"Am I the only one who brought a car?" Henry snapped, beckoning the three to her car. She settled into the driver's seat, buckling herself in and revving up the engine. She looked out the window once no one had made a move to get into the car and said to them, "Rules of the car: one, do not get any nasty shit on my leather; two, you get any ice anywhere in my car, I'll slit your throat; three, my car, my music. Last, but not least, you mention women being bad at driving one time - one fucking time - your ass is on the street."

As if to defy them, she flicked it onto her favorite classical rock station and blasted it as loud as she could, almost injuring her own eardrums in the process. Henry rolled the window back up and forced herself to unlock the car. She had a feeling that if she allowed them to ride with her, her car wasn't going to make it through the week - almost like a curse...

Christopher payed close attention at what Max was saying. He didn't pick up any unusual scent, could the creature be under some type of cloak or disguise? What if it had been amongst the customers in the coffee shop? He pondered whether or not there could be more than one of the damn things but that was unlikely, although he didn't rule it out completely.

"Rules of the car: one, do not get any nasty shit on my leather; two, you get any ice anywhere in my car, I'll slit your throat; three, my car, my music. Last, but not least, you mention women being bad at driving one time - one fucking time - your ass is on the street."

Christopher raised his hand, "I'll pass, wouldn't want to get any fur on your leather," he announced sarcastically. He then made his way into an alleyway located next to the coffee shop. He was out of sight for about ten seconds when the sound of an engine revving could be heard. Christopher pulled out of the alleyway slowly on his motorcycle.



"I'll follow your lead Henry," he shouted over the sound of the engine.

Cassandra ducked her head and sat in Henry's car. Why did it feel like the rule about ice was directed at her personally? Cassandra wouldn't do that to leather, she wasn't stupid. Yet she ducked her head in shame as Henry blasted the music. The music itself wasn't too bad, Cassandra just preferred it... quieter. "Thank you for the ride. I could have used magic to get there, but..." she trailed off, letting the other woman fill in the blanks. She shrunk back into the seat, just barely remembering to buckle the seatbelt as she did so.

She thought more about what could have brought back the dead body, and the feeling of being watched that she'd felt when she left the coffee shop. Even though she acted meek and not that skilled, her past as a 'hitman' was still something she used regularly. Body language, scanning the crowds for unusual activity, and of course, arcane knowledge. It was how she knew Henry hated her, and it was why Cassandra was driving herself insane trying to figure out why. From the get go it seemed that Henry would refuse to talk to her or act as though Cassandra was something rotten stuck to the bottom of her shoe.

Max looked over at Henry, "You gonna open the trunk so I can stash my sword? And I call shotgun. I never ride in the back seat, bad for my image. Let's put the pedal to the metal and get over there. I don't need n any reanimated corpses walking around this city."

He shot Henry a look saying get your ass in gear, as he was anxious to see what exactly was going on with the body. He hoped it wasn't as he feared, but only way to be certain was to actually see what was going on. In his mind, he was preparing for the worst. He had a hunch that went along with his previous vision. If indeed the hell spawn had extracted the victim's soul, then quite possibly, the reanimation was just a demon that decided to inhabit the body as per "Big Man's" orders. Max got a chill up his spine as he felt the thing trialing them get closer.

Max walked over as Henry popped the trunk and he placed his sword in there. It took up the whole length of the trunk diagonally. It's width almost filled up the trunk completely as well. Why he insisted on using this sword, was for his own reasoning, as he felt it the best protection he had. Closing the trunk, he went around the side of the car and opened the passenger side door and hopped in the seat. He turned over and looked at Henry.

"Step on it sister, we got demons to slay."

((check the oc for a short back story on Max's buster sword))

"Don't tell me what to do." Henry huffed but popped the trunk nevertheless. "Fuckin' Max with his fuckin' medieval sword. Guns exist for a reason..." She had muttered once he was slightly out of earshot.

Of course he probably heard anyways, but this was not of Henry's concern. Instead she was fixated on picking a station, alternating between her two favorite classical rock stations. When Max got situated in her seat, she put the car in gear - ignoring the man's tasteless comment beside her - and swerved out of the parking lot. She could hear the sword skitter in the trunk and she growled under her breath, "That hunk of metal better not scratch up my car, Max."

The road was crowded and Henry maneuvered deftly and illegally around the cars, paying no heed to the annoying honks others gave her. "What's the address for this place, again?"

Henry was giving Max trouble about his sword. He couldn't blame her. Even in the sparsely populated coffee shop, it was a wonder nobody had called the police. At least most of the others tried to keep some semblance of a low profile. Concealed firearms, big coats—Finnegan himself had done away with dusty tomes and digitized his own collection of spell books. Add to that the combined knowledge of the Internet, and there was no need to drag books around. A phone and a gun did much these days.

Of course, Finnegan suspected Max was just bloody vain. The sword, his eagerness to ride shotgun, it was right obvious that the lad liked being the leader and acting the part. Maybe a wee bit too much.

Cassandra looked slightly out of it. He gave her arm a light squeeze. "Don't take it personally, love," he murmured to her. "Henry doesn't like anybody much. Hides it behind 'er tough feminist façade. Her bite's not quite as bad as her bark. If you're human, that is."

Looking over from the passenger seat, Max addressed Henry. "I heard that. Your car better not scratch up my sword, it's my baby. But the place is down on 63rd. It's the alley next to Sam's Discount Liquor. You can't miss it. Look, I'm just all amped up here because of what's happening. Sorry if I'm letting my behavior run away with me. I mean no disrespect, but now's not the time for my apologies. It's ass kickin time and I'm ready to send these fucks back to hell."

Max turned back in his seat and just sat there clenching his fists. Out of all the cases they've taken so far, this was surely going to be the biggest one yet. He was excited, but also cautious at the same time. If something got fucked, then hell would just run amok on earth and it'd be complete and utter chaos. Well this was it, he thought. Time to face the big man himself and put an end to his shit.

Cassandra held the seat belt tightly. If she pretended not to notice the horns or the yelling then she might even get through this without dying of a heart attack. Henry always drove so… illegally. Cassandra knew that should have just used a modified flame spell that would allow her to jet around places. That would have been safer than getting in the car with Henry.

She recoiled when Finnegan squeezed her arm, but relaxed at his words. "Feminist? Like the suffragettes? I didn't know they still existed, but… why does that have to result in her being mean to me? I'm really trying… I'm really trying to be friends with you guys…" she didn't voice why she was scared to reach out to them too much. She always figured that sooner or later they'd go away too, like her old family. Everyone died, after all, and she couldn't help but wonder how long until she was alone again. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound whiny…"

It was terrifying when you weren't sure what to expect from someone. Would they lash out at her, or would they be friendly. She liked Max though, she wished she had that kind of social courage. He was always so excited and not afraid of anything. She wished she could get that excited about possibly facing off with Satan, but it felt like she was swallowing glass when she thought about it. She wished she had her e-reader grimoire, so she could read up on spells she could use to neutralize the reanimated body.