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Mending the Broken

Chapter Ten

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Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

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The music of the gig pulsed and pounded, raging assault on their ears. Yet Blitz leapt and headbanged like the best of them, even when it was not appropriate for the song playing. Metal screamed through the microphones, the demons wearing some kind of hideous masks, though they were still discernible as several different species: imp, succubi, horse and some sort of weird fox with multiple tails that were all over the place. Of course, in Blitz' opinion, the horse was the best, even if they were not the kind of Hell horse that he was the most familiar with.

"Hey! They're not bad!"

He shouted over the music, though his voice, as loud and as obnoxious as it was, was lost in it, jumping in place, fist-pumping the air. Even though there were plenty of other demons on the dance floor before the band doing exactly the same, letting the screaming pulse of the music carry them away, Loona still cringed.

Damn, he's embarrassing...

He'd come dressed as she wanted him to, though it was not all that far out of his usual style, which had helped the ruse some. The ripped black trousers, the tall boots that he'd already had, the mesh shirt with tiny stars that covered much less than it should have. The belt she'd found for him had been a nice touch, though it was almost too large for the imp's narrow hips, adding a touch of silver with the stars. Of course, they were not real silver, but he probably wouldn't have bought something at Stylish Occult that cost that much for himself anyway. Loona, on the other hand, was definitely going to steal that belt off him. She wouldn't have to do it up by so many holes on her hips, at least. The leather jacket with the spikes on the shoulders had come with them, of course, but it was already too warm in there for too much clothing, which was usually the way that most liked it.

Blitz whooped and she winced, thankfully, however briefly, that the music drowned him out. He was just like all the other losers there, at least to outside eyes. No one would know they were related by adoption, only on paper, which was better than the Hellhound could hope for in most other instances. But she wouldn't have to deal with him for all that much longer if she had her way about it, casting her eyes about, phone in hand, for Octavia.

Loona: Where r u? Got Blitz here, dude being soooo fuckin embarrassing, I can't even.

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Octavia: Dad's doing a portal outside now. Did you drive?

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Loona: Yeah, Blitz did. C u soon.

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Well, she hoped her dad was going to stop moping around and whistling off-key, his pretence at "everything is fine, just fine, yes, Lonnie-Toonie-sweetie-honey-pie" - ugh. Loona shuddered bodily, eyes flicking between her phone and the stage. The band was cool, to be fair, but she would have had more fun there if she had some of the hounds, she was sure... Not that she had really bonded with any of them, just casual friends. Loona's lips pressed a little more tightly together, a muscle jumping in the corner of her jaw. She wasn't the sort of person to say how much she wanted to talk to someone, at least not aloud. But it got lonely sometimes, as much as she battled with herself that she shouldn't be hanging around with a fucking "blue blood". Was that even an insult anymore?

In short, for her, it was fucked up and that was something that even the Hellhound's confused mind, torn between wanting to "sort of" help her father out and "sort of" make sure that she had a fucking good night out, amongst all the other shit that was going on for her. Growing up in the orphanage didn't exactly help there, though it wasn't something she thought about. It just sort of lingered, churning a hair's breadth under the surface of her façade, dictating her daily life, one way or another. Loona just didn't acknowledge it.

But she had gotten to know the owl a little more, even though a few hours had passed between then, taking photos of her outfit to send over to Octavia, who said she could call her "Via", but Loona wasn't going to do that, because that was, like, way too fucking familiar for her. Octavia had promised use of her credit card, or maybe her father's, more accurately, however, which sweetened the deal a bit further. It wasn't as if the owl that Blitz was head over heels for would even notice the charges on it, regardless of how much she drank.

But anyway. It was, like, okay to be out with someone else and doing it behind Blitz' back too was really the kicker for her, the bit that swayed her. There was little that pushed her far enough to try to do something and it was interesting enough that she wanted to follow through.

What was that bird's deal anyway? The one with the book... She'd taken enough calls from him from the front desk of IMP, but she didn't know anything about him. Normally a Hellhound could tell all that they needed to from the scent of a demon, or a Sinner for that matter, but that just wasn't possible over the phone. The reek of him mixed with Blitz' scent didn't give her the information that she needed.

