"ID," the bouncer demands, opening a larger than life palm in front of me.

     I exhale cautiously, trying to steady my hands as I place the small piece of perfectly laminated plastic into his. Shifting nervously on my feet I say a silent prayer that he doesn't pay too much attention to the drivers license. Demi is one of the best when it comes to forged documents but her fake ID skills still need a bit of tweaking.

     Without saying a word he waves us in, not even bothering to check the ID of the busty blonde hot on my heels. Not that I blame him in the least bit. I am as straight as an arrow but, when Demi is in the mood the look alluring, she more than hits the nail on the head.  Tonight that is exactly what we need. Alluring with a hint of ignorance and innocence.

     "Told you it would work," she whispers into my ear as we weave our way through the crowd towards the club's neon lighted bar.

     I ignore her gloating, giving the man behind the bar a once over. It only takes me seconds to determine he isn't a threat. He could possibly spend less time at the gym seeing as his biceps are dangerously close to busting out of his too tight shirt, but not a threat. I swallow back a lump of disgusts and do my best impression of someone who doesn't loathe the idea of being packed into a room with hundreds of other people.

     Demi elbows me side, glaring at me as she tosses a handful of platinum dyed hair over her shoulders.

     "For the love of God and all things holy Makenna," she growls through clenched teeth, "Can you at least pretend to be human for a few seconds at a time? Loosen up a bit. You might even find yourself having a good time."

     "Doubtful." I shift, moving the uncomfortable tight spandex dress back into its rightful place at my thighs. It is one thing to send me into a crowded building full of drunk people in hopes to lure out a rouge Hell demon instead of allowing me to spend my Friday night as I usually would, in large sweats binge watching TV. It is a whole new level of punishment to demand I do all of this while wearing a dress that covers less than most underwear while still expecting me to pack heavy weaponry.

     Demi elbows me again and juts her head in the direction of the velvet roped VIP section. From that simple movement my target is easy to find. Tall, mild build with golden eyes most people would pass off as a trick of the mind or really good contacts.

     As much as I hate clubs and pretty much anything else involving human interaction, I try to hold back my excitement. We have been hunting this Hell demon for months and, up until now, have always been one step behind him. And by one step I mean only there to see the bodies he leaves behind.

   Coming across him had been by pure accident. After an extremely uneventful night at home, Marcus had all but begged me to come visit some twenty-four hour diner he had read about online. I had only caught a glimpse of those freakish eyes but that was all it had taken to confirm he was the thing we were looking for. A simple two nights later it became quite obvious this was his hunting ground. Lucky for us Demi fit his type: tall, blonde and fit.

     "I'm going to need a bottle of really nice champagne," I shout to the bartender, not even bothering to make small talk. He smiles, letting his eyes linger a little too long on my overly exposed chest. Any other day I would have knocked him around a bit but I have been restricted from causing more injuries than necessary tonight.

     Buff Bartender nods and makes his way towards the liquor freezer, bringing back with him a bottle of booze that probably costs more than it should.

    "Thank you. I assume this will not only cover the drinks but the cost of admittance into the VIP section?" I slide a wad of neatly folded cash into his direction, watching as he transfers it into his pocket. There is more than a thousand dollars worth of hundreds in that stack, which pretty much assures anything I need for the night will be more than taken care of.

     With a quick nod of the bartender, the bouncers of the VIP section do nothing to stop us as we pass through. Demi makes quick work, pretending to slip on a napkin and ending up right in Hell demon's lap. A flip of the hair and a ditzy giggle and he is wrapped tightly around her finger.

    I blend in, not wanting to draw too much attention to myself. All of his other victims had come to the club alone and I don't plan of risking it. Demi is more than capable of handling her own long enough until back up arrives.

    Demi leans over, running her fingers along his thigh as she whispers into his ear. Hell demon grins and begins to lead her towards the back door. I count to ten before slipping through the crowd and following them out.

     Hell demon's back is to me as I silently approach them. Demi has her lips on his neck, her eyes looking up to connect with mine. It takes too long to register the look of alarm before pain explodes through my shoulder.

     I spin on my heels, throwing all my weight towards the attacker. There are only a few seconds to register the feel of thick skin trying to break free from thin fabric before I reach in, locating his life force and ripping it clean out of his body. What remains of Buff Bartender crumples to the ground lifelessly.

     Demi has the Hell demon with his back against the wall, a knife pressed firmly at the base of his throat.

     "You're a long way from home demon," she growls. Hell demon laughs in return, not even seeming to notice that the knife has edged its way a good inch into his skin. Dark black blood begins to run down his throat, soaking into the collar of his overpriced suit.

     "Who sent you here?" I ask as I place my hand against his chest and he begins to struggle. I focus on his heart, pulling gently at the life force pulsing from it.

      It must be painful, having the life slowly ripped from your body. Feeling every ounce of pain as every cell in your body cries out for it to end. I have never experienced it myself but, from the way Hell demon is whaling, it can't be too pleasant.

     "A war is brewing puer inferni. The Master is coming and with him all Hell will break lo-" He has no time to finish his sentence before I pull his life out quickly, leaving him in a crumpled ball right next to the remains of Buff Bartender.

     "What'd you do that for?" Demi yells, shoving me against the wall. I flinch, now noticing the burning sensation in my shoulder.

     "He wasn't going to tell us shit." I place my hand over my shoulder, feeling at the fresh bullet wound. There is no exit hole, meaning the bullet is still in there. "It has been like this for three months now. Every time we catch one of these escapees they all have the same story. Some spiel about The Master coming and war and blah blah blah."

     "You don't know that Makenna. Jesus, this is exactly what Kris was talking about. You need to learn some patience." Demi pauses, hands flying to her hip as her scowl deepens. I watch as her eyes travel to now gushing wound, watching as I dig the bullet from the hole.

     "What?" I ask, discarding the bloody ammo onto the pavement.

     "That was my favorite dress." She shoves past me, making her way towards the car waiting for us around the corner.