooden desk. In fact, the desk was the only thing in the sizable hotel room. Papers were scattered all over the surface and the man in question sat hunched over, studying them intently. Emma and Will stood there for an unusually long time before Smee finally glanced up at them. His jaw quickly went slack as he took in two figures in front of him, and for a while, the only expression on his face was surprise. Emma knew how he felt.
William Smee was not what she'd been expecting.
He was a small, portly man with soft features. He had an old, grimy red beanie pulled over his head, and his beard appeared to have a few crumbs in it (what he had been eating, she could not imagine, since demons didn't need to eat…). He looked like a younger, shorter Santa Claus.
All that would've been good and well, demons came in all shapes and sizes, but there was something about this man that was decidedly non-threatening. Which was surprising, given his ranking in Hook's inner-circle. Clearly, Jones had a considerable amount of faith in Smee's ability to take care of business, so maybe Emma was missing something.
There was something vaguely rat-like about the man gaping at her.
"Wha? What are you? Who are you?" Smee stuttered as he waved a pudgy finger between the two of them.
Will laughed. "Eloquent as ever, Smee." He dropped Emma's arm and made his way over to Smee, clearly enjoying how flummoxed the other demon was.
That piqued Emma's curiosity long enough to quell her anxiousness. "Do you two know each other?" she asked as Will perched himself on the edge of the desk. Maybe it was the fact that Smee was just not an intimidating person, but she was beginning to feel a bit more in her element. She leaned against the door and crossed her arms over her chest, a silent warning that no one was leaving until she had what she needed.
"Smee and I know each other informally, so to speak. We've shared the occasional late night phone call when our bosses needed to coordinate, but this is the first time we've met in person," Will explained, the smile never leaving his face as Smee's face looked more and more confused.
That caught his attention. Smee slammed both hands onto the desk and stood up. Emma could tell that, if she was standing next to him, he'd barely clear her shoulders. "Who are you?" Smee repeated.
Will extended a hand, ignoring the other demon's obvious irritation. "Will Scarlet," Smee's eyes widened in recognition before Will gestured to Emma. "That angel over there is Emma Swan, she's with Boston PD. We're here to see Hook."
If Smee had been confused before, he certainly wasn't now. In fact, his face had the same sour expression everyone else's did when Regina was brought up. "Ms. Mills sent you," Smee sighed as he sat back down at his desk.
Will nodded. "You lot weren't being very accommodating, so we decided to pay you a visit. Now you know how Regina can be when she doesn't get her way, so I suggest you take us to see Hook."
Smee gave the pair a sneer. "You can tell Regina that Hook says to shove it; he could care less what she wants." Smee smirked when Will's face fell. He had clearly anticipated Regina's name having some sort of weight. "I'm going to advise the two of you to leave, before I get someone to throw you out."
Emma watched as Will turned to her wearing a defeated expression, and she knew he said to let him do the talking. She knew he told her not to get involved. She knew she was in way over her head.
She knew all that.
So she couldn't explain why her feet carried her over to Smee's desk. She couldn't explain why she leaned over, stopping only when she could smell the scent of death on his breath. She couldn't explain why she said, "Take us to Hook," in a soft whisper, voice sickly sweet.
She really couldn't explain why he silently leapt up and did just that.
OOO
Divine beings had considerable influence over human action. They could get them to do their bidding with a wave of their hand. It was only when a human possessed abundant amounts of free will, when they were completely dead-set in their ways, that things became a little dicier. Angels typically only used this ability in dire circumstances, demons, per their nature, utilized the power more frequently. Their was only one rule, or, rather, one limitation, to the ability. It didn't work on other members of the community.
At least, that's what Emma told herself as she followed a dazed Smee down the hotel hallway. When she'd spoken to him, when she'd told him what to do, she had felt the familiar push-pull that came with using the power of influence. Smee had certainly acted as though he were in the trance. But that was impossible.
So when Will grabbed her arm and whispered "What did you do?" in her ear as they walked, she simply shrugged.
"Maybe it was my boobs," she replied with a smirk.
"I doubt it, but good show," Will laughed quietly, elbowing her in the ribs.
Smee led them to the end of the hallway, and wordlessly pulled out a key card when they reached a door marked "Presidential Suite". He held open the door and gestured for them to enter, following right behind them, before slamming the door shut.
