Chapter Text
The first thing Blitzø could think to do was rummage through Stolas’ desk, turning the impeccable organization into indiscernible chaos as he looked for the Prince’s backup appointment book. Failing that, he fled the disaster he made of Stolas’ office, cursing himself for not remembering where or with whom Stolas had said his meeting was taking place. He’d been listening while they’d talked that morning, but he’d neglected to ask Stolas to repeat himself when his auditory processing had fritzed out and the conversation had simply continued before he could think to ask him to repeat himself.
He snatched up his phone from the nightstand and opened the Find My Phone app to see if it would tell him Stolas’ location.
His heart dropped when he saw his pin show as being outside of the main city in an area he knew Stolas would have no reason to be. Identifying the nearest cross street, he gripped the Asmodean Crystal, opened a portal to the location and began to run. The area trended more towards the rural, abandoned years ago in favor of the lying promises Imp City had held, back in the tempting earlier days of its inception.
Stolas’ location was centered on a nearby dilapidated spit of land that might have once been a small farm. Nearing the rotting farmhouse, Blitzø lifted his phone to his head with shaking hands, listening for the ring. The sound of Stolas’ phone from somewhere nearby split the otherwise deafening silence. It was so quiet here that not even Nature made a peep.
A wave of dizziness and dread overtook Blitzø, and he nearly fell to his shaking knees. He was frozen in place. What if…? What if Stolas is…?
His breathing kicked up into whimpering gasps as his legs broke into a run before he could think to do otherwise. Following the sound… Drawing his flintlock half-co*cked…
The rotted door on the front porch was open and barely hanging on one hinge. Senses on high alert and his thumb hovering, ready to pull the hammer back at the first hint of threat, Blitzø carefully and quickly swept the room as he entered.
Inside there was evidence that someone had been kept. A chair in the middle of the otherwise empty living room still had some Blessed rope limply hanging on it, sliced away from whatever body it had secured.
He continued his sweep. Every corner found him pausing, shaking, bracing himself lest he be greeted with the one sight he could never prepare for… the one that would irrevocably break him... And every corner that he turned where he didn’t find his beloved cold and dead on the floor was one more inch of relief until he’d cleared the house to his satisfaction. Finally allowing himself to pick up Stolas’ phone from where it had been flung into a corner in the empty living room, Blitzø had to guess that his attempts to reach him had alerted his attackers to its presence, discarding it before they took Stolas to wherever they’d gone.
The only other evidence around were cigarette butts left on a counter in the nearby kitchen and gouges in walls where knives had been repeatedly thrown to stave off boredom. This place had been used as a holding cell while Stolas’ kidnappers had awaited further instructions, if he wasn’t missing his guess.
Didn’t matter now. Stolas was still alive, and he needed help to find him. Blitzø didn’t even hesitate to make his next portal come out directly in Ozzie’s office. He’d be embarrassed and awkward later about catching Ozzie and Fizz in flagrante delicto.
“Blitzø!!!” Fizz yelped from where he’d been riding Ozz enthusiastically on the desk. Scrambling to cover themselves, Ozz manifested their clothes before he whirled up to get into Blitzø’s face with a flash of unsated ire spitting from the glowing green pits of his eyes.
“Stolas is in trouble! He’s been abducted and he’s missing, and I can’t find him!” Blitzø babbled before the irate Rooster could say a word, desperately grabbing the King of Lust by the lapels of his striped vest. “Please! I’m so sorry but I need your help!”
Ozzie’s face blanched, his anger immediately vanishing, and Blitzø took that moment’s opportunity to tell them what had happened – Stolas’ meeting and his attempts to call and their plans to—
“Noooo, we were supposed to have dinner with Via and Loona tonight!” Blitzø wailed. “What am I supposed to tell them?” Panic started to take over. “What am I supposed to tell Via?!
“Fizzie, take Blitzø up to our penthouse, get him a drink, and watch over him while I make some calls, ok?”
Fizz nodded, giving Ozz a tender but urgent kiss before he gathered his distraught best friend to himself and ushered him to the elevator. Neither spoke until they reached the penthouse. Blitzø was lost in his thoughts, his eyes haunted, and Fizz kept quietly looking over at him, unsure of what to say.
He’d be an entire mess if something like this happened to Ozzie and he knew it.
“You guys can’t seem to catch a f*cking break,” he said at last, handing Blitzø a glass of the strongest stuff he had on hand. Satan, what a stupid thing to say! He winced.
Blitzø, for his part, didn’t give him any sh*t for it as he accepted the glass with a weak, grateful smile before he threw the contents back with a gulp and gestured a request for a refill. The third round finally had a noticeable dulling effect on the sharpest edges of his panic. “Thanks, Fizz,” he said at last.
