nobody gave me a f*cking instruction manual

 It started with a proximity alert.

 After eighteen months of isolation, someone had found them. Friend or foe, Maddie wasn’t sure it would make much of a difference.

 Venable had sent them all away as she went to deal with whoever had come to darken their door. The fact that she sent the greys away, too, meant it was serious. Unless it was curfew, greys were expected to be cooking, cleaning, or serving at all times.

 Her roommates, three female greys, were taking advantage of the free time to rest. Exhausting hours and endless tasks knocked them all out within minutes of returning-- the first nap any of them had been allowed since arriving at the Outpost.

 She wished she could join them, but sleep eluded Maddie. In fact, she was pretty certain she hadn't got a solid eight hours of sleep since before the apocalypse.      Long     before the apocalypse.

 Instead, she read from her books. There were four texts that had been in her bag before the world ended and a fucking SWAT team had descended on her in her university library to lock her away. Plus, there were the two plays she’d filched from Evie Gallant’s trash.

     Plato's Republic  

     The Iliad  

     The Odyssey  

     The Aeneid  

     Macbeth  

 And      Waiting for Godot  

 Despite the massive library at the Outpost, greys were forbidden from reading. Not that it ever stopped Maddie. She just waited for everyone to fall asleep. She knew the guards schedules well enough that she could make it to the library and back without being caught. She'd stay hidden while she read but monthly random inspections kept her from sneaking the books back to her quarters.

 With the possibility of a surprise visitor, plus the fact it was technically still daytime, she wasn't going to chance sneaking out. So she reread      The Iliad     for the umpteenth time and tried to feel sorry for the Trojans, who only lost a city.

 The survivors of Outpost 3 had lost the world.

 At quarter past four, there was a knock on the door. The only one awake, Maddie tiptoed to open it. All her efforts for quiet were in vain as Ms. Mead loudly proclaimed, "Resume your duties."

 She didn’t have to look to know that Mallory, Emma, and Jane had been woken. Barely resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Maddie offered a tight smile and a nod.

 Mead turned on her heel, loudly stomping down the hall.

 Looking back, she wished she had put up a bigger fight against the SWAT team. She didn't mind the menial work, nor the day to day bullshit of life after the apocalypse but being treated like a servant grated on her.

 The words 'please' and 'thank you’ seemed absent from most of the purples and Venable's staff vocabularies.

 "Anyone else suddenly have the urge to sing Hard Knock Life?" Maddie asked, sweeping her dark hair up into a the stupid bun they were required to don outside their quarters.

 "Don't tempt me," Emma muttered, slipping into their shared bathroom.

 Mallory rubbed her eyes. "Since we're cleaning, I take it we haven't been overrun by cannibals?"

 "We aren't that lucky."

 Mal offered a small smile as she pushed herself to a sitting position. “A girl can dream.”

 As greys, dreaming was about all they were allowed to do. And only on their own time.

  Buttoning up her dress and slipping on her apron, Maddie slipped into the hall.

 They hadn’t cleared breakfast that morning due to the proximity alert. God forbid one of the purples venture into the dining hall and find it imperfect. They tended to search for fault as abusing the greys was one of the few pleasures that Venable still allowed.

 Maddie got to work, immediately stacking plates to take back to the kitchen.

 She took comfort in the fact the day was half done already. Instead of the normal twelve hours between breakfast and curfew, she only had seven to go. Then another half-hour before it was safe to sneak out of her room and down to the library.

 Her lips twitched in anticipation.

 The other greys weren’t far behind. While Mallory and Emma were off dealing with Coco and Dinah, respectively, Maddie and the rest made quick work of cleaning the dining room and the kitchen. Maddie had just washed the last of the dishes when Mead and the Fist came in, each carrying a dark-stained bag.

 “Your lucky day, Eric,” Mead addressed the grey who had once been a chef, shoving the bag in his direction while the Fist dropped hers on the ground with a solid      thud    .

 Peaking over the counter, Maddie caught sight of long, scaled bodies. She gasped as she realized the contents were snakes.

 She looked up, noting Eric had a similar shocked expression on his face.

 “Where did these come from?”

 “They’re safe to eat,” Mead said, without answering his question. “Took the Gieger over all of ‘em.”

 “We’re supposed to eat them?” James, another of the greys, asked. He looked nauseous at the thought and Maddie couldn’t entirely blame him.

 “It’s protein. It’s good for you.” Mead shook her head before exiting the kitchen.

 As soon as the door swung shut behind her, Maddie muttered, “I think I speak for everyone when I say: what the fuck.”

 “You really think it’s safe?” Eric asked.

 “I’d wear gloves before touching them.”

 “Shit.”

 “Think they came from outside?” James asked, looking at Maddie.

 She peeked, reluctantly, into the bag. “Don’t think they came from inside. Bets on who’s going to throw the largest fit?”

 There was a brief pause before the others all bemoaned, “Coco.”

 Maddie laughed along with them.

 Sure enough, lunch was a fiasco. Even those who didn’t openly complain about the source of protein made faces of disgust as they were served.

 Maddie remained silent, listening intently for any mention of the proximity alert. Between complaints and exaggerated stories of life before the blasts, it didn’t seem like anyone was going to be willing to speak up.

 Finally, and to her credit, Emily turned to Venable. “So, who’s in your office?”

 “I beg your pardon?”

 “Alarms went off before. Someone came inside.”

 Her lips twitched as one of the only purples she could stand held her ground against the HBIC.

 “Who else is here?”

 But Venable’s pinched face told Maddie that she wasn’t going to tell them shit.

 “All questions will be answered in due course.”

 There wasn’t time to be disappointed as, almost immediately, snakes began slithering out of the hot broth and across the table. No matter the fact that they had all been chopped to bits and boiled beyond recognition. Suddenly, they were whole and seemingly pissed at their treatment, hissing at anyone who came near.

 Coco and Gallant climbed onto their chairs as Andre  ran out of the room, screaming.

 “Grab them!” Venable cried even as she backed away herself. Eric had rushed to the kitchen to grab something to contain them with while the other greys turned pale.

 Catching snakes had never been in the job description.

 “Are they poisonous?” James asked, eyes wide.

 Maddie barely withheld correcting him that, technically, the snakes were      venomous    . She didn’t think he’d appreciate that little lesson, though.

 She’d caught three by the time Eric had come back with a pot and a lid to store them in.

 They were slippery little bastards and the others seemed almost too afraid to make a real attempt at catching them. They probably didn’t have her experience, playing with little garden snakes in her backyard. She’d always had a soft spot for snakes. Maddie knew what it was like to be a misunderstood creature.

 The others saw snakes and thought of cowards, crawling on their bellies. Or stories of sin and seduction.

 She thought of Asclepius and the symbol of medicine. The sacredness of the creatures in thousands of cultures, revered for the ability to shed their skin and be born again. They represented life just as much as they represented death.

 She caught six more with ease while Eric, Emma, and Mallory managed to catch about one a piece. Mead shot another before they were taken away to be disposed of, once and for all.

 As usual, the greys did the dirty work while the purples wandered off and debated just how it had happened.

 Maddie slipped into the kitchen, now empty as Eric and James followed Mead, carrying the large pot.

 She had started to heat the water to wash the dishes when she saw it out of the corner of her eye.

 A little slither and two black, shining eyes staring up at her from under a stove.

 She set down the dishes, creeping slowly towards it.

 "Hello, there," she whispered, kneeling down. "You're a quick little thing, aren't you? Never even saw you slip away."

 She reached for it, carefully grabbing it from the neck so it couldn't bite her. It's tail began winding its way down her wrist. It was smaller than the others but no less deadly.

 "What am I to do with you?"

 She      should    bring him down the hall to where Mead was disposing of them for good. But it was so little, so helpless. It's venom was potent but it couldn't kill them all. And there were many of them.

 She swore it was trying to nuzzle her hand.

 Fuck.

 She couldn't leave it to die.

 She turned around, searching for some kind of container. She found a brown box with a detachable lid in the storeroom. Using a knife, she cut holes into the lid and set the snake inside.

 The door to the kitchen opened and Venable came inside.

 "What are you doing?" she asked with her ever present frown.

 "Putting away napkins.”

 Venable made a noise of annoyance. “Well, finish it up. Everyone has been summoned to the parlor by our new guest.”

 “The dishes aren’t…”

 “You can finish with your menial tasks later. Your presence is required now.”

 Maddie nodded, stifling a wince. She’d have to hide her new friend someplace and come back for him after the meeting. She settled it on the top shelf in the store room before hurrying off to the parlor.

 The purples took the parlor section, lounging on the soft, leather couches that Venable would have her whipped for touching without a rag in her hand. Two greys were left down below to attend any emergency needs.

 With the others of her class, Maddie climbed up to the balcony.

 Aside from mourning the loss of heat as they trekked further away from the fire, she truly didn’t mind it. There were few purples who could hold a conversation anyway.

 “What do you think is going on?” James asked, a harsh whisper in her ear.

 Maddie barely withheld a wince as she leaned down against the bannister. Her need for personal space pushed her away as she replied, “My money’s on bullshit.”

 Instead, she thought about the little snake she had acquired and what she would call him. Cleo, Asp-en, Medusa… she smiled as she thought to herself.      Macula    . The classical Latin word for      spot    . No one would get it, but then, it wasn’t like they got      her     anyway.

 Beneath them, a hush fell over the purples. Slow and measured footsteps echoed across the library as a blond man with granite features entered the room and walked over to Venable. He inclined his head, almost daring her to say something.

 Instead, she backed away, looking as spooked as Maddie had ever seen her.

 An unusual sight that made her do a double take.

 He was attractive, to be sure, vaguely reminding her of a GQ model. Even from the balcony she could make out his striking blue eyes and full, pink lips. But more than just his physical appearance, he carried with him a      fuck with me. I dare you    attitude.

 “My name is Langdon,” the man introduced, looking around the room. “And I represent The Cooperative. I won't sugarcoat the situation. Humanity is on the brink of failure. My arrival here was crucial to the survival of civilized life on Earth. The three other compounds… In Syracuse, New York, Beckley, West Virginia, and San Angelo, Texas have been overrun and destroyed. We've had no contact from the six international Outposts, but we are assuming that they, too, have been eliminated.”

 “Holy shit,” James muttered as Emma took a sharp breath on her other side.

 “What happened to the people inside?” asked Tim.

 “      Massacred    .” Maddie inclined her head as Langdon spoke. The word was said with what she could only describe as fondness. He continued, the barest hint of a smile on his, albeit, handsome face. “The same fate that will befall almost all of you.”

 “Almost all?” came Mallory’s voice. The purples looked over towards her in disgust but Langdon didn’t seem to notice.

 “In the knowledge that this very moment might occur, we built a failsafe… The Sanctuary.”

 “The Sanctuary?”

 Maddie frowned, feeling the beginning of a headache coming on.      Deja vu, bitch.  

 “The Sanctuary is unique. It has certain security measures that will prevent overrun.”

 “Excuse me, sir.” Mead interrupted, asking, “What measures? Why weren't we given them?”

 Langdon held up a hand, dramatically. His long fingers were adorned with rings of varying sizes. “That's classified. All that matters is that The Sanctuary will survive, so the people populating it will survive, so humanity will survive.”

 “Who are the people who are populating it?”

 “Also classified. However, I have been sent to determine if any of you are worthy and fit to join us.”

     That     caused a murmur amongst the purples. Gallant and Coco were loudly whispering to each other, causing Maddie to roll her eyes. Maybe, if she was very lucky, Langdon would take them with him when he left.

 The man in question continued. “The Cooperative has developed a particular and rigorous questioning technique we like to call… ‘Cooperating.’ I will then use the information gained to determine if you belong.”

 “What is this, The Hunger Games?” Coco said angrily. Apparently the idea of      talking     was too much work for her. “This is bullshit. I paid my way in here, and that is the only      cooperating    I plan on doing.”

 “You don't have to sit for questioning.” Langon gave her a pointed stare.

 “What happens if we choose not to?”

 “Then you stay here and die.”

 Maddie snorted softly.

 So what? It was the end of the world. Truthfully, it was incredible they’d all lived that long.

 Langdon’s eyes shot up to the balcony, narrowing on her. And then, as quickly as it had happened, they were gone, looking back around the room at large.

 “I volunteer to go first,” Gallant said with a wave of his hand.

 “And so you shall,” Langdon acquiesced before addressing them all together. “The process should only take me a couple of days, so you won't be kept in suspense forever. For those of you who don't make the cut, all is not lost. If the worst should happen and feral cannibals come knocking, down one of these.” He held up a small vial filled with pills. “One minute later, you fall asleep and never wake up. I look forward to meeting each and every one of you.”

 Without another word, Langdon strolled from the room with a peace and assuredness that was almost worse than being told most of them would die shortly.

 Maddie had to give him credit. The man had a way about him that was utterly show stopping.

  “That was fucking intense,” James noted.

 “Do you think he’d take any of the greys with him?” asked Eric, like he didn’t dare to hope.

 “I wouldn’t get my hopes up,” Maddie murmured. There was an air about Langdon that screamed      sociopath    . It was in the way he spoke of the downfalls of the other Outposts, the smirk as he offered suicide-capsules. The ease in which he spoke about their imminent deaths by cannibals.

 At the very least, he was a narcissist. The way he strutted in, playing savior.

 Like they should all be on their knees, kissing the tails of his coat, and praising his coming.

 James and Eric continued to whisper about the possibilities of Sanctuary.

 A waste of time, she thought.

 Hope was a luxury and her time was already stretched to its limits. She couldn’t indulge in such fantasies.

 “We should get back to the dining room. Finish cleaning up,” she said pointedly, thinking of her new little friend, hidden amongst the storeroom. She’d have to get him to her room but that wouldn’t be too much of a struggle. No one paid any attention to the greys unless they wanted something.

 And she could convince her roommates to keep quiet, at least for a few days until she figured out a better plan.

 “Mads is right,” Eric said with a sign. “Give us time to prepare for our interviews as we clean.”

 She nodded half-heartedly.

 Maddie gave a final sweeping glance to the library. Her fingers itched to touch the books but, unless she was dusting, it was forbidden for a grey to sully the old texts. Despite the fact that half of them were in Latin and she was the only one in the Outpost who could understand them.

 But the day was half-done already. In just a matter of hours, she would be back to read by candlelight. And that was the only thought that could still bring a smile to her face.

..........................................

 Michael had gone into Outpost 3 with low expectations. Or so he had thought. As it turned out,      low     was not nearly low enough. Already, he had talked to two of Venable’s designated purples, the queen bee, herself, and a grey. All of whom ranged on a scale of grossly pathetic to unbearably uninteresting.

 In hindsight, he should have paid more attention to those allowed to survive the blasts.

 While the billionaires who had bought their way to survival had financed his Outposts, they were all the same.

 The self-indulgence and greed didn’t bother him so much. After all, Satan preached worldly pleasure above all things.

 It was the inflated egos and misplaced pride that grinded against his sensibilities.

