37

Isobel hesitated a beat as she got a look at the driver of the van, a buxom gray hellhound with long hair and red eyes. The hound glanced back at her with an uninterested expression as Isobel tried to find a section of the back seat not stained or filthy. They were driving again before the door behind her slid to a close.

"Christ, took you long enough," the imp up front exclaimed.

"Sorry, not used to getting into strange vans with strange people."

"Yeah? Well, I'm not used to being a babysitter for some sinner that Fizz thinks is some kind of fucking charity case." At this point Isobel pushed back her hood and leaned over the front seat, the better to talk to the two now dictating her fate. The imp took one look at her and balked. "Holy shit, you're not a sinner, what the fuck are you doing here?"

"You can tell just like that?"

"I know a living person when I see one. They're gross."

"Thanks a lot."

"Sorry, toots, I call 'em like I see 'em. I mean I saw you on TV, but I thought that was just some kind of gimmick, makeup or something, you know. But here you are in the actual, fucking flesh, comIng to ruin my night."

"Hey, fuck you, I didn't ruin your night. I wasn't even the one that called you."

At this the hellhound tilted her head toward Isobel and said, "he wasn't doing anything anyway."

"Thank you, Loona," the imp said through clenched teeth, but she continued.

"When he got the call he was literally sitting in his underwear watching the TV."

"God damn it, Loona." She was ruining his important, tough guy vibe. She laughed in the way a teenager laughs when they're poking fun at their dad. "Anyway," he said, trying to change the subject. "You need a drink? I need a drink."

They drove to a small bar. A hole in the wall, a place far enough off the beaten path that they were ensured time and privacy. They sat in a back corner booth, Loona against the wall, her eyes glued to her phone, the imp next to her. Isobel sat across from them.

"Alright, what'll you have," he said looking for a server.

"Whatever, it all tastes bad."

"Amen, to that." It was clear he was a regular. As he raised his hand, a server across the bar nodded and set to work, obviously making his unusual.

In the pale fluorescent light, Isobel could see them clearly. She was tall and pretty for a dog-person with a big, fluffy black tail. Her long silvery hair covered one eye which complimented an overall goth persona, heavy makeup and pentagram t-shirt. He wore a black suit and boots. Though he sported the black and white horns that were common on all male imps, he lacked any hair, just spikes running down the back of his head. He had a black emblem on his forehead that Isobel did not recognize, and white scarring over half of his red face.

"I feel like I'm at a bit of a disadvantage here," Isobel said after a slight pause. "You know my name somehow, but I don't know yours."

"Right, well this," he jutted a thumb to his side. "Is Loona."

"Hey," the hellhound answered dryly without looking up.

"And I'm Blitz, the O is silent."

Isobel furrowed her eyebrows as she tried to figure out where there was an O in Blitz when a very sullen female imp arrived at their table, drinks in hand. She had a lazy eye and one of her horns had been broken. Before putting the glasses down she turned to him, a deeply unimpressed expression on her face.

"This time you pay up front, douchebag," she said with a voice that sounded like she smoked five packs a day for about 30 years.

"Oh, yeah, I, uh," Blitz patted himself down, checking all the pockets in his tattered suit. Isobel saw where this was going and sighed as she reached into her back pocket. She laid out some money on the table. It was what she had stolen from Beatrice and Eustis.

The server snatched it up and left the drinks, three pints of what Isobel thought was beer. However, when she tried it she found it much sweeter, almost sickly sweet, and thicker. She couldn't decide if she liked whatever it was or not, but that didn't stop her from drinking. She almost finished the entire glass in one go before slamming it back down.

"Ok, so who called you to pick me up?"

"You don't know?" Blitz said, putting his own glass down. "Looks like you got friends in high places."

"Well, I can't say this hasn't happened before, but…"

"The clown called me, said something about you being lost, and maybe people are after you. Something. To be honest, I wasn't really listening."

"Right," Isobel ran her hands through her hair. "So what happens now?"

"We wait," Blitz held up his glass. "And we drink."

"Fine," Isobel shook her head, resolved. After all, what else was she going to do? So they sat, drank, and talked just passing time. Isobel found she instantly liked Blitz. He was funny and easy to talk to.

About an hour later the little bell over the front door of the bar jingled as someone entered. It was the Great Fizzarolli dressed like a person trying to be inconspicuous, but failing terribly. He wore a long trench coat and a pair of large sunglasses. However, the trench coat was an audacious shade of turquoise and the sunglasses had rhinestones all around the rims. He saw them immediately and came over, sitting next to Isobel in the booth.

Blitz burst out laughing.

"Nice getup, Fizz, you do realize it's the middle of the night. How can you even see?"

"It's called being incognito, fuck face," Fizzarolli fired back tearing the glasses off his face.

"Yeah, real understated. Anyway," Blitz gestured to Isobel. "You rang, I delivered."

Fizzarolli turned his attention to her, "alright spill it."

"What?" she asked.

"I thought you were being dramatic or something, but then you almost ruin my show, took up way too much time performing, then jumped off the fucking stage just to get away."

"I saw that," Blitz interjected. "It was kind of badass."

"And then those pricks from Pride were super pissed and insisted on finding you. So while Oz dealt with them, I called Blitz to pick you up before you could cause any more trouble. Anyone worth this much effort has got to have a story, so spill. For real this time."

Isobel sighed as the server brought more drinks. She had given Fizzarolli the condensed version before, but now she went into detail. She told them everything. Though Loona paid very little attention to any of it, Fizz and Blitz listened attentively.

As the story unraveled, they drank more and more and by the time she wrapped up, they were all rather tipsy. Even Isobel decided to drop her guard and drank pint after pint.

