The next day passed as Blitzo sat in his chair beside his company's patron at the hospital. It was a calm atmosphere despite the noise of a computer monitor casually beeping throughout the day. As he read the latest newspaper, his mind dithered elsewhere by stealing a glance to the right and found the Goetia resting soundly in his cot. The imp contemplated the idea of finally accepting the bird demon as his boyfriend; yet, his heart remained unsure.
Was there truly genuine reciprocation of his feelings or merely a game to him? That tiresome thought always echoed from the back of his mind to break up and walk away. Though, he couldn't due to his business relationship. Then he reflected on his past relations with others and how his attitude drove others away, leaving him to wallow amid his suffering. His mind remembered the love that was shared between himself and Verosika before proverbially stabbing her in the back. He wasn't sure if they were on better terms but it seemed that she was happy with Railtracer.
What was certain in his mind was that the failed assassination of his boyfriend changed everything. Holding him in his arms while the paramedics arrived affected him dearly. He would be sure that his love for Stolas wouldn't die. At the same time, an insidious thought seeped in about hunting down Striker for his attempt. Sooner or later, he would pay.
Footsteps approached the patient's room in rapid succession as the head of the company reached for the holstered flintlock pistol strapped to his waist. If it was another would-be imp assassin, Blitzo would be ready. Then the pace began to slow down as the door handle turned and someone entered the room. Yet, he stayed his hand once he recognized the familiar fur and the color of his adoptive daughter's clothes. She looked around for a brief moment until her gaze fell upon her. "Dad-"
"Quiet," He whispered to her while pointing towards the sleeping Ars Goetia in the bed, "Not too loud."
She crept forward and stood by his left side, leaning close to his ear. "Moxxie and Millie didn't show up to work today. The last time I saw them was when you three went with Stolas to the club."
"I can explain that one. They're both hunting down Stolas's assassin as we speak." The father answered with sure conviction.
"Well, I just got this bad feeling that they're in a tight spot and that we should help them. Either one of them would have got back for some rest."
It was a good point. For all of Millie's enthusiasm and Moxxie's professional compliance to the letter, they would have at least reported in or told Loona that they were going on his errand and couldn't come to the building. If things were dire enough, they would have made a pass for the armory and gotten Striker with some hefty power. Part of him wanted to think they were fine but Loona's concerns may raise another possibility that those two couldn't get a message out if they were in trouble. Even if they were, the imp couldn't risk leaving his wounded beloved behind. "If you think they're in trouble you can pay them a visit, I have to stay here and watch over Stolas."
"It's fine dad, I can probably bring Railtracer along to help me out." She said before standing upright and making her way to the door, "I'll send you a text once I pick up the sinner at the Hazbin Hotel."
"Good luck and stay safe."
Two days passed since the concert and what passed for normalcy at the Hazbin Hotel had returned with the surrounding streets cleared up. Yet, despite all of the efforts of Princess Charlie to draw sinners in, no one truly came. It must have been disheartening for her to simply feel like a waste but Artyom couldn't do anything about it. His goal had been to protect her as requested by her father, not something he was expecting to do in his hunt to avenge his father-in-law. Nonetheless, he felt sorry for her while sitting inside a limousine with Helen at his side and Alastor sitting across from him.
There was some measure of hope for the royal heir as Verosika seemed to sympathize with her enough to conceive a plan to meet with the news network to encourage visitation. For a Hellborn, she was awfully nice about it while the two goats in the front brought them to their destination.
The Radio Demon had a schedule of his own to keep and wanted someone to accompany him. At first, the disguised saved rejected the offer for the sake of his mission but Mrs. Mayberry was insistent on finding time to spend with her while his other girlfriend was away. It was weird to be in such a relationship as he had no prior experience save for the occasional lustful fantasies of men. If coming along made her happy, he was happy. Surely the critical mission he was tasked with wouldn't be jeopardized by his departure from his lodgings in Hell.
Alastor's fingers moved around like the legs of a spider trying to form a web. Despite his hand's innocuous performance, the Russian felt danger just stealing glances at the overlord's fingertips. There was a power in his palm and the Purgatory investigator knew better than to invite its owner's wrath. His face lit up like a Christmas tree when the vehicle slowed and his gaze focused outside the windows. "Ah, we're here."
