Chapter Twenty-Two
"Has Victor been around lately?" Murron asked Crowley one evening when they were both down in the cellar. Crowley shrugged, shaking his head. Murron frowned. "I remember mentioning the other witches' locations to him before he disappeared. I hope he hasn't gone and done anything stupid."
"He was pretty stupid when I found him, so," Crowley remarked mildly, turning a page in the grimoire. Murron sighed softly, concern for the ambitious demon growing. "I wouldn't worry about him. He might be an imbecile, but he's still a demon. He can take care of himself." Crowley turned on the stool and gave her a quiet smile. "And so can you."
"Which is to suggest I don't need him anymore?" Murron asked, only slightly comforted by his confidence in her. "I still can't blip in and out at will; Victor's kind of my demonic taxi. Without him, I'm kind of vulnerable, don't you think?"
"Only if there's anyone left to take advantage," Crowley pointed out. "Take care of everything and you shouldn't have a problem."
"Well, I certainly wouldn't feel right bothering you to swing by and get my ass out of the fire," Murron replied. Crowley shrugged again. "Speaking of which, why are you holding back?"
"From what?"
"Getting Baal. You've got the angel sword now. Why haven't you gone and killed him yet?"
"I have my reasons," he informed her quietly, returning to the grimoire. Murron regarded him carefully for a moment. "I can feel your suspicions, love. Kindly turn your iron gaze elsewhere."
"I think I should look for Victor," Murron declared and started for the basement steps. Just as she reached the top landing, a violent bang sounded in the kitchen. Murron shot a look back at Crowley, who returned it casually. Murron gestured at the closed cellar door. "Aren't you a little worried about that?"
"Not at all. It sounds like what I was waiting for has arrived," Crowley replied with lofty arrogance. Murron looked away briefly towards the door again; when she glanced back at Crowley, the demon had disappeared. She heard him speaking to someone in the kitchen and emerged into the bright room, blinking. When her eyes adjusted, she gasped aloud to see Angelica standing in front of Crowley.
"Get back!" she cried, rushing forward, hand raised defensively. Crowley put his own hand out and gently warded her off. Murron stared at him, open-mouthed. "What the hell is going on? Why is she here?"
"It's me, Murron," 'Angelica' interjected. "Victor."
Murron gawked. "Victor?! What're you doing in Angelica?"
"Mr. Crowley asked me to get close to her and possess her," Victor explained.
"For what?" Murron looked between the possessed child and Crowley.
"Bait," Crowley replied patiently. "It occurred to me that even with the angel blade, I'm still not strong enough to take out Baal alone. I figured I'd use your angel problem to handle my own."
"I'm lost," Murron admitted. "Why would having a possessed Angelica help with that?"
"Simple. Your Patience comes looking for her daughter, bringing her angel pal with her. We -"
"'We'?" Murron interrupted incredulously. Crowley pressed his lips together briefly, eyes closing as if to regain his patience.
"Yes. We will then go to Baal and the two featherheads can duke it out themselves, leaving us alone. Two birds, one stone, blah blah blah."
"Brilliant, isn't it?" Victor chimed in, grinning. Murron side-stepped away from him, still unnerved by the child's presence, possessed or otherwise.
"But why would I go? I can't take on an angel!" she protested. Crowley smirked, as did Victor, the expression comical on the little girl's face.
"I'm not asking you to. However, Baal brought two of his fallen partyboys to our last double date. I'll need your help dealing with them," Crowley explained. "Also, Patience will undoubtedly be with Puriel; you can take her out as well."
"So, the three of us versus two angels, two of the fallen one's little friends, and an angry psychowitch who may or may not bring her own party with her?" Murron prompted. "You see this working out, how?"
"Have a little faith in yourself, for sin's sake, Murron," Crowley returned a little heatedly. "Or did I not fuck enough sense into you?" Murron made an indignant noise while Victor stifled a snicker. "Because I'll happily do it again."
"Guess you guys were busy, too, huh?" Victor quipped, succumbing to the impish laugh he'd tried to hold back. Murron glared down at him, wanting to feel free to clip him about the ear. Crowley, on the other hand, was smiling smugly, thoroughly pleased with his servant's comment. Murron sighed and threw her hands up in defeat.
"Fine. What have I got to lose?"
"Absolutely nothing you haven't already given away, love," Crowley assured her, sliding his finger down her nose. "It's been safe with me so far; would I ever steer you wrong?"
"It might not be your plan to, but icebergs in the night and all," Murron muttered, wrinkling her nose. "So, when are we going to do this?"
"Soon. I wager it won't be long before they come looking for the kid," Crowley replied, all seriousness again. "I'd rather not be caught with my ass in the wind, if you get my meaning. We'll have to be quick about it, and ensure that your angel is following us. It won't work otherwise."
"Guess that means we have to plant Victor somewhere and keep a step ahead of Puriel and Patience," Murron mused. She looked down at Victor. "Where were you when you possessed Angelica? Not Patience's house, I'm guessing."
"No, I was actually tortured a good bit before the angel was called," Victor explained. Murron immediately felt bad for having been annoyed with him moments before. Victor caught this and waved a careless hand. "I'm fine. It sucked, but I'm fine. That meat-suit I left isn't, but hey, new clothes and all." He gestured down at Angelica's body. "Obviously, I won't possess her forever, but for now, so long as she's in one piece, so am I."
"Who was torturing you?" Murron asked.
"Two of the other witches. A Grace and Faith. I think they were sisters."
"Did they seem strong to you?"
"I guess. I've endured worse."
