"This is a terrible idea."

"So you've said."

"Yes, but you don't seem to be listening to me."

Wyr stood, brushing her salty hands on her shorts. She wiped at the sweat on her brow and turned to O'Malley, standing outside the freshly drawn salt circle, who was looking out over the lake below their bluff. The fog had lifted when they found the barren yew tree atop the cliff like the cemetery knew what its caretaker needed to do tonight and was granting them an easy road. Whilst the magic in Wyr's lantern granted them access to the cemetery, it was Wyr's power that pushed back the fog. It was very rare for the cemetery to react like this, like it could sense her intentions and was holding back the curtains for her. It left Wyr to tunnel into her own power, to breath her inherent magic in and out, drawing it to the surface.

"I'm running out of options here Mal."
O'Malley looked disdainfully at the chalk outline on the tree trunk, and the salt circle surrounding Wyr.
"If she hasn't reached out to you, maybe you shouldn't reach out to her. And crazy, I know, but this wasn't your problem to begin with. You're involving yourself again."
Wyr grit her teeth, trying not to let her emotions be clouded by O'Malley's words. It wasn't her fault. Wyr had admitted everything, it had all come out in a rush when she'd gotten home the other morning. From the throne room to the library, the book he'd gifted her and to the feel of Lucifer against her body. It would have been impossible to keep it all a secret, and in the midst of that, she'd told O'Malley about the plans to change Heaven's decision on the exterminations.
There had been no response from Michael yet when Wyr had been so sure it would do something. But Wyr had one more ace up her sleeve, and if it meant helping Lucifer, she wasn't sure she could just ignore that. Wyr had managed in Hell for six hundred years, only seven of which she'd been held up in a bargain…This wouldn't be the stone that crushed her or the last piece of kindling to her pyre.

"You don't have to stay if you don't want to. But I need to speak with her." O'Malley scoffed.
"You want to meddle again. The last time you meddled you got saddled with the gag order remember? You're dealing with a madwoman." Wyr shot her friend a look.
"You know I hate that term. She's not mad…She's hurt. And she was trying to help me" she pointed out.

"You were an easy target for once."

O'Malley shook her head, eyes turning downcast. Wyr crossed her arms across her chest, feeling a phantom cool breeze as she looked up into the bare, dead branches of the tree. There was a patch of skin across her torso that felt numb most days...For a moment, it tingled. She had to reach out. For Lucifer, for Charlie, for Alastor, whose involvement was still a mystery, but she knew he needed this to succeed. So Wyr would ask for help.

"You're a pawn in a game we don't understand Wyr. Why don't you get that?"
She knew that. It rankled, knowing that what she was involving herself in was more than just trying to get some death certificates filled out. This was Heaven and Hell…And she was just a Sinner.
"Are you going to stay and make sure I don't get myself into trouble? Or should I expel you from the grounds?"
"How will Lucifer feel when he finds out you went behind his back like this?"
In the center of the circle, Wyr set down her basket of apples. More like dropped it. A few of the fruits tumbled over the lip, rolling out of reach. Wyr shot O'Malley a look who looked at the apples pointedly.
"He doesn't need to know."
"But he'll find out, and when he does, don't you think this would be a big slap in the face?" Wyr gathered the apples, shoving them back into the basket. She knew he'd feel betrayed. But wasn't it better if the meeting happened regardless of whether she interfered? Wyr thought of the look on his face, the hopelessness she'd seen as he admitted he was failing. She couldn't face that look again. Didn't want him to feel that way again.
"He won't find out."
O'Malley crossed her arms and sat at the edge of the circle, her tail lashing back and forth in agitation. She didn't say anything, didn't need to when Wyr could practically feel the disappointment rolling off her in waves.

He won't find out.

Wyr's mind drifted to Lucifer as she picked over the apples they'd picked. He'd been so confused by her topic change that when she'd pulled herself from the bed and found her dress lying atop the armchair in the room, he'd said nothing as she'd ducked into the bathroom and changed. When she'd come back out, he'd already dressed. Wyr flushed, remembering the soft pyjama pants he'd worn and the yellow hooded jumper. She'd never seen him in anything so relaxed before. It made her yearn to see him in it again. For it to be normal between them.

