4 | The Fox and the Hounds

12:55 am

Chicago, IL

December 10, 1978

Danka's hands had been swift when he stitched the wound close, dabbing it with a special concoction that he promised would rid his injury of the essence of angel that Azzozas had left behind. The gauze was wrapped tightly around his arm, tight enough for compression but not to cause further pain. He could admit, albeit begrudgingly, that Danka was indeed a skilled doctor. He supposed one had to be in a gang filled with immortal demons who didn't know what "Do not do shit that can get you mortally wounded" meant.

He was still hung up on the fact he'd unknowingly joined (had been forced to join) a gang. Though, he couldn't figure out why it surprised him so much, they were demons for Satan's sake. Danka being in the gang, however, slightly confused him. Something about the doctor didn't seem to really fit in with a gang setting.

"Why did you join the gang?"

Danka, who'd been restocking the cabinets with gauze and antiseptic wipes, paused in his ministrations. He turned to Venuch, a weird look in those oddly colored eyes of his. "What?"

Venuch repeated his question. "You don't seem like the type to be a gangster. You're too white-collar for things like this, at least to me."

The silence that followed made him feel like he'd stepped out of line. He eyed the silent man quietly, noting how the hairs on the back of his head seemed to be start standing on edge. The atmosphere felt like a bomb had been set between the two of them, waiting to go off at any moment. Danka walked (it felt like he was stalking toward Venuch, sizing him up) toward him. The doctor may have been smaller than he was, but his presence was much more commanding and formidable.

"I'd advise you not question me on matters such as this," Danka said. "Fortunately for you, I do not needlessly threaten to kill those that say things I don't like to me like Azzozas. For future reference, however, do not bring that question up to me ever again."

Venuch's nose wrinkled in distaste. "Please do tell me not all of the demons in this gang are like you and him."

The corners of Danka's lip quirked upward as if he'd found Venuch's words funny. He returned to the cabinets and continued restocking the antiseptic wipes and gauze. "Leadership requires a certain…hardiness in some situations. We all have our differences."

How cryptic.

Venuch sighed and didn't say anything else.

Danka checked the time on his watching, humming in thought. "It's one fifteen in the morning. I need rest so I can properly function as a human being—"

"Since when were you human?"

The doctor ignored Venuch. "—and you need to be ready to keep an eye on our rampant angel-demon."

"What's the point in doing it if I can't stop him?"

Danka grabbed his winter coat, throwing it back over his shoulders and throwing away his latex gloves. "We'll discuss that at eleven o'clock. Get some rest…you'll need it," the man said darkly.

▬

11:00 am

Azzozas's Gang Meeting Room

Chicago, IL

The pain his arm felt as if it had been torn off and resown on terribly. When he awoke at nine, he had to stay in bed for an hour and a half simply curled up in a ball and clenching his teeth at the burning sensation in his wounded limb. Danka had prescribed him something called lidocaine to take everyday until he stopped having the pain. He sighed wearily as he entered the Meeting room again. It was silent as ever and Danka was off in the corner with his medical supplies, mumbling something to himself as he refilled a bottle. The silver haired man didn't seem to notice Venuch was in the room yet, so he took the chance to really explore.

Mahogany bookshelves stood solemn and imposing, filled to the brim with a random assortment of books. Many of the books seemed related to magic, both Demonic and Angelic. They weren't dusty so they were undoubtedly well cared for. "Banelloz will have your neck if you damage one of those," Danka said offhandedly, "And so will Azzozas considering his money bought them."

Venuch put back the book about Angelic spells he'd been checking out almost immediately. He'd question who Banelloz was later. "Azzozas bought these?"

"Yes. They were bought with the purpose of giving those who didn't get a chance at education an opportunity to do so," Danka explained, motioning for Venuch to sit at the table with him. "Banelloz is one of the demons who do the teaching, and she's also the librarian. Hurting those books is like hurting her directly."

The chairs were plush and seemed to almost embrace Venuch's back. He wondered how many demons were in this gang. Though this room was twice the size of Danka's already somewhat spacious room, how could one keep track of even five demons in one area without having the room be destroyed? Especially if there were more than one Wrath demon besides Danka. For what it's worth though, Danka wasn't exactly the most vengeful wrath demon he's encountered. Hell, Azzozas seemed angrier than he was and Azzozas was a snake demon!

Then again, perhaps rules were different for Angel-blood demons? Nobody really knew aside from those demons themselves because True Demons wanted nothing to do with them. Venuch wasn't completely sure how he felt about the Angel-bloods. "Banelloz and the library aside," Danka pulled something from his coat pocket and sat it on the table, "As you know, Angels' weaknesses are few and far between so we must resort to something drastic. This is the essence of a Dominion's weapon."