 Take Gallant. A former avant-garde hairdresser who had spent the last eighteen months whining about when the world was better. There was no gratitude towards surviving.

 Granted, Gallant had survived by the skin of his teeth, managing to manipulate his way to one of the St. Pierre Vanderbilt's tickets.

 But even Coco and Dinah, who had paid for their tickets, were shallow ingrates.

 No goals. No cares. No substance.

 Outposts 1 and 2 had been the same. Even Sanctuary, filled with the best and the brightest scientists who were prepared to remake the world in his image, made him yawn.

 Perhaps he should just kill them all and be done with it, although he hated to get his hands dirty. If he was patient, Venable would take care of them all and he could just sit back and wait.

 Disappointing but not unexpected, he thought as he walked down the corridors of his old school. They were completely empty from Venable’s imposed curfew.

 The Outpost leader’s rules were borderline puritanical. How he had ever been convinced by Jeff and Mutt to allow her to lead an Outpost was beyond him. She was the antithesis to all things Satanic, from the modest dress everyone was forced to wear to the rules denying all sexual contact under threat of death.

 Two of her ‘greys’ had been shot execution-style not long after the Outpost opened after being caught      in flagrante delicto    .

 Michael found himself outside the library. He blinked in surprise. How many times had he wandered these halls as a student, only to end up in the same place?

 He’d always favored the room. He’d immersed himself in his studies from his very first day at Hawthorne. The only place he’d ever felt as though he’d fit in.

 He slipped inside, admiring the ceiling-high bookshelves. He’d once vowed to read every one of those texts. He’d made decent progress before things all went sideways with the presence of Cordelia Goode and her army of weak, teenage witches.

 Maybe he’d take the books with him when he left...

 A small intake of breath caught his attention as Michael realized he wasn’t alone.

 His lips twitched. It seemed someone wasn’t as afraid of Ms. Venable as the bitch would like to think they all were.

 “Come out, come out,” he found himself taunting, looking around the room in a broad sweep. As if he couldn’t hear exactly where the quiet sound of her breathing came from.

 The girl didn’t move.

 Truly amused for the first time since arriving at Hawthorne, Michael tried again. “Show yourself, little one, and maybe I won’t tell Venable you’ve been out and about.”

 For a moment, there was only silence, followed by a soft, “Fuck.”

 Michael pursed his lips to keep from smiling. There was a quiet      thud     and a rustling of clothes as she stood from her hiding place, tucked away in a little alcove.

 He recognized the little grey from the Outpost meeting earlier. She had leaned against the bannister up above, seemingly annoyed by his very existence. While others had taken in his presence with an appropriate level of awe, she had acted as if she were inconvenienced by his offer of Sanctuary.

 She wore the same stupid grey dress mandated by Venable, although she had undone the top few buttons. And though the head bitch also required all ‘greys’ to wear their hair in the most unflattering knot he had ever seen, the girl’s hair had been let loose in silky waves.

 She squared her shoulders in open defiance. “Mister Langdon.”

 “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage.” He crossed the room in a wide arch, carefully closing in on her. “What is your name?”

 She tensed ever so slightly, a flash of fear in her eyes, gone as quickly as it had appeared. Lost under a mask of bravado.

 How curious…

 “Madeline Sage.”

 The name echoed through his mind. Madeline.

 A name with Hebrew origins. He’d studied enough of language and the Christian texts to know her name was an homage to Mary Magdalene, the disputed bride of Christ.

 Surely, a coincidence of no significance. And yet…

 Michael took another step closer. “And what, Madeline Sage, are you doing out so long past curfew?”

 “A little light reading?”

 He’d killed people for using such insolent tones with him before. So why did hers make him want to smile?

 “And it couldn’t wait until morning?”

 At his question, she frowned, glancing to the side.

 His eyes narrowed. “What?” he asked at her sudden silence.

 “I’m      grey    .”

 It was his turn to frown. “And?”

 She shrugged a shoulder, not quite meeting his eye even as she gazed in his direction. “Greys aren’t allowed to access the library.”

 For a moment, Michael truly regretted killing Mutt and Jeff, if only for the opportunity to do so again. Slower, this time. And more painfully, solely for the fact that they unleashed Venable to his new world.

 But he would deal with the bitch in black later.

 “What,” he asked, glancing at the book and college-ruled spiral notebook by her feet, “was so worth incurring the wrath of Venable?”

 He stepped directly in front of her, looking down pointedly. She was a full head shorter than he was and his close proximity forced her to look up.

 Rather than waiting for her answer, Michael knelt down to the floor. The book she was reading from was an old occult text outlining the history of magic. In Latin.

 But what truly caught his attention was the spiral-bound notebook. In careful, neat lettering, she was writing out English definitions. Michael picked them both up, setting the notebook on top as he flipped backward.

 Sure enough, page after page of definitions. Towards the beginning, multiple charts of standard declensions and conjugations.

 He tilted his head, stunned for the first time since discovering who he truly was the night of his first Black Mass.

 “You’re writing a Latin dictionary?”

 Adding to his surprise, the girl’s cheeks flushed. Still, she looked up, meeting his gaze with that same fierce defiance he had seen when he first ordered her to stand.

 “Yes.”

 “Why?”

 She swallowed, eyeing her work as if she was afraid he would take it away. "What we don’t save is lost.”

 He followed her gaze back to her writing, the perfectly constructed charts, the crisp lettering. Time and care had gone into all of it.

 She had risked punishment to save a dead language.

 After an evening of listening to half a dozen people blather on about their uses while whining about their circumstances, he was awed.

 "      Acta non verba,    " he murmured aloud.

 "Deeds, not words," she translated without missing a beat. Her eyes met his, no longer defiant and defensive but curious. "You know Latin?"

 Michael nodded. His birthright had come with a variety of powers, including the ability to comprehend and speak any language across time. “Where did you learn?"

 "High school. I'll admit, it's been quite a while. My translations are far from perfect. I remember learning a lot more about Roman farmers and a lot less of the occult than the boys of Hawthorne."

 "I take it your knowledge is of Classical Latin rather than Ecclesiastical."

 Her eyes widened and her breath hitched ever so prettily. "Exactly! It's why this dictionary has been so much more of a struggle."

 The excitement coating her words almost made him smile. It had been a long time since he saw or felt true excitement. Someone able to make something from the rubble rather than languishing like the rest.

 There was a warm, fuzzy sensation in his chest that he couldn't name.

 Her words somehow caught up to his brain. There was something about the way she had said      'this'     that gave him pause. "Have you made more than one dictionary?"

 The flush stained her cheeks again, like she had been slapped. Yet somehow, it was even more enchanting.

 Madeline nodded. "I'm more fluent in Ancient Greek than Latin. Both Attic and Koine, which are the main dialects that--”

 “Attic was an Ionic dialect associated with many of the classical texts and the early philosophers,” Michael interrupted. “Koine was a more common, widespread tongue. The early editions of the New Testament were written in Koine.”

 She nodded again, momentarily stunned. "Y-yes. I wrote out an Attic dictionary already but I only had one notebook left.”

 Madeline gestured to the spiral-bound atrocity in his hands. It was plebian, vulgar.

 For some reason, it pissed him off that she was recording lost knowledge with a ballpoint pen and something school children would doodle in.

 She should be writing in ink or fountain pens. Her words not bleeding through the thin pages, leaving indents behind in what would otherwise be perfection.

 “I figured one of each language was better than two Greek dialects. Plus, some of the Koine rules are just so specific, I didn’t want to make a mistake and... I’m rambling. Sorry. It’s been a long time since I spoke to someone who knew anything about dead languages.”

 “Indeed,” he agreed. “Did you learn Greek in high school, as well?”

 She shook her head. “Undergrad. I double-majored in Ancient Civ and Ancient Greek. What about you? It was hard to find someone in the old world who knew the differences between Greek dialects. I didn’t think to look for it in a Cooperative adjudicator.”

 Usually, personal questions pissed Michael off to no end. His business was his own but he couldn't help but wish he had a better answer for her.

 For some inexplicable reason, he wanted to tell her the truth. His birthright, his abilities and understanding of languages. Would it impress her that he could read fluently from every dead language known and unknown to man?

 But to tell her would be to admit who he was. That could interfere with his plans for Outpost 3, for those who resided there as well.

 He chose the most simple answer. “My father had an ear for languages. He began teaching me when I was young.”

 She offered a small smile that shot through him like a drug. His pants grew uncomfortably tight.

 How… strange. He usually had more control over such bodily functions. He'd never struggled when the need arose but that had never just happened on it's own.

 “I’m glad to hear that other languages will survive, at least a little bit longer.” Her tone was wistful, longing.

 He thought of the books and artifacts saved in the Sanctuary. Pieces of art and history that he deemed worth saving.

 What would she think of his choices? Would her eyes light up if he showed her? Would her cheeks burn red if he fucked her against a two-thousand-year-old tapestry?

 He barely withheld a moan at the image.

 Her petite body wrapped around his, nails digging into his shoulders as she would cling to him. Her teeth sinking into his neck as he whispered all the dirty things he would do to her...

 Madeline Sage.

 He regretted not having familiarized himself with the files before his arrival. He knew her name was not on the original roster for Outpost three. He would have recognized it.

 But Venable and the other Outpost leaders had sent updated rosters within a week of the explosions and one of his assistants had compiled files on each of them.

 Histories, family trees. Their kindergarten report cards all the way to their employee reviews at their jobs. Credit reports and IQ.

 He hated not knowing only a little more than he hated asking.

 For the first time in any Outpost, he was looking forward to interviewing someone for something beyond the fleeting amusement of watching them squirm.

     But, oh, to watch her squirm...  

 "In hindsight, though, I probably should have studied engineering," she added. "I feel like the ability to make a radio or make a wind turbine would have been a lot more useful."

 Michael smirked. He already had several dozen people at the Sanctuary for that but no one who knew the major dialects in ancient languages. He wondered what else she knew about.

 "I'm not sure I'd agree. The preservation of knowledge is a… noble pursuit."

 She shrugged off the praise in a way that made him frown. Either she wasn't used to it or someone had made her feel less for her endeavors. A spike of rage hit him in the chest, making him want to lash out at all those around her, past and present.

 "It makes me feel better but I'm not sure how much good it will do."

 "Good is rather subjective. Is making yourself feel better not enough?"

 She seemed to consider it before inclining her head. "Some days it is. It's not like I ever expected to make a big difference in the world before it went to hell. It's just some days it feels pointless."

 "And what do you do on those days?"

 She raised her chin. "I get up and do it anyway."

 "You're a rebel,” he commented, fighting a smile

 "I prefer 'civilly disobedient'."

 This time, he couldn't stop the smile from spreading. She was magnificent.

 "Rules were made to be broken, then?"

 "Often. But they need to be understood before they can be discarded."

 "And why do you think you're forbidden from these texts?"

 "Knowledge is a dangerous thing." She shrugged. "Or the Cooperative is made up of fascists. Take your pick."

 Little Madeline thought to taunt him?

 How… fascinating.

 "An interesting sentiment to pass on to the Cooperative representative who chooses if you live or die," he said imposingly, resisting the urge to set her straight that such rules stemmed from Venable and not from him. At least, for now.

 She raised a defiant brow. "Prove me wrong."

 He hummed. "The others of this Outpost seek to find their way to Sanctuary at all costs. Lying, betrayal,      begging    .” Fuck, he wanted to see her beg. “And yet you disrespect the only one who could save you.”

 “Would you go as far as to say I’m not      cooperating?    ”

 He ignored her question, narrowing his eyes. “Do you fear death?”

 “Everyone dies. And that was true long before the apocalypse.” Madeline tilted her head. “Truthfully, I’m surprised I’ve made it this long.”

 As a rule, Michael tended to be good at reading people. Another gift from his father. Not quite mind-reading but the ability to see intentions and understand desires. He was better than sodium pentothal.

 Standing before the little grey, he couldn’t manage to get a reading at all.

 No intentions, no desires, no secrets.

 Her every word and action surprised him.

 The aura of a hopelessly good girl who was purposefully, admittedly breaking the rules to make humanity a little bit better.

 He was helplessly drawn to her light like a fucking moth to a flame.

 He longed to reach out and touch her pink cheek, to see if it was as soft and warm as it appeared. Would she cower from his touch? Or lean into him?

 His hand began to stretch when his ears twitched.

 "Get on your knees," he said lowly.

 Thr flush was back, this time indignant as she hissed, "Excuse me?"

 "Kneel!" he ordered, mentally rushing a pillow from the couch to land on the floor, cushioning her as her body obeyed. "Be silent!"

 There was a flash of fear in her eyes and he instantly regretted his actions, even if it were for her protection.

 The click of shoes grew louder and Madeline's eyes widened in understanding. Michael dropped the books, letting them float to the floor quietly, just as the guard known as the Fist entered the library.

 From where the guard stood, she would be unable to see his little civilly disobedient girl.

 He shot her a look of pure contempt. "Can I help you?"

 "I heard voices. Who was with you?"

 Michael tilted his head slowly. "I do not believe I answer to you."

 "The rules may not apply to you, Mister Langdon, but they do to those who live on this Outpost. I need to know who is up and out of their beds past curfew."

 One moment his hand was empty, in the next, there was a phone. He held it up. "I was speaking with the Sanctuary."

 The guard looked shocked. "That works?"

 "Obviously," he drawled. "Now if you would be so kind as to allow me to finish my call in private?"

 With a frown, the Fist turned on her heel and stalked off, down the hall.

 When the footsteps receded, he turned back to Madeline. He tried to ignore the feelings that arose, seeing her in such a position before him.

 He waved his hand and the spell broke. She gasped quietly at the sensation, looking up over long lashes.

 "Thank you," she said softly.

 Michael offered his hand but nothing could prepare him for the electrical current when she accepted his touch. He grit his teeth to keep from making a sound as he tugged her to her feet.

 In his haste, his unchecked strength sent her off balance, crashing into him. Michael quickly circled his arm around her, keeping her from falling. Her hand braced against his chest as the world stood still.

 His heart pounded in his chest in a way that made him wonder if it had truly beat before.

 Her face nearly scarlet, Madeline stepped back.

 Reluctantly, he let her go wondering what the fuck was coming over him.

 Why did he feel the need to kiss her senseless and why the fuck wasn't he just taking what he wanted?

 “You’re a warlock?” she asked.

 Michael held a hand over where her books had fallen. They raced back up to land in his arms. He offered them to her and she accepted, clutching them to her chest.

 “Not quite.”

 Her eyes narrowed, curiously. “Then what are you?”

 “Depends on who you ask.”

 “Not a very helpful answer, Mister Langdon.”

 “Michael,” he corrected, surprising himself by offering his given name. He hadn’t given Venable nor anyone else on the other Outposts the honor.

 Those in the Sanctuary referred to him as      King    or      My Liege    .

 And those outside knew him only as      Langdon.  

 She gave a gentle nod but it wasn’t lost on him that she did not immediately jump to use it. He frowned slightly before explaining, “The warlocks had access to magic in its most basic forms but none were particularly powerful. They referred to me as      The Alpha.    The witches acknowledged me as the next Supreme.”