He'd led her straight to the orchard, a place filled with hundreds of apple trees, all vibrant and fruiting and stunning. She'd almost thought she was dreaming. The awkwardness that she'd felt as thick as honey between them in the bed had faded as Lucifer led her on his arm to the gardens. He'd rallied so quickly she was almost embarrassed to leave after picking out a few of the fruits, but if she'd stayed any longer…With the memory of how his body felt against hers, Wyr wouldn't have been able to go. He'd wanted her, and she'd been so close to just letting it happen.
They hadn't spoken about the morning, instead letting it get buried under their back and forth on Wyr's work and Michael's absence. They couldn't know if the silence was good or bad, but with Lucifer's slower and slower replies, she knew he was on the cusp of giving up.
The apples had been a half-baked idea, brought on by the ghost of a dream she'd had that night. It was better to have them, than to be without a means of contacting the only person Wyr knew who might be able to sway Heaven.

Wyr pulled a familiar apple from the basket and smiled down at it fondly. Lucifer had picked it out for her and insisted he knew what he was doing.
You'll love this one. I promise. It reminds me of you.
It wasn't like the other apples in her basket, not a Pink Lady, McIntosh, or those stunningly red Red Delicious'. It was squat, a mix of green and yellow and not at all what she would have guessed would be called an apple. Lucifer had pulled out a knife and cut her a slice of one, his smile warm and tender as he held it out to her.
It's called a D'Arcy variety. Just trust me okay? Try it.
Wyr had thought he was poking fun at her and her choice of books from last night but the look in his eyes as he'd described the different apples he chose for her basket told her this was a passion. It wasn't a joke. So she'd taken the slice and ignored the way her fingers lingered on his.
The memory of the sweet, spicy flavour, and the juice that had dribbled from her mouth as she quickly bit her way through the rest of the slices he cut for her made her mouth water. He'd talked over her crunching, explaining why it tasted so sweet, slightly spiced, slightly wine-like, and the desserts it would be best for.

Wyr placed the fruit in the centre of the circle and passed the basket to O'Malley. The pirate set the basket down and pulled out one of the discarded apples, biting into it as she watched, frowning.
"Did you pick the ugliest apple out of spite? Because if so, that's fucking hilarious."
Wyr chose to ignore the pirate. The demon wasn't the sentimental type, and would absolutely poke fun at her. There wasn't time for that now.

Over time Wyr had gotten used to performing spells without the moon to guide her to the witching hour. It had taken a few decades to get the hang of feeling out the most potent time for magic and once she'd understood the tight feeling in her skin, and the prickle of sparks that danced along her fingers, it was time to begin her incantation.
Wyr had spent the day tunnelling into the source of her magic and preparing the salt she used for the circle. She pulled out the small, folded piece of paper from her pocket and read over the Gaelic scrawled there in blood. Her arm was still sore from the bloodletting she'd done to fill her inkwell, but the words were crisp and the dried blood was a dark brown on the parchment.

Words rolled off her tongue as she stood, holding out her hands above the apple and piece of paper. Wyr repeated her incantation three times, and the salt began to glow, sending wobbly shadows across the clearing. She couldn't turn away from the centre of the circle but knew O'Malley had backed up, could hear their breaths both sharpen as above their heads the pattern of the salt circle appeared in the sky. Magic skittered along Wyr's skin, static causing her hair to frizz in its braid, and the fur of her legs to stand straight up.
From the pattern mirrored in the sky came a swirling glow, reminding Wyr of Lucifer's golden portals from the other night. She always felt like there should be a gust of wind at this moment when a bubbling laugh echoed from the circle.

"Well, well! I should have known to expect a call from you."

Wyr heard O'Malley's muttered curse as from the white circle above, a woman descended. Her dark hair shimmered in the light spilling from the portal, a direct link to Heaven, and her teeth glinted in a wolfish smile. Her olive skin seemed to glow from beneath as hazel eyes landed on Wyr. When she landed softly within the circle, the woman was already grabbing Wyr and bringing her in close, air kissing both cheeks.
When she pulled back, she wiggled her fingers at O'Malley on the outskirts of the circle, sharp nails glittering in the glowing salt. The portal dimmed, and the glowing pattern above them dimmed, still holding the spell, but dormant until Wyr opened it again.

Eve set her hands on her hips and looked Wyr up and down approvingly.
"You're looking good, darling. Freedom looks good on you." Wyr pasted the smile across her face, hoping Eve wouldn't take it as a threat.

"I've always been free, Eve."

Eve's laugh was a patronising giggle, smiling at her like Wyr was a small child.

"Of course sweetheart. That's why you made a deal."

