He inches closer as she prepares the drink, showing some knowledge of how to handle a demon. Interesting. Or at least a good bluff. Finally, he holsters his gun, waiting until she steps away to take the glass. He would have been happy to sit in a silence, even an awkward one, and have the time to think. However, the 'maid' began to speak to him, and it would be rather improper and unwise to ignore her. 

So, he listened as she recounted her story. It strikes him as odd that someone would want someone unwilling to serve them food and drink. There are too many openings for betrayal, and too few openings for conversion. Bringing the glass up to his lips, he instead took a deep inhale of its scent. Whiskey, cinnamon and orange. Possibly the expensive stuff. Of course that's where his worshippers' money would go. Demon scum. 

But beyond that, the demon hunter snuck another look at the girl as she keeps speaking, and frowns to himself. He doesn't like her story, but he can tell she doesn't like demons either. Finally, he takes a big drink and tilts his head back, letting his eyes close as the smoothness of it coats his throat in a way nothing else could. And on exhale he could taste and smell everything. he wasnt sure how, but there were floral backnotes. Almost rose-like. A damn good whiskey, and a damn shame.

With a sigh, he takes a much smaller sip to follow up. Finally he speaks again, each sentence followed by another sip, "I know he's in a ring, and have done some research. It's going to be tough. I don't have nearly enough to attack them quickly before they find out  about this hit, and suspect a demon hunter. The doors are all unlocked, its up to everyone to walk through them."

He looks over at her again, "Including yourself."

His eyes drift down to the corpse on the floor. It had stopped looking human sometme during their confrontation, "yea, they always look like that before they die."