This short story is set around two years after the end of the War.

Thanks to my amazing beta anywhoozles!

***—***

Malbonte glared in frustration at the memoranda and maps laid out on his desk. Discord had broken out in yet another of Hell's poorer districts and he had been in consultation with Beelzebub on the best way to distribute the guards and keep the bloodshed to a minimum. The rot here was even more insidious than it had been at the Citadel and more difficult to treat. Like bindweed roots, it permeated the very foundations of Hell. Merely trimming off the outgrowths would not be enough; one had to dig deep and hoe into the soil to eradicate the roots and prevent their reestablishment. Malbonte had barely begun to scratch the surface. Hell was truly the realm of chaos and despair.

Malbonte wasn't naïve—he had never expected this task to be easy or speedily accomplished. Without an official Satan, it was much harder to push forward reforms. Things might have been a little smoother if that impetuous fool Lucifer hadn't antagonized him in the last war. There had been a few whispers here and there wondering if Malbonte would step into the role of Satan, but he had no intentions of doing so. Demons had their own rigid class system, and the majority of them wouldn't be happy for a half-breed to take the throne, despite Malbonte's work empowering demons and making them equal to the angels in the highest echelons of power. Malbonte also did not want to confine his authority and oversight to one realm. Though he more or less trusted the current composition of the Citadel Council to work effectively, and had Vicky to keep an eye on things, part of the reason for the Council's smooth operation was out of fear of him. If Malbonte took over as Satan, he would have to relinquish his role as ruler of the Council and any control he had would be lost. Besides, he would have to move to Hell, separating him from Vicky. He wasn't going to martyr himself for the sake of saving Hell.

Malbonte had not expected to stay in Hell for these many weeks. He'd dashed off a short message to Vicky that morning about having to extend his stay once again, and that was half the reason behind his bad mood. He missed Vicky. He missed their morning routine as they ate breakfast and got ready for work. He missed the glimpses he caught of her at the Citadel and their occasional trysts in his office. Most of all, he missed reaching for her at night and pulling her into his arms, and peppering her body with kisses…

He still felt their bond, separated though they were by distance, and this kept Malbonte from fully giving into his frustrations. The longer he stayed in Hell, the harder it became to shut his mind to Shephamalum's insidious whispers and taunts. My boy… Do you think you can play house and avoid me forever? You spared my brother when you had the chance to kill him. You reneged on your promises to me… His tormentor whispered to him whenever he let his guard down. There will be a day of reckoning for Shepha, you, and for your…companion… Relent now and I may forgive you…

The truth was, Malbonte had defied Shephamalum in numerous ways since his escape. Not only had he changed his mind about killing Shepha, but thanks to Vicky, he now held Shephamalum's Amulet of Darkness—something the imprisoned god badly needed in order to replenish his fading powers. The thought of how Vicky had snatched the amulet from right under Shephamalum's nose still tickled Malbonte. That was a heavy blow to Shephamalum's pride and very likely further fueled his rage.

It had taken Vicky a long time to speak of everything that happened in Shephamalum's dungeon. Having glimpsed the horrors of the prison firsthand, Vicky had naturally wanted to learn more about his own time there. But Malbonte could not bring himself to be more open about it. While he had shared many things about his past with Vicky—his life with his parents, the immortal society of the past as he remembered it, occasionally even his experiences living in the tower as Bont—he simply could not bring himself to talk about his time with Shephamalum.

Malbonte would rather not dwell on those memories. They always made the whispers stronger afterwards. He was concerned too about the effect such a narration might have on Vicky. Malbonte knew that nothing could prepare her for the enormity of the dungeon's tortures. Though she didn't often talk about it, he knew that Vicky was still struggling to come to terms with her own grief. She sometimes still tossed and turned in bed and woke up screaming from nightmares, though less than in the immediate aftermath of the war. If she heard about his experiences with Shephamalum, Vicky's nightmares would come back with a vengeance.