"Where exactly have you brought us?" The Russian wondered. Neither he nor the teacher at his side had been notified of the destination, only that they would be visiting a meeting spot for a friend of his.
"You are indeed owed an explanation. There is this deli shop I like to go to. It's no cannibal's paradise but their non-human meat is delicious to enjoy. My associate and I have a routine of meeting once every few months. She quite the charm but I'm quite worried my attention would fail to keep an eye on unsavory folk."
Mrs. Mayberry spoke out her own thoughts as the limousine finally halted. "You expect someone to backstab you?"
"You can't really be an overlord without some rivals to your name." He ecstatically replied while slipping out of his seat and leaving the car for the outside world.
Artyom and Helen were quick to join him while Charlie's two goat chauffeurs reminded them that they would wait until they were finished. The deli was surprisingly humble in comparison to the appearance of the Radio Demon's taste in fashion and oddly a fitting reflection. For someone who presented himself as refined, his preference for a meal was a stark contrast to the sinner's twisted soul as the trio followed him inside. They were flanked by sets of tables before a large pig in a butcher's apron stepped out from the kitchen and took her spot behind the counter across from them.
Alastor waved his hand towards her. "Salutations, Helga! I've got another meeting and even brought company."
"I know the usual you two have," The German's gaze fell upon the other two, "Are they also regulars or specials."
"Specials. Unfortunately, they do not appreciate the same appetite that I have."
Her nose let out a loud snort before breaking eye contact and slipping back into the doorway from where she came. "Give me ten minutes."
The party immediately settled down on the nearest table to their right as the couple sat together with the Russian's arm finding space above the teacher's shoulders. She reciprocated his act by huddling closer to him in the booth before her lips reached for his head and laid a kiss upon Artyom's gasmask, where the cheek would be had he been in his normal form.
"One could wonder if you two were already married," The overlord remarked as his fingers tapped against the polished table, "Though, it's quite jarring to see two hearts flourishing like a young couple when the last time you two shared your love, it was enough to make me question whether you'll break the bed or not thanks to that night of degeneracy."
"My apologies. To find love is a… rather passionate subject for me." He replied with enough foresight to carefully exchange words with an evil dealer.
"Indeed. But enough about that. Since we're at a butcher's shop, let's talk about times we've painted the walls with another's entrails!"
Helen Mayberry chuckled before seeing through his message. "So you want small talk to pass the time? Well, I killed my cheating husband and the bitch he was fucking. It's the whole reason I'm down here."
"Ah, the price of failure for a husband's loyalty to his wife. Must have been satisfying to punish him right then and there." Commented the Radio Demon.
"Yeah, it was," She said approvingly and it was in its own right disturbing to see a loved one showcase that level of sadistic pleasure. "Very cathartic, shame that we'd both end up down here."
The beady eyes of Alastor shifted towards him now that her story had concluded. "Do you have any bodies you've collected in your closet? By the look of your wear, a soldier should at least have his fair share of killings."
"Does killing two outposts full of soldiers from opposite sides count?" He remembered the horrors of traveling across the Bridge at the Moscow Metro. The sounds of Dushka bursts lighting up the darkness every few seconds, the sight of hundreds of fallen littered through that small stretch of concrete, and the smell of rotting flesh at the mercy of flies and rodents. His experience flashed before him in a brief moment when the Reds and Nazis spotted him and forced him to kill every soldier that stood in his way. Yet, he recalled the specific acts of ignorance that allowed him to stomp out the life of the wounded or his inaction to save the helpless prisoners from casual execution. It was tempting to share his thoughts or excuses in those moments; however, Artyom quickly remembered his current mission and the Department's policy on maintaining his disguise.
"How many did you think you've killed? I'm certain that my score is perhaps higher overall but not to the extent of your casualties."
It was easy for the sinner to make that statement. He wanted to retort and speak of his killings of the Dark Ones but that subject was an old wound he didn't want to touch upon for the sake of his soul and the innocent that died at his hands. Then Artyom's mind returned to count the bodies he shot and slew from the shadows, hoping it would be enough to sate the man's question and cease further discussions. "At least over a hundred. It was a small place but quite the frontline."
"Impressive!" His heart gave an uneasy feeling the more he stared at the crimson pupils. Was Alastor making his own assessments of him?
