Elida kept the explanation of her purpose and plans brief, not sure how many of these people would have short attention spans. She answered their questions patiently and with honesty. Some of the attendees were openly snarling at her, others looked like they wanted to kidnap her and lock her in their basements. For Alastor's part, his signature smile remailed fixed on his face.

"Any other questions?" She was still standing on the table.

"I have one," One of the weaker dealmakers said, "What happens to our contracts?"

"What kind of contracts?" Elida asked, turning to the speaker.

"Some of us make a living on buying and trading souls. If one our assets climbs up the ladder, do they just get to fuck off, chains broken?"

"All I can offer in that regard is speculation. My guess would be that their contracts are made null, but since no one owned Sir Pentious's soul, there's no way to know until it happens. But let's consider the two possibilities there; On one hand the contract is made void, on the other it remains in place. If it remains in place, then you now have the wealth of owning an angel's soul, which I'm sure you can imagine would come with a myriad of unique privileges." That got a murmur of interest from the room.

Elida chose not to bother debating the moral quandary of eternal contractual slavery here. This group wouldn't have cared about her thoughts on that, so she stuck to logic, "If it's made void, then you'll be down one soul. But even if that turns out to be the case, you will have to accept it as collateral damage, because if the hotel were limited only to the free souls in Hell, there wouldn't be enough redeemed to convince Heaven to keep the program open. If that happens, then you won't need to worry about who you own, because you'd all be dead anyway."

It was a gutsy argument to make, but she wasn't wrong, and that was likely what was so dangerous about it. Every dealmaker, Alastor included, hoped that redemption wouldn't remove any of their contracts. He was still shocked it was even possible, though you'd never know it looking at him.

The thought of having angels at their beck and call was a tantalizing one. Despite knowing that his most precious assets were at risk, Alastor appreciated Elida's ability to consider each angle. He'd half expected her to plead with the overlords to just let their contracts go out of the goodness of their hearts. But it was clear she understood that would have been a fruitless effort.

Frankly, Elida didn't find it any of her business what someone did with their soul. Selling it was their prerogative, and it wasn't her place to try to save anyone that didn't ask her to. As much as she would have loved to set every soul in Hell free, she knew that the contracts signed were not hers to destroy. She was here to guide people who asked for her help, not fix people that didn't want to be fixed.

"I've got a question," Velvette spoke up. She needed to get this angel's attention if they were going to try and recruit her over time, "Why you?"

"Come again?" Elida turned to see the stylish overlord with her feet kicked up on the table, tapping away at her phone.

Velvette put her phone down and looked up, "Why did the Seraphim send you? Out of all the angels in Heaven, they must have picked you for a reason."

Elida didn't want to answer that question, but she wasn't going to lie. "I was the only one willing to come help."

Alastor's grin deepened. He'd hoped this would come up. If the overlords understood that she was quite literally the only soul standing between them and war, then they were not only less likely to try anything stupid, but they would be tripping over themselves to try to ingratiate themselves to her, and by extension, him. As her host, he had an in that the others didn't. He smelled deals to be made.

"The fuck do you mean you were the only one?" Vox leaned forward, suddenly far more interested in the conversation.

Elida's face turned sad, "I was the only angel in all of Heaven willing to come down here to help. Everyone else either didn't care or were too frightened of the risks. Well, except for Sir Pentious, but they wouldn't let him come back, no matter what he said."

Everyone stared at her in silence. One soul. One soul standing between them and being erased from existence. If she left, or got herself killed, or failed, they were all fucked. There would be no replacements, no redoes, and no second chances.

"Hm, okay, so it's not that you're qualified for the job at all, it's just that you're fucking insane," another of the less powerful turf lords stated. They had all been thinking it.

Elida just shrugged, "I definitely am. Always have been. But ask yourselves this," she leaned down to the one who'd spoken, "Where would you be now if I wasn't?"

"We'd be facing war," Carmilla answered, "Which is an outcome none of us can risk." She glanced at her daughters. If losing a few souls to Heaven's gates meant her girls wouldn't be in danger of any more exterminations, she was more than happy to let the mad angel do whatever she wanted. In the meantime, she would prepare for the worst. If the exorcists returned, she would be ready.

"Anything else before we wrap this up?" Elida stood back up, turning in a circle to address the crowded room. They all whispered to each other as she waited for any other questions. No one did.

It was Alastor who spoke next, "Well, that was certainly quite informative." His static voice and cheerful tone were loud against the tension in the room, "If that's all anyone else wants to know, Elida and I have places to be." He stood up, holding out his hand to help her down. She took it and fluttered to the ground. He felt her fingers shaking, despite her face remaining controlled and calm. He gave her his arm like the gentleman he was and started towards the exit. And with that, the spell was broken. People began to file out.

"Alastor," Rosie's welcome voice called out to him.