“I just don’t understand it, either. Like, what the actual f*ck could it be this time? Did I kill someone who has a hate-boner for Stolas??” Once the barrage of words began pouring, it felt like he might not be able to stop.
“You don’t suppose this has anything to do with Kevin, do you?” asked Fizz, redirecting Blitzø before he could pick up more steam, worried. “I mean, the timing of this happening…”
Blitzø shook his head. “Why would it have to do with Kevin? Flauros was cool with us. Hell, he was far cooler than Andrealphus or that c*nt Stella!” His voice choked at the mention of their names. The horrible, familiar sensation of ice crashing down his body.
It had finally come out that Stella had been behind the assassination attempts on Stolas’ life and the bitch and her brother had been stripped of their titles, pronounced to be of lower status than Imps throughout all the rings of Hell for good measure, and banished to somewhere in the Greed Ring, forbidden from ever leaving and magically prevented from doing so.
They hadn’t been seen for months by the time Blitzø had ended up cursed and he’d been more than happy to consign those heinous beings to the dusty corners of his memory.
Fizzie and Blitzø’s eyes locked at the same time. “Sonofabitch,” Fizz breathed. “It’s them!”
“It’s the only thing that makes sense!”
“That little sh*t was such a dumbf*ck, how the f*ck did we think he came up with all this all by himself?!”
Fizzie’s question punched Blitzø right in the part of him that had been waiting with dread for something else to happen. The part of him that had been waking up screaming almost every night. The part of him that had known their victory had been too easy. Eerily so.
“Flauros held Kevin’s chain, but Andrealphus and Stella were the ones actually pulling his strings!” He knew he was right. It was the only thing that made any sense whatsoever. He didn’t know how they’d managed to get to Kevin, but somehow, they had. Unless that little sh*t’s borrowed powers of teleportation were enough to break the restrictions that usually held Sinners unable to leave the Pride Ring!
f*ck!
Gasping with the spike of horror that set his adrenaline screaming through his veins, Blitzø threw open a portal that led to somewhere in the Greed Ring and made to run.
“What the f*ck do you think you’re doing?!” Fizz shrieked in abrupt panic, tackling Blitzø face-down to the floor before he could make it more than a few steps and binding his retractable limbs about his person like ropes. “You can’t just go running off there alone!”
“Fizz, lemme go!” Blitzø screamed, his howling voice reaching a pitch of desperation that could have shattered crystal. “You don’t understand! That f*cking c*nt is crazy! She’s gonna kill him!” I can’t let him down again!!
“Blitzo!!!” Fizzarolli thundered at him, causing Blitzø to freeze at the sound of his old name. Fizz gave him a shake for good measure.
“You came to me and Ozzie so we could help you get him back alive! Think for a goddamn minute! Do you have a better chance if you go running off alone with no idea where you’re going or if you come with me right now and we go tell Ozzie what we’ve figured out? Hmmm?!” he asked sharply, shaking him again for emphasis.
Blitzø’s breathing, gasping violently in his chest, stuttered at Fizz’s pragmatism.
“I can’t lose him, Fizz,” he wept brokenly. “Not again. Not after all this!”
Fizz hugged him tightly. “Come with me right now to Ozzie and I swear to you, we won’t let that happen.” He let go, scrambled to his feet, and held out a hand.
Wiping away the tears that had formed in his panic, Blitzø took his best friend’s proffered hand and, together, they raced for the elevator.
~*~*~*~*~
To say that Stolas was sick of this nonsense would be making the grandest understatement possible. Of all the emotions whirling in his head as he sat, bound and left powerless by Blessed rope, that one stood out the most.
Sure, he was afraid. He’d been delivered into Stella’s unhinged clutches after being taken from a meeting that turned out to be nothing but a trap. One look at her face upon his arrival had been enough to tell him she had every intent to make this meeting their last.
But his fear was tempered by the unshakeable knowing that his Blitzy would figure out what had happened. That he would come for him. In times past, the fantasy of Blitzø swooping in to rescue him had been enough to make him giddy. But that had been before Striker had given him the soberest of reality checks at a moment when Blitzø himself had been thoroughly indisposed.
No, the certainty that now held him was different. Rather than the whimsical flutterings of a romance novel damsel in distress, Stolas instead felt himself embraced by calm. His Blitzy would figure out what happened. His Blitzy would find him.
That certainty had deepened when his phone had chimed back at the farmhouse. He’d only gotten a brief glimpse of the notification when his phone was yanked free of his pocket, but it was Blitzy asking about his meeting. He hadn’t had much time to react before one of his kidnappers had received a call, responding as though he were receiving new orders. After the call, Stolas had been rendered unconscious again by a cloth over his beak, the odor sickly sweet.