Twelve pairs of eyes landed directly on her.
All the demons in the room appeared to be in varying states of intoxication. They were in a sitting room that, she assumed, connected to the Master Bedroom. Bodies were sprawled out over ornate looking furniture, and in a chair to her right was a very famous aging rock-star. A wooden table sat at the back of the room between two french doors that was covered in top-shelf liquor. The oriental rug beneath their feet had probably been beautiful at one point, but was now stained with alcohol, blood, and God only knows what else. It didn't go unnoticed that 80% of the people in the room were women. Women who were dressed in ways that put her own ensemble to shame.
The lion's den was, more or less, a brothel.
She scanned the faces of the few men in the room, trying to figure out which one was him. Hook. They all seemed too old, or too young, or too not what she was picturing. Granted, Smee had surprised her, but none of them seemed right. None of them seemed -
"Well, would you look what the light dragged in," a voice called.
Emma whipped her head to the left, and Holy Mother of Leather there he was, standing in the doorway to the master bedroom. He was looking at her, only her, with a smirk that didn't meet his kohl-rimmed, startlingly blue, eyes. Jet black hair had been swept slightly to the side, so that it didn't hang in his eyes, and he had just the right amount of scruff. She wasn't being melodramatic about the leather either; he was decked out in it, from his pants, to his jacket. Speaking of pants, his clung to his form so snugly, she wasn't confident she'd be able to fit in them. They'd make quite the pair side by side, both in their skin-tight outfits. He was also wearing a black, button-down, which wasn't doing much in terms of coverage, because he'd only done the bottom three buttons. It did give her a nice view of his chest, so she wasn't complaining, per se. His left hand was covered in various gaudy rings, but that wasn't the real show-stopper. No, what really set Emma on edge was his right hand. Or, should she say, right hook. His right arm ended in a glistening, silver hook, which is clearly where he'd gotten his name. Clever. Why he'd chosen that attachment was something she'd probably never find out, but she guessed it wasn't a story she wanted to know.
He was gorgeous. He was also incredibly dangerous.
Hook was the carnal manifestation of sin, she was sure of it.
She knew demons were meant to be attractive, as to lure in humans, but he seemed excessively good-looking. It almost didn't seem fair, and she couldn't help but imagine how beautiful he'd been before he'd fallen, before bitterness and hate had touched him. But, Emma had never been one to let a pretty face veer her off her course of action, so she lifted her chin and looked him dead in the eyes. "Hook," she nodded.
The demon in question looked her up and down; sizing her up. Just then, a small blonde woman slinked out of the bedroom. She paused in the doorway and handed Hook a glass of rum. The female demon looked at him, waiting for some sort of acknowledgement, but Hook's eyes never left Emma, so she quickly sulked off. "So," Hook started in his soft British accent as he began to saunter over to Emma. She didn't back down. "Do you want to tell me how you got in here?" Hook's eyes darted over to Smee, who was seemingly coming out of his trance, because his face was growing more and more horrified.
"I don't know what came over me, Sir. I don't know why I brought them. I don't know what happened," Smee stuttered.
Hook cut him off with a sneer and a wave of his hand. "Do you know anything, Smee?" Hook snapped.
"No, Sir."
"That's what I thought," Hook sighed before turning his attention back to Emma. The smirk quickly graced his features again. "Now," he started, and then suddenly he had her arm locked in a death-grip. He squeezed so hard, her bone would've easily snapped had she been human, and all the while, he was smiling at her. "What the hell do you want?"
It was Will who spoke, words coming out in anxious bursts. "Regina Mills sent us. Sent her. She's working on a case in Boston, a demon, angel, and human have all been killed. The demon belonged to you, she was a member of your circle, she had a tattoo; your tattoo."
"Just look at the pictures," Emma hissed through gritted teeth. "Look at the pictures and tell us what you know and we'll leave." Will had told her to keep herself in control because the alternative would cost them their lives, and dammit she was doing her best. But, if he kept gripping her like this, kept pushing her, she was going to lose it.
Hook studied her for a moment longer, grip getting just a bit tighter before he finally let go. He laughed as he sauntered over to the table to refill his drink. "And why on Earth would I want to help Regina?" He looked Emma up and down again and added "Or you?"