"So it comes down to this," she finally said. "I just want to get home, but to do that, first I have to find someone to open a portal to the living world. And I need to do it soon before Enki figures out I'm missing. The closest I ever got was at the Harvest Moon Festival. I almost got to talk to the prince there."

Isobel noticed the Fizz and Blitz shared a look, but decided not to ask about it.

"Well, simple," Blitz said, turning to Fizz. "Just get one of your boy toy's crystals. Zip, zap," he snapped her fingers. "Send her back before an angel shows up and kills us all."

"It's not that simple," Fizzarolli said. He saw the disappointment mixed with confusion on Isobel's face. "Asmodeus has these crystals that some of his employees use to access the living world."

"Oh, that sounds perfect," she got excited again.

"But they're meant for imps and hellbourn, specifically not for living people. It's supposed to be a security thing so living souls can't just come through the portals. They tend to just bounce off."

"Come on," Blitz said, trying to force the issue. "What's the point of fucking the big man in Lust if he can't help you out with things like this?"

Fizz side eyed him, "I've got my reasons."

"I know you do," Blitz drunkenly made a gesture, repeatedly thrusting his finger in and out of the O he made with his other thumb and forefinger. Isobel snickered. She couldn't help it, the two bickered like an old married couple. And being that they were all drunk, it made it even funnier.

"I hate to say it, but…" Fizz said as he glared at Blitz, who sighed and hung his head as he finished the sentence.

"We need Stolas. Fan-fucking-tastic."

"That was the name of the owl guy," Isobel said. "You know him?"

Fizz leaned in with a very self satisfied smile like he was just about to spill the tea. "Oh, he knows him alright. They're boyfriends."

"Fuck you," Blitz said taking another drink.

"Really?" Isobel's eyebrows raised as she tried to imagine how the size difference could possibly work. Blitz was pretty tall for an imp, about five feet, just a few inches shorter than her. But Stolas was fucking huge, easily double that of his 'boyfriend's' height.

"It's not like that," he said defensively. "It's business." He seemed embarrassed. He probably was often made fun of by Fizz, maybe even others. Isobel felt like she could understand a bit how he felt.

"Hey, man," she said. "No judgment from me. I mean, I was sleeping with a Demon Overlord back in Pride, so I don't have any moral high ground here."

"Oooo," Fizz was excited for a new tid bit of gossip. "Was that the 'protector' you had mentioned before?" He leaned in, putting his elbows on the table and his chin in his hands.

She had purposefully glazed over her relationship with Alastor when she told her story. Unfortunately, she had not expected Fizz to remember her mentioning him from her rant earlier.

"Yeah, yeah," Isobel tried to brush it off. "It's not like it's romantic, it's more like a trade. Like I scratch his back, he scratches mine, kind of thing."

Fizzarolli started laughing uproariously, so much so he almost knocked his drink over. Isobel glared at him, hands splayed and shoulders shrugged.

"I'm sorry," he said, wiping tears from his eyes. "I've just heard it before, specifically from this one." He pointed at Blitz, who rolled his eyes while hiding behind his glass. "What did you call it? A transactional fucking?" He laughed some more.

"It was true," Blitz mumbled.

"Yeah, and then what happened?" Fizz turned back to Isobel as it seemed that Blitz was now refusing to listen. "What happened was they both caught feelings, whether he admits or not, and now he's fucked."

"Yeah, I'm fucked," Blitz miserably agreed and drank some more. "But you're fucked too."

Fizz just shrugged. Isobel smiled at them, but apparently the Great Fizzarolli was not one to let things slide.

"So what's this Overlord like?" He asked again, wiggling his eyebrows and batting his eyelashes.

She suddenly felt very uncomfortable, "I don't know. I haven't seen him in a while, you know."

"Oh, ok," he said, feigning disinterest. "I mean, I can understand you not wanting to talk about it. Especially if you never really liked the guy."

"Well, of course I liked him," Isobel said. She didn't want them to think she was just using sex to exploit shitty people. Fizz rounded on her, she had played right into his hands.

"What do you like about him?"

"Oh, um," her mind went suddenly blank due to the combination of being put on the spot and the influence of booze.

"Would you just leave her alone?" Blitz protested. "We have other things to think about."

"I want to know. Plus what is there left to think about? You're going to call Stolas and convince him to help. How hard is that going to be?"

"Oh, fuck me," Blitz loudly complained.

Fizz turned back to Isobel ready to continue his game.

"We'll start with something easy. What's something physical that you like about him."

"Yeah, like is his dick the size of a kaiju?"

"Shhhh," Fizz hissed at Blitz, shushing him.

"Fine, I like," Isobel sighed, thinking. She just needed something to appease them. "I like his fluffy little deer tail."

Blitz snorted mid swallow spraying the table.

"Sorry, sorry," he said, holding his nose. "Just not expecting that."

They all laughed until Fizz said, "what else?"

"Um, I like that he has really long legs."

"Nice," Fizz nodded. "I think we can all get behind that. What else?"

Isobel was now feeling very drunk and laughed to herself. "I like hanging on to his antlers when I have an orgasm."

"Shit, now that's what I'm talking about," Blitz thumped the table as Fizz giggled and Isobel continued.

"I, uh, like his stupid hair cut, and when he uses his ridiculous 1930s slang. I like dancing with him. Aaaaaand I like how my name sounds when he says it."

Isobel suddenly froze. Her eyes darted to meet Fizz, shock covering her face.

"Oh," she said. "I'm fucked."

Nodding Fizz agreed, "you're fucked."

"Totally fucked," Blitz piped in as he took another swig.