《The Struggles of Dating a Demon [Completed]》Friends in Low Places

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"Are other cities just as bad as this one, or are we special?" Mabel asked later that night, eyes on Aleron as he handed her a bowl of her favorite ice cream.

He settled into the couch next to her, curling an arm around her shoulders protectively. "Unfortunately, it is not this city alone. It is only concentrated here, as the door to Hell resides in your rural lands. Nevertheless, there is something amiss in Hell, and if it is not solved soon . . . I fear the consequences." He didn't elaborate, watching her warily instead, as if concerned she would start to cry again.

When he'd popped into Herman's office earlier, snarling and swinging his sword as he looked for an enemy, she'd had to explain to him (through light sobs) that she was fine, but emotionally unstable.

Which made him take her home and calm her down with a bubble bath and ice cream.

"And what about the weather?" she continued to prod, licking her spoon with a content hum.

He used his free hand to stroke soothing circles into her thigh, his eyes looking out her apartment window and into the starless night as if he could still see the dark clouds there (perhaps he could).

"I sensed no cruel intent, but I am unsure as to why it has chosen now to appear."

Mabel shifted until they were looking at one another clearly. "You say 'it' like you're talking about a person." The question went unasked, but Aleron understood.

"That is what worries me."

He remained stubbornly vague about the subject, only telling her not to worry. That, of course, only made Mabel worry more, but she did her best to stay silent.

If Aleron needed to tell her, he would. At least, she hoped he would.

***

The next day, Mabel was beginning to doubt her own thoughts.

Would Aleron tell her?

The clouds had only darkened further, and it started hailing around lunchtime. Paired with an absent Aleron, and Mabel felt an all-too familiar rock of anxiety form in her stomach. Whatever was going on, it couldn't be good.

No sooner had the thought crossed her mind did the power go out.

Fingers tightening around the edge of the store's front counter, Mabel began to chew her lower lip.

"Okay," she murmured, eyes struggling to adjust to the sudden darkness. Even with the many windows, the outside was growing darker by the second, which did nothing to help her. Fumbling for her cellphone, she cursed when her hand hit the object, knocking it to the ground and out of reach.

There was nothing to be done about that and Mabel blew out a frustrated sigh, resolving to find the candles and flashlights by hand.

No sooner had she fumbled her way to the backroom's doorknob did she notice another presence. It was too dark to make out much, but Mabel's instincts were screaming at her in such a way that she knew someone was there, and she knew it wasn't Aleron.

After being dragged to Hell and tortured, Mabel was feeling especially brave. "If you're going to murder, kidnap, or threaten me, could you at least wait until I find a flashlight or something?"

A pause, and then the room lit up, candles stacked on every surface; however, Mabel was more concerned with who, or what, she was looking at.

It was a woman, of a sort—her top half was a woman, anyway. The rest of her body was more serpent-like, with a long tail and scaly wings keeping her afloat above the floor.

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Mabel blinked three times, blew air through her lips noisily, then demanded, "Um, who the heck are you, and why are you here?"

The serpent-woman's blood red lips curled into a serene smile. "My name is Nephele." She greeted smoothly, brushing a strand of raven hair behind her ear.

"Nephele?" Mabel's brows furrowed in confusion, the name striking up a sense of nostalgia. "Like the nymph from Greek mythology?"

Nephele's grin brightened, and her entire aura seemed to shift from 'standoffish mythical creature' to 'extremely excited woman'. "You know of her? How pleasant! I am not her, of course, but the name seemed appropriate."

Racking her brain for long-forgotten tales she'd read in her teenage years, Mabel finally remembered what exactly "Nephele" had been responsible for in mythology. "So, this weather has something to do with you, then, right?"

Nodding her head once, Nephele drifted closer, reaching a hand out and tracing Mabel's face with nails sharp enough to seriously damage someone, if needed. "Very bright indeed. I can see the attraction; yes, this weather is my fault. I don't do it on purpose, really, rather, it just . . . follows me around, you could say. If I wanted to, of course, I could demolish this entire city, but that's for another day." She said it casually, as if speaking about stopping by the grocery store, as opposed to the destruction of a city.