Emma couldn't help but scoff. She heard Will clear his throat from behind her, but she ignored him. Hook hadn't even looked at Scarlet since they'd arrived, he clearly wanted to go up against her. She was more than willing to accommodate. "This is one of your people and she's dead. Don't you want to find the person responsible? You could have some sort of connection to them. They may even be working their way through your crew. You really want to wait until another one of them turns up dead?"
Hook smiled and took a large swig from his glass. "Your problem, lass, is that you think I care. My people, as you so eloquently put it, can take care of themselves." He then turned so that they were facing each other head on, as if he was about to challenge her. "And if they can't, well then they deserve to die." The smile he'd been wearing their entire conversation dropped off his face, and he looked at her with an expression of unbridled hatred. "Kill them both," he commanded before he placed the glass against his lips, tipped his head back, and finished his drink as though nothing was happening.
Despite the fact that the demons in the room had to be drunk out of their minds, they all leapt up as soon as he gave the order. Emma backed up, trying to get to the door, only to discover that at some point two demons had circled behind her to block it. Hook's cronies began to pull out various weaponry, all designed and infused with the necessary items to kill divine creatures. She was going to die. She and Will were going to die. Will…
She looked over at the demon to her right and was taken aback by the look of pure terror on his face. He had placed himself in front of her as best he could, prepared to defend her from the onslaught that was coming. He was going to try and save her. He was petrified, but he was putting her first. No. He was too young for this. He had only just entered this world, he wasn't going to die for her. Not when he had a sister in the hospital who needed him. Not when he had so much to live for.
She knew Will Scarlet would be the straw that broke the camel's back.
It started off slowly. The lights got a little bit brighter, the room got a little bit hotter, and the rain came down a little bit heavier. Will was the only one who noticed, probably due to his proximity to Emma, and he shot her a questioning look over his shoulder.
"Close your eyes," Emma demanded as she stepped in front of the demon, and Will quickly obeyed.
That's when she let go.
The lights surged so brightly they nearly burst, but angels were creatures of the light, so they held fast. Pops began to fill the room as the bottles of alcohol began to explode, and Emma had the satisfaction of watching Killian look back in surprise. The french doors opened so violently, she was sure they were going to rip off the hinges. Wind and rain tore through the room, whipping her hair around her face, but she still stared him down.
And then there were her wings.
The first few times she'd released her wings, it had been painful. Like something was ripping through her from the inside out. At some point, it had begun to feel good; a massive release in pressure. Keeping that part of her locked away all the time took its toll. Sometimes, that side needed to come out and play.
She had never been particularly vain; she had features she favored over others, and she knew she was pretty, but not quite a knock-out. Her wings though, were a sight to see. They nearly touched the ground and were snow white in color. Never in her life had she seen encountered anything as strong as angel wings. They could slice right through the steel, and yet were soft to the touch. They were, as paintings and stories had predicted, also feathered, which is where demons had gotten the whole "bird" thing from.
Angel wings were something divine, otherworldly, and that's exactly how she felt as she stood in a room of people she should have the sense to be afraid of.
Hook's crew had clearly gotten over their initial shock of seeing her go ethereal, and were staring at her with looks that ranged from disgust to jealousy. They began to advance again, and Emma could tell from the look Hook was giving her, that he didn't expect her to last long.
She shot him a smug smile as she swung her right arm out, sending all those on that side of her hurdling into the wall. Hook's jaw slackened and his eyes widened as he reassessed her. Emma let out a pealing laugh and her left hand began to glow with light magic. She quickly swept her left arm out, more aggressively this time, and the demons on that side went flying back with so much force they actually went through the wall. That only left the two demons who had been blocking the door, and she could feel them coming up from behind and moving towards Scarlet. Angels had the ability to move through light, wherever it was they could be, so she quickly teleported so that she was on the other side of Will. She placed her hands on the demon's chests and sent them sprawling backwards. Satisfied, she turned her attention back to Hook.
"Now, do you want to look at the pictures? Or am I going to have to make you?" She let her voice shift into something deadly at the end of the sentence, showing him she was not to be messed with.
Hook looked around at the devastation around him and did the damnedest thing. He smiled. "Oh, love, you have no idea who you're messing with."
