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It was strange how a city with such an enthusiastic party life never questioned the presence of a small pub that never opened it's doors during the night. It was probably the large words "coolest establishment since 1978" painted proudly over the only window and the massive wooden cross hanging above the door. The paint was laced with menstrual blood of a female, a concoction that Susie swore kept out lost souls and the cross meant that any demonic presence that wanted to enter had to be invited in. The combination of the two achieve something even more astounding; it discouraged any humans looking for a good time.

I pushed the door open, brushing the grime off my boots on the welcome mat, and walked inside. The lights were on, as they usually were until all the Hunters had returned and I found Lissa Cardet waiting at the bar, pouring herself a coffee from the only piece of equipment that worked here; a shiny, new Keurig that I had bought last Christmas.

"Scarlett," she smiled and motioned towards the freshly brewed pot.

"No thanks," I say, stepping into the light, displaying my woeful state. She's so surprised she almost drops her mug.

"Scar, what the hell happened to you?" she sets her coffee down and turns to grab one of the kitchen towels Susie used to wipe the bar down. Lissa tosses it to me and I catch it gratefully.

"It rained and I was waiting outside," I explain, and begin to towel off my wet hair.

"Damn girl, you look like were just kicked to the curb," she smiles, picking up her coffee again and takes a drink, "did the demon resist?"

"They all do," I respond and take a seat at one of the barstools. Lissa heads back to the kitchen warm up some leftovers from dinner, ing about her latest boyfriend. Lissa was almost four years older than me, but she was the Messenger that I'd worked with for almost all my life and I had become the older sister of our relationship. She was fragile, sick often when she was younger, but she was one of the fieriest people I'd ever met, always working the room like she had the means of defending herself if things went south.

And she did. Me. She was the one that outsmarted people, talked circles around them, and flung vicious threats. I was the one that carried out.

"He's such a baby," she laughed from the kitchen, "of course I have a , but why the hell don't you have one? Afraid mother's goi