And then he’d awoken here. The moment he saw Stella leering at him evilly from across this small, gauchely decorated room, Stolas began to understand. Somehow, Stella had been involved in the Kevin fiasco. And since she wasn’t particularly known for her wits, it only stood to reason that Andrealphus had been the… mastermind, for lack of a better word.
Stolas frowned as the thought occurred to him. What was Andrealphus thinking? He was usually far more calculating than this. If the endgame was to kill him… Stolas couldn’t imagine what he hoped to gain from it…
Ah… No. Andrealphus had been behind the plot with Kevin, Stolas realized. But this kidnapping? Somehow, this had been all Stella. She wanted him dead with a reckless, blind ferocity, unable to see how she’d be sealing her own doom. Unable to care that she’d be hurting her own daughter by doing so.
It was quite sad, really. For one to be so empty that only cruelty could fuel them… What a miserable existence.
“It’s so fun watching you lie to yourself,” Stella sneered at him from the doorway across the room.
“It’s utterly bewildering to watch you destroy yourself,” Stolas shot back, bracing instinctively from years of having been shackled in marriage to the horrific shrew that now stalked toward him. He barely flinched when the backhand landed.
“I’m so sick of you!” she shrieked at him, grabbing his crest and yanking his face close.
Stolas’ expression withered from the alcohol reeking on her breath. Only Blitzø’s type of language could possibly suffice for the steep offence Stella dealt his olfactory senses.
“Satan, Lucifer, and Sweaty Ba’al’s in a bucket, what the f*ck have you been drinking?! You and Andrealphus must have fallen lower than I thought if you’re willingly imbibing swill that smells like it was distilled in a dirty dive bar toilet!”
Thankfully, Stella shoved him away and he breathed clean air with gratitude. Well… cleaner air, anyway. The room of whatever house he was in smelled stale and musty with faint notes of cigar stink that seemed to permeate everything and probably got stronger the closer you got to its usual source.
Between the smells and the décor that screamed “I’m deranged and never escaped my New Money Phase!” it was easy to surmise that this house didn’t belong to Stella. Stolas couldn’t help the grin that cracked his face as he pictured the loathing she must have for everything about this horrible, tasteless abode.
“So, what is your game plan here, Stella?” he asked sharply while he still had her off balance from his taunting. “It’s rather obvious you didn’t think this through.”
“My game plan is to see you dead at last,” she spat.
“Yes, yes, I know,” Stolas huffed impatiently, “that’s so very original of you, but what is it you’re hoping to gain from it? That’s what I don’t understand.”
“The satisfaction!”
Stolas stared. And waited. Confused, he looked left and right before looking back at her with a sneer. “That’s it?”
“I’m so sick of all of this,” she slurred at him, showing that her alcohol consumption might have been helpfully recent. “I just want you to die. That’s all I’ve wanted for years.” She sank down petulantly to the floor like a little girl about to have a tantrum, her voice broken on the verge of tears.
Jesus Christ, he almost felt sorry for her. “Why on earth?” he demanded. “What the f*ck have I ever done to you to warrant this?” She opened her mouth and he promptly held up an unrestrained, taloned foot to silence her. “And so help me, if you even think of using Blitzø as your excuse…”
“I never wanted to be married to you!”
“Well, good! I never wanted to be married to you either! But at least I did us the favor of divorcing you! I would have even let you go happily on your way with whatever properties you wanted, but instead, you just keep trying to kill me and you got yourself banished for your efforts!
“Truly, you are so ridiculously lack witted at letting yourself have what you actually want, how do you breathe without life support?!”
Stella flew at him then and her untrained fist crunched against his cheekbone, provoking her to draw back with a scream to cradle her broken hand and wrist. Stolas couldn’t be arsed to feel sorry for her as he trilled his delight at her agony. Years of slapping and backhanding him around, she’d never thought to ball up her fist like this and it delighted him that she didn’t have a clue as to how to throw a punch. His sensitive ears had caught the delicate snap of hollow bones when she’d struck him, and the sound had been as beautiful to him as a silver harp. Serves you every right, bitch.
He felt a lick of triumph when she turned away from him and marched towards the door, thinking she might finally leave. But she stopped instead by a dresser and pulled a belt out of a drawer, clenching it tightly with her good hand. The intent was obvious. And even without it being Heaven-Blessed, she had every clear intention of making every blow count.
Stolas’ eyes flashed warily, a wave of dread hitting his stomach. Clenching his beak, his mind whirling desperately, he breathed a steadying breath, forcing himself to go to a place normally only reserved for his beloved Imp.
It caused him to tremble with anticipation and revulsion simultaneously, but it was imperative for him to keep as much of his power as possible. He could not allow her break him. The moment she did, it would be over. He knew it with the same certainty with which he read the stars. She wouldn’t let herself kill him without the satisfaction of having him broken at her feet and begging for mercy. She was too pent up with hate and bloodlust to do any less.