"Victor here had to deal with my brand of persuasion before he pledged himself to me," Crowley explained. "As you can imagine, my methods top anything a human could do, sick fuck or otherwise."
Murron didn't want to think about that and instead looked back down at Victor. "How did you manage to get Angelica?"
"She wanted to poke at me a bit. Her mom originally said no, but the angel said she should learn how to do it sooner or later," Victor replied with a shrug. "Sick, isn't it?"
"Not really," Murron shivered, recalling the angel's cold stare and even colder presence. "It seems like something Puriel would've done. And I'd like to say Patience being against it wins her points in my book, but the bitch tried to Inquisition me. No, she can burn in Hell for that."
"And she will," Crowley rejoined with a sadistic smile. "I'll have a lot of fun with that one."
"If I'm around then, let me watch, would you?" Murron chuckled. Crowley's smile spread into a pleased grin.
"Careful, love. We might have to sear a few nasty things onto the kid's mind if you keep talking dirty like that," the demon king purred. Murron didn't bother to hide her intrigued smile. She was quite done denying herself the pleasure of his company.
Victor cleared his throat, an unusual sound while he sported Angelica's voice. Murron looked back at him expectantly. "I can stay down here if you two want to...have a little pre-war powwow?"
"That doesn't sound like such a bad idea," Murron grinned, sliding a suggestive look Crowley's way. He returned it, his gaze heavy with innuendo. Taking Crowley's arm, Murron giggled as the demon king transported them to the bedroom.
Murron draped herself across Crowley's body like a lazy cat and stretched languidly with a happy sigh. She nestled her cheek into the small patch of soft hair on his chest, enjoying the feel of his torso rising and falling with each breath. "I always feel like such an idiot for not doing this sooner," she murmured, taking up one of his hands and tickling the palm with her fingertips.
"Nah," Crowley replied, his voice thick with contentment. "It wouldn't have been nearly as fun then. You were still sporting that stick up your ass."
Murron pinched his palm briefly, causing him to start up a little and protest. "Don't think I haven't yelled at myself for it enough without your reminding me of it." She kissed the offended spot and resumed her gentle strokes. He relaxed again beneath her. "It doesn't matter, anyway. It's done and, as you say, more fun this way."
"Mm."
Murron walked her fingers up Crowley's arm absently. "Do you think your plan will work?" she asked softly. Crowley shrugged, an awkward gesture when lying down.
"Can't be any worse than the other attempts I've made," he returned. "I'm counting on Puriel looking at Baal as a bigger threat than you or I. Angels hold eternal grudges."
"Puriel does strike me as the type who would," Murron agreed. Her eyes were growing heavy, too relaxed to focus on the fight ahead for much longer. She shifted off Crowley's chest and turned onto her side, smiling when he rolled over as well and draped an arm over her waist. She curled his arm around her, drawing his hand to her lips to kiss his knuckles affectionately. If they survived, she wanted to spend the rest of her time alive just like this. If she could, she would die this way, safe and warm with his naked body behind her and the stir of his breath in her hair. She gripped him to her tighter, almost unconsciously, and leaned into him further. Her breath quickened when she felt his lips press against her bare shoulder and lingered there. A crazy thought came to her and, unable to keep it to herself, asked in a whisper, "Can you fall in love?"
"Demons don't fall in love."
"I'm not asking about demons. I'm asking about you."
Crowley grunted softly, as if reluctant to discuss it. "Not the way you're thinking."
"So, how does it work, then?"
"Must we talk about this?"
Murron considered changing the subject, mentally shook her head, and pressed on. "Yes. I want to know."
He sighed and buried his face in her tangle of hair. His words came fast and muffled. "It's more possessive, I suppose. Without coming off as punny, you don't exactly get to be a demon without coveting something. Sometimes it's worldly things, other times it's people. In my case, it's always been power. Power over my enemies and power over my own survival. If I love anything, it's that." He paused. Murron drew in a breath to feel him pull her against him even more. It was so poignant, he didn't have to say anything more. She turned in his embrace and laid her forehead against his, both hands coming up to cup his face tenderly. Her thumbs stroked the crest of his cheeks, savoring the feel of him as she always did. She wanted to say it, to finally give those words life, but she didn't. Instead, she remained as she was, sensing it would come when the time was right and not a moment sooner.
"We're going to survive this, aren't we?" she asked softly. Crowley opened his eyes, his expression almost unreadable if she hadn't seen it a thousand times before. It was the briefest of doubts, quickly replaced by solid confidence that never failed to reassure her. He brushed her hair away from her face, the back of his hand sliding down her cheek with more tenderness that she'd ever felt from him. She angled her face into his touch, her eyes closing just as his mouth claimed hers. Crowley tucked his arms under Murron and shifted her till he was above her. When the kiss ended, he looked down at her, his gaze steady.
"Yes."
Murron gripped the back of his head and drew their faces together again, wanting to commit the feel of his lips on hers to memory. Even though she believed him, the fear of dying before she was ready settled like ice in her stomach. She needed the heat of him to melt away that fear, to continue to comfort her mind that they'd get out of this mess alive and together, even if it would only be for a few months more. It didn't terrify her to know she was going to die soon; she'd given everything to Crowley and trusted him to tend to those precious gifts with as much compassion as his kind was capable of. If possession was how a demon loved, let him possess her. She wanted him to.
She welcomed him within her again with a satisfied sigh, never wanting to leave his arms or his demanding kisses. Angels and demons be damned: this was all she wanted, all she craved. Let them try and take him away from her. She'd kill them all if it meant they could lose themselves in each other again and again. This determination she put into her kisses, surprising him with their intensity. Just let them try to take her king. She'd end them all.