A good father would hurl his offspring into the lava pits to determine their worth. A good father would nourish his offspring with scorpion venom. A good father would perform the Unconsecrated Knives Ritual upon his offspring during every lunar eclipse.
But Mikael was not a good father. No matter how many extravagant rings set with priceless gemstones and bejeweled earrings inlaid with precious metals (still attached to unwilling, ragged flesh) that Mikael gave Rebekah, she knew he was not a good father.
And now she must face off against him without her brothers. Squaring her shoulders, she flung out her wings, the curved spikes and bony ridges easily shredding through the atrocious polyester uniform Caroline had forced upon her.
Mikael advanced, using stilted, marionette-like movements — which was surprising — Mikael was an accomplished fleshwalker whose dexterity in borrowed skinsuits was celebrated throughout the hell dimensions.
Even Caroline seemed to notice as she asked uncertainly, "Um...that's Satan?" As he paused in his pursuit of Rebekah to lurch toward Caroline instead, she questioned, "Are his hooves getting in the way?"
"Idiot human! This subcreature has befouled his body with illicit concoctions!" Stomping his foot at an awkward angle as he continued to grapple with the unwieldy flesh, he snarled, "Devils don't have hooves, but I do have these." His fangs emerged to slice through Jeremy's gums and fling around copious black-red blood.
Rebekah quickly summoned her sword to appear from where she'd left it in Caroline's office (Nik's human had gotten shirty about weapons in her kitchen.) A loud clanging followed by Mikael's cursing caught her attention and she looked on appreciatively as Caroline continued to strike him with her pizza peel. Feisty little human.
"Sorry Jeremy! So, they didn't really cover this in that online class on HR policies for small businesses, but I'm pretty sure I'm not actually supposed to beat my employees. I think there's a form we'll need to fill out and maybe speak with a union rep..." she trailed off helplessly as Mikael clumsily lunged for her throat.
Rebekah lashed out with Skofnung, an infamous sword that a Danish king once boasted was imbued with the spirits of a dozen of his loyal berserker guards. Dimwitted human — it held a thousand. She easily sliced into Jeremy's flash, mindful that Caroline somewhat valued this shell and would be vexed if it sustained permanent damage.
Seemingly dazed, Mikael dipped Jeremy's fingers into the fresh cuts on his arm, smearing the blood into random patterns on the kitchen cabinets. "Lazy strokes of the blade; but then you were never a true warrior, child," he spitefully slurred.
Rebekah hated how the sting of her father's disapproval brought her low, but she ignored the ache and mocked, "And the once-mighty ruler of the hellfire throne has been conquered by a drug-soaked flesh sack."
The girls shared a laugh, but it was short-lived as Mikael suddenly joined in, transforming Jeremy's fumbling, dullard's voice into a sinister, cold rebuke. Rebekah narrowed her gaze as she observed Mikael's movements becoming more pronounced, more fluid. He was adapting. She could read his power now, threatening to collapse the paltry shell, and she tried to angle her body to block his path to Caroline, preparing to battle her father.
But then he raised that wretched dagger. Rebekah froze at the glint of silver, knowing that it was dipped in white oak ash. Her father didn't want to kill her — not yet, anyway. Mikael advanced on her with a malicious grin, but a fragrant red wave suddenly slopped over him. He let out an undignified yelp as hot marinara sauce dripped between his eyes. Caroline had hurled the entire stockpot at the king of hell.
Nik's human was barking mad. And bloody brilliant, Rebekah acknowledged as she watched her distract Mikael by shrieking, "Look what you made me do! I just ruined a perfectly good marinara — do you have ANY idea how expensive organic Giulietta tomatoes are these days?"
While Mikael swore, smearing the gloppy mess around Jeremy's face in a vain effort to avoid the acidic, stinging juice, Rebekah landed a clean jab that broke Jeremy's nose. The flat of her blade caught the blood splatters as she rested it under his chin in warning.
"You raise your hand to strike a kinsman? Your blood? All to defend Niklaus' whore," he hissed, dodging Rebekah's sword and bringing the dagger up to ram it into her heart. Rebekah looked down in horror, watching her flesh start to turn brittle and gray. Her limbs became dead weight, and she gracelessly flopped to the tile amid Caroline's screams.
Her last impression was oddly one of mirth as she heard the resounding thud of the pizza peel while Caroline screeched at Mikael about toxic masculinity.
"Hot Scary Chick? Uh, you still alive in there?"