So, he would have to outlast her.
The first lash of the belt struck him in the chest with such an aggressive bite, Stolas was unable to refrain from that first startled yelp. His stomach roiled with disgust as his mind took over. Closing all four of his eyes, his mind grabbed for the sting of the belt still screaming on his skin, turning the scream into a song.
His body could feel the hate she beat into him over and over, but his mind cloaked him with the soothing memories of being at his Blitzy’s mercy instead. He received each blow with an increase of pleasure, pretending that it was Blitzø who handled him so roughly, trying to ignore the fact that Stella’s unmitigated rage could never compare to his beloved’s passionate skill.
Never mind that his lover would never let the lash fall upon his face like this. Never mind that his lover knew how to hurt him properly. Knew where to strike him to leave him begging for more. His mind grabbed desperately for beauty amid the pain that was all wrong. So disgustingly wrong!
The belt bit cruelly at welts that hadn’t had the chance to diminish, his natural healing abilities drained by the Blessed ropes that held him fast and Stolas couldn’t restrain another cry. It was by the sheer miracle of his mind keeping him tucked away with Blitzø, causing his body to be so activated, that he was able to receive the blow with a saucy cry of pleasure rather than the agony Stella strove to wring from him.
Trembling from the effort it took to keep his mind free enough of her abuse, Stolas smirked to himself as Stella reared back with shrieking disgust. “You’re actually enjoying this?!” She beat him again. And again. “You. Are. Dis. Gus. Ting!” Every syllable was punctuated by another slap.
Stolas arched dramatically against the ropes binding him to his chair, putting extra punch into the moan that dredged from his beak. “Ohhhh, harder, Mummy!” he begged. The focus he had to have on his performance to keep from retching around those words should have been enough to earn him awards.
Stella fled to the other side of the room, shaking in rage and confusion. This was not supposed to be happening!
“Ohhh, come baaaack!” Stolas whined at her, undulating in his bonds. “I’m getting so close! Haven’t I been a good boy for you, Mummyyyyy?” He cheered silently to himself as Stella threw the belt at his face with one final scream of revulsion and fled the room.
Stolas, trembling, managed to keep his breathing in ironclad, purposeful control until every sound of Stella faded away. Only then did his own abhorrence make itself abundantly known in the way his stomach lurched, the only warning he had before his body wrenched against the ropes to unload the remnants of his most recent meal onto the floor. The urge to break down sobbing rose with the bile in his throat, almost breaking past his control.
~*~*~*~*~
Blitzø kicked open the doors to Ozzie’s office hard enough to splinter the wood. “Ozzie! We know who—” he stopped short at the sight of all the people who turned and gawked at him, startled.
Ozzie was in the middle of the room where he’d been locked in intense, focused conversation with Flauros. Surrounding them were Vortex and Queen Bee, Verosika and Barbie — standing close with an arm about each other’s waists, Moxxie and Millie, Sallie May… Blitzø’s stomach plummeted when his eyes found Loona and Octavia. The eyes of the latter were swimming with worry. The moment Blitzø’s eyes found his and Stolas’ daughters, he didn’t take in anyone else’s presence.
“You called the girls?!” Blitzø barked through angry tears, glaring at Ozzie.
“Blitzø, we need everyone—”
“You weren’t supposed to call the girls!” he dragged in a sob. “I was supposed to get Stolas back before they could worry! Before Via could worry!” Before Via had to find out that it was her own mother. Again. And it was obvious from the look on her face that that cat was already out of the bag and committing zoomies around the room in her head.
Octavia fled across the room to grab him up in her arms. “I’ll be mad at you later that you didn’t want to tell me,” she said as she hugged him fiercely. “I just want to help get my dad back.”
Blitzø shook his head fiercely. “No! No, I need you to stay—”
“I know it’s my mum,” she cut him off quietly.
He pulled himself out of her arms so he could look her full in the face, his heart breaking for her. “Then you know what I’m going to do to her.” The brandywine of his eyes glowed to boiling, beyond his control, and Octavia flinched.
“Via, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all of it, but you’re staying here.” He glared over at Loona. “You both are staying here. Neither of you are getting anywhere near this. Because no matter what happens, someone is dying today. And I will do literally anything to make sure it’s not Stolas,” he looked Via full in her haunted eyes, his own burning with regret to keep her from the heat of his rage, “but I refuse to have you there to witness it. It’s not. f*cking. Happening. Do you understand?”
Via’s eyes overflowed as the reality of Blitzø’s words hit her and she nodded fearfully. One way or another, she was losing a parent today. Her mother was determined to kill her father. And Blitzø was rabidly determined to kill her mother once and for all to save him. He couldn’t save her from this knowledge, but she could let him save her from having to see it.
