Lute needed to know what the Ambassador knew. If she really had lost faith in that ridiculous hotel, then all it would take would be one word from her to the Seraphim to send the exorcists back to finish what should have been done a long time ago. Lute might not even try to kill her after, as long as the Ambassador was on the right side.
The problem was being discreet. If the rumors were wrong, and Lute met with the Ambassador openly, then she might be recognized, and that witch could blab about Lute's failed assassination attempt. Not only was it humiliating that she'd failed, but she couldn't finish the job if people knew. She had to find her in secret, just to be safe.
Luckily, Lute had kept tabs on the same cultist traders she'd used to smuggle herself into Hell the first time. She was tempted to end them all, but until the issue with the Ambassador was resolved, Lute had to keep that travel point open.
The only remaining issue was her missing arm. She could take the witch in a fight one-on-one, but only if she didn't use magic. Even with the element of surprise, Lute hadn't managed to kill her quick enough before the smiling red demon had stepped in and forced her away. If she had to talk to the Ambassador first, then she wouldn't have a way of suppressing her magic. She had to act quick, and she had to do it with one arm.
She decided on wearing a cloak. They weren't really her style, but at least it would cover her shoulder, and might hide her identity as the assassin. The Ambassador didn't know her, and her face had been covered, so she had no way of knowing who Lute was. If all went well, she could get the information she needed and slip away before anyone figured it out.
When the time came, she slipped unnoticed through the smuggler portal, once again finding herself in a deeper area of Hell. Fortunately, this time she knew where she was, so it took far less time to make her way up to the Pride ring.
She found the Ambassador sitting in a park, feeding breadcrumbs to a bunch of birds next to the same red demon who had fought Lute off the first time. She was laughing while he sang a rather upbeat song. The lyrics, however, were all about poisoning pigeons in a park. Lute didn't think it was nearly as funny as the Ambassador clearly did. She wondered if the breadcrumbs were actually poisoned, or if they were just making a dark joke. She didn't care. She had to get the Ambassador alone.
It turned out to be far easier this time around, as the Ambassador said something to the red demon that sent him off. He melted into shadow, you know, like a creep, and was gone in the blink of an eye. No one else was within sight. Time to make her move.
Elida, on her end, could feel the thread between her and Lute. She knew she'd gotten close, so she sent Alastor away. He'd be nearby, she was sure. As much as he respected her, he was the protective type, and wouldn't leave her alone with someone who had very nearly killed her. She threw another handful of unpoisoned breadcrumbs to the birds, hand hovering over the panic button in her pocket.
"Ambassador," Lute greeted, walking confidently up to her. She held her nose in the air, a sneer on her expression.
Elida looked at her, pretending to be startled, "Oh! Hello. Do I know you? I'm sorry, I'm terrible with faces," she lied.
"No," Lute lied back. "But a little birdy told me you might have something valuable to tell me."
"There are a lot of little birdies flying around lately," Elida said, holding a crumb out for a bird to land on her hand. It ate from her palm, fluttering its wings. "What can I do for you?"
"My name isn't important," Lute said. "I represent the exorcist army." She looked over her shoulder to make sure there were no demons nearby enough to hear. Leaning in, she whispered, "I hear you've finally come to your senses and are ready to wipe out the demon filth once and for all."
"Before I tell you anything," Elida whispered back, making a show of seeming conspiratorial, "I need to know if we're alone. Did anyone follow you here?"
"No."
"Does anyone know you're here? I can't tell you anything if there's even a chance someone else is listening. The demons… they'll kill me if they think I've betrayed them. And they have eyes everywhere, even in Heaven. I've been forced to pretend to be friends with them for over a year now, and I can't let my intel slip until I'm home safe."
"No one," Lute assured her, "I came alone and in secret. You can tell me what you know, and I'll make sure you get back to Heaven where you belong."
"Do you promise?"
"On my halo."
"Not even the Seraphim?"
"No. Emily is too naïve to trust in this, and Sera wouldn't have approved of my coming down here."
A slow, almost creepy smile spread across the Ambassador's face. It looked odd on an angel like her. "Good," she said, "Because that means I can finally do this."
Suddenly Lute felt very very dizzy. Her vision blurred, and she stumbled, falling to her knees. "What… the fuck?" She was nauseous. She wanted to vomit but didn't seem to have the strength to do it. What was happening?
Elida's tone turned conversational, "I'm glad you came so quickly, Lute." She threw another handful of crumbs to the birds at her feet. "I was wondering how long it would take to get you down here. Turns out you were just as eager to see me again as I was to see you."
Lute snarled, "How do you know my name?"