Mabel swallowed uneasily, hoping she looked calmer than she felt. "Hopefully I'll be out of town when that happens."

Nephele hummed in her throat with amusement, eyeing Mabel appreciatively. "Yes, that would be ideal. Is Aleron nearby?"

Truly stunned, Mabel reeled back as she realized a shocking fact. "Wait a second! You're not here to kidnap me? Or maim me? Or just harm me in general?"

This time Nephele managed to chuckle, a light sound that had an underlying layer of deep notes, like a summer rainstorm highlighted with thunder. "No, no, that won't be necessary. I am here to see Aleron, and I heard a little rumor that he was infatuated with a mortal girl. Figured I would stop by and see for myself. I have to say, I like you—for a mortal, you're tough, and smart."

"Um," Mabel licked her lips, inwardly pleased that she did indeed look tougher than she felt, "Thanks, I guess? Aleron's not here, though. I actually don't know where he is, and he's not responding . . ." Of course, she'd only called his name about three times, but he normally showed up after the first. She could only hope he was alright.

Nephele considered Mabel's words for a long moment, head cocked to the side. "Hm. Well, there is, of course, another method of contact that will pull him to you immediately, whether he wanted to come or not. Would you mind if we tried that?"

Mabel took an unconscious step backwards. "I've written his name once in my blood, and I'd prefer not to do it again, actually, so if you don't mind . . ." she trailed off when she saw the mischievous smirk plastered on Nephele's face. "What?"

"He didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?" Mabel grew defensive, crossing her arms over her chest.

What's she going on about?

The almost maniacal glee in Nephele's eyes worried Mabel. "There is a special summoning technique, only ever used in dire situations, that allows the two connected to be reunited regardless of location or circumstance, Hell included.

"Instead of having to call for Aleron, if you are ever in true danger, he will automatically appear next to you. It's a complex spell, and has to be granted by Death. Of course, Aleron probably had no problem getting his permission." Nephele chuckled huskily at her own joke, before pausing and grinning even wider when she noticed the dumbfounded expression pasted on Mabel's features.

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"I think your relationship needs better communication." The serpent-woman suggested with a wink.

"I think your presence here is unnecessary." Aleron stated gruffly from behind Mabel, causing her to squeal with fright and jump sideways. She would have slammed into the wall, if not for Aleron's quick reflexes.

He caught her around the waist, pulling her into his side and stroking his fingers through her hair in greeting. "I apologize, Little One. I did not mean to startle you." He twisted his head, eyes hardening when they landed on Nephele. "You, however, are not meant to be here. Explain yourself, Nephele."

The serpent-woman was eyeing them as though they were a pair of adorable puppies. "You two are precious together." She practically cooed, sounding every bit like a mother whose child was going to prom.

"Nephele . . ." Aleron ground out in warning, his grip tightening against Mabel.

"Alright, alright." Nephele huffed, lips forming a slight pout. "I just can't have any fun, can I?" her expression changed abruptly, going from playful to grim in a second. "It's important, Aleron, and I don't think your human should be present."

A low growl seeped from Aleron's chest as he no doubt went to protest, but Mabel was quick to soothe him. Besides, knowing Aleron, he'd probably want to protect her from the problem anyway—he just didn't like it when others tried to do his job for him, or ordered Mabel around. "It's okay, Al. I've got to go see if I can find those flashlights, anyway. I'll just be in the backroom." Mabel told him, stretching to press a kiss against his scruffy cheek.

She stepped away, feeling his eyes on her as she snatched up one of the many candles that had appeared and treaded carefully to the door. Holding the candle outstretched in the otherwise dark and candle-less backroom, she closed the door behind her, but didn't move from it.