Malbonte sighed. His concentration was completely shot. He might as well pack it in for the night and try to get some rest; he'd tackle the problems with a fresh mind in the morning—provided he was able to get some sleep. Malbonte stood up and fluffed his wings to relieve the stiffness. He reached the door that connected his office to his bedroom, then hesitated. A slow smile bloomed across his face as he stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

***—***

Austie wandered along the corridors looking for Malbonte's chambers. She had avoided being alone in his presence ever since the war had ended, partly afraid that he might kill her. She did steal the Stumbling Stone from right under his nose when she tried to destroy Shepha's keys. But then again, Malbonte himself had made peace with Shepha instead of killing him like he had intended.

She had also been conflicted over Lucifer's death. Yes, she herself had abandoned Lucifer to join Malbonte, but she had not expected Lucifer to die at Malbonte's hands. Austie vividly remembered the moment Malbonte had appeared hovering over the battlefield radiating unprecedented power and strength. The sight of him had filled Austie with a mad rush of excitement and hope she hadn't experienced in years. It was her chance to avenge her father's debasement and reestablish her family's rightful place among Hell's elite. Lucifer couldn't have given her that, even if he had cared about more than bedding her. His hot and cold treatment of her had been maddening. Besides, they had already been quarreling because of his mooning over the Unclaimed. Like the hotheaded fool he was, Lucifer had gone against Malbonte in the final war and gotten himself killed.

But who was Austie to throw stones when she had forfeited her one chance at gaining power solely because of her jealousy! She and Malbonte had never been exclusive, but she had been confident it was only a matter of time. Austie burned with resentment recalling when she had gone to his chambers to announce the arrival of the Citadel army. A half-clad Malbonte had opened the door slightly to her knock and Austie caught a glimpse of Vicky sprawled on the bed, her naked shoulders, messy hair, and the pile of clothes on the floor telling their own story. Austie had turned to Malbonte to demand explanations, but one look at his stony facade had silenced her. She had walked away furious, determined to take revenge on Malbonte for treating her like yesterday's trash. He had never even taken her into his chambers in all the time she had stayed in that filthy camp with his troops and allies; their trysts had all taken place in his office or rarely, in her cramped room.

Why had the Unclaimed merited such special treatment over Austie? Was it because Vicky now held some of Malbonte's dark energy? Austie liked powerful men, but those powerful men seemed to prefer weaklings. Stripped of Malbonte's darkness, Vicky Walker was nothing.

But Austie's attempt at revenge had failed. The Stumbling Stone had ended up right back in Malbonte's hands, and her own family situation remained unchanged. Her father continued to take in raggedy half-breeds and stash them in the catacombs like gutter rats just to make enough money to keep their family in semi-decent society. Austie didn't know who was financing her father; she only knew that their patron was someone who had been invested in saving the half-breeds long before Malbonte had escaped his dungeon. Austie despised those mongrels with a passion because they represented everything that had gone wrong with her family. She had half-expected them to crawl out of hiding with all the reforms that had been put through recently, but she had never seen any of them above ground yet.

After the truce was declared, Austie had heard that Malbonte and Vicky lived together at the Citadel. She could understand Malbonte having a fling with the Unclaimed, but it puzzled her why the most powerful immortal in all the realms was in a relationship with a former Unclaimed-turned-angel—and a poor excuse for an angel at that. Austie almost laughed at the irony of Vicky, an angel filled with darkness, ruling at the heart of the Citadel Council. Maybe that was it. Maybe it was all due to their energy-bond.

Well…what did all that matter? Shrugging off the pointless speculations cluttering her brain, Austie tried to focus on her current mission. Malbonte had been in Hell for several weeks now, and there was no sign of Vicky. Was the honeymoon period over? This was the perfect opportunity to get back on Malbonte's good graces.

Austie reached Malbonte's office and knocked on the door. There was no response. She knocked again and even tried the handle, but there was still no response and the door was locked. After a momentary hesitation, she walked to the door to the left of Malbonte's office, which led to his private quarters. Just as Austie was about to knock, there was a loud thud from inside the room, as if something heavy had fallen, followed by a woman's high-pitched squeal and the sound of masculine laughter. Austie rolled her eyes and withdrew her hand. So, Malbonte had found some floozy to bed with while his pet angel was at the Citadel. So much for their energy-bond! As Austie walked away, she started thinking of how she could use this information to her benefit.