Rebekah groaned, willing her fangs to recede despite the allure of Jeremy's throbbing pulse. She hated the immense relief she felt as she no longer sensed Mikael. Fear was for the weak. She blearily blinked up at Jeremy, noting that he wore the strangest expression. It was...anger? Perhaps someone had absconded with that smoking apparatus he was quite fond of?
"Hey, are you ok?"
Oh. Was this feeble-minded buffoon concerned about her? Flustered, she quickly sat up, but didn't shrug off his hand as he continued to pet her hair in an oddly soothing manner. "What in the bloody —" she broke off, startled to realize that he'd undaggered her and seemed curiously calm about holding a gore-streaked weapon. Daggered. Bloody FUCK.
"Caroline!" She scrambled to her feet, wildly glancing around the wrecked kitchen as though Caroline magically would appear among the marinara-splattered cabinets and jumbled mess of pans scattered about. Caroline would be most displeased at the state of her kitchen. Caroline, Caroline. That shrill little human would've been no match for Mikael. For his cruelty.
At times, even the most cynical of hell's creatures would turn away from his darkness. And Caroline, for all her adorable snarls wrapped in sunshine, would be broken. Fortunately, Mikael wouldn't harm her more than necessary until he could do so in front of Nik.
Nik. Double bloody fuck. Her brother would bring to ruin all who'd compromised Caroline's safety — starting with her. Swallowing back a pained whimper, she asked, "Where's Caroline? Did you see where the entity went that briefly..." she trailed off awkwardly, unsure of how to begin to explain Mikael's fleshwalking to this subcreature.
"Oh yeah, Shadow Guy. I like, puked him up or whatever and then he took Caroline and melted into the floor." Shaking his head, he solemnly swore, "No more mixing benzos and rippers. Bad trip, man."
His grasp of human language was tenuous at best, but Rebekah believed that Jeremy saw Mikael reopen a portal and kidnap Caroline. He seemed to be under the impression that this was a side effect of his substance-addled mind. Probably for the best. At least his frail human body didn't appear to have suffered permanent damage from the fleshwalking. She should probably heal the broken nose and the ruined flaps of skin along the corners of his mouth, though.
"Hospital?"
Frowning, she reassured him, "I'll heal your injuries."
Dropping the dagger as though Jeremy just now noticed he was holding it, he mumbled, "I mean for you." Gesturing vaguely at her, he added, "Because you were all stabbed and uh, stuff."
Rebekah was stunned. He assumed she was harmed and wished to help?
Clearly taking Rebekah's silence for agreement, Jeremy promptly slung her arm around his neck and began walking her toward the door. "Come on, I'll drive you over there."
What a perfectly awful idea. The Twelfth Circle was dedicated to drivers from hell. She'd only recently become familiar with this human mechanical buffoonery, understanding that they'd built a complex culture around these motorcars. For example, there was much debate regarding the level of offense taken for those who used beeping noises to intimidate others at lights to perform a confounding maneuver knows as "right on red." Shaking her head, she told him, "I've already healed."
Nodding sagely, Jeremy asked, "Echinacea with ginseng, right? I tried the herbalist thing for a while, but this state has all these lame restrictions that'll bum you out."
What an utter moron. And yet somehow charming? With an irritated sigh, Rebekah said, "I need you to tell me exactly what you saw when this...Shadow Guy took Caroline. It's imperative I concoct a plan before —"
A howling vortex cut off the rest of her words, and as the familiar black sludge of hell's eternal despair washed over the tile, Rebekah stilled, resigning herself to Nik's inevitable rage. Nik stepped out of the portal, his leathery wings flinging away remnants of what appeared to be a gory battle.
Before Nik could speak, Jeremy seemed transfixed by the oozing muck that had begun its shrill lament. "Woah." Dazed, he glanced at Rebekah and Nik, mumbling philosophically, "Sometimes you scream into the void and the void screams back, huh?"
Rebekah fought the ridiculous impulse to laugh. The buffoon was...pleasing to her. And his arms were quite nice for a human.
Raising an eyebrow in Jeremy's direction before glancing back at Rebekah, he asked, "I see you've been entertaining yourself with Caroline's idiot manservant, but where's Caroline?" Stomping the screaming black muck into submission, he muttered worriedly, "She'll be quite agitated when she sees her kitchen."
She felt a flash of fear at Nik's question, knowing she couldn't prolong the inevitable. Taking a deep breath, she kept her tone light as she explained, "The good news, brother, is Jeremy has proven quite resilient in the face of rather challenging circumstances. I wish to keep him as a pet."
Impatiently flaring his wings, Nik growled, "And the bad news?"
"Shadow Guy is a total dick," Jeremy blurted out, much to Rebekah's chagrin. It seemed she would need to get a muzzle for her new pet.