“Via I’m sor—”
“Do what you have to do to save my dad,” she cut him off, her eyes squeezing shut as she began to grieve the mother that she’d never really had.
“She made this choice. She made this choice over and over. And she’s clearly never going to stop. So, make her stop.”
She couldn’t look at him. She couldn’t bear to ever see him like this again. She just wanted to picture the Blitzø that her father had fallen so madly in love with. That Blitzø made her feel safe. That was the Blitzø she had grown to love, herself. And she could feel him with her now, but she knew she wouldn’t see him if she looked. And if she looked, she might never be able to picture him ever again.
So, she squeezed his hand and kept her eyes closed. She would keep them closed until she was sure he was gone. Loona made it easier for her. She grabbed her stepsister’s hand, gave Blitzø one last look of supportive determination, and led Via through a portal to her and Blitzø’s ratty but cozy apartment. Where it was safe. Where Via could see the evidence of the Blitzø who adored her father with all the cheeky fun he possessed. The Blitzø who made her feel safe. The last sight that Blitzø had of them before the portal closed was of Loona wrapping Via in his horse blanket...
~*~*~*~*~
“Stella and Andrealphus managed to weasel their way in with Crimson after they were banished,” Flauros explained to Blitzø after they were able to get down to business. “After I granted Kevin the power to get his revenge on you, I unwittingly granted him the power to teleport outside of the Pride Ring.” Flauros’ beak twisted in still-seething self-loathing at his own carelessness.
“This enabled him to find people who wanted you to suffer just as much as he did. And while you already know, I’m sure, how he and Andrealphus came up with the plan to ‘erase’ your existence, I was able to find out that Kevin and Stella came up with a secret plan of their own to execute should the main plan fail.”
“How did you find this out?” Blitzø asked suspiciously.
“Asmodeus gave me a copy of what he and Stolas found from Kevin’s golem, and I read the rest of the energy that they wouldn’t have been privy to.”
Blitzø stared and blinked in hopeless confusion. “I’m sorry, you’re really gonna have to dumb it down further for me.”
“Basically,” Flauros said with unflinching patience, “You could see the colors, yes?” Blitzø nodded his affirmative. “And Stolas and Asmodeus could read those colors enough to figure out that Kevin was bound to me, you recall?” Another nod.
“Well, as Kevin’s master, I can read those colors of his magic so much deeper. I can read his entire history in those colors. And in reading the colors, I saw the contingency plan he crafted with Stella.
“In the event the plan to erase your existence failed, a cadre of Crimson’s henchmen were to exact the abduction of the Prince and deliver him to Stella at Crimson’s mansion. I’m sure you can divine the rest.”
Blitzø had so many more questions for him, but Flauros had just told him the most salient information he needed. Without a word, he turned from Flauros and pulled out the Crystal to open a portal.
“What are you doing?” Flauros barked in alarm. “You can’t just run in there blindly! You have no idea what kinds of backup they could be working with! Crimson hardly brought all his cronies to that confrontation! Undoubtedly, he left plenty behind!”
Blitzø glared at him like he was bored. “Two pissy Goetia and a bunch of dumbsh*ts against another pissy Goetia, two Royally pissed off Sins, my best friends, and me? The seriously pissed off husband-to-be?! Bitch, please. They’ll be running for their lives!” He didn’t waste another second throwing open the portal and jumping through. “Y’all f*ckwads coming or what?!”
~*~*~*~*~
After scoping the place and clocking the placements of the outer guards, of which they counted about 20, the plan was for Moxxie to find a good sniper’s perch. Ozzie, Bee, Vortex, Verosika and her crew would hang back until signaled, while Flauros strolled to the front door under the pretense of paying Andrealphus and Stella a visit. What sort of visit? Why, perhaps he wanted to have a discussion as to what they thought they were doing with his little pet, that’s all. After all, it’s a little rude and uncouth to use someone else’s pet without the owner’s permission, is it not? Just wanting to get on the same page and then let bygones be bygones!
And while Flauros served as the distraction, Blitzø would portal himself, Millie, Sallie May, and Barbie up on the roof where they could make their way into the upper bedrooms and start searching for Stolas and clear out whatever walking dick-jokes they happened upon in the process. Once they found him, Barbie would help Blitzø keep Stolas safe, and Millie and her sister would plow the road for them.
Yeah, Blitzø could portal Stolas out of there to immediate safety, but he wasn’t leaving without that bitch’s head on a f*cking spike on the front gate. He was gonna get Stolas safe and then he was gonna make sure Stolas got to stay safe. Permanently. And he’d feel a lot better with his Prince by his side than if he dumped him off somewhere and trusted someone else to care about his safety even half as much as he did.