She shook it off, her eyes on Blitz, the dweeb jumping and fist-pumping, though it really wasn't the sort of gig that acting like a fool was tolerated at. Sighing, Loona rolled her eyes.

"I'm getting a drink."

Blitz' head snapped around, following his daughter easily enough through the crowd. He'd never quite be sure whether it was his assassin's training or his circus training that allowed him to slip through unnoticed, without touching a single soul, but it was just as well for him. Loona moved quickly, parting the crowd with a purpose, even though there was only one bar there. That, at least, made it easier for him to tail her.

It was good to be out, at least, he thought, sliding the cash (far too much, really) across the bar to the tall imp who looked like they would have rather been anywhere but there. Loona hadn't gone out with him in ages and bowling had been a dead loss last time he'd tried to find something else with her. Music and drinking though when it was all to her taste? That was something that would easily get her on his good side, or as good a side as Blitz was going to get from his adopted daughter.

A twist of guilt pulled at the pit of his stomach as his gaze roamed the bar, keeping one eye on Loona, even though she most certainly could take care of herself. He'd taught her more than well enough, after all, even if she preferred teeth and claws to traditional weapons. His pistol was holstered at his hip, the holster an attachment to his belt that strapped on and around his upper thigh. If he'd been with someone other than his daughter, he might have made a sex joke about it, strapping it on and all that, but the words died on the tip of his tongue as she settled back at the bar to listen to the music, eyes half-lidded.

Loona was fine...but Blitz almost didn't like that he'd used her to get into the venue just like he'd used Stolas. Sure, he could have come on his own - but how lame would that have been? It would have been so fucking obvious that he was doing it to put himself in the same room as Stolas, especially since there was still no fucking answer to his calls or texts. Seriously, what in Satan's name was up with that?

He didn't want to think about that though. It wasn't like Stolas, though the owl was alive, he knew that much. Obviously, if Octavia was still posting on Voxtagram about going to the gig she was still going and it was telling that she hadn't tagged anyone that she was going with. It was also weird that Stolas didn't seem to be on Voxtagram at all either, replying to her posts, but he didn't want to worry too much about that. Likely enough, he'd have plenty enough to worry about once the night was done.

He knew Stolas was fine. Though he hadn't quite had the courage to go himself, wanting to keep his perhaps not quite genius plan in place, he had sent Millie there to scope out the palace. Stolas had been gardening. Millie had said that he'd looked sad. And that the prince needed to really up his security. That was the next thing that Blitz wanted to get on at him about, especially with Striker still on the loose... Sometimes, Stolas could lean far too heavily on his powers, forgetting that the element of surprise could catch him before he'd even had the chance to reach for any spell.

The music, hm... Not his taste. But it helped drown out the swirling anxiety within his stomach, the throb of it pulsing through him with every aching beat of his heart. It could overwhelm sometimes, perhaps more often than he wanted to admit, but being out... It would have helped anyway.

But, that time, he was out for a damn reason and he wasn't about to miss his chance.

Outside the bar, Octavia sighed as she stepped through the portal. She'd been considering backing out of going to the gig, trying to make it something lower key if her father had to come along, before meeting Loona at the barn, but that had scuppered that. Still, even she had to admit that it was pretty fucking embarrassing to have her dad there. Who, at her age, even went to a thing like that with their father? Let alone in Hell?

Kill me now...

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"Ah! It appears that we have arrived, Octavia!"

Stolas smiled, a little too widely, trying to put thoughts of what was happening elsewhere, who hadn't been in touch, from his mind. He tugged uncomfortably at the hem of his jacket, though it was not as bad as what he could have imagined being dressed up in and by no means anywhere near as dreadful as some of the outfits, practically costumes, that Stella had insisted that he wore before. No, anything would be better than that and to be out somewhere with his Starfire, the light of his life, at least made the evening more than bearable.