 If she watched any of the news in the last ten years before the blast, Michael was certain she would understand the significance of that title. The subtle widening of her eyes told him that she did, indeed, recognize it.

 He wondered if she were impressed.

 At the time, the Seven Wonders had seemed like a chore. Nothing more than another homework assignment to be completed. Yet now, he felt like boasting.

 Telling her exactly how he accomplished each and every task with ease.

 How he had gone beyond the simple task of descending to Hell by finding witches locked in their own personal hells and releasing them back onto the world.

 “Does Venable know?”

 “No.” Not that it mattered. He could accomplish his goals regardless of how afraid of him they all were. Still, he was curious how she would respond when he asked, “Are you going to tell her?”

 “Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.”

 She wasn’t.

 And while he wouldn’t care if she did share what she had seen, he felt the need to praise her. Reaching forward, he pushed her hair back out of her face and behind her ear.

 She swallowed, stilling under his linger touch as he ran his hand through the dark tresses. His fingers closed around one lock, watching as it straightened before bouncing back into a curl as he released it.

 Finally, he understood why little boys tugged on little girls' pigtails.

 Her eyes flickered down, his touch obviously affecting her he realized with a sense of pride.

 “I should get back to my quarters,” she said softly. “I didn’t realize how late it was.”

 Disappointing, but he would see her soon. After all, he still had her interview to complete.

 “Allow me to escort you.”

 “That’s not necessary--”

 “I      insist    ,” he pushed, offering his arm.

 Madeline hesitated before accepting the gesture, slipping her hand into its crook.

 “Thank you.”

 She slipped the occult text into the nearby shelf she had taken it from.

 With a charming smile, Michael led her down the corridor, towards the old dormitories that had been converted into housing for the greys. She wondered, idly, if he had been to Hawthorne before, either as a student or before the bombs fell. He seemed to know his way around without much direction.

 “Do you enjoy your life here?” he asked, leading her up a set of stairs.

 “Parts of it.”

 “You would enjoy it more as a      purple    ,” he guessed, the color a biting remark on his tongue.

 “Probably not,” she admitted. “While I wish I had access to the library, I think I might have gone insane with all the forced socializing.”

 “How so?”

 She flushed, as if she didn’t wish to speak ill of the others. How oddly endearing.

 “Tell me,” he prompted.

 Madeline looked down, thoughtfully, before looking back at him. “I’ve never heard so many people speak so much about      nothing    . A thousand conversations about back when life was different. Regaling each other with accomplishments that don’t hold the same weight in a world where even the richest are starving... I spend most of my day cleaning but the hours I spend serving and interacting with the purples directly are undoubtedly the longest. When Venable announced we were cutting back to one meal a day, I was actually grateful that it meant I wouldn’t have to spend as much time in their presence.”

 He withheld a wince.

 He blamed himself for such failures. He had offered tickets in exchange for money when he should have just taken their money as his due and individually picked out those worthy of survival. Allowing the rich who had sold their souls long ago to be the sole survivors had backfired.

 He now had dozens of survivors who were incapable of working hard or independent thought. They desired everything while giving nothing.

 “This is me,” she told him, stopping outside her door. “Thank you for the conversation. And for hiding me from the Fist.”

 Madeline removed her hand from his arm but he quickly caught it in his own hand, turning it over. He bowed his head, brushing his lips gently over her knuckles.

 “The pleasure was all mine. Goodnight, Madeline.”

 “Goodnight, Mister Langdon.”

 His grip tightened on her hand.

 “Michael,” he corrected.

 He refused to release her until she softly echoed, “Michael.”

 She slipped back into her room, quietly allowing the door to latch behind her while Michael remained in place. His superior hearing could hear the rustle of fabrics as she undressed, the soft creak of the bedsprings as she settled in.

 A curious thing which he had not accounted for.

The pain was gone all at once. From the hole in her heart to the ache in her back, Maddie felt calm. Peaceful. It was surreal, like being in a deep meditative trance. Her body felt light, as if she was floating. But she wasn’t. She could feel a hard floor underneath her.

She opened her eyes. Above her was a high and gilded ceiling.

This was not the Outpost.

“Please, continue to take your time,” a deep voice said dryly.

Maddie rolled her head to the side, towards the voice. A man, lounging on a throne and looking utterly annoyed stared back at her. She pushed to her side, climbing to her feet.

She was no longer in the red ball gown. Instead, she wore a flowing, black dress that reached just past her knees.

Her eyes flickered back to the man in the throne.

He leaned forward, ever so slightly. "Do you know who I am, Madeline?"

If she hadn’t already, she would have guessed by the way he said her name.

She recognized him although he didn't look like any of his pictures. There was no red skin or thin mustache and goatee. He didn't reek of death. There were no horns or blackened wings.

He did, however, look exceedingly like his son.

The Devil was a handsome man, indeed.

Flawless and angelic, with blond hair and cheekbones that could cut glass.

He wore a blood-red velvet robe and a black crown that rested on those soft, golden curls. He stood with an air of authority that resembled Michael’s matched with a look that clearly stated the whole world is beneath me.

“I do,” she said. “Although I’m uncertain what to call you given your many names.”

He had a smirk that matched Michael’s. “Call me what you please, I answer to all of them. Hades, Satan, Osiris, Yama, Mictlantecuhtli, Mot--”

“Lucifer,” another voice added in an acrid tone.

Maddie turned her head to see a dark-haired man with small white wings and a staff entwined with two snakes.

"Hermes," she recognized.

The man in question frowned while Satan let out a little laugh. "Ah, Hermes. That is what we used to call my dear little brother once upon a time. Now, he prefers Gabriel, but by all means, continue to call him Hermes. I do so love to watch him squirm."

"Haven't you an evil soul to tend, Luke? Hers belongs to us."

Maddie inhaled sharply as she looked at Satan. She had no real reason to trust him. He'd done terrible things to Michael, terrible things to the world and yet… Michael trusted him.

And the thought of an angel taking her soul away to where Michael couldn't go made her feel instantly queasy.

Satan stepped down from the dais. “She’s not going anywhere with you.”

“Heaven dictates otherwise.”

“I believe you’ll remember that I have a tendency to ignore the dictates of heaven.”

"Your son had time. He didn't even begin to corrupt her." Gabriel grinned maliciously while simultaneously glaring at his brother. "He didn't even try. Instead, he indulged her every kindness. His loss is our gain." Gabriel turned his attention back to her. "I'll escort you to heaven, where you will be safe from the evils of hell.”

He outstretched a hand and Maddie stepped back, feeling herself tense.

Satan made a sound of approval. “Corrupted or not, little Madeline clearly has no use for the hypocrisy of heaven.”

Gabriel didn’t look away from her. The only sign that Satan had been heard was the little twitch in the angel’s eye. “You don’t belong here, Maddie. Your soul is pure. Come with me. I’ll take you to your family, where you can spend the rest of your days in a land of plenty.”

For a moment her heart ached. If not for her family, then for the ability to say goodbye. For closure.

“Go with him,” Satan said coolly, “and you’ll never see Michael again.”

That caught her attention and her head spun to her lover’s father.

Gabriel scoffed. “While your ability to love the damned is admirable, you do not belong with the Antichrist.”

“The fates seem to disagree,” Satan said with a smirk that rivaled his son’s.

“An accident, I’m certain.”

“Of course. Just as your beloved savior married a whore.”

“Mary Magdalene is a saint!”

“I’m not judging,” Satan said in a tone that clearly stated I’m judging.

“Maddie, Michael destroyed the world,” Gabriel pleaded. “Everyone you’ve ever known. Your friends, your family, your teachers. The lucky ones were disintegrated in the explosion. Those who survived were forced to cannibalize to stay alive. He is single-handedly responsible for the death of billions. Including more than half the survivors of your Outpost.”

Maddie swallowed, remembering what Venable had said about the poisoned apples before the bitch had shot her. And Michael had known.

That had always been his plan. To destroy the Outpost. Finding her, his fated woman, was the only thing that had spared any of them. And without her… she doubted he would save Mallory and the others.

Satan waited until she looked at him, his face suddenly becoming all too serious. "Right now, my son is cradling your broken body, begging you to come back to him."

Her breath hitched.

For all his faults, and fuck, Michael had faults, he had adored her with every fiber of his being. With every kiss and touch, he had promised her the world. He had teased her for making him do good, had begged her to stay with him despite it all.

She bit her lip, overwhelmed by the emotions.

The Antichrist who was so desperate to be loved and accepted. Abandoned again and again. Then to have her taken away…

He wouldn’t be able to handle it.

"Send me back."

To her surprise, Satan didn’t smile. If anything, he grew more serious. "I'm afraid it isn't so simple. You see, the moment you died, angels were standing by to cart your lily-white soul to heaven." 

"I see they got very far."

The devil laughed while Gabriel’s face pinched. The former offered a dazzling smile. "For such a good little girl, you are remarkably insolent."

“I’ve been informed they’re not mutually exclusive.”

The resemblance between father and son was strong as his lips twitched in amusement.  “Regardless, there are complications...”

“But it’s my choice, right?” she asked, looking between them. "Otherwise, you would have just forced me to heaven or hell."

Gabriel frowned.

“She’s remarkably astute, isn’t she?” Satan asked his brother. He didn’t wait for a reply before he turned back to her. “Yes, little Madeline, the choice is ultimately yours. A little bylaw of the fates. I cannot control your path, nor can God. And though Michael can kill and resurrect at will, he cannot control your soul. Which means it is up to you to decide if you return to Earth and to Michael.”

“Or if you’re released to heaven, to spend the rest of your life in paradise.”

“Michael,” she said quickly.

"Not so fast, Maddie,” Gabriel interjected, stepping closer. “You see, what this one isn’t telling you is that once you return to Earth, your soul will be forfeit to hell. You'll be eternally damned. Even when you inevitably die, you will never be allowed to go to heaven."

 Maddie looked at Satan, who shrugged. “All of life is a trade off.”

“A trade off!” Gabriel mocked. “A trade off is choosing between two equally good opportunities, not losing her soul for a few more years with your bastard seed!” Gabriel turned to her. “You would be eternally damned. Your soul would fall into the depths of hell and do not think for a second that he,” he gestured to Satan, “would show you any mercy.”

“While I abhor mercy to any soul, do you really think Michael would allow your soul to feel any sort of pain?”

No, she didn’t. It would destroy Michael to even think of her in pain. But she wasn't certain that Michael had that kind of power over his father.

But, for better or worse, Satan did love his son. It was clear to see, even if she had doubted it before.

Maddie couldn’t bring herself to excuse his actions. The way he had abandoned Michael was inexcusable. That he had let his own child wander the world alone when his every guardian had been killed was sickening. But she could see that he was trying, however belatedly, to fix things.

It might be enough to save her from torture, but was it still worth the damnation?

For Michael?

She bit her lip, looking at Satan.

"You love him," the King of Hell said softly and it fucking hurt that she hadn’t told him. She had put it off carelessly, believing that they had the luxury of time. She should have known better after the apocalypse but she had stayed silent. "And, despite your humanity and obvious character flaws, Michael loves you.”

They were all so fucked.

Her, most of all.

"You can't actually be considering this," the angel said in disbelief. "Maddie, your soul is good. Pure. And Michael Langdon is the antithesis of all that."

Maddie nodded. He wasn't wrong. "But I love him."

"He destroyed the world! Your family, your friends!"

"Yeah." She shivered at the thought of it, a part of her hating herself for being able to care for him despite all he had done. "But I love him."

"He played a key role in annihilating nearly everyone on your Outpost!"

He had, the bastard. She was still pissed about that. He had told her that he would only save the select few she chose but she hadn't realized that meant he would kill everyone else, not even giving them a chance at survival.

But even knowing that…

“Stop feeling so strongly for that hell spawn and think!” Gabriel practically begged.

Satan chuckled. “Oh  yes, little Madeline, do what you do best.”

Gabriel shook his head at his brother. “You’re truly insane.”

Maddie closed her eyes, ignoring their banter back and forth.

Despite her gut reaction, it was not a decision she should make lightly. It wasn't just her life on the line: it was her soul.

Truly, she had never believed she would make it this far. When the blasts had gone off and the rest of the world had fallen, it was only a matter of time until she met her end.

Death didn't scare her.

While she hadn't been an atheist, she had been uncertain about the existence of an afterlife.

Somehow, instead of putting her at ease, it was causing her far more stress.

On one side was heaven. Eternal peace. Rest. A chance to see people she had loved. Innocents, who had died too soon, all on the whim of her lover. To spend the remainder of time in harmony and contentment...

Without Michael.

But to keep him, for just the chance to see him again, she would be damned. Consigned to hell. As a scholar of such, she knew just what kind of punishments she risked. Hellfire. Torture, both physical and psychological. Ironic punishments for her every misdeed on earth. 

While Satan had promised to protect her, she wasn't so sure that she truly trusted him. He loved Michael, yes. But he also would do whatever it took to win his stupid war.

They both would. Satan and God. Or Gabriel. 

Because that was what it was about, right?

Not saving her soul, but an endless family feud. How had Michael put it?

“Planet-destroying, people-erasing kind of family conflict. If God and the Devil had been given free reign, Earth would have been destroyed millenia before you took your first breath.”

Maddie opened her eyes to see the two still arguing. Tempting her with offers she hadn't even heard, not that it would matter.

She looked at Gabriel. “Why does God care?”

“God cares for every soul…”

“No, not like this. God doesn’t come down here and barter for souls out of the goodness of His heart. It’s a game to you.” She looked at Satan and added, “To all of you. Who collects the most souls, who collects the most worship.” Maddie turned back to Gabriel. “So why does He care about the fate of one little soul?”

“Why else?” Satan drawled. “Because He is utterly terrified of what you will become.”

“Of me?” Maddie asked. “I love Michael but I’m not…”

“Evil. Yes, I am well-aware of your flaws.” Satan paused, as if contemplating his words. “To understand your place in the universe, you must understand the natural world as it exists. My father, for all intents and purposes, Michael’s grandfather, played a key role in creating your species. Your weak of will and of stature species, designed by your very nature to revel in conflict and destruction.”

For someone who was trying to convince her to put trust in him, his total disregard for her entire species was a bit alarming.

“My father thought imposing rules of his own would be enough to break through the chaos. And while His hypocritical laws and commandments eventually became well-known and practiced, they force humans to limit their potential by becoming inauthentic shells of their former selves.

“Even you,” he continued, “have lived your entire life in the shadow of those rules. Forcing your entire world into a puritanical regime where pleasure and gain are viewed as evil. Those who chose to honor themselves above their families are deemed selfish. Work and productivity become more important than the enjoyment of your short, infantile lives.  Obligations become more important than freedom until you are all trapped and miserable, and waiting for the sweet release of death.”

Gabriel opened his mouth to interject but Maddie beat him to it. “Carnal pleasures are well and good, but without any sort of social contract or established rules, it will only make for a fractured society.”