***—***

Malbonte's smile lingered as he stepped into his bedchamber. He had felt her energy, of course. Vicky was laid out on his bed like a delectable morsel, wearing some wispy concoction that left little to the imagination. She gave him a come-hither look, and thither Malbonte went. "You know how to surprise me," he said, giving her a sultry smile as he climbed on the bed. His day had brightened up considerably. Vicky grinned as she pulled him close and kissed him eagerly, her enthusiasm reflecting her desire to make up for lost time. Malbonte matched her energy, and their breaths mingled and hands caressed each other's bodies. Growing impatient, Vicky gently pushed at Malbonte's chest to get him to lie on his back. Her fingers fumbled to untie the girdle keeping his tunic closed. Smirking, Malbonte leaned forward to help her. Having finally untied it, Vicky pulled it off the tunic and traced a backward arc with her arm to toss the offending accessory out of the way. Unfortunately for her, the girdle hadn't fully detached from the outfit and snapped back, hitting Malbonte on the chest and causing Vicky to lose her balance and topple over to the floor.

"Ow!" Vicky squealed as she met the hard floor. Malbonte laughed and rolled over to peer at her from above. Vicky gave him an outraged look, then started laughing too. Malbonte helped her off the floor and settled her atop him.

Blushing with embarrassment, Vicky groaned and twisted her arm to rub the small of her back.

"Does it hurt?" Malbonte asked, sliding a hand around her waist and rubbing at the same spot.

"It's fading already," she reassured him. She placed a hand over his chest where the girdle must have hit him. "What about you?"

"I'm fine," said Malbonte, his lips still creased with mirth.

"There go my plans for seduction." Vicky rolled her eyes up comically.

Malbonte smiled lazily. "I don't know… I think it's working."

"Is it now?" Vicky drawled, bringing her face closer to his.

"Yes," Malbonte responded in a husky whisper, and slid his hands down her waist, to her hips, to her bottom, and squeezed. He grinned as Vicky involuntarily jerked her hips forward. She braced her arms on either side of his head and bent down and kissed him.

The instant their lips touched, it was like a tinderbox had ignited, setting off an explosion in their souls. They plundered each other's lips, barely separating to tear off their clothes in a frenzy, feathers rustled against the sheets as they rolled around in bed with Malbonte on top first, then Vicky—not as two combatants trying to subjugate the other, but rather vying to get closer than close and erase the weeks spent apart in sleepless nights tossing and turning in bed and hugging cold pillows to the chest.

When it was over, they lay panting side by side. Malbonte was the first to recover his breath. He turned on his side and ran his hand down Vicky's arm. "I'm glad you came."

Vicky rolled to face him. She placed a hand over his chest. "I missed you," she said simply.

"As did I," Malbonte replied, then pulled up the blanket to cover them.

Vicky smiled contentedly and snuggled up to him, falling asleep at once. Malbonte laid awake a little longer, unconsciously playing with Vicky's hair and wondering how it was that just having her in his arms made every problem seem trivial in comparison. Soon he drifted off to sleep as well.

***—***

The next morning, Austie walked up to Malbonte's door once again. She knocked, though she opened it without waiting for a reply. She stepped inside. Malbonte was seated in his chair, looking as handsome as ever. The candlelight illuminating his profile made his chiseled features stand out. He said nothing upon seeing her, but he frowned, his brows contracting dangerously. The powerful aura radiating from him was almost palpable. Austie sucked in a sharp breath—she had forgotten how intimidating he could be.

Though suddenly feeling less confident, Austie greeted Malbonte in a silky voice and kicked the door close behind her. She slunk right up to his desk and bent low, presenting her ample bosom for his perusal. "I thought you'd appreciate some company," she said as she peered at him from half-lidded eyes.

"No," Malbonte replied curtly, his irritation obvious. "And learn to wait for an answer after knocking on someone's door."

Austie's face reddened with anger. She was about to make a stinging retort, forgetting whom she was addressing in her anger, when the door connecting to Malbonte's private quarters swung open. Vicky walked in, coffee mug in hand, saying, "Coffee is the one thing I'm glad…" she trailed off as she took in the tableau in front of her.

Austie abruptly straightened up. "What's she doing here?" she exclaimed. She felt as though she had been punched in the face. She grasped the edge of the desk to steady herself.