The object was rectangular and wrapped in a blue silk cloth and there was an immense level of celestial energy coming from it. Venuch eyed it warily, wondering why it felt much more dangerous than a normal Dominion weapon. How had the Doctor come by such a thing? "As the only one with centuries of medical knowledge in this satanforsaken gang, I have become accustomed to catering to everyone's specific needs. This is one of the few things that can weaken Azzozas."

Venuch picked up the box, carefully unravelling the cloth Danka had secured around it. "And…this will really work?" He questioned, looking at the silent silver box in his hands. Just what was "essence of a Dominion weapon?"

"Of course. Azzozas himself told me it would," Danka said, taking the box back from Venuch and rewrapping it. "He's one of the few ex-Power angels in Hell that still have access to their angelic powers when they are under stress. Most lost said abilities when they lost their connection to Heaven. I cannot stress this enough; be extremely careful with this."

He handed the rewrapped box back to Venuch. "Do not use this unless he attempts attacking you again. If it backfires, you will be killed by the strength of it. Understood?" The doctor peered over his gold rimmed glasses at the taller man. His eyes seemed to be searching for something in Venuch's.

The severity of the situation pressed in on Venuch once more. A single mistake could lead to death whether it be by the essence or by Azzozas himself. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't afraid of dying. "Yes, I understand."

"Good. I'd hate to have to use my embalming knowledge so soon after you joined the gang." The silver-haired man looked like he found his own words funny. He chuckled lightly when Venuch gave him the stink eye and scowled. The blond was starting to think the man was a sadist of some sort and enjoyed his plight. He probably was. Men like Danka seemed to always have a sadist streak. That and something about the look in his eyes.

Always the eyes.

Venuch tucked the essence in his pocket. "I feel like you want to see me dead or dying."

Danka's eyes glittered. "What gave you that impression?"

He rolled his eyes and stood.

"Kiss my ass, you glorified mouse."

▬

12:21 pm

Outside of a coffee shop

Venuch sipped at his steaming coffee. He had no idea when and where to start looking for Azzozas. It was obvious to him that Azzozas didn't want to be found but Danka was set on finding the man regardless. The box he'd been given sat heavy in his pocket. The repulsive smell of angel's essence burned his nose, but he couldn't do much about it. Well, not if he wanted to die. He wondered what even brought on Azzozas's behavior anyway. Azzozas may not have been totally within his own body, but this seemed out of character even for him. Maybe he'd start with—

A large hand grabbed him by the back of his jacket and a second one covered his mouth before he could scream. The hands dragged him into the dank alley beside the shop. His back roughly met the sturdy brick of the coffee shop's wall. He didn't get a chance to say anything before the person was speaking.

"Why do you keep searching for me?" Azzozas's voice was rough and painfully hoarse. The scratchiness of it made Venuch cringe internally.

He spoke slowly, as if moving too fast would set the bigger demon off. "Because I am getting paid to do so."

Azzozas sneered. "Stop. Following. Me."

He could sense the man was getting worked up again. One of Azzozas's eyes was blue and he still looked as frazzled as he had in the forest. He looked more akin to an angel than a demon now and small scratches littered his face, some still fresh and red. "I'm afraid I can't do that," Venuch said. Azzozas's hand tightened in his clothes and sent his heartbeat skyrocketing. "If you die, I don't get paid."

"Is all you care about money?"

Venuch retorted, "Well of course, I have to survive, no?"

The taller man couldn't argue that and let go of Venuch. He could finally breathe now that his feet were back on the ground. Azzozas turned away from him, running anxious hands through ratty white hair. It was clear he hadn't been taking care of himself very well.

"So, what's the whole deal with this…angelic appearance thing you have going on?" He questioned, eyeing the tall man.

Azzozas's shoulders tensed. He ignored the question. "Just don't follow me. Tell Danka I am fine without his interference."

With that the man disappeared into the shadows.

Venuch gave the shadows a distasteful look and threw his hands up defeat. Great, now if he continued following him, Azzozas may kill him for that. He patted his pocket to make sure the snake hadn't stolen the Dominion's essence. The box still laid tucked away in his overcoat pocket but Venuch couldn't help but feel like he was forgetting something important. Then he looked down and saw the rather expensive coffee he'd been drinking lying on its side, splattered across the ground.

He stared in horror at his wasted money lying on the ground. "Satandammit, Azzozas! That was expensive!" He sighed, exasperated at his luck. He picked up the cup and threw it in the trash. This situation had gotten annoying rather fast.