A bell rang as the deli's front door swung open and the Russian's attention was taken elsewhere by a new arrival. A pale-skin sinner stepped inside in a beautiful red dress while a red hat decorated with skulls and red flowers rested atop her white hair. So this was the person that the Radio Demon was waiting for? For a meeting between these two, there seemed to be more involved in this affair than he expected. The void that was her eyes turned towards their table as a great smile revealed great white teeth, so sharp she would make a shark jealous. To his surprise, the woman revealed a French accent upon speaking. "Mon cher ami, you should have told me you've brought friends this time."
"I hope this doesn't affect our relations but I was in the mood for our delicacies and then I remembered what my schedule entailed," He answered as she approached their booth and sat in the empty spot beside the awaiting gentlemen, "I've already ordered for you so don't have to."
"Aw, you shouldn't have done that."
"I can't tell if this is a meeting or a double date. Mind introducing us to your lady friend." Mayberry remarked as Artyom noticed the stranger steal a glance at him, cheeks reddened with slight embarrassment.
"My name is Rosie," She answered before stealing a glance at her fellow sinner, "Alastor and I are what you would call close cannibal friends."
The mere mention of such a despicable description reminded the soldier of his former days as a Polis Ranger. It was where blindness loyalty and naivety led him to believe that the now deceased Colonel Mel'nikov would find the last remnants of the Russian government, only to encounter an entire facility littered and filled with man-eaters - some who pretended to have some sense of civility while others engaged in absolute barbarism. In the few moments where he traveled through their lair, the imagery of their barbarism towards each other was etched into his mind. "Is that even possible? I would imagine either of you would go down on each other if one of you croaked and died."
Alastor's and Rosie's eyes blinked and widened large enough to be like plates, flustered by the expression he gave to everyone at the table. The sinner holding a microphone made his reply. "How could be so damn lewd?"
"What are you talking about?" He was perplexed by their reaction, "I was saying had one of you died, the other would have started carving the dead one for a meal."
"Oh, I thought you meant something different."
It was here that Helen burst out laughing as the confused post-apocalypse survivor turned to her. Was it something he said? "They thought you were telling them a sex joke!"
"What does that have to do with anything." He took a moment to think about what he said and reflected on how that could be misconstrued by the others. Then it suddenly hit him as his hand reached for his forehead and facepalmed.
"So there isn't harm done, is there?"
"No, not really," Rosie acknowledged as she tucked her hands atop her lap, "This is quite a humorous conversation, to be honest. It changes things up compared to the usual talking I have with Alastor."
The deli owner stepped out from the kitchen and made her way over to their table. In her hands was a tray containing four sandwiches while supporting four additional jugs of cold beer.
"Ah, it's time to eat! Can't wait to dig in."
The preparations to bring down Lucifer had been ongoing as Adam oversaw every little detail from his command center. It was a matter of when they would act that would indicate their commencement and that time was approaching based on the frequency of situation reports that the Archangel of Judgement would ask. His superior's insistence was becoming a hindrance to deciding his next decision to advance this great plan. He stood behind Lute sitting in a chair as the female exterminator busied herself tapping at the keyboard and concentrating on the daily intranet messages being updated from one safehouse to the next.
It was here that the first man of humanity took a sip from his coffee mug as the daily workload seemed to increase with the number of requisitions to fully equip the standing forces to perform at their theoretical limit. Part of him wished that this matter was tasked to someone well-suited to this problem; however, the responsibility rested upon his shoulder after the previous supply officer attempted to leak information out to the Department of Purgatory - and by extension - to the rest of the unaware departments beyond Gabriel's command. Fortunately, he was able to terminate the saved's existence in one fell swoop lest this whole masquerade fell apart.
Adam wondered if their situation would have been better had his superior not personally attacked the weapons shipment. The Archangel of Death wouldn't be this invested into seeking them out but what was done was done. As some of the older humans would put it, the Rubicon had been crossed and there could only be one way forward - do or die. Shame that the true followers of the Holy Father had to act in the shadows since the Council of Archangels seemed so interested in maintaining the status quo. After all, what reason did they have to hold back from killing their fallen brother once and for all? That hesitation had instilled distrust in the ranks since Michael encouraged the signing of that damned treaty. Heaven was a hair's breadth away from finishing off the traitorous 'king' of Hell and his charming beloved.
A loud slam echoed from behind his back as the first man turned around to find the newly redeemed sinner arriving at his headquarters. Hunter better return with good news as he watched him stride across the room and approach him. "So, are you here to tell me that you killed another one?"
