Blitzø can't believe his luck.
Not only did he manage to find the rich asshole prince from his childhood — "first friend," his ass, more like first victim, who's that idiot fooling — he had the book Blitzø remembered, and Blitzø had gotten away with stealing it.
Now it was in his possession, and Blitzø has never been closer to achieving his goals.
The only problem, of course, is now there was a pissed off, incredibly powerful demon prince who could make magic portals and knew exactly who had taken his fancy-ass magic book. No big deal, right?
Fucking shitbiscuit, Blitzø thinks. I am so dead.
He doesn't want to risk bringing the book anywhere near I.M.P, he has no idea whether or not Stolas can track it, and he won't chance it and potentially put Moxxie and Millie in the path of destruction. If Blitzø is going to die for his recklessness, he's not taking his family down with him.
Which means he can't go back to his apartment, either — at least not while Loona's there.
Blitzø considers hiding the book, but the idea of letting it out of his sight fills him with dread and he discards that plan immediately. He's not sure what he would do if he managed to steal the book, only to let it get taken from him before he could even use it. He shakes off the despair that threatens to crush him at the idea of that nightmare scenario, and heads toward Imp City.
He may not be able to go home, but he can think of plenty of places where he can lie low until he knows whether or not it's safe to return.
He starts at his second favorite coffee place; he doesn't really want his first favorite to be leveled by an angry demon prince any more than he does his apartment. It has really good coffee. He's still a bit worn out from last night, and a sugary caffeinated drink is both a way to fight the tiredness, and something to do while he figures out where he's going to go. He finds a shadowed corner of the cafe to sit in with his drink, and carefully flips through the book under the table.
Most of the pages are covered in scribbly nonsense he can't make heads or tails of, some with creepy imagery to boot. But there are a couple spells written in a language he can actually read, including the only one that matters to him — the spell to create a portal.
He has no idea how he can get it to go where he wants, the book doesn't elaborate on the mechanics of it. But if he can figure out how to get it open, Moxxie can probably help him figure out how to choose where. And, more importantly, if Stolas shows up, he'll have an escape route.
Assuming he can get the portal open and himself through it before Stolas murders him, anyway.
Blitzø has about half the text memorized — fucking words keep getting scrambled, so it's slower than he would like — when his phone rings.
Blitzø inhales his coffee when he reads the name on the screen, and coughs so long it almost goes to voicemail before he finally answers it with a shaky finger.
"Uh. Yeah?"
"Blitzy, you've been so naughty. Leaving before I woke up was quite unbecoming of you, not to mention the fact that you took something that belongs to me. And without even asking me first!"
Blitzø feels his insides shrivel up on themselves. Is this it? Is Stolas threatening him?
"Well, not like you would've given it to me if I'd asked," he grumbles, tone flippant despite his existential terror, figuring there wasn't much point in denying it.
"And how are you so certain?" Blitzø blinks, staring blankly at the table with its water stains and spots of coughed-up iced coffee while his brain reboots. That was... definitely not the reaction he expected.
"The fuck are you saying?" Blitzø barks, accusing. "You're trying to tell me you would have just given me the book if I'd asked?"
"Why wouldn't I?"
"Horseshit. It's valuable and rare. You're a fucking prince. There's no way you'd let an imp just have it."
"Well no, not permanently. I do have important duties, you know, and I cannot complete them without my grimoire."
"You're— you're fucking with me. This is the second time I've stolen from you, and you're telling me you're just going to let it go?"
"Well, I didn't say that, either."
There it was. Blitzø knew there would be a catch. He admits he'd been pretty certain it would be a slow and painful death, but Stolas could also demand something much, much worse, and Blitzø would be pretty helpless to stop him.
There wasn't a whole lot a demon prince of Hell couldn't get away with.
Why had Blitzø thought this was a good idea, again?
"Alright. What do you want, then?" Blitzø asks, resigned.
"Oh, no need to sound so dire. I haven't decided yet, but I'm sure we'll think of something suitable. I must ask, however, what your plans for my grimoire are. I can't have you broadcasting to all of Hell that you are in possession of it, you know. It would cause... complications. Besides it being quite thoroughly illegal, of course."
"What? No, obviously I'm going to keep it on the D.L, I'm not an idiot. You, uh... You remember how I told you I'm an assassin now?"
"I do recall your little career change, yes."
"Well, it's not exactly a rare career choice, and I need a way to stand out, to do something no one else is doing. Make a splash, all unique and shit. So I'm going to use your book to assassinate humans up above, for clients down here with grudges."
"Hmm, that's certainly innovative."
"Genius plan, right? So no one needs to know how we get there, and we're the only business in town who can do it. We'll make a name for ourselves in no time, and your reputation stays sparkling. We'll even give you a discount, if you ever want a mortal offed!"
"Charming. Very well, I suppose as long as you are cautious, I have no objections. Do try to avoid using portals out in the open where someone might spot you, and keep in mind that the magic leaves a faint... residue, for a time, that can be tracked, if one knows what to look for."
"Mix up the locations, keep out of sight. Got it."
"That's my little imp," Stolas said, almost a purr, and Blitzø was horrified at the heat that crawled up his neck and burned his cheeks at the tone. There was plenty of irritation, too, Blitzø hated being called an imp, or little, as if that was all there was to him. He had a name, satan-damn-it. The conflicting reactions when Stolas said it, though, were... confusing, to say the least.
"Whatever. We done?"
"For the time being, yes. Should I expect future surprise visits, or was my grimoire all that you were after?"
For the second time in the conversation, Blitzø's mind is blank. Total bluescreen. Was Stolas asking him what he thought he was asking?
"Uh, I wasn't really— I mean, sure, if you— if that's— if your wife won't have me, like, executed, or something."
"Hmm, that is a possibility, I suppose. Perhaps entering through my private balcony would be wise. I can rearrange some plants, perhaps a bench? You were an acrobat, after all, and you proved you have both remarkable strength and stamina, I'm sure you can find a point of egress. And I will ensure my security leaves you unmolested."
"Whoa, ain't no way I'm banging anyone on your staff, birdbrain," Blitzø snaps. "I'm not some cheap whore."
Stolas fucking giggles. "Certainly not. I merely meant I would instruct them not to hinder you. No, only I will be afforded that priviledge here, I should think."
"Damn straight," Blitzø said, before he'd fully thought through what, exactly, he was agreeing to. But if an occasional fucking was all it took to keep Stolas happy and not asking for the book back pemanently, Blitzø figured it wasn't all that high of a price to pay.
Not for what he was getting in return.
"Splendid. Don't be a stranger, Blitzy!"
When Stolas ended the call, Blitzø stared at his phone for several long moments, not quite sure he hadn't just halucinated the entire exchange.
Was he really getting to keep the book? Well, borrow the book, but still. It sounded almost like Stolas didn't even mind, as long as he could do his job when he needed to.
Could Blitzø really be that lucky, ever? He could scarcely wrap his brain around it.
But that meant he didn't have to worry about Stolas showing up and immolating him, he was pretty sure, so it was safe to go to — fuck.
He still didn't know how the damn portal worked.
Well, he'd have Moxxie take a look at it, and if he couldn't figure it out... He supposed the bird had just given him an open invitation to his room. He could always go and ask, if he was willing to make the trade.