"That beautiful arm of yours," Elida explained, "Was a gift from one of the very people you tried to kill. He wanted to make you feel better after losing your captain. If that's not angelic, I don't know what is. And yet, despite all the proof we have that demons can be redeemed, you still want to exterminate them all. How you ever wound up in Heaven, I will never understand. Anyway," she shrugged, "all he had to do was take one look at it and he knew exactly who'd tried to kill me. I've known who you are for some time now. It's nice to finally make a proper introduction."
Her arm shook with the strain of keeping herself from collapsing any further to the ground, but Lute's pride refused to relent. She glared up at the demon-loving bitch, "So why wait, then? Why not just tell the Seraphim and have them banish me to Hell like every other fallen angel?"
"Because then," Elida explained, "Not only would I earn the ire of the other exorcists, but you'd be down here with me. That could only end one of two ways; with one of us dead, or with you backing down. Something tells me you're not the surrendering type. So, I decided to skip the trouble and kill two birds with one stone."
"What stone?" Lute asked angrily. She couldn't hold herself up any longer and she collapsed fully to the hot ground. A bird pecked at her face, but Elida shooed it off.
"I needed a test subject. You see, I dosed you with a rather special invention of mine. I call it, 'The Angel of Death,' for irony's sake."
"I've never had one of your potions in my life," Lute protested, her voice a strained hiss.
"Oh, but you did," Elida smiled sweetly, moving to sit on the ground beside Lute. She stroked the exorcist's hair like a mother soothing a sick child. "You just didn't notice. Anywho, this particular brew was tough, but I think I just might have pulled it off. Ask me how I know!"
Lute refused to give her the satisfaction.
"Oh, alright, I'll tell you anyway," Elida chirped. "I know because I can feel your life force. I've connected it to my magic. You would live, if I allowed you to. But since you drank the whole thing, all I have to do now is exert my will, and your entire essence will flow into me. I'll absorb your life like a sponge, and my magic will be permanently stronger because of it. You have no idea how much virgin blood I needed to make that happen. Luckily for me, I have a willing donor that was all too happy to share. I even got to use both demonic and angelic blood. It turns out, mixing the two has an unprecedentedly potent effect!"
Lute struggled to breathe, "But… Angels can't… be killed with… poison like that… It takes-"
"Angelic steel," Elida finished her sentence for her, "I know. That was the trickiest part. But eventually, I was able to alter the steel into a liquid state by mixing it with the elemental properties of quicksilver. It was tough magic, and I accidentally melted a few rather expensive cauldrons in the process, but I figured it out. I am good, if I do say so myself."
Lute's eyes widened, "But that means…"
"The potion you drank contains the one thing that can kill an angel," Elida nodded, "And now I choose whether you live or die. You tried to kill me. You're still trying to kill the people I've come to love. If you were willing to put down your spear and give up this genocidal crusade of yours, then I'd happily let you live. However, we both know that's not going to happen. I can tell when a mind is made up, and yours decided who you wanted to be a long time ago."
As Lute's vision faded to black, she heard Elida whisper one last thing into her ear, "Enjoy oblivion, Lute. I hope it finally brings you peace."
Elida stayed beside Lute until she was gone, stroking her hair and offering what little comfort she could. She could feel Lute's life pouring into her own. The exorcist may not have been a magic-wielder, but she had been powerful, nonetheless. Elida felt stronger. Much stronger.
She also felt like a monster.
Burying her face in her hands, she curled up into a ball and sobbed. She'd never killed before. She'd never wanted to have to. She felt dirty and corrupted, like she'd crossed a line she'd never be able to uncross. But no matter how horrible she felt about it, she couldn't think of any other way she could save Alastor. She couldn't have let him handle Lute, because then she wouldn't be able to use the potion for her next plan. He couldn't know about it until it was done. She wished so dearly that things were different. That she could just be the peaceful Ambassador, rather than a murderer.
She called her sisters. The Hag showed up on a broom, flanked by a few other witches at her side. They circled like vultures before landing beside the sobbing Elida.
"Well well," the Hag said roughly, hands on her ancient hips, "This is quite a development. Where's Shoulder-Pads?"
"He can't see her like this. He can't know how I killed her," Elida sniffled. "Not yet."
"Oh, little deer," Shrewm crouched down to hold her sister, "don't despair. There is much yet to be done. Tears try a troubled heart too terribly."
They piled around her, cradling her in their arms while she cried. "We'll take care of it," a witch with sage tied in her hair promised, "You'll never see her again."
"Promise you won't tell Allie how I did it!"
"We promise, sister, we promise," The Hag agreed. "But out of curiosity, how DID you do it? There's no death wound."
Elida didn't answer, she only sobbed harder. After a while of inconsolable crying, Elida calmed down, and her sisters kissed her wet cheeks. "Go home to your king, holy queen," The Hag ordered, "And we'll handle this. Have him feed you something unhealthy and take a good long nap. I promise you'll feel better in the morning."
