Paying close attention, Charlotte absorbed every detail as Angel described demons from Earth's lore, drawing from movies, books, the internet, and religions. He identified several traits across these sources, explaining how she could combine them to craft the most terrifying, gut-wrenching image imaginable. She took in every detail, nodding and asking clarifying questions when needed.
But even as she listened, her mind raced with questions about herself: Who am I? How did I get here? And most importantly: Where did I come from? Was it really Hell?
Struggling to reconcile the notion of demons being evil with her own feelings frightened her. If I'm a demon, why does the thought of harming anyone make me feel sick to my stomach? Perhaps humans simply have no understanding of my kind and only think the worst of us?
"Charlotte?"
His voice drew her out of those thoughts, and she blinked back at him. "Sorry. I'm just so confused." Charlotte went on to share her anxious thoughts with him.
He listened quietly, and when she finished, he shared his thoughts. "I can't begin to understand what you're going through, and I wouldn't insult you by pretending I do." He turned to face her. "Whatever you are, Charlotte, we'll figure it out in time. But since you want to help, we have a chance to put your gifts to good use. Even the darkest of men understand the basic concepts of good, evil, demons, and Hell. Most fear them, so we can exploit that." He hesitated. "If you're sure you want to do this?"
The question lingered between them. Her fear wasn't for herself but for the children's safety. She would do whatever it took to protect them from the real monsters—the ones undeserving of mercy.
Charlotte nodded. "Yes, Angel. I need to do this. If what I am can help you, I have to try."
"Okay." A thin smile crossed his face. "But Charlotte, when you're down there, don't forget there are children in one of the rooms. You have to be very careful and not let them see you, especially in your demonic form. They're already frightened enough."
"I know." Solemnly, she nodded.
"Also,"—he paused.
Charlie lifted her brow, curious.
"Even though I despise these bastards, I do whatever I can to take them alive. They need to face their crimes in court, not vigilante justice." Firmly, Angel emphasized, "So no killing."
"I don't think I could, anyway. It just doesn't feel right." Charlotte let out a dry laugh. "Some demon, huh?"
With a reassuring squeeze on her shoulder, Angel admitted, "I don't like to kill either, Charlotte. I avoid it at all costs." He shivered as a memory flashed through his mind.
Shaking his head, he knelt and opened the duffel bag. Charlotte remained standing and waited as he pulled out a pair of night vision goggles.
Securing them to his head, he explained. "I don't have eyesight nearly as powerful as yours, but these will do just fine."
"They make it easy to see in the dark?"
"Yes. The goggles amplify existing light and infrared to create images in low-light conditions, while thermal imaging detects heat. It allows me to see in nearly complete darkness."
"Demon eyes," a soft smile touched her lips. "Just like mine."
"But not nearly as beautiful," Angel whispered, pulling out a map—unaware of the warm blush spreading across Charlotte's alabaster cheeks.
Unfolding the paper, he pointed to where the house was located relative to their current position. He then drew out a second piece of paper: the layout of the house itself. He explained the exits and various rooms of the single-story structure, sharing what he believed about where the kids might be held.
After explaining the plan, he looked at her to confirm. "Following me?"
As Angel spoke, Charlotte's face had been gradually shifting into its demonic form, and when he glanced her way, sharp teeth flashed back at him. "Yes," she hissed.
The transformation startled him, and he quickly chastised himself. She's on your side; get used to it.
Shaking off his nerves, he gave her a look. "Warn me next time?"
Simply grinning, Charlotte embraced her powers. "Fear is a weapon, right? I need to ensure it's sharp." Then, softly, she added, "Sorry."
He understood and smiled back to reassure her. "No, you're right. Don't lose your edge. You look perfect."
Hissing again, Charlotte's serpent tongue flicked across her lips, eager to begin. "Do you have an idea of which story I should use?"
"Oh, I absolutely do." A genuine twinkle sparkled in Angel's eyes.
It seemed to her that he was starting to accept her as his partner, making her eager to prove herself to him.
Minutes later, the two came into view of the house. The low clouds had gathered, shrouding the moon and plunging the valley into deeper darkness, which Angel considered fortunate. It would help hide their approach. Adjusting his night vision goggles, he spotted an older, burly man sitting in a rocking chair on the porch with a rifle resting across his lap.
A low, demonic growl escaped Charlotte before she could suppress it. His hand on her shoulder signaled approval, prompting her to growl again, more openly. Her muscles tensed, claws sinking into the cold, damp earth, and her tail twisted in a feline-like manner, anticipating the hunt. She embraced what she had become, allowing herself to embody the monster humans dreaded. And oh, how they would fear her.
When Angel looked at her, goosebumps erupted on his arms, and he took a breath, trembling. He imagined how frightened those bastards would be in a few minutes if she, as his ally, could make him feel this terrified.
"Charlotte?"
The demon looked at him, crimson eyes radiating in the darkness.
"It's time."
Without a word, she flashed him a sinister grin and vanished.