▬

Danka had told him he'd be watching over Azzozas for a maximum of two weeks straight, so he decided to continue his usual work schedule while monitoring Busse Woods as well as the churches within the area. The doctor had made a good point about Venuch being unable to sense demonic energy, he'd realized it when he'd attempted to probe the are for Azzozas. All he got was the isolating sense of nothing. Venuch frowned at his suitcase, packing his work papers within it. He closed his eyes and tried again.

Nothing.

All he got was a headache. He hadn't been able to sense demonic auras since…he closed his suitcase, his fingers brushing against the scar on the side of his head. It was hidden beneath his hair, and he'd always kept his hair long since he received it. He knew he'd never be able to sense a demon again. That truth had been a hard pill to swallow when he had recovered from the injury. He had a child to love and care for, but how could he protect them if he could not sense danger?

All demons had the ability to sense one another; Some had stronger aura sensing abilities than others and some had weaker ones. It was something they'd evolved to be able to sense each other in battle. If you were born without the sense or even lost it through a traumatic injury, you were essentially fighting blind. If any demon more powerful than he found out he couldn't sense them, he didn't doubt they'd take advantage of it. He forced himself to stop thinking about it.

When he got to work, he felt significantly less talkative than usual. The eye-bags beneath his eyes contrasted against his skin harshly and his body felt heavier than normal. He debated telling Danka he would not be able to go through with the mission.

He settled at his desk and breathed a sigh, set his suitcase on the surface, and got comfortable.

"Mr. Szalay would like to see you, Mr. Kristiansen."

Venuch's eyes burned into the poor office aide, and he seemed to slightly shrink in on himself as Venuch glared him down.

A strained smile—it looked more akin to a sneer—stretched across his face. "Tell him I'll be there shortly."

The man nodded and left. Venuch would dare say he seemed to be doing his best not to run. He ran hand through his hair and tried to calm his fraying nerves. His life had been nothing but complete chaos since Azzozas came back and it made him want to throttle the prick. He didn't even get the chance to relax.

He hoped Danka felt the weight of his glare when he entered his office.

The doctor's eyebrows rose. "You look like you rolled out of bed with the intent of dying."

"What did you need?" Venuch asked exasperated.

Danka pushed up his glasses—if Venuch's rudeness had bothered him he didn't say anything. "You're going to be meeting the gang soon since you mentioned to annoy Azzozas with your presence enough for him to come back," He said, looking down at his papers again and writing something.

"…You knew this would happen didn't you?"

The man didn't look away from his papers, continuing to write. "Oh, of course, I did. I wouldn't have sent you after him if I didn't think your presence would help."

Manipulative little—Venuch stared at the smaller man.

"Be here this Tuesday at six in the afternoon sharp," Danka said, carefully folding something and sticking it in the pocket on his shirt. "I am hoping Azzozas will be in his right mind so we can get back to business. While I do enjoy having some semblance of orderliness, there's only so much one demon can do to keep a gang ten big in check."

Ten demons?

Danka walked past Venuch and pat his arm. "No need to worry, I'm sure you'll fit right in."

This had to be some sort of cruel joke.

▬

Tuesday

December 12th, 1978

The Gang Meeting Room

Venuch vehemently prayed the room wouldn't be as insane as he felt it would. He was not built for being stressed so much at such a late—at least to him—time. Grateful though he was for Danka giving him the week off since Azzozas was still very much on his two week break, he didn't want to go to a mandatory meeting. He'd received the sword Danka had promised him so he was somewhat happier. However, his mind was still stuck on Azzozas and the fiasco with him nearly taking down a forest reserve.

He knew for a fact that Zaphkiel and Azzozas were one in the same, and he also knew Angel-blood demon's forms were somewhat unstable because of the opposing biology within them. He's never seen an Angel-blood's form get as unstable as Azzozas's had in the forest. He couldn't get it out of his mind; The sight of two opposing beings being forcibly brought together but sin would stay with him forever.

Had it been painful?

Thoughts continued swirling in his head as he entered the office building. The area's tranquility had been preserved by the fact only a handful of employees were within it. He gave a polite nod to one of the women—her name was Amy—who were brewing coffee in the break room. They were his favorite coworkers along with Ray.

Venuch's exhaustion had come along with him as well. He knew he looked dead on his feet; he's barely had any true rest. Eyeing the time on his watch, he rubbed his eyes as he entered the meeting room.

"Oh Satan, look out

—"

A pie landed squarely on his face.