Satan hummed. “It’s good to see your humanity has not entirely enfeebled your brain. Yes, your species does need rules. Otherwise, there would be no progress. You’d kill off your entire species on your own.”

Maddie nodded in agreement.

“To destroy the old rules without implementing new ones would be pointless. That’s where Michael comes in. He rules Sanctuary in a way which allows its inhabitants to find joy in what they do. They succeed because work is not based in pride but in enjoyment and a shared goal to rebuild the world. Sanctuary thrives only by his rule.

“But,” he paused, catching Maddie’s eyes in an intense stare. “Michael will not take losing you well. He’s always struggled with loss but you…”

Maddie shivered at the thought. Michael had lost everyone. His mother, his grandmother, his teachers, his guardian…

And now her-- his one tie to humanity. This was going to end badly for everyone. 

“Fuck,” she whispered aloud.

“Language,” Satan chided. “But the sentiment is accurate.”

Gabriel frowned at Maddie. “Regardless of how the hellspawn reacts, you belong in heaven.”

“You don’t understand.”

“You can’t be considering this—”

“You don’t know Michael,” Maddie insisted, shaking her head. “I am the only thing that keeps him human, grounded. Without me, he’ll lose his fucking mind.”

“She’s not wrong, Gabie. Without Madeline, even I won’t be able to control him. He’ll lash out. Destroy what little is left of the world and he won’t stop until everyone’s been annihilated.”

“Except your precious Sanctuary.”

“You’re wrong. Michael will blame God for killing his beloved and he’ll blame me for not saving her. You take Madeline to heaven, the world will crumble. And neither of us want that. Even His Holy Eminence doesn’t want that.”

Gabriel shook his head at his brother. “There are other ways this could play out.”

“There are,” Satan agreed. “Either Michael destroys the world or he starts slipping. He makes a mistake until one of your heaven-bound souls successfully kills him. Without Madeline, either the world burns or Michael does.”

Her breath caught in her chest. Somehow, the thought of Michael dying was even worse than the possibile annihilation he would bring.

Maybe she was meant for hell after all…

“Regardless of the consequences, the responsibility does not lie on Maddie.” Gabriel looked back to her. “You are dead. Your soul is free. Do not waste it on the Antichrist.”

He clearly didn’t know her well enough.

“But it’s still my choice,” Maddie told him, almost regretfully. It was her responsibility. More than that, it was her privilege to be able to save the man she loved. To have a second chance at life.

“Go home, Gabe. Madeline belongs with Michael. It’s fated,” he said, lingering with mild disgust on the last words.

Gabriel’s face became pinched as he looked at Maddie and shook his head. “I truly didn’t think you would even consider losing heaven for the destroyer of earth. So now it's time for you to know what Lucifer isn’t telling you: even he can’t send you back without consequences.”

The devil in question rolled his eyes. “It’s hardly a consequence so much as a caveat.”

Her heart sank. Satan and his son were alike in far too many ways. She could picture Michael saying something along a similar vein. "What kind of caveat?"

"You see, I saved you from heaven. From being taken away from Michael, to never see him again, even when he inevitably dies. But once a soul has entered hell, they can't just leave. An order must remain."

"What kind of order?"

"The oldest of all. Balance. Hell must have its due and it is due a soul."

Maddie swallowed as she understood. "You want me to kill someone."

"While I will most certainly find it amusing to behold, it isn't so simple. To walk free, by his side, you will need to take a soul. It is the way of the world. You must give to get."

"And you're all about order."

"Indeed." Satan began circling her. "The cruelest of ironies. My son was to fall for a woman who balks at death."

"You'd rather I revel in it?"

"You are a Princess of Hell and a Queen on Earth, Madeline. Humanity is beneath you."

It wasn't. She wasn't that far gone.

This was no longer a matter of forfeiting her soul to save Michael. This was actively killing for him. Taking not just a life but sending the soul of another to hell, first class.

And the darker part of her, the part that allowed her to excuse Michael's actions, already was whispering the name of a victim.

You're better than this.

And yet…

Clearly she wasn't better. Maybe she had been, at one point in her life. Before the world had gone to shit. Or before Michael Langdon had walked into her life.

But could she really kill someone else? Even if they deserved it? 

"She won't do it," Gabriel said with certainty. "Love or not, her soul is still pure."

She closed her eyes, head spinning from the influx of information they had been throwing at her since mere moments after her death.

She had never imagined that dying would be so complicated.

Maddie looked to Satan, not caring if he would judge her as she asked, “Is there really no other way?”

To his credit, he didn’t mock her. “None.” His face did soften ever so slightly. "I don't know anything for sure, but I do believe that, without you by his side, Michael will allow the rest of the world to descend into chaos."

Madeline laughed humorlessly. "You mock my humanity, then try to appeal to it?"

"I'm banking on the notion that you're a better person than I am."

Gabriel scoffed.

It was basic utilitarianism. The good of the many outweigh the needs of the few. At least, that’s what she tried to tell herself.

The reality was that she finally understood Michael’s ruthlessness. There was not a single thing she wouldn’t do to save him. To hold him one more time and to say the words she had withheld for what now seemed like foolish reasons.

If she had to kill someone to save Michael, she would.

She would burn what was left of the Outpost to the ground.

Swallowing, she met his eyes. "What do I have to do?"

Gabriel exclaimed frustratedly. She couldn't recognize the language as he let out a trail of angry utterances, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

"Go home, Gabie. And do pass on to Father that Madeline's soul is spoken for. And if he, or his minions, target her again…” Satan’s eyes flashed red, his face turning pale. Just like Michael’s. “I will unleash a fury unlike any they have ever seen."

Gabriel glared before vanishing in a flash of light so bright she had to shield her eyes.

“We don’t have much time,” Satan said, walking over. In his hand, a black dagger manifested, etched in runes. “Mead is an android and you couldn’t kill Michael if you tried, which leaves Venable.”

Maddie wasn’t too torn up about that, but she still felt a twinge of guilt.           

“When you awake in your body, you’ll have less than a minute to cut her heart from her chest.”

“Excuse me?” Maddie said, eyes growing wide. “You said I’d have to kill her.”

“Yes.” Satan said slowly, as if speaking with a small child. “You’ll find without her heart, she will die.”

“Obviously,” Maddie snarled back. “You didn’t mention anything about cutting her heart out!”

Satan waved a hand carelessly. “You’ll be fine. That blade will cut through bone the same way it would slice a tomato.”

The comparison made her stomach lurch, but she swallowed back the nausea.

He continued, “When you have her heart, hand it to Michael. He’ll know what to do and will be able to bind your soul to his. Thus, your life will be tied to his. Regardless of any injury you sustain, he’ll be able to bring you back. But if Michael dies, you die with him. Do you understand?”

Maddie nodded, still stuck on the when you have her heart part. “I might be sick.”

“Be thankful you don’t need to bite into it.” He handed her the knife, handle first. She took it, biting her lip as the nerves crept in. “You’ll be fine,” he assured her. “Just pretend she’s livestock.”

Blinking, Maddie remarked, “That doesn’t really help me.”

Satan shrugged. “Then think of Michael and your precious humanity. Because both will fall if you fail.”

Maddie nodded, taking a deep breath into what was already a lifeless body.

Satan regarded her for a moment. “There is one last thing you must know.”

She listened expectantly.

“Another force is rising. One far more powerful than any Michael has encountered before. Perhaps the only one capable of killing him."

Maddie felt her heart drop at the news but Satan continued, not even allowing her a moment to process it.

“My son cannot know of its existence. For all his power, he is still young and this enemy has been preparing for his coming for thousands of years. He’s not ready, and if they meet now, you will both perish.”

“When you say he can’t know…”

“None of it, Madeline.” His tone left no room for interpretation. “He cannot know any of what I just told you.”

Uncomfortable with the very idea of keeping such a secret from her beloved, she asked, “Then why are you telling me?”

“Several reasons. The first...” He held up a finger. “After completing this ritual, you will be virtually immortal. Even this enemy won’t be able to kill you until Michael is killed. You’re relatively safe from him, whereas Michael is not. Second…” He held up another finger. “You have the knowledge to identify the enemy and find its weakness and third…” Another finger. “You may be the only one who can defeat it.”

She had questions. Too many questions. Who was the enemy and why wouldn’t Satan speak its name? Where was the enemy? How big was the enemy? Were they dealing with a single zealot or an army?

Were they safe at Sanctuary?

Were they safe anywhere?

And why could she defeat such an enemy if it was capable of destroying Michael?

She had no powers or abilities.

Maddie opened her mouth to begin asking but Satan spoke first.

"Remember: you have less than a minute to complete the ritual. Do not hesitate."

Before she could reply, the world went dim.

…………….

"One such as you deserves nothing." Venable spat at Michael as Maddie regained consciousness.

Her eyes flickered open, her chest suddenly heavy with breath. She was on the floor, laid carefully in place. Her cheeks were wet from tears that did not belong to her, strengthening her resolve further.

In her hand, there was a cold weight.

She looked down to find the blackened blade. In the glow of the firelight, she could make out the runes etched on it and remembered its purpose. She ignored the small wave of nausea at the thought.

"Stupid woman,” Michael replied, his voice heavy with emotion as hatred pounded through his words. “I would have killed you quickly before but now… You will burn for eternity for what you’ve done!"

Maddie rose to her feet as Venable and Mead cowered from him. Though she couldn't see his face, she knew the white-faced demon had risen.

 Fire erupted from his hands and she could feel the heat burning through the room.

"You will beg for death," he said and she could feel the pain etched in his words and it nearly made her crumble. .

But Satan's words rang clear. She didn't have much time.

Maddie reached out, placing a hand on his arm.

Michael froze, mid-sentence, becoming utterly still. His head turned slowly, almost fearfully before his red eyes landed on her before flashing back to blue in stunned disbelief. He staggered.

"While the sentiment is appreciated, my love, I do believe I have this."

He reached for her, still disbelievingly, but she dodged his touch.

There would be time for that later.

She moved past him, toward Venable and clutched the knife tighter.

"That's impossible," Venable muttered, staring at Maddie like she'd seen a ghost.

Maddie considered replying. Taunting the bitch just once before she killed her. But one nasty word would hardly make up for eighteen months of abuse.

But what was more, that wasn't who she was.

She knew Satan hoped Michael would corrupt her. The fact she had a knife in her hand was proof of that.

But while she loved Michael, there was still a line in the sand that she wouldn't cross.

Without a word, Maddie raised her chin and then the blade.

It sliced into Venable before the woman had time to take note of the weapon and she gasped, her eyes widening. Her hand shaking, Maddie cut down and around.

Satan was wrong. It was easier than slicing a tomato.

A trickle of blood formed at the edge of Venable's mouth and Maddie looked away. Wincing, she reached inside Venable's chest.

She hadn't expected it to be so warm.

Her hand searched until she found the shallowly-beating heart. Her hand closed around the organ and she yanked until it gave way with a sickening squelch.

She turned, her hands bloody as she offered the heart to Michael as Venable sank to the ground. 

His blue eyes darkened.

Michael took the knife, first. Without looking away from her, as if he was scared to even blink, he made a cut on his palm. He reached for Maddie's open hand and did the same before grasping it in his.

The knife clattered to the floor as Michael took hold of the heart, taken willingly, and began to chant. 

The words were foreign but familiar. She'd heard him speaking it before, when Michael had turned demonic the night James had attacked her. She could only guess the language was straight from hell.

As he spoke, she felt a tug on her heart. Then on her stomach. It didn't hurt, per se. Instead, it felt as though her insides were fighting an invisible war, swiping the breath from her very lungs. It pulled at her without actually causing her pain.

Her eyes grew large as she watched Michael continue until the tugging ceased. The air returned to her lungs in a gasp as she fell forward.

He caught her quickly, his arms looping around her as he pulled her tightly to his chest.

Michael continued speaking in the foreign language, although his tone had changed. No longer were his words methodical and even. Instead, there was a desperation to them as his hand covered her head and began stroking her hair.

“Madeline,” he choked out.

“I’m okay,” she promised, wrapping her arms around him in turn. “Your dad… he saved me.”

Michael held her tighter and she let him. He needed this-- assurance that she was okay.

“I thought--” his voice cracked. “I thought you were…”

“I know. I know, but I’m here. I’m safe.”

And I’m a killer.

Michael pulled back enough that he could look at her. He reached down and pulled down the scoop of her dress so he could see where the bullet had pierced her. Though her dress was still ripped and bloodstained, her skin was healed entirely. 

His fingers brushed over the spot, tenderly.

She thought of giving him an explanation-- the bylaws of the fates or whatever bullshit had saved her from immediately dying and immediately being resurrected. She thought of telling him of his father and the message she was not supposed to tell him.  

Instead, she reached up and cupped his cheek. "I love you."

Michael caught her hand, turning it and kissing the inside of her wrist, still bloodied. "I love you, Madeline."

He bent down, low enough to kiss her desperately. She could feel every ounce of fear and relief in that kiss and she wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tight.

"I thought I lost you," he whispered. 

For a moment, he had.

There was a cough from behind them.

Ms. Mead, momentarily forgotten in the excitement, remained.

"Ah," said Michael, almost as an afterthought. He blinked and Mead's eyes grew wider, her mouth opening as a flood of memories came rushing back.

Maddie turned without leaving Michael's arms, watching as the android slash surrogate mom changed.

She blinked once. Then again.

Her head tilted as she looked at them and the breath seemed to leave her nonhuman body.

"Michael?" she asked, almost in disbelief. 

"Madeline," he said softly. "Allow me to properly introduce Ms. Mead."

xxxxxxxxxx 

The halls of Outpost 3, formerly known as the Hawthorne School, was officially empty. Well, unless they counted the dead bodies that littered the floor of the library. Maddie didn't. 

The others had been suited and sent out to the first of two carriages sent to take them to Sanctuary.

Somehow, it still surprised her that he ordered two carriages. They would have all fit in one but then, she could hardly expect Michael to make it more than three hours without killing someone.

“It’s time.”

She turned, looking over her shoulder. Michael was dressed in a black radiation suit, leaning against the doorway. Somehow, he even managed to make the awkward suit look sexy. Meanwhile, she felt ridiculous in her own, even after Michael had adjusted it to magically fit perfectly. 

Maddie gave a final glance to the library.

"Do you think you'll miss it? Hawthorne was your home for a long time."

She heard his footsteps drawing near her before feeling an arm wrap around her middle. 

"Hawthorne never felt like home until the day I found you wandering this library."

She relaxed, leaning into his arms.

Michael kissed her ear. "The best of the books are packed, as are our things and your friends. There's nothing left for you here."

"No," Maddie agreed. "I suppose not."

She turned and reached for his hand. Michael took it, squeezing it meaningfully, before leading her from the library for the last time.

Maddie stepped over a body of a fallen grey, idly wondering if anyone would ever find these halls again.

Or would Outpost 3 become a tomb, lost to the ravages of time.

Truthfully, she couldn't bring herself to care.