Pain. Red-hot, searing pain pulsated through her brain. She instinctively dropped to her knees and clutched at her head. She couldn't think past the pain. She'd do anything to make it stop. There was something else though, behind the pain. Something old. Very, very old. It was probing her, poking around in the inner recesses of her mind. She did her best to block it out, but there was so much pain. She could feel an arm pulling at her, trying to get her to her feet, but she couldn't move. Whoever it was, they went away after a while. She felt an enormous pressure begin to build behind her eyelids, and she could see a hazy figure emerging from the dark. It felt familiar. Like a memory. A feeling of dread, of terror, of betrayal, shot through her, and she pushed the figure away.
And then it stopped.
Cool metal touched her face and she opened her eyes to find Hook staring at her. His hook was beneath her chin tilting her face up so she was looking at him, and their faces were so close she could've easily leaned forward and kissed him.
"Interesting," he muttered.
Emma sat there, dumbfounded by their proximity, until she realized what he'd just done and shot to her feet. Light magic shone from her hands and she raised her arms to keep him back. "What was that?" she shot.
Hook smirked. "That was just an old parlor trick I learned awhile back. I find it's very effective for keeping your kind under control." He tilted his head ever so slightly and raised an eyebrow. "It didn't quite work on you. I wonder why."
Emma rolled her eyes. She sensed the fight was over, even though she could see the demons she'd knocked down getting back onto their feet. "Felt like it worked," Emma replied. The demons were edging closer to her, clearly pissed that they'd been bested. Then she realized someone was missing. "Where's Scarlet?"
Hook held up a hand and the encroaching demons stopped in their tracks. He ignored Emma's quizzical expression. "Ah, yes, your little friend. He's in Smee's office, we'll join him now that you've decided to behave."
"Why are we going to Smee's office?"
"I believe you had some photos you wanted to show me," he replied as he held open the door to the room.
Emma looked him up and down, and he was clearly amused by the bewildered expression that must've overtook her face. "What, so now you're a gentleman?"
"You bested my team and me fair and square," he explained as Emma ventured out into the hallway. Then suddenly he was right behind her, whispering in her ear. "Besides, I'm always a gentleman."
Emma shot him a withering look over her shoulder before making her way down to Smee's office. She had no idea what had caused his sudden change of heart, but she decided to run with it. At least until she could find a safe way to get out of the damn hotel.
Hook kicked the door open when they reached their destination, and laughed when Will shot to his feet. Emma didn't miss the relieved look that crossed the younger demon's face when he saw her intact. He gave her a questioning look to confirm that she was alright, and she nodded quickly.
"So," Hook started as he took a seat in Smee's chair and kicked his feet onto the desk. His expression quickly became pensive. "I don't believe I know your name, love."
Emma snorted. "You didn't even learn my name before trying to kill me, how chivalrous."
Hook raised an eyebrow and gave her a mocking look. "Wouldn't be the first time I've done that, lass." Then his expression darkened considerably before he tacked on "and I suggest you watch the attitude around me. We wouldn't want a repeat of what happened back there, would we?" He asked as he tapped his temple with his hook.
"Emma Swan." She spat back. Pain be damned, she wouldn't be intimidated.
Hook let out a humorless laugh. "Swan? That's ironic isn't it? Quite a fitting name for a bird. I must say, it suits you."
Emma gave him a bitter smile, before she quickly pulled up the photos on her phone and slid it over to him. "Three victims; two women, one male. Obviously if you can ID the other two victims, that would be helpful, but the one we want you to take a look at is," Emma swiped to the photo of the kneeling victim. "Her. Whoever did this, they took it easiest on her. It could mean that they knew her, or that they're partial to demons-"
"Not partial enough not to brutally murder her though," Hook interrupted.
"Keen observation," Emma replied. Hook's eyes flickered up from the photo and he sent her a warning glare. She ignored him. "She has a hook tattoo, so we figured she was connected to you. Do you know who she was? Or anyone who would want to kill her or someone close to you?"
Hook threw the phone down and leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers together behind his head. "Her name's Lily Page," Hook started. "She came to me about, a year and a half ago, said she needed asylum. I took her in. She kept mostly to herself, quite an odd girl. Trouble seemed to follow her wherever she went."
Will scoffed. "She was a demon, trouble follows us wherever we go."