It wasn't worth the argument. Wasn't worth ticking Eve off when the woman flicked back and forth from helpful to hurtful faster than even Alastor could. Force of habit brought Wyr's hands to be clasped in front of her as Eve picked up the apple from the ground, looking over it.
"Was this the best you could come up with? You know I prefer that new variety the earthlings just created…What was it called? Oh, yes, the Jazz one. I hear they're the sweetest-"
"It's a heritage variety, I thought you might appreciate the difference." Eve's nose wrinkled and she tossed her hair back, examining the oblong little fruit. Her smile was a sneer, lips perfectly plump.
"Very kind, sweetheart, I'm sure. But next time, stick to the script. That's how this works, alright?" Wyr nodded, burying the anger and annoyance at Eve's tone. It wasn't worth it.
"Of course." Eve crossed her arms and looked Wyr up and down.
"Alright, so? You called me, sweetheart. What can Evie help you with tonight?"

"Lucifer has been trying to set up a meeting with Heaven for his daughter."

Eve clicked her tongue and nodded, examining her nails.
"I know. It's all over Heaven. I suppose all those photos of that girl were your idea?" Wyr nodded jerkily. She didn't appreciate the deprecating way Eve mentioned Charlie. After spending hours looking at the princess' life, and the father who raised her, it would be impossible to say Wyr didn't care for the young woman.
"Her name is-"
"I don't care what her name is. She's his spawn. That's all I need to know." She said it so lightly, one could be fooled into thinking Eve didn't care...But her smile was sharp, and disinterested air didn't cover up the way her eyebrows drew tight.
For a being who had manipulated her way into a deal with Wyr, Eve almost pulled off bored. But Wyr could see the nervous rap of her high-heeled boot on the ground and the way she focused too hard on the opalescent colour painted over her nails. Eve was interested, and as soon as Wyr said his name, she saw the way Eve's fingers spasmed over the apple.
"You say you don't care, but you certainly care about Lucifer." Eve's chest rose and fell twice before she looked down at Wyr, raising her brow.
"Because I kept you alive? Sweetie, you know you don't understand what your betters are up to right? Stop trying to keep up…It's just sad now."
It took Wyr a moment to remember where she was, with the flash of fury that burned in her throat. Sparks danced along her fingers, blood pounding in demand for an apology. Eve smirked and studied her nails, ignoring the flare of power coming off Wyr.

"Did you just remember how young you truly are? 629 years of existence is nothingto eternity."

"Do you know what Michael will decide?" Wyr bit out, trying not to choke on the ashes coating her tongue. Eve looked up from her nails with a sardonic smile.
"Already giving up? You've gone soft witch. I can hardly believe you were the one to blow up half a district so short a time ago."

Wyr glanced to O'Malley, whose grim-lined face spoke volumes. She was pacing around the outside of the circle, fists tightly clenched. She kept her mouth shut, and it was possibly the only thing keeping her safe from the predator Wyr had called down. O'Malley stilled when they caught each other's gaze, and the pirate nodded soundly. It was as much a hug as she'd allow, and it was an affirmation that if Wyr made a stupid, awful decision, the pirate would back her up. Even if it meant death.
Wyr didn't like bringing up that day. It had been a complete failure, and she'd been the catalyst for blowing up the Doomsday District. Despite all her work, she'd lost her oldest friend (she had thought), and almost died in the process. Eve had arrived when Wyr had been at her weakest, and it was used against her.
Wyr chose to let the comments slide, leaning on the image of Lucifer the other night. His downcast eyes when she tried to reassure him. The way he'd cried, thinking of Charlie dying… She could hold her tongue and take the shots. Just as long as she got what she wanted in the end. Eve might treat her like a pawn…But it didn't mean Wyr had to act like one.

"So you don't know which way Michael is leaning?"

Eve pouted, huffing and crossing her arms like a child. Wyr latched onto that image.

"Of course, my apologies, I mean, how could you? I guess Heaven's hierarchy is still rock solid. Perhaps if you went to-" Eve's shriek of fury cut her off and sharp nails pierced Wyr's neck as Eve gripped her by the throat. The childish Eve had vanished, replaced by a vengeful woman with eyes glowing white and dark raven-like wings arching up behind her. She was suffocating Wyr, smothering her with holy power that made Wyr's blood burn.
"Say his name, witch. I dare you." Eve's voice sent tremors through the earth, forcing Wyr to clutch at the hand wrapped around her throat to steady herself. Eve's skin felt cold to the touch compared to how Wyr's body felt as though it was burning. She couldn't speak, couldn't manage an apology, couldn't call out to O'Malley. Dark spots clouded her vision as Eve's grip got tighter.

