She pulled herself up and leaned against the headboard.
The rocking sounds of Five Finger Death Punch’s “Wrong Side of Heaven” erupted in the room.
“What’s that?”
That was the sound of responsibility, a reminder of who and what she was. She rolled out of bed and found her pants, tugging her cell phone out of the pocket. “It’s my boss.”
“Lucifer?”
“No, Emmett. He’s my immediate supervisor.” She answered the call. “Hey, boss.” It wasn’t easy to speak with him as though nothing had changed in her life.
“I said you’d have some downtime, but something has come up.” His tones were clipped and precise. He didn’t care in the least about her. All that mattered to him were his quotas. If his hunters didn’t perform, he was the one who had to explain it to his boss. That kind of misery trickled down, and the hunters always got the worst of it.
“What do you need?” There was nothing more she could say. As far as he was concerned, she was on the job, the same as always.
“Low-level guy.” Papers shuffled in the background. It never failed to amuse her that her supervisor was buried in paperwork. Come to think of it, that administrative bullshit really was hell.
“Goes by the name of Speed,” Emmett continued. “Where do they get these ridiculous names?” he muttered. “Last seen at a club called The Inferno. How clichéd. I’m not sure exactly where it is, only that you’re the closest hunter. Cuffs have been sent to your motel room.”
“Time?” Sometimes there was a specified time limit on her bounty, sometimes not. She’d never figured out why that was the case.
“Nonspecific, but faster is always better.” Having said his piece, Emmett hung up. She ended the call and tucked her phone away.
“I have another demon to hunt.”
“I heard.”
No surprise, with his advanced senses. With all the skills he had, that would be the least of them. “I need to get back to my motel and pick up the cuffs.” It was her only way to detain the demon. They were also a beacon that would allow Emmett to do a pickup.
Maccus rolled out of bed and dragged on his pants. “If you don’t?”
“Then I’m in breach of my contract, and it is back to Hell for me.” His bare chest and the intricate tattoos drew her attention. At one point, she was sure her fingers had stroked metal and not flesh, like she could lift the knife right off his chest.
“Lucifer is ramping up the pressure, drawing us out.” Maccus glared at her as though she was somehow responsible. “Does he think I’ll send you out there without me?”
“I gave up wondering what motivated him a long time ago.” But she did feel better that she wouldn’t be heading out there by herself. She’d never had a partner, never had backup. It was discouraged by management. They didn’t want hunters to form any ties that might run deeper than their obligation to Hell.
They did everything possible to nip anything that might lead to a rebellion, which included friendships. No, they did the opposite, sometimes pitting hunters against one another for a bounty. Loser gets an all-expense-paid vacation to Hell, a getaway to somewhere warm during the winter months. Or, in her case, somewhere even colder.
Chilled to the bone, she shivered. “You don’t have to go with me,” she told him. She was used to being alone. “You can stay here and ride this out.” There was no reason for both of them to die, and that’s what the angel and devil wanted.
Maccus shook his head. “For the time being, we stick together.”
She gave a curt nod, trying not to show how relieved she was. It would be hard enough to focus on hunting a demon without having to worry about all the rest.
This also meant they couldn’t go to the gallery tonight, as planned. She wasn’t sure if she was disappointed or relieved.
“Do you know The Inferno?” Made sense to ask since he lived in New York.