As they walked down the empty halls towards the exit, her thoughts were otherwise occupied with the warning she had received from the Devil.

“Another force is rising. One far more powerful than any Michael has encountered before. Perhaps the only one capable of killing him.”

She glanced up at Michael, heart thudding loudly. He looked down and she wondered if he could actually hear it. 

“Are you ready, mu anassa?”

But then, there would be time to worry later.

“Michael! We’re already late!” Maddie chided as he stopped her, for the second time since leaving their suite, to kiss her.

 “It’s fashionable. It’s expected.” He kissed her neck, nipping at the exposed flesh. At her half-hearted glare, Michael sighed. “I can’t help it. You, wrapped in red silk? You can’t expect me to see such a wondrous feast and not partake.”

 Her lips upturned at the corners and she tilted her head, allowing him just a little bit closer. Her neck was already a kaleidoscope of colors with her hickies in their varying stages of fading. His wasn’t much better but whereas it made Maddie self-conscious to think of everyone looking at her and knowing exactly what she had been up to, Michael wore them with pride. Like little badges of honor.

 Maddie was half-tempted to let him continue and pick up where they left off in their suite. To carry her back or, more likely, take her in the halls of his alma mater.

 While she had wanted to go to the party when Michael had first brought it up, doubts were creeping in. There were no secrets in the Outpost. By now, everyone would know that she was fucking Langdon. Or they’d at least suspect it, even more so when she showed up on his arm.

 Michael brushed her hair back. “What’s wrong, mu anassa?”

 She looked up, meeting his eyes and gave a little shrug. “Maybe we should just head back.” Offering a small smile, she added, “After all, you said you’d rather spend the evening in bed.”

 Instead of looking excited or even aroused by the prospect, Michael frowned. “What brought this on?”

 Moderate to low self-esteem and a healthy dose of social anxiety?

 She looked down at her dress and wondered if she should have chosen something more conservative or at least a duller color. Blood red would stand out amidst purples, greys, and black. And already the attention would all be on her.

 The quiet, lonely grey that their supposed savior had taken an interest in.

 They already all thought she was sleeping with him. They had for days, but now that she actually was sleeping with him it was different. Which was stupid. It was so stupid and she knew it was stupid.

 For eighteen fucking months, those people had ignored her or belittled her. The moment she became a person of interest, they gossiped about her. It was easy to ignore from the safety of Michael’s suite but now she was walking straight into the proverbial lion’s den.

 Michael reached out, catching her chin and tilting her head back up. “Madeline?”

 Offering a small smile, she brushed it off. “You don’t want to go to this stupid party.”

 “No,” he agreed. “But you did. What changed?”

 Her cheeks flushing uncomfortably warm, she shook her head. “I feel ridiculous. Look at me. It’s the apocalypse and I’m going to a halloween party in an evening gown. Do you hear how absurd that sounds?”

 Michael’s eyes flashed red and she tried to step back, only to be trapped by his grip. In an instant, they were back to their usual blue but the frown remained.

 “You look divine. You      are     divine.”

 “I’m really not.”

 His jaw tensed, his nostrils flaring as he took a deep breath. “You are. Your life, your very creation was set into motion by the fates thousands of years ago. Your soul is as old as time while the rest of the pathetic mortals exist only as the result of happy accidents. You were created for far greater things.”

 “I’m still human, Michael,” she reminded him. This time, his eyes flashed with annoyance.

 “A semantic.”

 Snorting, Maddie added, “Kind of a big one.”

 He reached out, running a hand down her hair. “You’re not ridiculous. You’re beautiful and clever and have no reason to think otherwise. So you’re going to take my arm and arrive fashionably late to a party you’re far too good for. Have some likely god-awful champagne and cultivate a few memories to look back on from the safety of Sanctuary, where you’ll reflect back on this moment of uncertainty and wonder why you ever allowed the opinions of lessors to influence you, even for a moment.”

 And he sounded so completely sure of that, she almost believed him.

 Michael took her hand and gently maneuvered it to rest on his arm. When she had settled, he placed his hand over hers before leading her back down the hall. It seemed so much shorter than it ever had before.

 "Head high," Michael reminded her. "Remember, they're all beneath you."

 It might be easier if she actually believed that. But she didn't, so she just tightened her grip on his arm and grounded herself with his touch.

 His presence brought her far more comfort than she'd care to admit.

 It turned out he was right. Being fashionably late did have its perks. The party was already in full swing with music playing and a table covered in wines and champagnes. It was all she could do not to beeline towards it.

 But even with their lateness, they were impossible to miss. Michael was always a sight to behold but he looked like sin incarnate in his red and black get-up. Meanwhile Maddie, who had spent the past eighteen months serving the people around her, was an apocalyptic Cinderella.

 Her grip tightened again and Michael set his hand on hers, bending his head to whisper in her ear, "Don't forget to breathe,      mu anassa    ."

 Right. She took a deep breath and she looked around.

 Emily and Tim were dancing, alongside Gallant and Coco. Maddie tried not to choke when she saw Coco's hair.

 She turned towards Michael ever so slightly and murmured, "Should someone tell her that Marie Antoinette gets beheaded for flaunting her wealth?"

 "There's my girl," he quietly praised. "I wouldn't waste your breath. She still might not get it."

 The sad part was, Michael was right.

 From across the room, she saw Mallory wave from where she stood with Emma and Eric.

 "Champagne?" he asked and she nodded.

 "I'm going to go see Mal."

 Michael nodded, catching her arm before she wandered. "No matter what happens, don't leave my eyesight. And under no circumstances touch the apples."

 Maddie blinked, arching a brow.

 "Please," he amended.

 She shook her head. "Alright. But I maintain that you're being ridiculous."

 "Noted." He bent down and kissed her head.

 Maddie smiled at him before walking around the dancers to reach her fellow greys.

 "Holy shit, that dress is gorgeous!" Emma exclaimed. "Where did you get it?"

 She wasn't entirely comfortable revealing all that Michael did for her. It made Maddie worry that they were crossing just over the whore-queen line in the sand. Nevertheless, she admitted, "Michael had his entourage bring a small wardrobe from Sanctuary."

 She didn't elaborate that small meant a few dozen styles of designer-quality clothing.

 Eric's brow shot up. "Langdon's name is Michael?"

 "I wouldn't call him that to his face," Mal said.

 "Nah." Eric shook his head. "Far as I know, the man's name is Mister. Just wasn't expecting something so… normal?"

 Maddie's lips twitched. While she thought the name, and it's meaning, suited him, she understood Eric's reaction. Michael was the definition of not normal, and that was before she knew he was the Antichrist.

 "You see Coco's hair?" Mallory asked with a grin.

 "Like I could miss it." She shot a look over her shoulder at the monstrosity. "It's a look."

 "It's obnoxious."

 Maddie inclined her head. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Michael approaching and tried to withhold the automatic urge to smile.

 She felt him stop behind her, passing her a flute with a soft, "      Mu anassa    ."

 With his open hand, he wrapped his arm around her possessively, tugging Maddie to his chest.

 This display was unnecessary but it sent a message to everyone in the room.

 And while she had some minor qualms with the macho demonstration, she couldn't help but lean into his embrace. He might be telling the world that she was his, but she could send that message, too. Michael was hers.

 "I’ll give Venable this much,” Michael said in a bored tone, looking only at Maddie. “The champagne isn’t half-bad.”

 Which was about as close to a compliment as she suspected Michael could truly get.

 The fact that he was ignoring everyone around them but her, not bothering to acknowledge the presence of anyone else, should have annoyed her. But Michael had a way of making the horrendous endearing, which led her to wonder which of the two of them were more fucked up.

 “That was almost nice.”

 He shrugged, uncaring. “I am what I am."

 Maddie shook her head with a smile, bringing her glass to her lips. Only then did she notice that the others seemed stunned into silence.

 Michael's very presence was a verifiable shut up button.

 Which, while useful in most settings, was awkward as fuck at a party. Michael either didn't notice or didn't care, his fingers tracing idle circles on her hip.

 Mallory, thankfully, broke the silence.

 "You missed the excitement earlier. Venable came up with a handful of records and Emily tore her a new one for hiding them away. It was awesome."

 Maddie smirked, glancing over to where Venable stood with Ms. Mead. She blinked, realizing it was the first time she had seen the latter knowing who and what she was.

 She spared a glance to Michael, whose face held the same impassive smirk it always did when they were in public.

 But then, this wasn't the first time he had run into Ms. Mead while at Sanctuary. He'd spoken to her, all the while never giving away a thing.

 It made her heart ache, knowing what he had gone through all alone.

 She placed her own open hand over his and gave a small squeeze as she looked back to Mal. "I would have paid to see that."

 "It was awesome," Emma piped up, even as she nervously glanced at Michael. "Her face did that pinched thing and she tried to say she just 'stumbled' across them."

 "Yeah, right " Mal shook her head.

 "Oh shit, she's coming over."

 "Disperse."

 Maddie downed her drink as the other greys immediately vacated and went to follow, only for Michael to tighten his grip.

 "Nice try," he whispered into her ear.

 "I'm so going to get you for this," she hissed back, only to flash a smile as the HBIC approached. "Ms. Venable."

 "I'm so pleased you both could make it," she said, her voice sickly sweet.

 "Of course." Michael's tone matched the fake-quality of Venable'a with a practiced ease. "We wouldn't want to miss your… understated festivities."

 Her face pinched. "Yes, well, we have quite the evening planned. Music, games. Bobbing for apples."

 "How quaint."

 In her entire life, Maddie had never heard two people be so polite in their utter disdain.

 If Michael hadn't nuked the globe, he would have made a hell of a politician.

 Venable tried to smile through the tightness of her face. "Madeline, you must be sure to try the apples from Sanctuary. They're quite wonderful."

 Michael's fingers bit into her side at the comment. "We ate before we came," he said shortly. He tugged Maddie away. "If you'll excuse us."

 Maddie allowed Michael to drag her to the side, staying silent until they were out of earshot. "What was that?"

 "Nothing," he replied through gritted teeth.

 "Michael."

 "Don't touch the apples."

 "I heard you the first time."

 "Promise me, Madeline," he growled, staring at her intensely.

 Maddie blinked back up at him, nodding. "Okay, I promise. You want to share what you did to those fucking apples, O Antichrist?"

 "Don't worry about it."

 Maddie snorted. "You're lucky you're so damn cute, otherwise you'd be super annoying."

 "I'm also rather charming," he added, flashing his smile, as if the moment had never happened.

 One day, that whiplash was certain to kill her…

 Because just like that, it was over. Michael ran a hand down her cheek, tilting her chin up to look at him. “Have I told you this hour how utterly beautiful you are?”

 He lowered his head to brush his lips against hers.

 Maddie hummed. “You’re trying to distract me.”

 His fingers trailed down her neck. “Is it working?”

 All too well.

 Her lips curled into a small smile and she brought her champagne close to her lips, finishing what was left of the drink and preventing Michael from kissing her again. She was acutely aware of the stares from all around the room, watching every move they made.

 “Is it always like this for you?” she asked, fearing the answer.

 “Like what?”

 “Center of attention, even when you’re off to the sides?”

 Michael simply shrugged. “You get used to it.”

 “Somehow, I doubt that.” Maddie let her eyes wander.

 Venable was watching them with an assessing glare. Coco’s was much more menacing, allowing her jealousy to color her expression. Dinah and Andre, who were dancing together, took turns looking their way and Ms. Mead, standing on the far side of the room, watched without blinking.

 Had she started to recognize Michael? Although he assured her that Ms. Mead wouldn’t know him until he was ready, her gaze wasn’t as dark as Venable’s. Rather, it was only curious.

 Again, she felt a hand on her face, turning her back towards Michael. “Eyes on me.” When their eyes met, he smiled. “View’s much better now, isn’t it?”

 Maddie sighed, setting her hand on his chest. “I’m going to have to get used to the fact that my man has an ego the size of Everest, aren’t I?”

 The empty flute was taken from her hand and set on a nearby table as Michael stepped forward. Maddie instinctively took a step back, finding herself pinned to the wall. Michael’s hands found their way to her hips.

 “I’m your man?”

 She blinked. “What? You think you’re the only one allowed to be possessive in this relationship?”

 But it wasn’t that, she realized as soon as she spoke the words. For all his confidence, despite his ego, Michael had never really been accepted. Not by his father or his various caretakers and those who hadn’t shunned him had wanted something from him.

 Something as small as a single pronoun would mean everything to him.

 "Yeah," she said softly, unable to stop herself from cupping his cheek. "You're my man."

 Michael placed his hand over hers, turning it gently and bringing it to his lips for the softest of kisses.

 Ever the gentleman.

 "Do you dance,      mu anassa    ?"

 Maddie shook her head. "Believe it or not, there wasn't enough space in the library to ever learn."

 Michael snorted, stepping closer and pulling her hand up to his shoulder while taking her other in hand. "It's easy," he promised.

 "Says the man made expert in everything."

 He guided her gently back towards the dance floor. "Don't you trust me?"

 "Against all reason."

 Michael smirked, lifting their hands together.

 "This is going to end badly," she added in a whisper.

 "Hush." Michael slid his hand from her waist to the small of the back. "I've got you."

 And he did. He held her so close that she had no choice but to follow his lead, carefully directing her into a slow waltz. Like everything else, it seemed, Michael was an expert.

 “You learn this in hell?” she asked, suitably impressed by the ease in which he led her.

 Michael smirked at the prospect. “My father finds dancing to be all too human. He would never stoop to such lows. No, I learned to dance at Hawthorne.”

 Maddie chewed on pointing out the obvious-- that despite Satan’s distaste for all things human, he had procreated with one. And while Michael wasn’t entirely human, he was raised as such. She withheld, if only for the sake of Michael’s relationship with his father, even if it was entirely manipulative.

 Still, the idea of having a personal grudge against Satan was oddly amusing.

 With an ease that astounded her, Michael released his hold around her long enough to step back and twirl her beneath his arm. It happened so quickly she hadn’t even realized what had happened until she was back in his embrace.

 “Is there anything you can’t do?”

 “Very little,” he admitted. “That which I don’t know, I tend to pick up quickly. The one thing I’ve never been able to master is dogs.”

 “Dogs?” she repeated, making sure she heard him right.

 He inclined his head in a partial shrug. “They hate me. Always have, ever since I was a toddler. Even hellhounds dislike me, although I suspect I'm too human for them."

 It made sense, in a weird roundabout way. Like in horror movies, how dogs could sense evil.

 "I'm more of a cat person anyway," she told him and watched in adoration as his face visibly softened.

 The dichotomy of his angel exterior which cloaked the pale-faced demon was extraordinary. To know that both became tender when he gazed at her was… everything.

 She swallowed, moving her hand from his shoulder to the back of his neck. Her fingers gently massaged him as stared into his deep cerulean eyes.

  "Let's get out of here "

 "Really?" Michael asked, visibly perking up.

 Maddie smiled softly with the knowledge he really hadn't wanted to go to the stupid party but he had for her.