"Let her go!"

There was a vivid flash of steel, and Wyr was released. She dropped to her knees as her hooves gave out, coughing as she tried to draw in too much air. Iron coated her tongue. She raised her head, looking up at Eve. Wyr touched her neck, seeing the blood dripping from the angel's hand, and smeared the wetness with her fingers. Swallowing, her throat clicked painfully. Oh she would be in so much trouble.
Eve's hand was slack, Wyr's blood dripping from her fingers, as with the other hand, she held a small dagger clenched in her fist by the blade. Wyr looked to O'Malley, who was straightening up, chest heaving. They shared a look and Wyr nodded to her. Gratitude washed over her, threatening to choke her. Wyr struggled to her hooves. Eve dropped the dagger and looked at the streak of golden blood now sluggishly dripping from the slash in her palm, she didn't look so avenging now, glowing eyes going back to hazel as she examined the slash, almost like a child would look at a worm.
Was she supposed to apologise? Eve was mercurial and childlike.

"Well. I think we both got a little out of hand there."

She pressed her thumb into the slash in her hand and her breath sharpened into a hiss. There was a golden flash, and Wyr winced as it burned her eyes but when it died down, Eve was wiping the blood on her pants and the slash had disappeared. O'Malley stood, ready to step into the circle when Eve straightened and flicked a sharp smile her way.
"You can call your dog off sweetheart. I think I'll be on my way."
"But what-" Wyr coughed, holding her throat as her words scraped through. She sounded like she'd been burnt alive again, her throat as hoarse as if she'd screamed her way into a second death. The taste of iron cut through ash and Wyr tried to swallow back the pooling of blood at the back of her throat.
"I'll talk to Michael" Eve interrupted, picking up the D'Arcy apple that had been dropped in their scuffle. She dusted it off onto her pants and eyed it warily.
Wyr tried to speak, but blood had begun filling her throat and instead, she choked, coughing up blood. Eve stepped back from the spray on the dirt, eying it disapprovingly.
"A war is coming. No matter what you do, it's on its way." Eve's voice was tight, more serious than Wyr had heard her before. "You know what side you must be on. Consider it a freebie for today. As proof that we're a team."

She bit into the apple, then grimaced.

"Jazz next time. No more of this heritage nonsense. You're not Lucifer."

The portal above opened with a flash of light, bathing the three in bright light. Eve flapped her wings once and shot skyward, disappearing into the portal as quickly as she had arrived. The portal closed once she'd passed and Wyr dropped like a stone. O'Malley was already scuffing the salt circle, breaking it as she hurried to Wyr's side.
Her hands were shaking, Wyr realised, as O'Malley dropped beside her, hot fingers reaching for her neck to examine the punctures. She couldn't tell how bad they were but knew by O'Malley's expression that she'd be in for a lecture once she was healed.
Not one to let her friend bleed out, O'Malley pulled a scrap of cloth from her pocket and tied it around Wyr's throat, tight enough to stem the flow of blood, but not to cut off her oxygen.
She hoisted Wyr up and Wyr's hooves felt skittish on the dirt.
"Can you stand on your own?" O'Malley was gruff, their eyes only briefly meeting until Wyr nodded once, hand on her throat. O'Malley let her go and picked up the lantern and Wyr's basket. She came back to Wyr and wrapped her arm around Wyr's waist, leading her from the bluff and into the growing fog.
"When we get home, you're in so much trouble" she grunted.


"What. Did. You. Do?"

If Wyr's esophagus wasn't filled with blood, she might have answered when Alastor met them at her apartment. O'Malley had dumped her on the couch with a terse "Don't bleed to death until he gets here."
Alastor didn't knock, but burst into the room with a snarling grin on his face. It was out of place for the dangerous tone in his voice as he rounded the couch, grip tight on his microphone. Wyr pointed to her throat meaningfully.

Would that I could tell you, Al.

"Every demon with even an ounceof power could feel whatever you were doing out there! What did you do?"

O'Malley could still speak, despite the five shots of vodka she'd downed since dumping Wyr on the couch.
"She called her little friend down from Upstairs."

Way to dump her in the deep end.

