The Bot

"I saw her, eyes shimmering like technicolour diamonds as the strobe picked her out of the crowd."

She casually glanced my way before moving to the beats of the music in the club.

The Devil club was a powerhouse of info dumping that could prove fatal for us with one wrong move. I silently blended in the dank, dark walls. As easily as she had grooved, Angel moves effortlessly, bringing down the club manager in one swift move.

Pinning him to the floor, her diamond eyes piercing him with lasers, she asked "Where's that 1936-'42 Martin D-45? Tell me, else..."

A/N: This is written for a contest - For Those About To Rock, hosted by @music.