"No," The Russian answered, shaking his head. How disappointing? There was potential with this man's loyalty and he seemed to be squandering it at this moment, "I'm here to talk about the target."
"What of it? May I remind you that you made an obligation to serve Heaven's best interests? Remember what you are sacrificing on the line for your girlfriend." He said before approaching the railing towering and gripping the metal bars.
"This target… I personally know him."
"Well then, it should be simple," Adam bluntly put as he continued to encourage his newly-acquired follower into completing his objective, "Take advantage of his trust and kill him. How is this hard?"
Hunter's head lowered as his gaze fell to the floor. The blessed human could see sadness in that look and perhaps an explanation was needed lest he concluded the matter. "He was a close friend of mine when we once lived. Artyom is to me what a son is to a father, a bond forged by friendship instead of blood."
"I see. It's more than I anticipated. Lute, what information do we have on the target?" He had seen this man's zeal to serve Heaven at any cost and to see him slow down and confront him with this reality made him think. Ordering him to kill someone whom he had a fatherly bond with would leave a bad impression. Especially, if he was recently recruited into the ranks. He'll have to see what he can do to mend this problem once and for all.
"Got it," The exterminator angel acknowledged as her fingers continued to tap away. Adam turned halfway to see the computer screen in front of him shift from shifting messages into profile dossiers about the targets being hunted in the depths of Hell. A profile came up from the archives of the Department of Purgatory and it explained all the details he needed if he wondered why he was the target, "The soul in question is a redeemed saved disguised as a sinner. He's been seen at the Hazbin Hotel accompanying major figures such as Princess Charlie and a succubus pop star by the name of Verosika Mayday."
"Ah, explains everything."
"Wait a minute, he's not a sinner?" The redeemed sinner expressed his full surprise as confusion struck him. His mind seemed perplexed while his eyes glazed over the information being presented to him.
"Now you see why you are given the message to kill him. He never was one of the sinners," The first human quickly looked at the screen to see the stranger's name, "Artyom is a traitor to the cause and we can't let him know about us."
"Is there another way? I know my orders but…"
He could see the lack of conviction and Hunter's willingness to seek out another way. Humans are complicated creatures and would try to find an excuse to resolve an issue so long as it didn't lead to a negative outcome. It was a matter he personally understood while pondering about the alternatives rather than giving him an excuse to break those former bonds. What if he could develop a way to reinforce them - one that could benefit Gabriel's cause even further? "How about this? This man remains to be your target but instead of killing him, why don't you attempt to convince him."
"Sir?" Hunter looked up at him unsure of this transition in objectives, "You said you wanted me to kill him?"
"Indeed but I think it would be more detrimental than letting you suffer with the stain of your pseudo-son on your hands. You've killed people on our behalf and surely, you'll do it again but I'll give you another chance as that has always been part of the Holy Father's plans. Convince this Artyom to join us and assist my superior in tearing Hell's existence apart, brick-by-brick and he will live on the winning side." Adam approached him and left a reassuring gesture by placing a hand on his shoulder.
The old soldier nodded his head with gratitude. "T-Thank you. I appreciate what you have done for me. I will do everything in my power to get him to come along."
"I know you will," Despite this generous gift, it also came with a few strings attached. If it did not go well as planned, the outcome would be the same, "Graves will be ordered to accompany you to see this done. Should this succeed, Heaven will have two more reliable souls when the time comes. If your friend refuses to accept this act of mercy, my lieutenant and you will eliminate this witness once and for all. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes sir!" His boots snapped together as he saluted him.
He had to admit, it was nice to receive such a dutiful soul like him. "Very good. You may go and do not return until this target is no longer a concern of mine."
Archangel Michael, the High Marshal of the Holy Army, had very few moments to spend to himself. In between the matters that would affect the military's capabilities of winning battles and waging war upon the grand hosts of Hell, the commander of the Holy Father's soldiers sat on his couch and looked across a coffee table to see his fireplace. Orange-red flames danced around the logs, peeling away the outer layer of bark, and leaving behind burnt crisps below. The more he stared, memories of past battles and clashes against Lucifer simmered forth like a dam broken by a flood. Old scars could still be felt despite the eons of living past those days, such was the damage of blessed and damned weaponry.