Radio static rent the quiet apartment, and his neck clicked aggressively to the side as he looked from O'Malley to Wyr. She should have realised he would feel the power released by Eve's tantrum. Wyr had hoped doing the spell in the deepest part of the cemetery would have dampened the out wave, but she'd been wrong.
It wasn't that she had kept it a secret from Alastor…But they hadn't been able to sit down and talk about what had happened all those years ago. He knew some things, sure…But she hadn't exactly been able to tell him about Eve. She'd thought he was dead after all.
"You have a friend…From Heaven, my dear?"

O'Malley snorted, pouring herself another glass of vodka.
"I wouldn't say she's a friend, dickhead. Friends don't usually stab each other in the throat."
"Maybe not yours, but you always had terrible taste." Wyr looked to O'Malley, who pounded back her drink before flipping the radio demon off.
"So do you apparently." Wyr wanted to remind them she was right there, and she was currently mute, not deaf when Alastor turned his burning gaze back to her.
"You haven't told me about this little upstairs friend of yours, my dear. Care to share?"

No, she did not care to share. In fact, she wanted to heal her neck and get the fuck to sleep. It was past three. They should have all been tucked into their respective beds…Not congregating in her apartment and talking about Eve's portent of doom.
Wyr pointed to her table, then wiggled her fingers at Alastor to pull her up. He did, though reluctant, and Wyr stumbled towards the work table, dizzy from the blood loss. The punctures had already clotted, but she could feel the tears in her esophagus. It would take a day or two at this rate, but that's what her potions were for.

A wooden chest sat under her table, not locked because nobody was stupid enough to steal from her. Inside, some of her best creations were organised into neat rows. She plucked a tiny amber bottle from the rows and uncorked it. Alastor took a step back, nose wrinkling.
"What is that?"
Wyr held the bottle to her lips, holding her breath as within three gulps, she finished the contents. It burned its way down her throat, searing her insides and filling the holes within. There was no gentle prickle like Lucifer's seraphim magic, just brute force. Her claws bit into the wooden lid of the chest. Her body turned hot, sweat pouring off her in drips as he throat stitched itself back together.
Her vision turned spotty and black as she tried to push herself up, and strong hands caught her under her arms, leading her back to the couch. She dropped like a stone when Alastor let go and gasped at the jerk of her neck.

It was minutes before the waves of heat subsided. Opening her eyes, the lights cast a harsh glow over Alastor, still standing in front of her, the look on his face suggesting she better talk, and fast.
"Water."
"I'm going to throw this glass at your face, you bitch." O'Malley poured Wyr a glass of water and shoved it into her shaking hands. The pirate stood beside Alastor, glaring at Wyr in stark contrast to Alastor's grin.
Goodie
Both her friends were pissed. A bit unfair considering she could have almost died at Eve's hands an hour prior. The water washed away the taste of blood, ash and the astringent, burning potion. There was a nasty film coating her tongue, and Wyr knew she probably looked as though she were five seconds off dying on her couch, but the potion had done its job. Her throat moved as she swallowed, and made a small humming noise, testing out her vocal chords.
"Where should I start?" Her voice was croaky, more husky than usual. Alastor pointed at the small potion bottle.
"Just what was in your little bottle, my dear?" Wyr frowned. Alastor only had the hard questions to ask tonight, and she wanted to avoid every single one. Her bed was calling her name from the other room, and she wanted to check in on Lucifer. Maybe check her phone to see if he'd sent her a message. Maybe he'd sent her a 'goodnight' message like he had the past three nights. Wyr swallowed the smile she'd felt and sighed at her hands in her lap. O'Malley began loudly tapping her boot on the wooden floor. The pirate knew what the bottle was, and knew when she'd brewed it…But seemed intent on making Wyr reveal the secrets she'd been holding for so many years.

"It's a fast-acting recovery potion."