He turned to her, always happy to hear what she had to say, "Yes, darling?"

"Bring her by the emporium, won't you? And bring that delightful princess of yours while you're at it. I'm hosting a ball next month and would love to have your lively presence there, but we'll need Elida's measurements. As for Charlie, I want to see how that sweet girl is getting on after everything. We'll have tea."

"Tea sounds great, but what do you need my measurements for?" Elida asked, "I have my own dresses."

"Not like Rosie's," Alastor corrected, "Her tailors and seamstresses are unmatched! And they're the only ones in Hell that can get blood stains out of silk without ruining it."

"Oh, you flatterer," Rosie took Alastor's other arm as they all made their way outside. For someone who never dated, he appeared to be quite the ladies' man. Some of the more insecure attendees looked at him with envy, which suited him just fine. The women on his arms were there as colleagues, not objects, which was what made the key difference between him and the ones wishing they were him. Rosie simply adored her charming little ace-in-the-hole.

Vox watched with the best poker face he could muster. Now wasn't the right time for him to approach Elida, not while Alastor was watching her like a hawk. But that old-timey prick couldn't be latched onto her arm forever. He'd watch and wait. He controlled everyone's devices down here, so he'd start small, sliding into her DM's. She'd belong to the Vees eventually. They just needed to be patient. Listening to her talk had been valuable intel. It seemed like the best way to get her under control would be to come up with a logical argument that she couldn't refute. He'd need to think of something good.

Valentino had less self-control. Before Vox or Velvette noticed he'd gone, Val had followed his prey outside. He slunk right up beside Elida. Alastor was a dick, but his quarrel was with Vox, not Val. Rosie had already excused herself and gone the other direction.

"Mind if I steal your little friend for a moment?" Val's accent dripped with false charm.

Warning bells rang in Elida's mind immediately. She did not like this person, whoever he was. But she wasn't going to judge him without anything concrete, "What is it?"

Alastor held her arm a bit tighter, "I don't know if you noticed, but we were in the middle of a conversation."

They hadn't been, but Alastor was not going to allow Valentino to try and make a deal with his angel before he could. He kept walking, practically dragging Elida beside him, head held high. She took note of his subtle reaction. That was all she needed to heed her own intuition. If Alastor didn't trust this guy, then he likely had good reason.

Valentino ignored Alastor's dismissal, instead falling into step beside them and placing a hand on Elida's narrow shoulder, "You know, I could make you a star. Here's my card." He slid a pink piece of paper shaped like a heart into her front suit pocket, "Why don't you stop by sometime? I can make sure that little hotel of yours is positively flooded with sinners trying to get a look at that pretty… face… of yours."

"I'll take that under advisement," She replied coldly. This man gave her the ick, and she had no interest in whatever kind of star he'd presume to turn her into. "Have a nice day, mister…?"

"Valentino," He stepped in front of her, forcing both her and Alastor to stop walking. Alastor's grin turned sinister, a green aura growing around him. Val ignored it, taking Elida's hand and placing what he thought was a very charming kiss on her knuckles. She resisted the urge to recoil, keeping her face blank.

"Charmed. Now if you'll excuse us, Alastor promised me dinner, and the reservation only has two seats. Have a nice day."

He hadn't. There was no reservation. But this moth-man smelled suspiciously close to the aroma left over when her aphrodisiac potions went horribly wrong. She wanted him to go away and never speak to her again. Brushing past him, Elida refused to look back toward the slimy man she knew was watching her walk away.

Alastor followed; arm still locked tightly onto hers. If her soul would belong to any overlord in Hell, it would be him. She was too powerful to allow anyone else to control her. Besides that, he was still honor bound by his own code to keep her safe. Setting someone's house on fire was not quite enough justification to revoke his protection, no matter how amusing he found it. She was a lady. Luckily, that chore would be easier now that the other overlords knew the full ramifications of killing her.

"Well, dinner then," He stated once they were far enough away to relax a bit, "I suppose I'd better find a reservation." He snapped his fingers and a strange shadow creature in a top hat appeared. "We're going to the Rose Quartz, have a table for two ready for us by the time we get there." The creature nodded and disappeared.

"You really don't have to do that; I just wanted that guy to go away." She pulled the paper out of her pocket and examined the gold lettering. "Is this some kind of porn thing? It looks like a porn thing."

"Yes, it is a porn thing." He plucked the card out of her hand and set it on fire.

"Ew."

"Ew, indeed. And I'm still taking you to dinner, you've earned it after all. You kept your composure beautifully, ha ha ha!"

It was the nicest compliment she'd gotten in a while. Usually, people just comment on her appearance. "You know what, you're right. I did. I rock." She raised her chin and followed Alastor down the street, mirroring his cocky smile. After a few blocks, they teleported the rest of the way.

