"No fucking way," said the demon.
She had absolutely no intention of staying anywhere near that man. In Hell there were actual warnings about Henry Winchester. Demons talked about him the way humans talked about natural disasters—something you survived by getting far away before it noticed you.
If you encountered him alone, you ran.
Because fighting him was considered the same thing as suicide.
And if you encountered him while in a group, the smartest move was to become the fastest one escaping while the others died buying time.
So yes—
she ran.
"So you don't want his weakness?" asked Bela calmly. "It's solid. Something that can definitely kill him."
The demon hesitated despite herself.
"Hmph," she said finally. "I'll ask my supervisor."
Then she disappeared.
The second she vanished, Bela released a long shaky breath of relief and leaned back against the couch.
For a moment her hands were still trembling slightly from how close that conversation had come to going horribly wrong.
Then footsteps came from the other room.
Henry walked out lazily, one hand brushing through his slightly messy hair like he had actually been asleep the entire time.
"You did well," he said calmly.
Bela looked up at him from the couch. "Do you think so?" she asked quietly.
The confidence from earlier had faded now that the danger was gone.
Henry stopped for a second after really looking at her properly.
Bela Talbot always carried herself like she was in control. Sharp smile, clever remarks, acting like nothing in the world could shake her.
Right now though—
she looked exhausted.
Emotionally.
Because no matter how good she was at pretending otherwise, she was still human. And spending months waiting for Hell to drag you screaming downstairs would break anyone eventually.
Even someone like Bela.
Henry let out a small sigh before awkwardly stepping closer to the couch.
"There, there," he muttered while patting her head stiffly.
It was immediately obvious he had absolutely no idea how comforting people actually worked.
Bela blinked once in surprise at the gesture.
Then she gave him a strange look somewhere between amusement and disbelief.
"…Are you trying to comfort me?"
Henry kept awkwardly patting her head. "Honestly," he admitted, "I have no clue what I'm doing."
Bela actually laughed quietly at that before the sound faded again.
"So," she asked after a moment, "do you think she'll agree?"
This entire situation had been planned by Henry from the start.
Using Bela as bait wasn't the pleasant part of the strategy, but it was the fastest way to attract the demon holding her contract. More importantly, Henry needed access to a higher-ranking demon alive.
For information.
Specifically, the formula for recreating Colt bullets.
Because unlike ordinary demons, Lilith was something else entirely. Henry still remembered the white flash of light that could killed everyone in an instant.
If they wanted a real chance against her—
they needed the Colt functioning again.
And for that they needed more bullets.
Henry still wasn't fully sure whether his own powers could survive a direct attack from Lilith if things went badly. Testing that theory sounded incredibly stupid.
Which meant preparation came first.
"Well," Henry said finally, pulling his hand away from Bela's head, "they'll definitely agree."
Bela looked at him carefully while he continued.
"Trust me," he said calmly. "Right now Dean and Sam are the two most important humans in Hell's plans." A colder expression crossed his face briefly. "And I'm the obstacle standing in the middle of all that."
Demons already wanted him dead badly enough.
If there was even a rumor about a weakness—
high-ranking demons would come running.
"They'll agree gladly," Henry said quietly.
Because as far as he understood it, Lilith's real goal was much bigger than hunting them down.
She was trying to free Lucifer.
***
Inside a large mansion far from the city, the female demon knelt in front of a man seated comfortably in an expensive chair with a glass of whiskey resting in one hand.
Crowley.
King of the Crossroads.
One of Lilith's most trusted demons.
Unlike most demons, Crowley didn't need shouting or threats to make people nervous. The calmness was worse. He spoke like a businessman discussing contracts over dinner while deciding who lived and who got dragged to Hell.
"So," Crowley said slowly, swirling the drink in his hand, "let me see if I understand this properly." His sharp eyes settled on the kneeling demon. "You're telling me the colossal pain in our collective arse for the past year suddenly has a weakness?"
The demon nodded immediately. "Yes."
Crowley didn't answer right away.
Because honestly—
that sounded suspicious as hell.
So the idea that Bela Talbot conveniently discovered a perfect weakness after spending time around him?
Far too neat.
"Has it occurred to you," Crowley asked calmly, "that perhaps she's playing you?"
The female demon shook her head quickly. "I saw him there myself," she said. "Sleeping in her house." Her expression hardened slightly. "I think she knows what she's doing."
Crowley tapped one finger lightly against the glass while thinking.
If the information was real—
it was valuable beyond measure.
If it was a trap—
well, demons walked into traps all the time anyway.
Still, something about the situation bothered him. It lined up too perfectly. Almost like someone wanted Hell to take the bait.
But Crowley didn't press the issue further.
Because despite his caution, he also wanted answers about Henry.
Everyone in Hell did.
Finally Crowley leaned back slightly in his chair and sighed.
"Well," he muttered dryly, "either this ends with Henry Winchester dead…" A faint smile crossed his face. "Or several demons horribly regretting their career choices again."
*****
🔥 For Advanced Chapters Join My Patreon 🔥
👉 patreon.com/DeathNote4455
🚀 Get early access to 24 Advanced chapters.