I don't stop running until I am about four blocks from the bar. Getting out of the semi deserted area is probably the best idea I have had all night. The road becomes thick with people and I find myself wandering towards a crowd. The more I blend in the less of a chance I have of him spotting me.

     Aside from the fact that Ash is twelve different kinds of hot, his sudden appearance in my life is a little too suspicious. First the increase in demon activity. Then the murders. Now Ash is here knowing more about me than I know about myself and telling me everyone like me has ended up dead.

     I branch away from the crowd, deciding it is best to head home. My phone is dead and, if the clubs are closing, it is well after three in the morning. Not only will someone have noticed I am gone by now but there is a good chance Kristoff or Marcus have sent a few someones looking. Not because they fear for my safety but because, let's face it, I'm a great asset to have around.

     Halfway down the now empty road a feeling I have never experienced before starts. All the hairs on my arms stand up and I feel like...no...I know I am being followed.

     I stop walking, turning in circles to survey the area. The street is seemingly empty but something deep in my gut is telling me that I am in danger. I am not alone out here. Someone, or something, is watching me.

     It hits me like a truck, slamming my back into the pavement. I cry out as the gravel digs into my skin. Thankful that I remembered to throw my leather jacket on, I go skidding across the pavement and the thick material prevents the skin from my back from being peeled straight off.

     Sharp nails dig into my shoulder and a pair of vicious yellow eyes stare down at me. The thing is hideous, but I recognize it. Volatre demon. Hell pit creatures. Something that would have had to travel through several levels before it even reached the surface. Its skin is a combination of black oozing sores and rows of razor sharp teeth. It gnashes at me, trying to lock its deadly mouth around my throat.

     I pull my leg back and nail the creature in the chest. Caught off guard it releases its grip and I am able to pull myself up. Ok, I have only managed to pull myself into a low crouch but it certainly beats being on my back.

     The creature advances on me again, teeth glinting in the moonlight. My fist slams into its jaw and I feel the bones in my knuckles crack. I reach for my gun and spot it a good twenty feet away from me, knocked out of its hiding spot during the initial encounter. I grit through the pain and slam my fist into its jaw again.

     I am too busy fighting the demon, searching for some life force in it, that I do not notice another one had snuck up on me. Its claws dig into my back, slicing the thick leather open like a hot knife through butter. I cry out again, finally locating the dark force hiding inside the first creature. I rip it out easily, leaving my first attacker nothing more than a pile of ooze and bones.

    "Va miros delicios," it snarls at me. Were it not for the fact that my back is sliced into shred and my knuckles might be broken, I might laugh at the fact that this creature just called me delicious in Latin.

     "Well, you smell like shit," I growl back. I shift so that my feet are more firmly planted to the ground. Tip number one Kristoff taught me when we first started sparing: a firm foot give you the upper hand and a better chance of survival.

     The demon growls again and I feel the burning on my back as my sweat drips into the open wounds. It backs up and I watch in horror as more yellow eyed creature make their way into my view, slowly spreading out so that they almost circle me. 

     My life is like one bad decision after another. Sneak out to meet a creepy hot demon. Run away from creepy hot demon after being informed that everyone like me has dies. Take the back road home because it a shorter walk to the train station. Now I am outnumbered. Again. There are a about a dozen Volatre in front of me and the most I have ever taken out at once was four. And that took a lot out of me. Damn near took it all out of me.

     "Are we going to stand here all night or are we going to get this party started?" I mock.

     A blinding light fills the street and I throw my hands over my eyes. There is the ear splitting sound of demons crying out in pain and then there is nothing but silence.

     I lower my hands and breathe a sigh of relief at the charred remains of demons now litter the street.

     "Really?" Ash's voice says from behind me. "I tell you that there is someone out there looking to kill you and you run away? Then, when I finally do catch up with you, I find you nearly ripped to shred trying to fight off a group of the lowest level demons there is. It is like you have a death wish or something."

     "I could have taken them all," I say as I turn to face him. He smiles.

     "That is no way to say thank you."

     "That is because I wasn't saying thank you."

     Ash brings a lighter to his lips, lighting up a smoke. I fight back the urge to tell him that smoking can kill because, come on, the dude is obviously eight different types of pure evil. He just fried a group of demons in front of me without really lifting a finger.

    I throw him a quick nod and begin to make my way towards my original destination, the train station. At this point it is more of a limp than a walk but I have never been more desperate to get home at this point. At least the walk will give me some time to make up a story to tell Marcus about why I am so beat up. Well, a story that doesn't involved me sneaking out to meet up with Ash.

     "You would think by now I would have earned at least an ounce of your trust," he says as he catches up to me. "I mean, I did just save your ass."

     "I would have been fine," I argue. "Besides, how do I know that I can trust you. Sure, you killed those things back there but how do I know it's not because you would rather kill me yourself? I mean, you know so much about me. You admitted you've been stalking me."

     "Investigating you," he corrects. "And I don't want to kill you. Okay, maybe I want to kill you a little but it has nothing to do with what you are and everything to do with the fact that you are so frivolous with your life. You should trust me because I am probably the only person in this city who can prevent you from doing exactly that. I may not know who or what is after you...but I can teach you to kill it."

     We continue walking and the lights of the train station come into view. I stop, spotting the Kristoff's familiar black SUV and a mop of blonde hair that belongs to none other than Marcus. He stares down at his phone, no doubtedly trying to call me for the millionth time tonight. At this point I have two options: go to him or stay with Ash and learn more about my background.

    "Ok Ash," I say as I turn onto the street before the station. "You have my attention."

A/N: Hey guys! Hope everyone is doing amazing today!!! Don't forget to vote, follow, comment and show this chapter some love.