Hook scowled at Will for a solid three minutes, causing the younger demon to clamp his mouth shut and shift himself behind Emma. "Like I was saying," Hook began before his eyes flickered back to the angel. "Trouble followed her wherever she went, and not," Hook looked pointedly at Will, "the standard kind. She always seemed to be scared of something; constantly looking over her shoulder. About a week ago, she disappeared. No one really missed her," Hook shrugged.
"And now she's dead," Emma sighed.
"Now she's dead," Hook confirmed, appearing utterly uninterested in the conversation. He and Regina had more in common than either one of them would probably want to admit.
"Is there any family you know of, someone I can contact to come collect her things or release the body to?" Emma asked, and she couldn't help the hopefulness that leaked into her voice.
"The girl was an orphan, and she wasn't the type to have any friends," Hook cut in, crushing her hopes in one fell swoop.
Because Emma recognized herself in the picture that was being painted. Orphan. No friends. No one to call. It could've easily happened to her if she hadn't had Henry, or David, or Mary Margaret. She could've been Lily Page. In some ways, she still was.
Maybe he saw the disappointment on her face, maybe he was just trying to get inside her head, but Hook looked up at her and asked, "You alright, Swan?"
She simply nodded. "Fine. Thank you for your help, Boston PD is very appreciative," she replied as she made her way to the door. Will quickly turned on his heel and followed her out.
He didn't stop them.
She rode down the elevator in silence, going over the case details in her head. They were getting somewhere, she could feel it. Something about Lily Page was nagging her, but she couldn't put her finger on what it was. She needed to get back to Boston and see if she could start connecting dots. Maybe they could ID the two other victims with this new knowledge.
When they got to the lobby, Emma reached into the backpack Will had been carrying and pulled out the heavy black cardigan she'd been wearing earlier. She pulled it tightly around her body as they made their way back into the New York downpour. It felt good to be outside again, away from all the madness. Emma lifted her face to the sky and sighed.
"Whad'a we do now?" Will asked in an almost childlike tone.
Emma laughed. "Back to Boston, I suppose. I'll see what I can do with this information, and I imagine Regina is missing your smiling face."
Will gave her a toothy grin. "I am quite entertaining."
"No arguments there," Emma replied. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a homeless man leaning up against the hotel, white paper cup in her hand. She could tell he was good, could feel the light radiating out of him. She fished a few bills out of her cardigan pocket and made her way over to him. It would make her feel better to do something good. Angel's fed off positivity and good deeds. As she dropped the money into the cup, she could feel the gratitude rolling off of him, and it made her feel good.
Their eyes met briefly, he was older and had clearly seen his fair share, and his expression quickly morphed into one of shock. Emma watched in confusion as he gave her a toothy grin, glee overtaking his features. It had to be the aura she was giving off, it was designed to make humans feel good, but she'd never had a reaction quite like this one.
Then, ever so slowly, he raised a dirty pointer finger to his lips as though he were telling her to be quiet. The smile never left his face, and Emma could only reciprocate the gesture, before she made her way back to Will. Maybe he was crazy…
"That was weird," she started as she stuck a hand out to hail a cab. Maybe it was her outfit, but five cabs screeched to a halt.
"What?" Will asked as he held open the door.
"That man over there he-" she began but was interrupted by the shiver that rocked her body.
"Swan," someone yelled out and Emma pinched the bridge of her nose as she turned to see Hook making his way over to her.
"What the hell?" She replied when he reached them.
"That's no way to greet your key informant" Hook smirked.
"What do you want?"
Hook sighed. "I was thinking about what you said, about this possibly being about me, and I think it's best if I come with you." He wasn't meeting her eyes.
"You want to come with us? To Boston? To help?"
His head snapped up and he sneered. "That's what I said isn't it, Swan?"
Emma was the one who stepped forward this time; invading his personal space. She kept her voice low as she asked, "Why do you really want to come?"
He waited a long time before responding; brow furrowing and ocean blue eyes staring deep into her own. "If this has something to do with me, I want to make sure that whoever is responsible is handled appropriately."
He was lying. She didn't know how she knew; if it was her unparalleled instincts, or if he just wasn't trying to hide it, but she knew.
And even though she knew she was dancing with the devil, she still said, "Get in."