At Ozzie's signal as Flauros was ushered into the mansion, Blitzø made the portal and stepped quietly onto the roof, followed by his companions. They waited while Barbie, in all her acrobatic stealth, raced silently across the roof, lowering to peek in windows, until she motioned them over to where her search ended. Anchoring his tail where Barbie pointed, Blitzø lowered himself over the edge to see with his own eyes. His first feeling was that of crashing relief as he beheld his beloved Owl still alive. Next was fury. Although Stolas’ back was facing him, there was at least one mirror placed well enough to grant him a view of his lover’s face and what he saw… made him seethe.
Stolas was covered in bruises, cuts, and welts, prevented from healing by the Blessed rope that bound him. His lower left eye was swollen shut from mistreatment and Blitzø smelled vomit intermingled with Stolas’ blood. And on the floor at Stolas’ feet, next to his puddle of sick, was the belt that had done all the damage.
Cold, icy wrath sludged its way through Blitzø’s veins as he reeled at the sight of what his precious Owl had endured. Letting go with his tail, Blitzø dropped silently onto the balcony. Stolas was alone in the room, but doubtless Stella had posted guards right outside the door. Looking up, he motioned for Barbie to come help him.
To Millie and Sallie May, he hissed, “Go find another way in and see if you can start quietly dealing with the guards.” The sisters nodded tightly before they disappeared out of his sight.
Turning, he gave the nod to Barbie to pick the basic-bitch-ass lock that closed the balcony doors. The lock gave with a quiet click and the doors opened without a squeak. Blitzø scuttled forward quietly on all fours behind the Owl until he could put his hand over Stolas’ beak and make him aware of his presence before skirting around to his front, careful to avoid the vomit.
Stolas startled with a quiet yelp as expected, but the eyes he could open quickly focused on Blitzø’s face, as evidenced by the intense points of light that beheld him with adoration.
Blitzy! Stolas mouthed at him in a silent cry of joy, sagging his forehead against Blitzø’s chest. The Imp, in turn, embraced his Owl fiercely but gently, unable to hide how his entire being had been shaking since realizing Stolas was missing. Blitzø allowed himself enough of a moment to grab Stolas’ face in his hands to kiss him senseless before he got to work on cutting the Blessed ropes.
Fuuuuuuck!!! These were a bitch to cut without a Blessed blade! Why hadn’t he thought to grab the one he’d claimed off of Striker?! It turned out Barbie was way ahead of him. He’d sent her Striker’s other Blessed dagger as one last olive branch after their recent confrontation and, curse her brilliance, she had it on her!
She slashed deftly through the ropes and helped Blitzø pull the tall Prince shakily to his feet before he knelt so that he could nuzzle into his Imp for comfort. It took every shred of Blitzø’s self-control to keep from crushing Stolas to him out of concern for his wounds. It figured that Stolas looked so calm amidst the relief that now softened his features while Blitzø had to fight to keep from sobbing and becoming an entire-ass mess.
They allowed themselves a moment to hold each other until Barbie touched them both to signal that it was time to be ready to go. Still, Blitzø didn’t let Stolas go until he saw the Owl’s wounds beginning to sluggishly knit and heal with his own eyes. It would take quite a while for Stolas’ body to completely heal and for his magic to recharge from having been so sapped by the ropes, but at the very least, Blitzø could already see improvement.
He heard a few soft thuds and muffled grunts right outside their door and then a soft series of rhythmic knocks from Millie signaling that this part of the coast was clear. They silently agreed on Millie and Sallie May walking ahead to sweep, Barbie following close behind to catch any stragglers, then Stolas, and then Blitzø, to ensure no one snuck up on them.
It wasn’t a bad plan, but since their intention was to carve their way down to confront Stella and Andrealphus in a sort of pincer maneuver, they knew it would only be a matter of time before they found themselves in a larger encounter.
Spotting a sword on the wall that only appeared decorative to the untrained eye, Blitzø grabbed it and tested the weight and sharpness. Indeed, intended to be grabbed in case of emergency, but to otherwise be unremarkable compared to the rest of the decor, it was deliciously functional! Looking at Stolas, he silently held up the blade in an obvious, grinning gesture:
You know how to use one of these?
Blitzø’s insides quivered, and his spikes rattled lightly at the look on Stolas’ face as, with a saucy, smug smile, he accepted the blade with an easy, practiced flourish. Holy Hawt Lucifer, his Owl was so f*cking sexy! Stolas winked an upper eye at him as he then deftly tossed the blade into his other hand, showing a predisposition for ambidexterity. Blitzø couldn’t help the drool that almost got away from him before he swiped it hurriedly away. Stolas’ eyes gleamed knowingly before he snapped his focus to the business at hand.