 "Yeah, baby. Let's go."

 He smiled that killer smile and her heart skipped a beat.

 "Alright,      mu anassa    . Can you tell Mallory to head to our chambers? I'll let the dipshit-lovebirds know."

 "Be nice," she warned, reaching up on her toes to kiss his cheek.

 "Work, work, work," he drolled, holding her hand until she moved out of reach, their fingers brushing along the way.

 Maddie slipped through the crowd towards where Mallory was standing with the other greys, drinking champagne. Her cheeks were rosy and her eyes glazed.

 Maddie bit back a smile as Mallory waved.

 She gestured with her head off to the side and Mal slipped away.

 "What's up," Mal said with a lazy grin.

 "You hammered?"

 "Only a little. I used to be able to down a bottle of wine by myself. Now two and a half glasses have the world spinning."

 Maddie laughed, well aware of the feeling.

 "Michael wants to talk to the Sanctuary people. You think you can walk to our room?"

 "If I can't, I'll crawl."

 Anything to get away from Outpost 3. Honestly, Maddie was surprised that Michael hadn't done something in the style of Fear Factor, pinning them against each other like contestants on a game show. Seeing who would commit the most vile acts to gain entry to safety.

 She considered asking why he chose the interviews as his method but was afraid of giving him ideas for the future.

 She reached out and squeezed Mallory's hand.

 After eighteen months, they were finally getting out.

 "I'll meet you upstairs."

 Mal nodded and Maddie turned back in time to see Emily and Tim holding hands as they rushed out the library doors.

 Michael stood by the doorway, arms folded across his chest as watched her from across the room.

 A stoic form, he looked like a statue. Carved from marble, chiseled to perfection. So handsome her heart could barely take it.

 And that damned smirk…

 It was going to be the death of her.

 In an instant, it seemed to vanish. Maddie felt herself from, unconsciously mirroring him as she noticed Venable approaching Michael.

 She quickened her steps back across the room, fearing yet another altercation.

 The damn bitch just wouldn't fucking quit. She was tenacious, Maddie would give her that much.

 "Are you sure you can't stay just a little bit longer?"

 "Yes."

 Maddie tried not to smile at the certainty and distaste baked into that little world.

 “We were just about to begin the festivities. Surely, you can spare another half hour or so.”

 “Alas, we cannot.” Michael straightened as she reached them, offering his arm. Maddie slipped next to him, wrapping her arm in his and placing her hand on top. “Are you ready, mu anassa?”

 She nodded her affirmation and watched as Venable, seemingly inclined to push Michael’s buttons, opened her mouth to argue.

 “Ms. Venable,” Ms. Mead interjected, approaching from the side. “It will be fine. We have more than enough participants. We can always deliver what is left after the party."

 Venable's face pinched but she inclined her head. "Yes. I suppose so. Do enjoy yourselves."

 Without another world, Michael led her away from the library.

 As they walked away,  a strange sense of melancholy filled Maddie at the thought that she might never see it again. It had been her refuge. The one spot of light within the harshness of Outpost 3. And while she had far from enjoyed her time there, the Outpost had kept her safe.

 Michael reached for her chin, slowing to a stop as he angled her face up. "You won't miss it," he promised, as if he could read her thoughts. Maybe he could. "I'll give you so much to look forward to that you never dwell on the past."

 Her lips curled in a smile.

 "I have no doubts." Again, she rose to her toes to kiss him, slipping her hand into his hair, under his ponytail.

 Michael's eyes closed as she pulled him down to deepen the kiss. His arms surrounded her and he stepped forward, forcing her to move backwards until her back collided with the wall.

 The stones were ice cold but it soothed the constant, burning ache that arose in Michael’s presence.

 He lifted her, pinning her to the wall.

 Maddie wrapped a leg around him, all she could manage in the confines of her dress.

 "My perfect queen," he growled in her ear. "I should take you right here. Let your screams echo to the library.”

 She moaned at the thought and the act of rebellion within. To disregard the rules so brazenly after toeing the line for so long, she was tempted to let him, even to beg him.

 But there were three people waiting outside Michael’s quarters and the faster they dealt with them and Michael completed his work, the faster they could fall into bed.

 “We have people waiting for us,” she reminded him.

 “And?”

 Her precious Antichrist would stall the world for her, she was certain.

 She leaned forward, resting her forehead against his.

 “Come on, Michael,” she said, letting her leg drop from around him even as he kept her pinned in place. “The sooner we get rid of them, the sooner you can ravish me.”

 That seemed to motivate him.

 He set her down gently and wrapped an arm around her shoulders in a casual display of affection. She reached up to entwine their fingers as they continued the walk through the long hallways.

 “Will you miss this place?” she asked. After all, Michael had spent several years at the school in his youth. Had learned to control his powers within those walls, had learned some semblance of acceptance.

 Michael scoffed. “Hardly. The only thing I need from here I will be taking with me.”  

  Even when he wasn’t trying, he had her utterly charmed.

 She let him lead her back up to their suite, where the others gathered outside, silently. Maddie felt her cheeks flush as they looked up, simultaneously, the moment she and Michael came into view.

 Showing up late with swollen lips and disheveled hair, she could only imagine how they looked to the others.

 Michael kept his head high, not even slowing as he approached the suite. He opened the door fluidly, as if they were alone. He walked over to his desk before releasing Maddie at its side before going to stand behind his chair, taking command of the room.

 “Close the door,” he said to Tim, who filed in last.

 When it shut, Michael began.

 “Congratulations,” he said in a tone of vague boredom. “You’ve officially been selected to come to Sanctuary.”

 Mallory smiled nervously as shock seemed to overcome both Emily and Tim, their eyes wide at the pronouncement.

 Tim recovered first. “Wait, are you serious?”

 Michael raised a brow, like he was almost offended that Tim suggested he was capable of joking. “Quite. We leave first thing in the morning so pack tonight. If you aren’t at the control chamber by nine, we leave without you.”

 That was their ultimate compromise.

 Emily glanced at Maddie curiously. While Tim was likely certain they had got in on their own merit, Emily was smarter than that. She was one of the few members of Sanctuary that could probably see that there was something not entirely normal about Michael. But Em was also smart enough not to say shit that would make them lose that chance.

 “Emily,” Michael said, capturing her attention. “You said you were studying engineering before the blasts.”

 “Uh, yes. I was.”

 “Unlike this Outpost, everyone at Sanctuary is expected to have a job, regardless of status.”

 “I have no issue with working, sir.”

 “Good. We have a team working on converting radiation to stored energy to help keep Sanctuary powered. I’ll have you placed under one of the team leaders to continue your education and work.”

 Emily’s mouth dropped open in surprise before she shook herself of it. “Yes, of course. Thank you, Mister Langdon.”

 Michael inclined his head to her before looking at Tim. “You were still in high school.”

 Tim grimaced. “Yes, sir.”

 “What did you plan to study before the blasts?”

 “I wanted to be a nurse.”

 Michael nodded. “We have a great number of medical professionals you can apprentice under.”

 Tim’s expression changed to one of pure joy as he looked back to Emily with a grin. Maddie couldn’t help but smile, too.

 “Thank you, Mister Langdon!”

 “You should both head to your rooms. Pack and prepare. And don’t be late.”

 “We won’t.” Emily promised, taking Tim’s hand as they left, leaving only Mallory left with them.

 Before he could ask, Mallory’s face turned pink. “I’ve only ever been a personal assistant. There’s not much else I know how to do.”

 Michael walked around his desk, moving closer to Maddie. He slipped an arm around her without taking his eyes off Mallory.

 “Did you enjoy being a personal assistant?”

 “I mean, mostly. I did before I ended up with Coco, but even then… yeah. I did enjoy it.”

 “Good,” Michael said and Maddie glanced up at him, unsure where he was going with this. “When we return to Sanctuary, there will be a great many events and functions that Madeline will need to attend with me. I would feel significantly better if she had someone to help her keep track of things and get prepared.”

 It was Maddie’s turn for surprise. “Are you serious?” she asked.

 “I’ll get to be Maddie’s personal assistant?”

 “Between your own personal quests to record languages before they’re lost and everything else I imagine you’ll get yourself into, you’ll already have a lot on your plate. And I still will want your company at events as often as possible. Mallory will be able to help you manage everything.”

 A part of her wanted to protest the decision being made without her but, as she looked to Mallory and saw the excitement on her friend’s face, she couldn’t bring herself to. And Michael likely knew that as well, judging by the sparkle in his eye.

 Bastard.

 She nodded, looking back to Mallory. “Guess you’re really stuck with me now.”

  Mallory beamed. "I won't let you down."

 "I'm certain you won't," Michael said, with only the smallest hint of a threat. "Are you packed?"

 "Yes, sir."

 "Good. Rest up and be prepared to leave first thing."

 Michael’s ability to dismiss people was damn near impressive but it still made her wary. Save his obvious exception, he really couldn’t give a damn who lived and who died. And while he was content to indulge her, a part of Maddie wondered if he would still be so kind if it didn’t benefit him directly.

 She was with a man quite literally incapable of empathy.

 That was so easy to forget when they were alone and he was doting on her.

 But despite being physically flawless, he was far from perfect. No one was, although Michael's lack of empathy and belief that everyone was beneath him set him apart from those with much more minor difficulties. Like a partner who wouldn't do the dishes or snored through the night.

     And this is who you’ve chosen to love.  

 She inhaled sharply. Love.

 Fuck. When had it reached such extremes?

 Wasn't it enough to just adore the other person or did it always have to descend into the chaos of heart?

 But then, she wondered, could she truly be with a man as selfish and uncompromising as Michael if she didn't love him completely?

 "Finally alone," Michael murmured, totally oblivious to her silent epiphany.

 She hummed in agreement, wrapping her arms around his middle and hugging him tightly.

 It was too soon for the words, she decided as she snuggled against him. And they'd had enough ups and downs for one week. But soon, she would tell him.

 When the dust settled. When      they     settled. Because there was no doubt in her mind any longer.

 Against reason and ethics, she was in love with a man capable of terrible things.

 So she hugged him tighter, burying her face in his chest. Maddie breathed in his rich, spicy scent, reveling in the way he cupped her head.

 She leaned back to look up at him. "How much work do you have left tonight?"

 "Very little. Just need to finalize the assigned jobs."

 Maddie nodded and bit her lip. The last thing she wanted was to start a fight, especially after her realization but she wouldn't be herself if she didn't argue.

 "You know I'm going to insist on a job, too, right?"

 "Is putting up with me not a full-time job in itself?"

 She smacked him playfully. "I'm serious."

 "I know. And while I will respectfully ask you to take at least a few days to adjust to Sanctuary, I am well aware that you would be miserable without work."

 Maddie blinked her surprise. "You're being shockingly reasonable about this."

 "I'm learning to compromise," he noted proudly.

     Yeah    , she thought, feeling her heart constrict at his words.      I love this manipulative, arrogant bastard.  

 "Are you now?" she asked, careful not to let the emotion leak into her words.

 “Indeed. I’ve found it to be a surprisingly effective tool.”

 She ignored that particular comment. “So I’ll get to work?”

 His lips turned upward in a small smile. “Prior to the end of the world, I began collecting precious artifacts, works of literature, and art. There’s an entire wing filled with such. Well-preserved, but unmaintained and      uncatalogued    .”

 Maddie hadn’t even realized her mouth was hanging open, her mind already racing with the possibilities. What kind of artifacts? From where? And what, exactly, did he mean by literature? Collections like in a library or works that belonged in a museum, much like the artifacts themselves?

 And, as the Antichrist who caused the end of the world, what had Michael sought to save? What had he valued enough to deem worthy of surviving into the next era?

 And how much, exactly, fit into a wing?

 “It’s yours,” he said softly, pushing a lock of her hair back behind her ear.

 She looked up at him, questions fading as she met his eyes. Pure tenderness, mixed with the smallest hint of pride that he could provide this for her. His almost boyish desire to please her was shining through.

 Her gaze dipped down, trailing his body before meeting his eyes again. “Get your paperwork done so I can jump you.”

 His lips twitched. “You could jump me now.”

 She shook her head. “Nope. Because the second I start with you, I’m not going to stop. So get your damn paperwork done so I can fuck you.”

 Michael smirked, bending to kiss her head. “Whatever my queen commands.”

 He settled over at his desk while Maddie took the armchair by the fire. Her book, from earlier, was still there.

 A gift from Michael, directly from Sanctuary. A collection of plays by Aristophanes, in its original Greek. The book itself predated copyright rules, with no direct indication of the year it had been published. Based on the binding and the thickness of the paper, she would guess mid-eighteenth century, though she couldn’t be certain.

 She opened it up to where she left off. It was wonderful to have something new to read after months of the same damn texts over and over again.

 He’d gifted it to her over breakfast along with a copy of Plato’s Dialogues. She’d nearly cried; she’d been so overcome with emotion.

 Like the journal, she cherished the books. Her finger trailed the outside of the page while she read, reveling in the living history in her hands.

 Suddenly, the door opened, breaking the silence.

 Maddie looked up from her book only to see Venable and Ms. Mead, the latter closing the door behind them.

 Maddie glanced at Michael who seemed to tense at the intrusion.

 “Madeline,” he said, voice filled with utter calm. “Go to the bedroom.” He then turned to Ms. Mead and Ms. Venable. “Ladies, I’m a little busy right now formulating my selections.”

 “This won’t take long,” Ms. Venable said, stepping further into the room, her cane loudly echoing on the floor.

 “Now, Madeline.” Michael closed the lid to his laptop, never taking his eyes from Venable.

 Maddie closed the book and pushed to her feet.

 “I wouldn’t, if I were you,” Ms. Venable said and, as if on cue, Ms. Mead pulled out a handgun.

 Maddie felt the breath leave her at the sight, her eyes straying to Michael. With a small, almost unnoticeable gesture of his hand, he told her to wait.

 “We’re making the selections now, Mister Langdon. And I’m afraid you didn’t make the cut.”

 Michael chuckled although Maddie could detect no trace of humor. His eyes were calculating, taking in everything around them as he taunted, “I’m sorry. I wanted to let you have your moment, but I just couldn’t hold it in…”

 Maddie closed her eyes, biting her tongue and the urge to tell Michael to back the fuck down from the crazy ladies with the gun. The Antichrist or not, she wasn’t entirely sure just how immortal he was and she really, really didn’t want to have to find out.

 Then it occurred to her: in taunting them, he was purposefully trying to take the attention away from her.

 She tried not to shudder at the thought.

 “You think this is funny?”

 Michael tilted his head. “I think I’m impressed, Ms. Venable. I wasn’t sure you had it in you.” Michael rose to his feet. “You’ve passed the test. You’re perfect for the Sanctuary.”

 But even as he said the words she could tell that Venable didn’t buy it. Or if she did, she no longer cared what Michael thought.

 With his hand at his side, Michael casually pushed it away from his body and Maddie recognized it for what he was telling her.

 Leave. While the attention was on him.

 Her heart stuttered in her chest.