Elida did as she was told, waiting for her sisters to drag Lute's body away before calling Alastor back. He found her, misty eyed and sniffling. He appeared at her side, a handkerchief in his hand before he'd even reached her.
"What happened, dearest?" He dabbed her eyes before she dove into his chest, squeezing onto him for dear life.
"I'm a horrible person," she sniffled.
"Ha! Join the club." He squeezed her back, not sure why she was so upset, but accepting his duty as her comforter either way. He kissed her forehead, "How did it go?"
"It went perfectly," she admitted.
"So why are you upset?"
"Because it went perfectly."
"You are a confounding one."
"Make me feel better."
"What would make you feel better?"
"Comfort food."
"Name it and it's yours."
"I want your mom's beignets. And your jambalaya. And a lot of chocolate."
"In that order?"
"All at once."
"Your wish is my command. Come then, let's get you home. You're not spending another moment in this place."
She shrunk down, settling herself into his jacket pocket. It was cozy in there. He'd removed the knife he usually kept there, instead placing a soft washcloth inside for her to curl up in. She wondered when he'd decided to do that. By the time they were back at the hotel, she'd cried herself to sleep.
She woke up in her own bed, still small as a doll. Alastor had wrapped her up in her heated shawl and tucked her in. She woke up to the smell of a home-cooked dinner. Alastor saw her stirring and turned on some music for them to enjoy.
She ate, silent tears escaping down her cheeks. Alastor chatted at her, distracting her with his quick wit and transatlantic voice. She liked his voice. He didn't make her say anything back to him, he simply talked. He was good at talking. It was his whole job, after all. Decades of talking to yourself in a radio tower tended to hone the skill rather well.
She debated on whether to tell the Seraphim about the assassination attempt, or to just wait and feign ignorance about the whole thing. If Lute went missing and was never found, they had no reason to think it was Elida. They might suspect a demon, or even a redeemed soul, but not Elida. Elida didn't know Lute.
But there were ways they could figure it out. Magics they could perform, investigators they could send. If they found out that not only had Elida killed Lute, but she'd hidden it from them, then Elida's halo was forfeit. Elida could argue self-defense, but only if she was upfront about the whole fiasco from the get go.
In the end, she decided that the Seraphim couldn't know. Elida was openly dating a demon. That made her actions suspect to bias and outside influence. Emily would probably believe the self-defense story, but Sera would be skeptical at best. Elida couldn't take chances. She had to see this through until the exterminations were ended permanently.
She also had that other issue to deal with. The reason Alastor couldn't know about the Angel of Death potion. She wanted to tell him so badly; to unload everything and share all of it with him. He was the only one who would really understand. But not yet. Not until it was done.
"Allie," she said weakly after she'd cleaned her plate, "can you hold me until I'm asleep?"
"You just woke up, dearest."
"I'm still tired. And I need you here. Please?"
"As you wish, love."
He snapped his fingers and the tray disappeared. Elida rolled over, resting her head on his arm. She looked up at him, eyes big and innocent-looking. But she wasn't innocent. Not anymore. She felt so icky.
He gave her one long kiss goodnight before wrapping her up in his arms and pulling the blanket up to cover her properly. Tears continued to roll down her face, drenching his lovely coat. He didn't know what could possibly have happened to upset her so horribly. She'd watched him torture Vox. She'd seen him kill. She'd witnessed all the horror that Hell had to offer, and not once did she blink an eye. Yet here she was, reduced to a wet, blubbering mess.
He couldn't wait to find out why. Where had the assassin gone? Were they dead? Did she cast a spell? Were they in some other dimension, screaming in pain like the enemies on his radio broadcast? Did Elida make some sort of deal with them for the protection of her friends?
"Elida," Alastor asked, "before you drift off, at least tell me one thing."
"Hm?"
"Do you still own your soul?"
"What? Yes, of course I do."
"Just checking, dear."
"Angels don't make deals the same way demons do. At least, not usually. The Vees were a special case."
"You were brilliant for that."
"I wish it hadn't been necessary. I wish none of this were necessary."
"Well," Alastor countered, "If none of this were necessary then I'd never have had the opportunity to meet you. That would be tragic, indeed."
"You wouldn't have known the difference."
"Perhaps not. But I do now."
"Me too. I'm going to miss you if I go home at the end of this."
"If?"
"I don't know if I'm worthy to go back anymore. Not after today."
And then they were silent the rest of the night, the weight of those words resting heavily on their minds. On one hand, if what she said was true, Alastor would get to keep her forever. On the other hand, she wouldn't be as happy as she deserved to be. He wondered if he could prove her wrong. He was good at proving people wrong. He practically made a hobby out of it.
But how?