Chapter 46: Future Planning

Chapter 46: Future Planning

Back at home the two demons began their search through the rats nest that was St. Drogo's finances. Bael knew the basics of what Kitch stole and how she did it. But his bureaucratic senses were tingling. There was something strange about the numbers.

Maharet pushed a stray hair away from her face. “Bael, why are we doing this?”

He looked up from the mound of paper. “I like mysteries and it's not like I have much else to do. Besides, I want Six to have the best experience at school.”

“Yes, but the bet is over now. There is nothing stopping us from leaving.” She pointed out.

“Ah, yes I was hoping you wouldn't bring that up.” He leaned back in his chair. “I feel bad for Six and I don't want to abandon her. But there are also my duties in hell to consider and I don't know if I would be a fit parent even if I did stay. I honestly don't know what to do.”

“Wait, really? I'm amazed you don't already have a plan.” Maharet looked at him incredulously. “We could find a family to take her in but....” She shook her head.

“I can't imagine that would go over well either. She turns ten years old soon so it's about an eight year commitment if I stay. I have enough time off saved up to cover it. But I didn’t want to commit you to something without talking about it first.”

She considered her options while Bael rambled on. With the bet canceled there was nothing stopping her from going back to hell. Technically she could commute from the mortal realm and her nausea from traveling was getting a lot better. She hardly even noticed it now.

With Bael playing house spouse it wouldn't be the worst idea. “If I kept working would you be willing to give your support?”

“Absolutely, as long as it is a project I agree with. I'm not going to promise carte blanche. But I'll be in your corner.” Bael's face fell. “Of course that means we would have to sever the bond.”

“And there's the added complication that according to at least one prophecy you're supposed to kick off the apocalypse.” Maharet pursed her lips. “Plus there was the dream you had. The one about the old house.”

Bael considered this information. “I hate prophecies.”

“You hate not being in control.” Maharet corrected.

“That too.” He admitted. “But this whole situation stinks of divine intervention. If something this big was going on I would at least have heard about it. Our side is notoriously bad at keeping secrets.”

“You're right. Hell would be mobilizing if they knew Armageddon was coming. But it is just business as usual from what I've seen.” Maharet shook her head, already regretting what she was about to say. “I may have to reach out to my contacts in heaven to see what they have heard. If Gabriel and the rest are preparing for battle then we at least know which side is responsible.”

She thought about her secret. It was all well and good to plan for the future. But she wasn't about to build their life together based on a lie. “Bael, I'm a fallen angel.”

He nodded. “Yes, I am well aware of your history. What about it?”

“She said that Cherry 'might be’ but she's not sure. Apparently there was a wild party at Harrows and a lot of alcohol involved.” He shrugged. “So that narrows it down to half of hell’s cloven hoofed occupants. I haven't even spoken to Lilah since we split, much less crawled into her bed. So Cherry can’t be mine, no matter what her mom says.”

“Wait... why don't you go to Harrows anymore? I remember hearing something about you saying you would be back when hell froze over.”

“Oh right, it's a bit embarrassing. One of the clergy snuck in posing as a waiter and dumped a pitcher of holy water on me. I reacted poorly.” Bael grimaced.

“You got doused in holy water? At Harrows?” How had she not heard about this?

“Yep. A whole pitcher of the stuff. It ruined my suit and the book I was reading.” Bael continued on, oblivious as always.

“How are you alive?”

“I've built up a resistance to holy water and angelic weapons over the centuries via a process of inoculation. Believe me, it comes in handy.”

“But how?” Then she got it. “Are you saying that you're resistant to holy water and holy artifacts because you've been stabbed so many times?”

“Yes. Like I said, inoculation.” Bael smiled proudly, unsure if he was misusing the word but deciding to roll with it anyway.

“That's insane!”

Bael laughed. “Let me tell you about something insane. Once my secretary tried to kill me by brewing my morning tea with holy water. I was on my second cup before I figured out what was going on.”

“But where did they get holy water? It's pretty hard to smuggle that stuff into hell.”

“Yes, but it's easy enough to make if you know the secret. Even a minor demon can convert regular water into holy water.” Bael said.

“Really, how?” Maharet figured that if such a process existed she would have heard about it.

Bael smirked. “You just take regular water, then you boil the hell out of it.”

“Boo!” Maharet smacked him with a pillow. “That's a terrible pun. What's the dad jokes all of a sudden?”

Bael shrugged. “I just think they're funny.”

From her hidden perch on top of the bookshelf Arson rolled her eyes. For a baron of hell, Bael really was oblivious.