A pair of hands wrapped around his shoulders as someone's head shifted beside his. It only made him smile, knowing the first woman of humanity was with him. "Hello Eve, I hope you've had a pleasant day."
"Aye. Just finished directing the arriving saved with Peter after the Department of Purgatory sent another wave of newcomers. No surprise sinners this time. I've done this countless times but it feels great to still meet with them." She admitted in a soft-spoken tone, filled with confidence and excitement.
"Definitely more interesting than rummaging through lists."
"Aw, I can fix that for you," The High Marshal felt a peck on his cheeks as she clambered over the couch and leaned against him. Disheveled dark hair embraced his tailor-made white suit, wrinkling it's sharp appearance. Nonetheless, Michael reached for her hand and held hers while they rested on the couch together, "It's rather worrying that our son hasn't managed to contact us."
The mere mention of their offspring darkened his mood. Now that his soul had met Death's embrace, he didn't know how to make his reply. Their child had endured twenty years of suffering, unaware that his mother faked her own death at a young age and traumatized him as Eve went through the effort to reconnect his specific reality to Heaven. She wouldn't have done that if humanity didn't engage in a nuclear apocalypse that accidentally severed the saved and the damned from the afterlife. "I'm not sure whether it's a good idea to meet with him."
"Of course, it's a good idea. What parent doesn't want to meet with their child after being separated for so long?" Eve rebuked but he had thought about the well-being of their son's own feelings on the matter.
"What if he doesn't approve of this deception of ours? Two decades of guilt, dear. How do we explain to him that he didn't suffer the trauma of witnessing his own mother but rather you left him at the mercy of a cruel world?"
"That's up for him to decide, Michael," The first woman of humanity lifted her legs onto the couch and cuddled against his chest as his arm interlocked with hers, "He's been alone all of his life. Even in the company of others, we are the only ones who can truly see the scared boy behind the facade of a brave warrior. The least we could do is be for him instead of holding it off."
Being a father seemed more troublesome than he imagined. The archangel pondered his situation and considered his fallen brother's place when his niece was brought into existence. What went through the minds of Lucifer and Lilith when they raised their daughter into the person she is today? "It makes me wonder about him."
"The ruler of the Dark Realm?"
"How did you know?" She seemed so sure about his inner thoughts.
Eve giggled as pure comfort brought them closer. "I've spent one night with him, I should know. Besides, you and Azrael were close to him once before his descent. One doesn't need to be a mathematician to figure this one out. You're probably wondering how he handled Charlotte."
"It is a puzzle that continues to baffle me and it gives me no insight into how we'll handle Artyom when we meet in person. Though, I wonder if he'll ever get that chance given his situation."
"Do you care to explain?" His beloved questioned with a sate of closure, "What's keeping him back from meeting us?"
He remembered his conversation with the Archangel of Death and the conversation they had with him. Yet, the sensitive information meant that he could not disclose any detail lest it compromise the issues that Death was responsible for. "I'm afraid to say it is classified. This is a matter that has to be kept close to the chest. Please understand."
"Then do what you can to make sure he comes back. There is much we have to talk about. Our son deserves to know the truth at the very least."
The return from the deli had revealed much about the man that was Alastor the Radio Demon. For the bluster of this sinner who had slain scores of lives for his sadistic pleasure, it was comical to see him socially inept at handling his relationship with the fairer sex. He seemed so keen on reaching out for Rosie's affections; yet, the opportunity to express that was not realized despite not being so upfront. What Artyom hadn't anticipated was this well-behaved overlord being such a lightweight that drinking a fraction of his pint made him drunk.
When the limo arrived at the front of the hotel, everyone immediately exited the vehicle. The disguised redeemed and Rosie found themselves having his arms around their shoulders while Helen marched over to the front and opened the door for everyone. Razzle and Dazzle immediately went inside for a brief moment before returning with cleaning supplies. They had their work cut out for them since the sinner accidentally puked his guts out inside the limousine.
After Charlie's servants rushed past them, they entered the building Vaggie and Angel Dust came into the lobby to find them in their situation. Soon the pink homosexual spider paused and studied the situation. "Huh? The strawberry pimp can't hold his drink. I'd think he would be made of stronger shit."
"You're not the only one who thought the same. Here I thought I couldn't handle my alcohol." Artyom replied as the man he carried tried to muster a sentence. Unfortunately, he couldn't distinguish a single word.