Alastor nodded, grin twitching as he cocked his head at her.
"Elaborate."
She groaned and leaned back into the couch, staring up at the ceiling, rather than Alastor's dangerous look.
"It'll speed up a Sinner's healing abilities, and improve your chances of healing from angelic steel." Wyr looked at her friend and pointed a strong finger at him, tone firm.
"It is not to be trifled with. And it can't be mass-produced. It's not a magic cure-all. The magic inside works to speed up our body's natural healing. It doesn't set bones so if you take it, but don't set a broken bone, it'll heal it wrong." Wyr watched O'Malley roll her eyes and turn to Alastor, who had shadows flicking and twitching around the floor surrounding him.
"She created it after we thought you were dead and she'd recovered. Thanks for that by the way, for not telling us you were still alive. Kind of shitty don't you think?" The shadows seemed to slow in their mad twitching and Alastor's smile dropped, only for a second. Enough for Wyr to see the depth of emotion that passed over him. She tried to smile for him, to cover up the old ache of grief she'd felt for years after he'd disappeared.
"Mal has the gist of it…"
"I'm more interested in what you mean by recovered, my dear. What do you mean, recovered?"
Oh, the tender meat of the situation. O'Malley snorted and flopped down on the couch next to Wyr, jabbing her with an elbow. Wyr shot her friend a dirty look. Thanks for that. O'Malley smirked. That's for ignoring my warning.
Alastor tapped his microphone on Wyr's knee, his smile tight. Wyr closed her eyes tightly, rubbing at the tired itchiness there. It came out in a rush of garbled words, because why wouldn't she want to rush through this? Ripping of bandaids was good.
"During that…fight, after I saw you…Disappear, I guess" more like have his insides spill outside and bleed out into shadows "Well…The Vees rounded on me and they got in a lucky shot." She turned her back on them because she'd been looking for Alastor. "I almost died."

O'Malley shoved her again, shaking her head.

"You didn't almost die. You died. Just about scared the shit out of me too, bitch."
Alastor narrowed his eyes as he looked between them, and then focused on Wyr.
"And in comes in your little friend upstairs, I presume?" Wyr nodded reluctantly.
"And just who is your little friend?" Wyr wanted to bark back at him, ask him who his friend was, because they both knew they were bound by certain deals, and Wyr had picked up enough cues from him to know he was bound far more tightly than Eve had done to her. But it wouldn't do anything, except piss him off, and Wyr didn't want that. She wanted them to work together again like old times.

"Eve brokered a deal with me."

Every light in the apartment flickered violently as the sound of radio static sent Wyr and O'Malley clapping their hands over their ears. An eerie green glow burst out of the darkness and Alastor's deadly grin showed off the sharpened grimace of his teeth.

"You what?" Aggravation burned at her fingertips as Wyr looked up at Alastor's version of a tantrum. She was exhausted, she was in pain, and she smelled like dirt and sweat and the waft of ozone that came when interacting with Heaven. So instead of trying to explain, she grabbed the hem of her shirt and yanked it up.

Alastor's radio screeching died, leaving the apartment in silence as the lights flickered back on, harsh light making them all wince. Wyr let go of the hem, and let her hands fall to her lap. Nobody spoke for a few minutes, and Wyr shifted over on the couch, opening a space on her other side. She watched the radio demon, who debated only for a moment before he sat beside her, crossing one leg over the other as he rolled the staff of his microphone over his lap.

"I wasn't trying to hide it from you. I just didn't know when to bring it up."

Their shoulders brushed together, softly, like a gentle touch of the hand. She felt his hand brush against hers briefly, for only a second.
"She manipulated you."
Wyr shrugged, with a small smile.
"I was dying…Kind of an easy target, don't you think?"
"Why did you have to be such an altruist, darling?"

O'Malley snorted from Wyr's other side.
"Don't pretend like you don't love it. You know if she was a mite bit more selfish we'd probably be her underlings, not her friends."
"Speak for yourself pirate." Wyr leaned her head back against the couch. O'Malley was gearing up some insult to throw at Alastor.
"It doesn't matter. The point is, Alastor is that I made a deal with Eve, and I called her down tonight to confirm whether or not there will be a meeting with Heaven." Alastor stiffened beside her.
"And did you get an answer?"

"She got stabbed in the throat for baiting Eve." Wyr squeezed her eyes shut, feeling a tension headache forming. She'd not done the smart thing. Eve could have torn her apart…Should have…But Wyr remembered her warning.
A war is coming. No matter what you do, it's on its way.
"She's going to sway Michael. I think we'll have a chance."
Wyr didn't mention Eve's warning to the radio demon. There was no need to worry about some potential war. Not yet at least.
Wyr felt O'Malley's eyes on her, boring holes into her side. The pirate knew exactly what she was thinking…Knew exactly what she was withholding. Wyr ignored the glare.

Eve could have been messing with her. She probably was insane like O'Malley believed. She'd been held in the garden with Adam for hundreds of years before the apple debacle. Eve knew about her history with Lucifer…Maybe this was all a ploy.

It had to be, right?