Aleron had been keeping her in the dark about many things, but she knew it was only because he didn't want her involved in the turmoil from his world. That didn't mean her curiosity went silent, though, and—with a pile of guilt forming in her stomach—she stayed near the door, listening intently through the wood.

"You know why I'm here," came Nephele's voice, filled with a sort of resigned foreboding.

A whoosh of air told her Aleron was sighing. "I feared I would be visited soon. What news have you brought about the Door?"

"It's open. That brother of yours wasn't alone—looks like we have a full-blown uprising on our hands; the devil's been incapacitated too, and we're not sure what they've done with him."

A string of furious curses came from Aleron, followed by several beats of silence. "Death?" he asked finally, his tone implying that the news he expected to receive would not be good.

Nephele's words only confirmed that. "Dying quicker than we expected. Aleron," her voice reminiscent of a teacher trying to gently advise a student against making a terrible decision, "We all knew he wouldn't last. Only a true heir can take up the mantle of death, and he isn't that. You must come back, Aleron. Your human will be safe until you return, but she cannot be your first priority; you have put this off long enough."

Utter silence, save for the heavy breaths that came from a (no doubt) rage-filled Aleron. Mabel winced when she heard glass shattering, wondering what he'd broken and how much it would cost to replace. "You did not see her!" Aleron snapped, "I cannot leave her unprotected."

Nephele's tone remained steady. "Aleron, she will be safe. Do not think I did not sense the mark on her back. If that is not enough, take comfort in the fact that both I and my sisters will remain nearby to protect her."

Stifling a gasp, Mabel's eyes widened when the pieces clicked into place. The summoning Nephele had mentioned earlier was no doubt this 'mark,' and something in Mabel knew exactly where that mark resided on her body. After all, what else could be making her back itch?

She rolled her eyes. If Aleron was trying to keep her safe, wouldn't he mention something as important as a mark on her back? What if she had gone out with a shirt that didn't cover it? She didn't even know what it looked like; it could have been the picture of a cartoon demon holding a sword, or something worse.

But she couldn't think about that right now. The other side of the door was entirely silent, and Mabel had the brief thought that perhaps the two other-worldly beings had vanished.

Then: "Fine." Aleron rumbled, "But you will watch over her, yes? Do not let her out of your sight—she attracts trouble."

Mabel didn't know Nephele very well, but she had the distinct feeling that the serpent woman was rolling her eyes. "Yes, Aleron. Again, you marked her. What more can I really do?"

"Ensure that my mark will never be necessary," Aleron responded without pause, voice commanding.

"Of course, of course; are we done here, now?"

"I will return to Hell by tomorrow." Aleron said in dismissal.

A rush of wary air left Nephele's lips. "Aleron . . ."

"No," he barked, his tone leaving no room for discussion. "Tomorrow. I will not go earlier – do not test me on this, Nephele."

"Fine. Tomorrow. Tell your dear Mabel that I will be seeing her soon, won't you?" Aleron didn't respond, and Mabel heard Nephele chuckle, before the sound stopped abruptly.

Mabel's attention snapped to the window, where the sun was coming out from behind the clouds, and the darkness disappeared just as quickly as it had come (as did the candle clutched in her hands).

Nephele was gone.

The lights came back on, and Mabel startled at the sudden brightness, scrambling away from the door when it swung open.

Aleron eyed her with one brow raised. "My Little One, I fear you are not very good at sneaking." The corner of his mouth quirked upwards, letting her know he wasn't mad.

The embarrassment at being caught rushed away, leaving a pout on Mabel's face. "I am too! And that's not the point, Al," her voice softened. "What's going on?"

At her question, his expression turned haggard, and he looked as though he'd aged by thousands of years in a matter of seconds. "Hell has been hit by chaotic times, Mabel. The turmoil is like never before, and I fear the outcome." An ambiguous answer, but better than nothing. Instead of pressing the issue, Mabel stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his head down to her shoulder. She couldn't help him fight whatever enemy awaited, but she could at least help relax him.

Besides, she could always speak with Nephele later to get details.

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