Bentley Hellbourne was the worst demon in all of Hell. Good thing she's dead now... right?
Her death at the hands of her angelic arch-nemesis ended the war between Heaven and Hell. And now, eighty-five years later, the world is finally getting used...
RJ's Note: DOUBLE UPDATE THIS WEEK because we missed our regular release date due to travel. MAKE SURE YOU HAVE CAUGHT UP ON ALL THE PREVIOUS CHAPTERS BEFORE READING!
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Outside the Cupboard, the Parisian night felt a little quieter than it was supposed to. A brief passing rain was busy making itself known, washing the eventful night away with the promise of a cleaner tomorrow. The soothing rush of water against pavement lightened the rather unhappy mood just a little, but the general air of guilt and concern was still hanging low over everyone's heads.
With everything that had happened, Atticus sincerely hoped that Frances would be okay. With any luck, things would ease up a little and the whole group could go back and check on them when it was safe. But until then, the image of Frances' big, tear-stained eyes would haunt Atticus with mixed emotions of loss and shame.
"Alright, where do we go now?" Bentley asked, looking out at the soaking wet streets. "This city is dreadful..."
"Well if you would be so inclined," Xander suggested, "I could take you two back to Hell—"
"Not until it freezes over," said Lucy.
Atticus glanced over. Both Lucy and Bentley were wearing identical expressions of disgust at the mere suggestion.
"Lucy," Atticus said, "You've managed to stay in hiding for a long time. What are your suggestions?"
"Well I've got a great apartment over in Los Angeles," he replied, "It's well warded, but there's absolutely no chance you would want to stay there,"
"Oh? Why's that?" Bentley asked.
"I live next-door to Zibs,"
"Okay, yeah, that's off the table,"
"I also have a residence in the United States," said Atticus, "However, it probably isn't safe at a time like this. We would need to properly ward it first, and that would take too much time,"
The whole scene fell silent as the group wracked their brains for any solution. Around them, the rain continued its gentle pitter-patter. The problem was, they had plenty of options and all of them were less than ideal. Xander was the only one who wouldn't be in serious trouble if they went to Hell. If they stayed in Lucy's apartment, Hephzibah might just try strangling the whole lot of them. And Atticus' house was just generally unsafe since he had recently defected from Heaven. Even if they went somewhere random like Pomegranate Hill, the forces of Heaven would probably track them down eventually. All of them put their heads together, but to no avail. There just wasn't anywhere left for them to go.
...Or that was the case until a slight buzz came from Atticus' pocket. Puzzled, he glanced down.
"It's from Micaiah," he said, startled.
"Who's Micaiah?" Lucy asked.
"It's a long story." Bentley waved a hand, "What does she want with you?"