He followed the lady Imps in front of him, carefully following their footsteps and doing his best to keep low as they went. Blitzø began to wonder if maybe he should have had Barbie take up the rear, because it was apparently impossible for his Owl Prince to be anything but sexy and ridiculously adorable trying to squat-waddle behind the girls and oh, how he wanted to bite that ass!
Still, it became much easier to focus when he saw Millie and her sister stiffen and take up positions, preparing to f*ck up whoever was about to round the corner.
Wielding a pair of daggers each, they took out the Envy Shark before he even had the chance to look surprised, much less gurgle. Barbie was there to help them catch the body before the thud could expose them.
Pressing onward, they emerged into a more open area that overlooked the downstairs foyer. Before they could take any cover, another Shark saw them from across the way, far out of grappling reach, and opened his mouth to sound the alarm. Before anyone else could twitch, Stolas flipped the blade in his hand and sent it flying, spinning end-over-end until the point slid neatly through the Shark’s throat and embedded in the wall on the other side with a barely perceptible thunk. The Shark sank against the blade with a muffled squeak and the light in his eyes guttered dark.
Millie and Sallie May leapt across the open air to retrieve Stolas’ sword and hide the body in a nearby room while Barbie guided her brother and the Owl to take cover in an alcove. While they waited, they could hear Flauros’ voice chatting it up with Stella somewhere nearby downstairs. Probably the parlor.
Blitzø curled his lip as the memory of the last time he was in this house finally hit him full force. He’d be super jazzed to never have to come here again. With a small huffing chuckle, he wondered if Crimson ever did get all those dild*es out of his walls. He hoped so. He’d hate for Stolas to get any ideas.
At that thought, Blitzø actually shuddered.
~*~*~*~*~
“I must say, my dear,” Flauros looked around the room with a disgusted twist of his beak, “it truly is a wonder how you have managed to retain your sanity in this nightmare of a hovel.” The fact that he managed to keep his expression flawlessly genuine around the wry way he said “sanity” should have been enough to earn him a standing ovation from the peanut gallery he so dearly hoped was close by!
The woman was practically staggering, she was so drunk. Flauros had never seen someone put so much alcohol into their tea before. It was a wonder the milk didn’t curdle upon contact! I bet she misses being married to Stolas now! He sipped quietly so he could keep his expression neutral and quell the urge to chirp the smugness burgeoning in his chest.
“Where is your brother?” Flauros asked after politely listening to her babble about her incoherent complaints while she cradled a hand that appeared to be injured but mending. Something about finding a bunch of dicks in the walls? Nonsense, surely.
“Who?” she glared at him blearily.
“Your brother, Andrealphus,” Flauros patiently reminded her, tempted to snap his fingers in her face to keep her focused. “I need to speak with—”
“My brother is a spineless… jackass!” she finally slurred petulantly. “Too busy planning, always f*ckin’ planning, but does he ever do his silly plans?! No!” she screamed, looking at Flauros in disdained disbelief, sloshing her tea everywhere as she gesticulated. “No, all he does is make plans while always telling ME to let MY plans fall by the wayside! I’m f*cking done with it!”
“Indeed,” Flauros placated smoothly. “But can you tell me where using my pet without my permission came into play?” When Stella stiffened, he waved her off. “Oh, come, come, Stella, do be calm. I’m only here so we can get on the same page about everything. You know as well as I do that it’s quite crass to use someone else’s toys without permission, but I’m not above sharing.”
“It was Andrealphus’ idea,” Stella muttered.
“Oh, I am more than certain that it was,” Flauros replied sweetly, saluting her with his pinky as he took another sip. “But have you any idea when he’ll return?” At Stella’s guarded expression, cradling her broken hand closer, he reached for her with an air of compassion. “I’m not here for anything but a lovely chat over tea. Surely, even momentary losses of manners can be smoothed over with tea. I rather say you’ve already been through quite enough, darling.”
Something about her demeanor told Flauros that he was tripping too close to trying-too-hard territory. Interesting. The little harridan seemed to have picked up a few wits about her.
“So, you were saying, Andrealphus is…” he coaxed her, hoping to distract her.
“Out.”
Alrighty, then. He nodded at her with a shrug and quietly accepted her answer. “My dear, I’ve been meaning to ask since you welcomed me in, whatever happened to your hand?”
She snatched it closer, her eyes beginning to glow a maddened purple. Oh, dear. Stella had become even more of a minefield than he remembered.
Wonderful. I just keep f*cking it up, don’t I?
“Why are you here?” Stella hissed, her eyes narrowing to glinting slits.