 While a part of her whispered that Michael could handle it, that he would be fine, the thought of leaving him like this was impossible. Even as she tried to move her feet, she couldn’t bear to step away and leave him alone.

 He gestured again.

 Her fist curled into her hand, her nails biting at her palm as she willed herself to step away. To let the Antichrist do what he did best.

 “Ah ah ah,” Venable said, turning to Maddie. “Your little pet will stay.”

 Michael’s eyes flashed but he stilled his hand and inclined his head.

 “An interesting thing happened to me the other night,” Ms. Venable explained. “I had a strange dream. A man in white came to me to warn me of a great evil-- an angel. At first, I truly believed it to only be a dream. But then it happened again. And again. And then came yesterday morning.” Venable shook her head. “I know now that you are the inhuman evil that being spoke of. And when I went to sleep last night, the angel came to me again and he told me that there was only one way to defeat such a dark force.”

 Maddie looked from Michael to Venable.

 Was it possible? Was it real?

 The total lack of humor on Michael’s face told her that it was serious.

 She looked at Ms. Mead.

 Michael had said that he could make her remember. Why hadn’t he made her remember yet?

 The woman had a gun and it was pointing at him.

 Michael raised a brow, appearing nonplussed to anyone who didn’t know him. “You think that can kill me?”

 “Oh, I know that a gun is quite useless when it comes to you.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a handgun of her own. She clicked the safety off. “And while my poisoned apples killed the others...”

 Maddie gasped at the realization, looking back at Michael.

 He had warned her not to touch them. He knew?

 Venable continued, “They really wouldn’t harm you, would they?”

 “I’m afraid I’m immune to such toxins.”

 “A shame. But then, you’re far more human than you’d like to believe.”

 Michael blinked, tilting his head in uncertainty. For the first time since Venable appeared, he actually looked unsure.

 “And every human,” Venable continued, raising her gun towards Michael. “Has a weakness.”

 Before anyone could blink, she extended her arm and turned, firing.

 “No!” screamed Michael, raising his hand to stop her but his powers did not rise at his command.

 He stood for a moment, stunned, as the bullet continued along its trajectory and pierced through Maddie’s chest.

 She stumbled back in surprise, before slumping against the wall and falling towards the floor. Michael raced forward, catching her before she crashed.

 “No, no, no,” he muttered, turning her in his arms.

 But she was utterly limp and lifeless eyes stared back at him.

 “NO!” he screamed again, in utterly agony. “No, Madeline, no.”

 He raised a shaking hand over her chest, willing the bullet to rise and her heart to beat.

 It didn’t work.

 “Why isn’t it working?” he whispered, trying again only to be met with the same result.

 Vitam vitalus. He had done this a thousand times.

 “Why the fuck isn’t it working?” he cried out, closing his eyes and feeling a tear leak out as he willed her back again.

 But it was too late. He could feel, already, that her soul was gone.

“I just thought of something,” Maddie said softly, her head in the crook of his neck, idly tracing patterns on his chest. Their legs were tangled together beneath the sheet he had summoned when she had shivered.

After several more rounds of intense lovemaking, including a brief twenty minute respite where Michael insisted on feeding her, she was more than content to just lay in his arms. Not for the first time, it struck her just how much of a cuddler Michael Langdon, Antichrist extraordinaire, was.

But then, on second thought, it shouldn’t. He’d been abandoned so many times as a child, he probably craved the comfort from holding one another more than anything. She kissed his collarbone.

“Then I must not have done it right,” Michael teased. “You shouldn’t still be able to think.”

His words had the intended effect and she laughed, burying her head into his shoulder. “You’re terrible.”

“Yes.” A simple truth if ever there was one. And yet, he thought to himself, he couldn’t be too terrible if she was there with him. He ran a hand idly down her naked back. “What were you thinking, mu anassa?” 

He felt her sigh. “I’m supposed to be your balance. But I’m not perfectly good.”

Michael barely resisted the urge to snort. “Yes, I keep forgetting about all the times you trespassed in the library.”

“A habit I’ve made all my life.”

He kissed her head. “Breaking and entering aside, little one, you do err on the side of goodness. I strongly suspect before the apocalypse, small woodland creatures followed you around to help you with little tasks. I’m picturing sunshine and rainbows.”

Maddie huffed dramatically. “Just because I don’t commit war crimes when I’m bored doesn’t mean I’m perfect. My thoughts sure as hell aren’t pure and I can be nasty when the occasion calls for it.”

“I’ll be sure to alert what’s left of the media. Angel on Earth Suspected of Having Rude Inner Dialogue.”

She slapped his chest lightly and Michael was very careful in not pointing out that her gentleness was doing nothing but proving his point.

“I’m just saying,” she continued. “There are plenty of people who are nicer than I am. Like Mallory.”

This time, he couldn’t withhold the snort. “Mallory is also a pushover. She still can’t look me in the eyes.” Michael reached down to her chin, tilting her head up so she could look at him. “And remember-- Mary Magdalene wasn’t evil. She was just a woman who didn’t fit into the traditional, puriticantical Christian ideal. It’s not perfectly formulaic. Like everything, it’s about balance. The kindest woman in the old world probably couldn’t stand up to me the way you do. And kind has never equated to good, anyway.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“You’ll find that’s often the case,” he noted unapologetically. He loved the way she rolled her eyes, so utterly at ease with him. The idea that she felt safe with him, knowing all he was capable of, was humbling. 

“We might need a bigger bed. I’m not sure there’s enough room for the both of us and your ego.”

Michael felt his lips twitch and he locked his arms around her before flipping Madeline to her back and rolling on top of her. She gasped, then laughed as he began pressing kisses to her neck.

Maddie wrapped her hand in his hair and guided his face up to hers. She kissed his lips and smiled up at him.

"Don't you have interviews to get to?" she asked.

"Fuck them."

He dipped his head down to kiss her again but she placed a hand on his chest, stopping him.

"You said last night that you wanted to finish up here quickly."

"I'd much rather make you finish. Again." He punctuated his words with a kiss. "And again. And again."

"Believe it or not, I'll be here later." Maddie made a disgruntled face and glared up at him. "Especially considering that someone burned my clothes."

He grinned at the memory of the dress going up in flames.

She backhanded his chest. "Now you're definitely not getting to finish me again. Or again."

Michael leaned down and pressed a final kiss to her head. 

"Fine," he sighed. "Mallory's been pacing in the hall for the last five minutes anyway."

Her eyes widened. "Michael!"

"What?"

"You didn't think to say anything?"

"It isn't like she knocked. She's just pacing back and forth, trying to figure out how to politely ask me if I killed you."

She smacked him again. "Shit!" Maddie stood, wrapping the sheet around her. "I don't suppose you'll go ask her to bring me another dress?"

He rolled his eyes. "I won't apologize for burning it. Your dress personally offended me." He cut her off before she could protest. "But I would not leave you without clothes. I am the only one who gets the privilege of seeing you like this."

He summoned the chest that Dan had brought to the end of their bed.

"I asked Sanctuary to send an assortment of styles. There will be more when we return home."

She raised a skeptical brow as she unlatched and opened the chest.opened the trunk. He watched her expression transform to one of utter shock. Not surprising, considering the only thing she’d had to wear for the last year and a half was a grey dress that buttoned up to her neck and an apron he only wished he’d had the opportunity to burn.

His people had done well for her and he would make certain they were rewarded.

Slacks, skirts, blouses, and dresses of varying casualness. She’d have options.

He summoned his own clothes as he stood, walking over to her.

“Fuck, Michael.” she murmured, sifting through an array of sweaters.

“I can change the colors, adjust the size…” he circled an arm around her as he stepped just behind her.

“When did you do all this?”

“While you were sleeping, after your interview.” Michael kissed her neck.

She shuddered a laugh, shaking her head. “Thank you,” she told him, turning to offer a kiss. He accepted, tugging the sheet down from her body as he rolled her around in his arms. His hands explored her nakedness as she kissed him softly.

After a minute, Maddie pushed him away playfully. “Now will you please go let Mallory in before Venable catches her?”

Michael sighed, rolling his eyes. “Fine.”

He left her to pick out something to wear. And while he was hopeful that she would go with the negligee, he couldn’t help but be curious exactly what she would pick after going so long without choices.

That he could give that to her made him smile like a fool. He would spoil her so badly that she couldn’t even consider leaving as an option. She would be entirely his as much as he already was hers.

He hid his smile as he reached the door. He slid it open and watched as Mallory nearly jumped out of her shoes. Her eyes were wide, reminding him of a baby deer, too terrified to move out of the way of a speeding car.

“Mallory,” he greeted. “Why don’t you come in?”

She was momentarily too stunned to speak before she seemed to shake herself of the initial shock. “Th-thank you, Mister Langdon.”

And while he appreciated the respect in the form of fear, it would get old quickly if Madeline wanted to keep her friend.

She entered the study and Michael closed the door behind her.

“What brings you by?” he asked, as if he didn’t know. Madeline told him to bring Mallory in. She didn’t say he had to be nice about it. 

“Ms. Venable said… I mean, I…” she took a breath to compose herself. “Is Maddie safe?”

Fuck.

For all her fear and insecurity, Mallory had allowed herself into the belly of the beast to check on her friend. And while he didn’t want to respect anyone who was so twitchy, her loyalty was admirable. The fact that it was directed towards Madeline made his heart warm.

Love was doing disgusting things to him.

What was more, though he had every urge to mislead her and play up not knowing what happened to Madeline, just to watch her squirm and cower in fear, his queen would be disappointed. She would want him to behave, even if he couldn’t be nice.

He frowned, uncomfortable with the very idea of doing something to alleviate another’s pain.

“Yes. She’ll be out momentarily.”

Mallory nodded but the tension still seemed to be there, like she didn’t fully trust him. Smart girl.

He stood there uncomfortably, not sure how to make small talk that wasn’t actively undermining the other participant. 

Luckily, he heard footsteps and Madeline saved him from the awkwardness of silence.

She’d chosen a simple sundress that fell to her knees with a cardigan draped over it. Michael had the sudden desire to tell Mallory to come back later, push Madeline into the wall, and fuck her here senseless.

Mallory rushed at Maddie, throwing her arms around her, effectively blocking Michael's plans. Another promise for later.

"Thank God you're alright," Mallory said. Maddie glanced at Michael with her friend's choice in words. He just rolled his eyes, looking vaguely miffed, but not homicidal. How sick was she that she considered that a win? "Venable said James was dead and implied you were the same."

Although the touch made her a little uncomfortable, Maddie hugged Mallory. “I’m fine. You know Venable can’t be trusted.”

“I know. But you weren’t there this morning and no one had seen you since last night.”

Maddie patted her friend on the back, carefully stepping away. “I was here last night. Michael got into it this morning with Venable,” she threw him a look. Michael looked oddly offended, going as far as to put a hand on his chest as if to say Who? Me? “And it was decided that I won’t be able to help for the next few days. I’m sorry you’ll have extra work.”

Mallory shook her head. “Don’t even worry about it. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Mallory,” Michael said and Maddie didn’t miss the way her friend tensed. “Would you be able to pack up Madeline’s things and bring them here at some point today?”

“Oh, yes. Of course.” Mallory looked back at Maddie. “Do you want them now?”

Frowning, Maddie shook her head at Michael. “I can pack up my own things. And before you start,” she said as he opened his mouth. “This is not an argument you can win.”

As he rolled his eyes, she wondered if they would ever get stuck. “With supervision,” he relented.

Maddie folded her arms. “I don’t need supervision to pack my books.”

“Venable is still pissed and, while I doubt she would be stupid enough to try and harm you after this morning, I will not take that chance.” At her continued frown, Michael added, “Compromise, Madeline.”

Her lips twitched until she finally smiled. “Fine,” she replied, using the same tone he had earlier. “But don’t you have interviews to complete?”

“I can delay them.”

“You’ve delayed them enough,” she said pointedly. Michael’s lips twitched at the reference to their morning activities. He thoroughly disagreed with her assessment. He hadn’t delayed them enough.

Still, he walked over to the desk and opened his laptop. He leaned down to type, quickly composing something before straightening back up.

Before she could ask what was going on, there was a knock on the door.

“Enter,” Michael called.

It opened and an unknown man walked in. He stood as tall as anyone she had ever seen, probably approaching six and a half feet. He was built like a football player, tall and wide. His hair was cropped short, making him look more like a soldier than a linebacker. Like Dan, he wore all black. The only touch of color was the buttons of his jacket, which were embroidered with red satanic runes.

“Mister Langdon,” he greeted.

Michael inclined his head in acknowledgement. “Madeline, this is Jax. He’ll be your escort when I’m unable to accompany you out.”

Maddie stared at him incredulously as Mallory gasped beside her. She took a deep breath to look at Jax. “Hello, Jax. It’s nice to meet you.” Her head swung back to Michael. “You say escort but what you mean is bodyguard, don’t you?”

“I meant what I said: I will take no chances when it comes to your safety.”

She hummed. “Darling, you might be straddling the line of being overprotective."

“You almost sound surprised,” Michael drolled.

Sighing, Maddie shook her head. "Alright. Although I want it known that I find this completely unnecessary, bordering on ridiculous."

"Noted." Michael came back around the desk, looking at Jax. "Summon me immediately if there are any issues."

"Yes, sir, Mister Langdon."

Michael turned to Maddie. "If, for any reason, Jax gives you an order-- follow it. It will only be for your safety.”

She raised her brow, offering a mocking salute. “Yes, sir,” she mimicked.

Michael shook his head, catching her chin and tilting her face up towards his. “Behave,” he ordered softly, without any real annoyance. He was pretty certain that Jax’s eyes would be bugging out of his head at the exchange but the demon was smart enough not to say anything. Likewise, Mallory was trying very hard to look anywhere but at them.

“I’m not so good at that.”

“Try,” he said, bending down to kiss her.

He once found such displays of affection in public uncouth, even disgusting. Now, he was unable to stop himself from touching her, kissing her.

Michael wrapped an arm around Madeline, angling her back to his chest as he looked at Mallory. 

"We leave for Sanctuary first thing on Saturday. Have your things packed and ready to go."

Mallory's eyes widened to the point where Maddie wondered if they actually might pop out. She seemed to get ahold of herself, though. "Yes, Mister Langdon. Thank you, Mister Langdon."

He inclined his head before turning his attention back to Maddie.

“If you have a bad feeling, trust it and come back.”

She held up two fingers, crossed in a promise. He tightened his arm around her and kissed her head. “I’ll see you soon, mu anassa.”

Maddie nodded and headed for the door. “This way,” she told Jax as he and Mallory followed her out.

The halls were empty. Given the time, Maddie assumed that most of the purples would be congregated in the library while the greys cleaned up from lunch and began daily tasks. It was strange to be apart from it, to feel separate from what had been her life for eighteen months.

There was a small twinge of guilt that she wasn’t there to help but was overwhelmed by the feelings of relief that it was over.

“Holy shit,” Mallory murmured as they walked up the stairs towards their quarters.