When they arrived at the Rose Quartz, an old hag of a woman greeted them outside the door. "Well, if it isn't jolly old Alastor. Thought you fuckin' died. Again." Her voice was harsh and grumpy. Elida loved her immediately.

"Sister!" The angel ran to the hag, wrapping her in a crushing embrace. She didn't know this woman, but witches had a way of knowing each other on sight. This woman was her family by virtue of their practice, and she had so few people to talk to in Heaven.

"Took you long enough," The hag replied, "We've been waiting for you to show up for the past three years."

Elida didn't ask how they knew she was coming. Prophecies were easy magic if you had the ingredients.

"I believe I promised I'd take you to see your sisters. You're welcome," Alastor looked quite pleased with himself.

Elida glowed a bit brighter and moved from the hag to Alastor, squeezing him tightly, "Thank you so much! You have no idea how much I've missed having a proper coven."

He patted her awkwardly on the head, "There there, dear, a promise is a promise. Now come along," he extracted himself and opened the door for the women to enter, "Let's eat."

"We're fresh out of infant today, we can't get you your usual," the hag informed Alastor.

He waved his hand, following them through the door, "We'll try something new today."

Elida didn't want to know, so she didn't ask.

The dining area wasn't too full, but the hag led Elida and Alastor down a set of winding stairs to a circular room carved from stone and decorated with bones, dried plants, and crystals. A large bonfire that made no smoke burned in the center. It was surrounded by dancing women, all flailing and whooping about in whatever way pleased them best. Music floated in the air, making Elida want to dance too.

The hag cleared her throat loudly, getting the other witches' attention. They all froze in whatever odd positions they had been in and turned their heads in unison to face their guests. Some had to turn their necks all the way to the back of their bodies like a broken doll. When they saw Elida, they broke the position and swarmed her in a welcoming embrace. Alastor stepped respectfully aside to give them room. He did not want to be torn apart by getting in an entire coven's way. It would ruin his jacket.

Elida felt like she could cry. She could count on one hand the number of other witches she'd been able to find in Heaven, and they usually had their own families to spend eternity with. She had been so alone. She didn't care that these women were demons. Sisters were sisters. She briefly wondered how many others had fallen to exorcist blades over the years. They would be mourned later. For now, it was time to feast with her family.

Alastor enjoyed the spread they'd provided. Evidently, they'd known someone important would be arriving today and had prepared a grand party for her. There was feasting, dancing, and stories. This was the only group in the whole of the pride ring where women could dance openly naked in front of him without him being worried they would try to bed him. For them, the nudity was more about freedom than sex. They let him join their parties whenever he pleased because he had never tried to touch or photograph them. Usually, men were unwelcome in their circle.

He took another bite of roast-something, listening as Elida conversed with her new coven and enjoying the wild theatrics of witches welcoming another practitioner to their number. It was a merry gathering, and he found he had no hard time smiling through it. They were a delightful group. Elida's white light might stick out like a sore thumb, but that was the only thing that really differentiated her from the rest. Well, that, and her exceptionally fair face. Not that all the others were hags, but in terms of aesthetics, she outshined them all. Luckily, none of them seemed to mind.

She filled her belly, danced wildly in circles, and set a few things on fire. These were her people. She abandoned her blazer on the floor, which Alastor retrieved. No sense allowing such a fine piece to be trampled. She might've stripped down entirely if Alastor weren't there, but she was not nearly comfortable enough with him for that. He seemed queer in some way, but he didn't seem vibrantly gay enough for her to be sure. If it were someone like Angel Dust she wouldn't care.

Someone gave Alastor a drum when he'd finished eating. He took a seat on the ground and tapped happily away at the instrument for hours. It wasn't until the clock struck midnight that the witches finally declared the feast over. The pair were sent off into the night smelling like magic, crowns of dried flowers placed on their heads. Alastor grinned cheerfully back to the hag as she kissed Elida's cheeks and disappeared back inside.

He was still holding Elida's blazer. She yawned, light dimming, wiped out from all the exertion. Alastor snapped his fingers to summon a motor car that brought them safely back to the hotel. Elida nearly fell asleep on the way back, but startled back awake when a sharp finger poked her in the temple to prevent her head from falling onto the shoulder beside her.

When they got back, everyone else was still awake, sitting at the bar sharing a drink. Nifty was sloshed. Alastor placed his flower crown on her head and picked her up to send her to bed. She would never go to sleep when she was drunk if someone didn't make her.

"Where the fuck did you guys just come from?" Angel raised an eyebrow at the flowers, "I thought you was just goin' to some boring-ass meeting?"

"Alastor took me to meet my sisters." Elida's sleepy voice explained. "Why are you still awake? It's like 1am."

Angel just took another drink, shrugging. Elida yawned again, and dismissed herself, disappearing into her room for a well-earned sleep. It had been a long day.

She dreamed of drums, firelight, and dancing under the moon.