Flauros allowed his genuine concern for his safety to flash across his face. She had always been loud and uncaringly obnoxious at her parties and other Goetian social gatherings, but now he was beholding glimpses of the unhinged ex-wife that Blitzø had informed him of in his panic. He decided it was best to remind Stella that her status had always been below his own.
Narrowing his own eyes right back, they began to flare his emerald-and-amethyst glory. “Watch yourself, Stella. Never forget that you were below me even before you had your title stripped from you.”
It should have worked. And if Flauros were dealing with any other Stella than the one that sat before him, it might have. But before him sat a Stella who had nothing more to lose. And that Stella now had a Carmine-crafted Blessing-tipped derringer pointed right at his chest.
“Oh, shi—” the loud report of gunfire cut him off and Flauros felt himself flung back into his seat, feeling like he’d just been punched in the chest by an angry, demonic gorilla. He glared at Stella, not wanting to look down to see the damage she had just done to him.
“You stupid bitch,” he rasped, grinning, as his vision began to swim. She leveled the gun at him again. At his head. The clenching of her beak was the only warning he got before—
CRASH! Blitzø leapt over the railing from the second floor above and threw himself directly onto Stella at the same moment that the front door was kicked off its hinges by Vortex.
As Sharks and Imps began to flood the room, Verosika and the rest of her crew filed around Vortex to stand protectively in front of Flauros.
“One warning, that’s all you get!” Verosika promised the collection of henchmen before her.
“Or what?” leered a Shark right in her face, “You’ll f*ck us to death?”
Verosika didn’t budge. “It’s hilarious how you seem to think you’d enjoy that,” she sneered before she blew a kiss at him. That kiss turned into a cotton candy cloud that she waved over him and his cohorts, forcing it into their lungs with her magic, and turning their dicks so hard that they all fell to their knees, crying and screaming from the blue balls. Her crew wasted no time taking advantage of the opportunity, pouncing on the screaming lackies, and a fight broke out.
Millie and Barbie leapt into the fray from the second floor while one of Verosika’s people rushed to Flauros’ side.
While all this was happening, Blitzø grappled with Stella over her gun, tearing into her like a feral cat and employing every possible limb to get the Blessed weapon out of her grasp. It should have been easy. Stella’s hand hadn’t entirely healed. But she was completely snapped and fought him back with a rabid ferocity he hadn’t expected to match his own.
In the scrambling confusion, Stella managed to get her injured arm tightly around Blitzø’s throat and put the derringer against his temple. He clawed and clutched at her, trying to find purchase to bite her arm, but the moment the muzzle of the Blessing-tipped weapon sizzled against his head, Blitzø froze.
“Put him down, Stella!” thundered Asmodeus from the doorway where he had just entered the mansion after sizing himself down to fit.
“Ah-ah!” Stella barked, shoving the gun harder against Blitzø’s head. “Not another step! Everyone back the f*ck off!”
Barbie pushed to the front of the crowd now frozen uncertainly around Stella and Blitzø, her eyes blazing with the fury that shook her body. “Bitch, you’d better let my brother go! Nobody holds a f*cking gun to his head but me!”
“Try it,” Stella snarled, tightening her arm around Blitzø’s throat. Barbie’s own snarl deepened, her expression promising to excavate an entirely new ring of hell especially for the rampallian peahen. So deeply locked were they, the tension building between them so rampantly in the stillness, that absolutely no one was expecting the still-wounded, still-drained Stolas to launch himself over the railing.
He didn’t even so much as cry out. Like the swooping, silent bird of prey he resembled, he leapt, the talons of his feet ready to score flesh. They caught Stella on the shoulders, the impact forcing her arms to release Blitzø sprawling across the floor before the rest of Stolas’ weight raked sizable gashes down her back.
He didn’t even think. Couldn’t think. He was still too drained of power to explode into his Beast, but he could pay her back in dearest kind. Every insult, every slap, every humiliation, every violation she had ever committed upon him paled in comparison to the rage he felt when he saw that c*nt dare to put her gun against his Blitzy’s head!
Dropping his sword, Stolas grabbed Stella’s flesh-torn back and rolled her over so he could let his fists fly. For the first time ever in Stolas’ existence, he struck his ex-wife. Years upon years of gentle restraint shredded to ribbons as he, shrieking loud enough to make ears bleed, beat the ever-loving sh*t out of the bitch who’d abused him, who’d tried to murder him, and who had now tried to threaten his dearest love before his very eyes.
Everyone was too stunned to move, and Stolas got in five or six really good hits before a new sound interrupted everything. A new portal ripped open, bringing with it a gust of icy air and a chilling shriek on the wind.
Everything was already happening too fast for anyone present to know what to do with, so when Andrealphus reached through the portal with his icy magic to grab Stella, Stolas, and Blitzø and yank them through, no one was able to do anything more than yelp in shock before the portal closed and cut them off.