"Breathe," Maddie reminded her.

"How did you pull that off?" Mallory asked.

"What?"

Her friend shot her an unconvincing look. "Come on. Langdon would not be taking me to Sanctuary for the hell of it. Did you ask him?"

She shook her head. "Didn't have to. He asked me if I wanted you there. Obviously, I said yes."

Mallory stared at her as they walked, in total awe. "He really does care for you. I mean, I was pretty sure he did. But Mister Langdon’s just so… different around you.”

Maddie felt herself smiling softly as she thought of him. “I suppose he is.”

And Mallory didn't even know the half of it. She wondered how that conversation would go, since Michael made it sound like his identity was far from a secret.

She could only imagine what Mal would say when she found out Michael was the Antichrist. 

They made it back to their room without being spotted, for which Maddie was eternally grateful. 

Under her bed, she still had the backpack she had when the world ended. Though the books were on her bedside table, she still had a few things stowed away in it. Her university ID that she couldn't bear to throw away, a few hair ties, her reading glasses, her dead laptop, and the clothes she had been wearing the day Michael had destroyed the world: a tank top, leggings, and sandals with a Stanford sweatshirt. 

She took out the clothes to make room for the books.

"So, where are you from, Jax?" Mallory asked as she helped fold Maddie's leggings. "You know, before the blasts."

He was quiet for a moment and Maddie wondered if he was going to answer before he said, "Avernus."

Maddie nearly choked, her head spinning back to look at Jax in shock. "I'm sorry, did you say 'Avernus'?"

He nodded, eyes widening in surprise. Clearly, he hadn't expected either of them to get the obscure reference.

"I've never heard of it," Mallory said.. "Is that in Cali?"

No, Maddie thought. Avernus was one of the suspected locations of the gates to hell. Jax was a demon, which meant Dan was probably one too.

"No, ma'am."

She looked at Maddie. "What's so significant about Avernus?"

Maddie glanced at Jax and back at Mal, shaking off her shock at having a literal bodyguard from hell. "Oh, nothing. Michael just spent some time in… Avernus when he was young. Just was surprised."

"Oh. Is that how you know him?"

"No, ma'am. We didn't meet until Sanctuary."

Maddie hummed. "Yes, well, I hear Avernus is a big place."

"Yes, ma'am." He sounded vaguely amused, even if he remained stoic. For some reason, it was comforting to know that demons had a sense of humor.

Mallory stayed long enough to help her pack but had to return to her duties before someone noticed she was gone. And already being down two greys was sure to take its toll.

Jax has insisted on carrying her bag. The sight of her pale pink backpack draped over his shoulder almost made her giggle. 

She insisted on carrying Macula, considering he still hissed at anyone not her. She suspected Michael might fight her on keeping him, considering Mac was rather deadly and Michael was rather attached to her. She fully intended to plant her foot firmly down.

They reached Michael's door and Jax reached to open it.

"Wait!" Maddie said. "What if he's in an interview?"

Jax looked at her with a furrowed brow. When he realized she was serious, he replied, "Somehow, I don't think Mister Langdon will mind." 

Before she could reply, he'd opened the door.

Sure enough, Michael was meeting with Jane. The other grey looked at her with wide eyes before catching herself and giving a little wave.

"Sorry," Maddie mouthed, taking the bag from Jax with a quiet "Thank you," before hurrying back to the bedroom.

She ignored the pointed smirk on Michael's face the entire time.

Bastard.

She set the box with Mac down on the bed and cracked the lid before opening her bag back up. She took out the new notebook that Michael had given her, still wrapped in his red scarf, and a pen before settling on the bed.

It had been eighteen months since she wrote any part of her thesis. She tried not to dwell on it, filled with melanchia at the memory.

After the day she had, it was more relevant than ever, even if it did kill her that she would have no sources to verify her knowledge.

Maddie propped up the cushions behind her and settled in. Mac slid down from the box before awkwardly slithering across the bed to nestle against her thigh.

The concept of hell originated, simultaneously, across hundreds of different cultures. While these ideas vary in details concerning size, severity of punishment, and hierarchies, they maintain a singular truth: that each occupant has been judged based on the content of their life and was found guilty. 

"I should have guessed," she nearly jumped at Michael's voice. Looking up, she saw him leaning against the doorway, smirking at her.

She looked back down to her writing, finishing her thought. "Is your interview over already, Mister Langdon?"

Michael's smirk widened as he walked over to her. "You'll find that very few people are worth three hours of my time."

"Plus, your bed was full this time so no offers of naps."

"That, too." He bent down to kiss her head, only noticing Macula as he stood.

"I feel like we need to implement a rule: only one snake in the bed."

"At the moment, there is." Maddie closed the journal and set it aside. She leaned against Michael, pressing her cheek to his stomach.

"I take it you're bringing Macula?" Michael asked, running his hand down her hair and sounding amused at the prospect.

"He's my plus one to Sanctuary."

He chuckled. "Whatever my queen desires," he teased.

"Huh. I was certain that was going to be a fight."

"I'm not unreasonable."

"Yes, you are." Maddie looked up at him. "That's one of your defining traits. You made me take a demon as a bodyguard to literally go upstairs and down the hall. But you're fine with me having a venomous snake?"

"He told you he was a demon?" Michael asked, totally missing the point.

"Mallory asked where he was from and the guy said 'Avernus'."

Michael hummed. "Would have worked on most humans. And as far as Macula goes, yes, he's venomous but I've made you immune to him. He could bite you and you'd have no more than a scratch."

Raising a brow, she asked, "And when did the happen?"

"The moment I found out you had a venomous snake."

She huffed a laugh, leaning back into him. After a moment, it occurred to her. "That was before you spoke to your father. Before you knew what I was to you."

Michael sighed as he recalled, "I might not have understood why, but I was hopelessly yours the moment you started sassing me in the library."

"Is that all it took?" she teased.

"Yes." And the certainty of his words was enough to stagger her. He stroked her hair as he stared down at her, his eyes soft. "Venable stopped me in the halls when I went to collect your roommate for her interview."

"I'm surprised. I would have thought she'd be too scared to look at you after you went all B-horror movie on her."

Michael pointedly ignored her remarks. "She apologized and made a show of inviting us both to the little soiree she's throwing tomorrow night."

"The Halloween party?"

"Yes. I told her we would consider it. I leave it to you."

"You don't have an opinion?"

Michael tilted her head up to look at him. "I would much rather stay in, lock ourselves away from the rest of the world and fuck you until you can't walk." Her entire body jumped up several degrees before Michael continued. "However, I acknowledge that, for better or worse, this Outpost has been your home for the last eighteen months. I would understand if you wanted the opportunity for one last evening in the library."

Her lips twitched, thinking of the one place in all of Hawthorne that she would miss. "Maybe we could make a brief appearance?"

"Whatever you want," Michael promised and Maddie smiled. 

For the first time in a long time, life was good.

…………..

Their remaining time at Outpost 3 flew by in a blur.

Between the interviews (which took a moderate amount of convincing just to get Michael to finish-- her presence was proving to be a huge distraction) and Maddie's latest archival project, they remained busy. 

And when they weren't working, they were in bed. Or on Michael's desk, the kitchen counter, the floor, and twice against the wall. It turned out that the Antichrist had an unmatched stamina and, though it had been said in jest, Maddie suspected Michael really could fuck her until she couldn't walk. Already she was limping her way to the kitchen Friday morning.

Michael seemed damn near addicted to touching her, even when they weren't fucking. A hand on her back as they walked or wrapping his arms around her at every opportunity. Even just sitting together in bed while Maddie wrote in her notebook and Michael lazily typed at his computer he would keep a hand on her thigh, almost as if he was afraid that she would float away, untethered, if he wasn't.

She didn't complain. A part of her even understood, her heart aching at the knowledge that he had been denied touch and affection for the majority of his life. 

By noon on Friday, Michael had finished the interviews and was sitting on the bed, Maddie's legs draped over his and his laptop resting on her thighs so he could still see.

The computer was playing a soft rock channel. He had allowed Maddie to go through the music he had saved and pick what she wanted to hear. He reveled in her delight at rediscovering music other than then the songs repeated on their radio.

He had an email to Sanctuary, dictating who was coming and how many rooms would be required. 

"I have no problems with Tim. But the girl is very goody-goody."

Maddie raised her brow and pointed out, "I'm very goody-goody."

"Yes, but you," Michael argued, wrapping his hand around the back of her neck to bring her in for a kiss to the head, "are adorable."

"I believe you may be biased, sir."

Michael shrugged, uncaring. "I'll bring Emily if it pleases you, mu anassa. But she may struggle with the libertine values of Sanctuary."

"I'll keep her from staging any protests." And, playing the card she knew would get him to fold, "She's always been so kind to me. She was the only purple who really tried to get more freedoms for the greys and, when I was assigned to her, she'd let me hide in her room to read."

His face softened and he stroked her cheek. "Alright. Will she want her own room or will she want to share with Tim?"

"She'll want to share. Now that they can fuck freely, I don't think they plan on stopping."

"I know the feeling," Michael muttered.

Maddie grinned, resting her head on his shoulder. 

He rested his head on hers. "Unbelievable. I usually go into a place looking for the most tolerable hedonistic people I can find. Instead, I'm returning with a people-pleasing personal assistant, a dumbass who didn't complete high school, and an activist. What have you done to me?"

"Clearly, I must have fucked your brains out. You've lost all reason."

His hand teased her throat, squeezing ever so gently. "I should spank that sass out of you."

"Later," she briefly leaned into his touch, forcing him to restrict her breathing momentarily. Then, Maddie smirked, sitting back up and slipping her legs off of him. "We need to get ready for the party."

"Tease," he growled.

"You love it."

 She walked over to the chest. The dress and matching shoes she had chosen was already on top and she snarched them as she locked herself in the bathroom.

Blood-red silk with darker red and black accents, her dress certainly wouldn't fit in with the grey and purple color scheme of the Outpost but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Using Michael’s brush, she combed out her hair.

That was the other rule of Venable’s she planned on ignoring that night. The up-do requirement of everyone with long hair. Emily often teased the limits with only half up-dos but Maddie planned on wearing her hair down.

It gave her a warm feeling inside, to knowingly disregard such pointless mandates.

A final fuck you to the woman who had kept her a servant for eighteen months.

Petty, she knew. At her age, she should be above such things. Maybe Michael was rubbing off on her or maybe she was just tired of trying to keep her head down.

 Maddie decided to forgo the makeup. Michael hadn’t brought much outside of his red eye shadow and that felt like a little much. She stuck with just combing out her hair before slipping the dress on.

It had thick straps that met in a wide scoop at the swell of her breasts. It left her neck, still covered with little purple love bites, on display for the world. Those that had started to fade had been touched up by Michael earlier that morning. He seemed to have an obsession with her neck. And her breasts. And her hands. And her legs.

She smiled as she tugged the zipper up under her arm and turned in the mirror.

She’d never owned such a luxurious piece of clothing. In the old world, it would have belonged on runway models or in award shows. The fact she was wearing it to an apocalyptic Halloween party felt strange.

With one last check to her hair, she went back into the bedroom. Michael was gone so she continued through the suite.

He was at his desk, still typing, she noted although he had taken the time to change. Instead of his usual all black ensemble, he had added a red velvet smoking jacket. His hair had been tied back with a black strip of leather, making him look rather distinguished.

He looked up as she entered and his expression darkened as he leaned back, getting a better look.

She waited for him to say something as he slowly perused her silk-wrapped body.

Michael shook his head. "I'm going to have to kill everyone."

Maddie felt her cheeks heat as she bit her lip.

"Your friends are no longer coming to Sanctuary because I’m going to kill them."

"You're ridiculous," she said, shaking her head and looking away.

 No one had ever looked at her so… fiercely. And she had no doubt a part of him really did wish he could kill her friends and the rest of the world just to have exclusive rights to her. What should terrify her only made her long for him more.

"Come here," Michael ordered and her breath hitched. "Now."

And fuck, she literally couldn't stop her feet from moving forward. 

Michael slammed the laptop closed and pushed his chair back from his desk. His eyes almost looked black as she reached him.

Michael reached down and grasped the end of her dress, dragging it up her legs hungrily. He licked his lips as he pushed the skirt past her hips. He blinked and her underwear was gone.

"That was the third pair!" she complained.

Ignoring her, Michael managed to wrap his hand around her thighs and yanked her forward, up onto his lap. He kissed her before she had even realized where she was.

Her protests were lost as she moaned into his mouth, his hand slipping between them. She heard his zipper rolling open and whimpered as his cock sprang free. He rubbed his length against her folds, coating himself in her essence.

"You feel how fucking hard you make me, mu anassa?"

Maddie nodded frantically, simultaneously hating and adoring how he could turn her from a fully functioning woman into a desperate puddle of desire in a matter of seconds.

He kissed his way down her jaw, lining his cock up to her entrance.

With a jerk of his hips, he slid inside her. Michael grabbed her hips, pulling her down until he was buried.

He groaned, rolling into her, making her moan, her head tilting back and baring her throat.

Unable to resist, Michael nipped at it. His teeth grazed her neck and Maddie jumped in response before sinking back onto his length.

“That’s it, baby,” Michael murmured, wrapping his hand around the base of her head, bringing her forehead down to his. “Ride me.”

And though it wasn’t the first time she had ended up on top, she wasn't as confident as she'd like to be. 

Maddie bit her lip, bracing her hands on his shoulders. Slow and uncertain, she rose up before sinking back down with a shudder. She could feel every fucking inch of his hardness as he filled her up.

Her face burned in delightful need as she repeated the motion, watching his blue eyes become eclipsed by black as she sank down again.

Michael’s hand moved from the back of her neck to the front, squeezing gently against her windpipe. Maddie gasped at the sensation, feeling herself flutter around him. Michael groaned, hand tightening ever so slightly-- not enough to hurt her, never that. 

Maddie found herself leaning into his grip, her hips moving faster as she reveled in the feel of him.

"Just like that," Michael praised. "Fuck, you feel perfect."

Her confidence increasing with his words, Maddie bent her head to kiss him.

His tongue, sweeter than it had any right to be, swirled around hers. She felt herself clench around him and the arm wrapped around her tightened in response, his nails pressing into her back. 

Close, she was so close. The feel of him buried inside of her was driving her utterly mad.

Michael removed the hand from her throat, letting it trail down between the valley of her breasts, tantalizingly teasing her as it went lower, lower. It slipped under her hiked skirt and found the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Maddie gasped, seeing stars as he started to play with her. Rolling the nub between his fingers as his dark gaze soaked in the sight of her.

"Come for me, Madeline.”

With a cry of pleasure, she did. Gasping and moaning her way through her orgasm. Her head collapsed against his shoulder but her hips didn’t stop moving. Michael’s hips thrust up to meet hers in a grunt and she could feel the moment he released, spilling inside of her with a low groan of his own.

His arms circled around her, bringing her closer to his body as he rode out the aftershocks inside her.

“How do you feel about being late to the party?” he whispered in her ear.