"That's because you're a Russian," Helen remarked as she closed the door after everyone was inside, "You're built differently."
Vaggie laughed at the expense of the two trying to drag him to the couch. "So falls the mighty Alastor. If Husk was here, he would have the time of his life."
Once Artyom and Rosie placed him down on the couch, he reached out for her hand as she was taken aback by his sudden act. "I-I… l-love you."
"Oh! Why don't you get some sleep? We'll talk next time." The cannibal woman's cheeks reddened with embarrassment as she leaned forward and kissed the drunk Radio Demon on the forehead. Then she gently laid him onto a pillow before stealing a glance at the former Polis Ranger, "Never thought he would say that but I thank you and your friend for helping him back. Don't know what would happen to him if he came alone."
"Bye-bye, Rosie!" Alastor exclaimed until he fell asleep and snored the rest of his drunken state away. Not a word was spoken when the pale-skinned woman walked away and strode to the Hotel's front.
Angel walked over to Artyom's side and looked down at the man sleeping before them. Then his head turned to Rosie leaving out the front door. "So, who's the daisy?"
"His girlfriend," Answered the disguised investigator as his hands slipped into his pockets. His musings revealed themselves as the drunken overlord succumbed to sleep, " He never really explained that meeting but something tells me that Helen and I were there to give him confidence."
"Confidence? Shit, I'm shocked that there isn't anyone here who doesn't have confidence issues when it comes to talking to someone they like."
"So, while Helen and I were away, anything interesting happening?" It was small talk but it also served the purpose of gathering information in an organic appearance.
"Charlie's talking to your other girlfriend," The gangster answered while placing all four of his hands on his waist, "Turns out she's striking another deal with the hotel and going to talk about the hotel to Katie Killjoy. Look, as much as I enjoy a good laugh, I don't think the princess can handle another beating to her pride."
Artyom grew sympathetic since he knew what Angel Dust was referencing. He remembered that time when looked on the television and saw the absolute disaster her highness had to endure. It was a shame that he truly couldn't express his honest wishes for her despite serving the Department of Purgatory. Then he heard Vaggie speak, his head turned to see the moth girl cross her arms and a face of skepticism directed at the spider. "Who would have thought you'd be sorry for her? Maybe there is something under that fluff."
"Hey now. Let's not get mushy all of a sudden. I have a reputation to keep." He warned her.
A loud force burst through the front door as four sinners made their way to the noise. Its suddenness made the disguised redeemed reach for a holstered pistol at his side as a shadow loomed from the entrance thanks to the sun's placement. His eyes hardened at the sight of a wolf-like creature huffing hard before entering the Hazbin Hotel, revealing to be none other than Loona, Blitz's adoptive daughter. "Railtracer, I need your help!"
"Uh, who are you?" Vaggie questioned while the investigator pulled his hand away from his weapon, "You should know it's not a good idea to break down someone's door."
"No offense but I'm in a hurry."
"Everyone, I like for you to meet with Loona. She's the daughter of my boss back at I.M.P. Is that good enough of an introduction?" He began while walking forward to the worried Hellborn who had certainly seen better days, "What's wrong?"
"Moxie and Millie haven't shown up. I'm worried they got captured like last time and need help." How could he forget the last time the company got into trouble? It's the reason why he was assigned to Charlie since he broke some very fine rules.
"Any idea where they went?"
The Hellhound shook her head. It was a disappointing answer but one that Artyom had to accept. "I got their scent but it's a matter of time before it gets cold. We need to leave, right now."
"One of these days, your dad's company might be the end of me with this amount of bullshit that comes up," Artyom turned around and strode towards a hallway, "Let me get my gear before we set off."
"Hey, you need any help?" Angel offered.
He stopped to steal a glance at the Hellhound. "Your call, Loona."
"I don't know. Isn't this place run by Lucifer's daughter? Not sure if it's a good idea to get any of you involved. It's already bad enough that we got you of all people in trouble," She seemed unsure as she looked back at the Russian in the room. A brief pause was left between them until the Hellborn revealed her conviction, "Fuck it. I'll take all the help I can get. Anyone else want to pile on?"
Vaggie raised her hand. "I'll tell my girlfriend something so she won't raise Hell about it. Besides, I got a spear in the back that needs some blood."
"You, I like you."