The screaming, pounding, wailing music that she liked to listen to, however, was going to take a little getting used to, the owl wincing as they entered the pub that had been turned into a club for the night, a stage set up at the back. With the size of the speakers and sound system they had there, the music had blasted out into the street, though he had not appreciated just how abrasive it was.

"Oh... Oh no."

Flinching, Stolas muttered, faking a quick smile as he cast an even quicker spell, just to take the music down, in his own ears, to a more manageable level. That, at least, quelled the assault on his eardrums, though he wasn't so sure that he would have liked that sort of music anyway even if he had been a teenager himself. For Octavia, however, he would readily manage it with a smile on his face.

It was strange to be so close to others, but the level of the music made it so talking wasn't all that amenable and she seemed to be having a good time, glancing at her phone before tucking it away, bobbing her head a little. Someone had told him a short time back that it was called "vibing." Stolas still wasn't quite sure what that meant, but he thought it was a good thing. As long as his Starfire was enjoying herself.

"Dad, I gotta use the bathroom," she shouted, pointing roughly in the direction of which he assumed the facilities were. "I'll be quick."

Stolas didn't know, not at that point, that she had absolutely no intention whatsoever of being quick, not as she hustled off and he awkwardly shifted through the crowd to the bar. Much like Blitz had been, back when they'd first met, they didn't seem to care that he was a prince, or maybe they didn't recognise him so easily in the dim half-light of the gig, lights flashing on and off his beak as if they could not bear to illuminate him in varying shades for any span of time more than a fraction of a second.

Of course, there was no menu that he could peruse, trying to work out if there was anything at all that he could drink to take the edge off a little bit. Stolas knew that much that it wasn't the sort of place at all where a glass of wine would have at all been acceptable, but he wasn't in the mood for something, before, that Blitz had called a "pint" either. He still recalled the bitterness of the hops in the back of his throat, how he had screwed up his face, how Blitzy had laughed at him - and downed his beer anyway so that Stolas didn't have to drink it.

The owl smiled, however tightly it came. As much as it wrenched at his heart, it was still a good memory, a memory he would hold close, regardless of how things would go. Though he'd been doing too much thinking, too much over how he had treated the imp, what the nature of their relationship had been.

Even if he was not ready to talk to Blitz yet, to get the words out of his beak, he knew what he was going to do. It was quite simple really, the first steps, even if they made his heart pound and his palms sweat, feathers sticking up in odd directions when he thought about putting the idea into action. Of course, the imps could keep the book for their business. He really had no need of it personally and didn't want to see Blitz' business fail, though there was the potential to teach his daughter the spell to go into the living world too, over time, even if she had to use an object to hold his magic. That would make sure that Blitz didn't feel any ties to him which meant that their relationship, well...would be transactional.

The full moon agreement? His heart ached. It was the right thing to do: the full moon agreement would be no more. He would no longer trade sex for the book and no more would the tie be made. If it was to be a business transaction, well, one could consider it investing in a start-up business or something of that matter, though it was hardly as if the business was all that much of a start-up anymore. They'd gotten off the ground long ago, but Stolas wanted to keep seeing them go from strength to strength, even if it most likely had to be from a distance.

After that, well... He didn't know what Blitz would want to do. What it would be, however, would be down to the imp, who had not had a say in much, besides their limits and rules in the bedroom, since the whole debacle had begun. It was about time that changed, even if the result was for Blitz to ignore him, forget him.

Stolas swallowed hard, the bar swaying before him, the imp bartender, a tall chap with a surly expression, glancing his way. It would be hard, his mind already running amok with all the things that could happen, but it would happen whether he had a hand in it or not. That was the whole point of giving up control, something that he had been so good at in the bedroom but not when control was afforded to him in life. That was probably partly Stella's doing, though it was only Stolas, only the owl himself, who could dig himself out of that.

No... He knew what to do, how he was going to do it. It was only getting up the courage that would take the time. Getting his phone back the next day, however, might give him the push he needed, or it could just be another anxiety-inducing object in his home for him to avoid. One or the other.

He'd do it when he found the courage.

Blitz, however, had no intention of giving Stolas that time.

"They let just about anyone in these days, huh?"