He stood there silently, the once rowdy room quieting immediately.

"Great, now look what you did!"

A different voice snapped back, "That wasn't even me! I couldn't even throw air if it meant saving my life!"

A hand gently grabbed his shoulder leading him to…somewhere. He wiped at the whipped cream that covered his face, sighing heavily. The same hand from early—now holding a towel—wiped away at the whipped cream that covered his face. "I apologize for their behavior, many of the demons here are only in their eighties and nineties," a soft voice apologized. "My name is Banelloz, but the gang also calls me Bookswain. You are Venuch, yes?"

Once the last of the whipped cream was gone, he was free to see who he was speaking to. A dark-skinned demon stood across from him. Her afro was long enough to obscure her eyes from his sight (the tips of it seemed to fade into a sort of purple color), she had broad shoulders—a clear sign of strength—and she stood much taller than Venuch did. If he had to guess, she was no doubt around the same height as Azzozas. Banelloz threw the towel in what appeared to be a dirty clothes basket and then held her hand out for him to shake. "It's a pleasure to be acquainted with you," he said, shaking her hand. She truly was beautiful.

She gave him a strained smile. "It would more a pleasure if Kostren hadn't greeted you with a pie to the face. Welcome to the gang."

"It truly was a warm welcome"—he combed a clump of whipped cream out of his hair— "I can tell I'm in for a ride here."

Banelloz hummed, a grave tone to her voice. "Yes, especially considering what we're here for."

Venuch's eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"I see…Lionsmane did not tell you. As per usual with his cryptic ways. We best leave before they start. Lionsmane is rather punctual about the meeting times."

Venuch followed her out of what appeared to be a bathroom and back into the meeting room. Nine new faces burned their eyes into his very skin as he walked alongside her. Danka was off in the corner with Azzozas who appeared to be agitated if the man's expression was accurate. That being said, Azzozas looked agitated every time Venuch had seen him. Banelloz instructed Venuch to sit at the very top of the table at the right. She didn't mention a reasoning behind telling him to sit there and gave no sign she'd seen his questioning look.

"So…you're the fresh meat, huh?" drawled a voice with an accent that could only be described as one from New York. Venuch turned to look at whoever had addressed him. A man with blue hair and eyes and darker skin eyed Venuch with a look that made him think he was being assessed in some way.

The man had a cat-like grin across his face as he leaned on his hand and eyed the blond. "Yes, I suppose I am," Venuch said, turning right around to look at all the decorations that were dotted around the room.

An annoyed huff came from the blue haired man. "Didn't ya momma tell ya it's rude to turn away from someone speak ta ya?" growled the man.

Unamused by the threatening tone in his voice, Venuch turned to him. "My mother died before I was even walking."

The man was silent before an annoyed sigh left him. "The name's Panthera, Goldilocks, least ya could do is introduce yourself."

"My name's Venuch," he said, side eying Panthera. This man had already managed to annoy him. He could still feel the demon's stare burning into the side of his head. He supposed it was because of his clipped tone. Panthera didn't seem like he was going to say anything else, so Venuch didn't bother paying much attention to him anymore. The air in the room seemed to get heavier once more and more of the gang members settled at the table. This was certainly a diverse group, two of them looked exactly alike and it made him wonder if they were possibly twins.

He continued to stay silent as the various gang member spoke to one another and laughed. Banelloz was off to the side, organizing her beloved books. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Danka seemed to almost appear behind him. "Do you still have the essence?" The silver haired man questioned, words low so that nobody could hear him. It wasn't like Marach was listening anyway.

"Yes, but it's at my house. I didn't even have to use it…"

Danka hummed. "Alright. Keep it."

"What—why?"

He only turned and walked away, sitting in the chair across from him. He found he did not like having to look into Danka's eyes. They seemed to not be his own.

Azzozas took a seat in the chair at the top of the table, which was arguably the biggest to accommodate his height. "Are ya going to tell us why this was such an important meeting?" questioned Panthera, impatient.

"You made it seem urgent but it this seems like any other meeting," a demon who seemed yawned out. "I want to go back to sleep…"

Azzozas said nothing for a moment. "Have any of you recognized an influx of angelic activity within a six-mile radius of Chicago?"

Banelloz spoke, "Yes and I do believe it's of Archangel type."

Murmurs went up around the table of everyone discussing any type of energy they'd been sensing. Venuch looked at Danka who had yet to say much. He hadn't had a clue that angels had been coming to Chicago, but that was to be expected considering his…condition.

"I am being hunted down by Heaven."

Venuch had never seen so many jaws drop so quickly.