"Visiting Malbonte. And what are you doing?" Vicky retorted, walking up to stand next to Malbonte.

Austie was seething. She wanted to say something nasty in reply, but was too afraid of provoking Malbonte, having finally come to her senses. Realizing that she had lost all the initiative, she fumed in silence and left the room, banging the door close behind her. But Austie wasn't going to give up that easily. She would find another way to get ahead.

***—***

An awkward silence followed Austie's dramatic exit.

"So…does she visit you often when I'm not around?" Vicky asked casually.

"This is the first time."

Vicky looked skeptical. Malbonte silently acknowledged that it sounded like the typical excuse used by cheating partners across the ages.

"You know I wouldn't lie to you," he tried again, the statement ending with an upward inflection like a question.

"I know," she muttered, but she set her mug down on his desk and walked to the window.

Sighing, Malbonte got up from his desk to stand behind her. He didn't touch her, though he felt her energy reacting to his proximity. The reddish light filtering through the window panes glinted off her dark hair, making it shine like burnished copper. He longed to run his fingers through the silky smoothness, but restrained himself.

"I am with you, Vicky. I'm not interested in anyone else," he said softly. Vicky didn't reply, but she leaned back against his chest. Malbonte put his arms around her. "You don't have to be jealous."

Vicky immediately tried to pull away, and Malbonte released her. "I'm not jealous!" she exclaimed, turning to face him. But the red flush painted on her skin told a different story.

Malbonte almost laughed aloud in surprise at her reaction, but restrained himself because he could see that Vicky was both angry and embarrassed. Where was this coming from? He had never seen her show a mite of jealousy before, even on occasions where some intoxicated or foolhardy demon had attempted to flirt with him. But then, he didn't have a history with those random flirts. After a moment's hesitation, he lightly placed his hands on her waist. He counted it as a good sign when she didn't pull away.

"Whatever happened with Austie, it's in the past. I'm not going to cheat on you," he said.

"I know! I just…" She stopped and bit her lip.

Malbonte was silent, letting her continue in her own time. Vicky seemed to gather herself and continued. "The last time I saw Bont, you know—we kissed and…stuff." A faint blush tinged her face, and Malbonte's hand twitched with the urge to caress her warm cheeks. But once again, he refrained. She went on. "When I saw you next in your underground camp, Austie was acting all possessive over you and you talked as if my "kindness" to Bont was the only significant thing about our prior connection. I was angry that all my history with Bont meant nothing anymore. I know you hadn't cheated on me or anything, because of course you weren't just Bont now, but I did feel robbed of something special."

Malbonte felt a little pang as he acknowledged Vicky's assertion. Back then, he had wanted to impress upon her that he was no longer the innocent angel she'd known, but someone capable of being cruel and ruthless to his enemies. He had never intended to diminish the value of their prior connection or reduce it to mere kindness on her part. He still struggled with accepting aspects of Bont's personality and experiences. Knowing that, Vicky seldom broached the topic of Bont, always leaving it up to him. On impulse, he pulled Vicky along with him as he moved back to his chair and sat down, drawing her onto his lap.

She placed a hand over his arm, "When I walked in just now and saw her bent over your desk like that…" she gestured, "I just lost my head a little."

Malbonte softly squeezed her waist. "I promise you Vicky, I'll never betray you."

"I know," Vicky nodded.

"And if it makes you feel better, I never touched another woman after the day you were brought to my camp as a prisoner and you looked up at me with such fire and defiance."

"Really?" Vicky stared wide-eyed.

"Really," he assured her and brushed her cheek. "I've told you before, Vicky—I remember all our meetings from when I was Bont, and all that I felt as well. You're as special to me as you were to Bont."

Vicky flung her arms around him and placed a resounding kiss on his lips. Her wings fluttered, echoing her excitement. They smiled at each other.

"I have a thought," said Malbonte. "Once I'm finished with this current crisis, why don't we visit one of those art museums on earth?"

Vicky's eyes brightened. "That would be wonderful!" she exclaimed, and placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

Tenderness washed over Malbonte at the affectionate gesture. He abruptly stood and carried a surprised Vicky back into his bedroom. Hell's problems could marinate for another hour.

***—***