Godspeed [cw]

He had many times questioned whether this was a wise decision. To bring along, not only a witch but a witch who had been in a relationship with his enemy. He’d contemplated what he would do if she turned on him, what he would do if Joseph found out, and what he would ask of her on their journey. And even though, he’d thought all this prior to inviting her, his mind couldn't help but remind him that this was his last chance to back out. He didn’t go in requiring much of her help on his case for those reasons, but it had seemed the most reasonable at the time. To take her to the last place her father had been seen, and in return, get her help to take down the demon operation. Arriving at the doorstep of the Little Lamb, he knocked on her door one minute to eight. They didn’t chat much before he took her hand and teleported them to Havana, Cuba. His teleportation ability worked best with skin-to-skin contact, especially at long distances. It minimized the dizziness that oftentimes occurred in the first few minutes.

They arrived on a ragged sidewalk in an alley. He'd purposely chosen a side-road to avoid witnesses, and to their luck, there were none. He let go of Saga’s hand to instead grab her suitcase handle. “The hotel is this way.” He continued down the street, and around the corner was the main road with palm trees separating the cars from the pedestrians, and further ahead of them was a wide-spread beach with turquoise water, glistening in the bright sunlight. The warmth clamped to his skin, feeling nothing like the air in Gaia, and even worse than in the shadow-filled alley. He tugged at the collar of his shirt at the choking feeling of wearing a suit in this heat. But it wouldn’t be long before they’d be inside a cooled-off building. He continued until they reached a grand hotel. A blue neon-sign on the wall spelling the name: Marbella Hotel & Casino.

The lobby was ravishingly decorated and not one item felt out of place. The floor was a sandy marble and the furnishings in colors of beige, white, and gold. The receptionist welcomed them in English, but quickly shifted to a hasty Spanish as she realized Michael spoke her native language. And before long they were handed two key cards. He thanked her before he turned to Saga and handed her one of the cards. He’d also declined the service of the Bellman to escort them and take their bags, so he grabbed a hold of both suitcases as he led them to the elevator. They were both going to be on the third floor, her in room 311 and him in 319. “I have booked a table for us at Miramar restaurant at seven-thirty and have plans to go to the casino subsequently. But until then, feel free to do as you please. I haven’t heard anything new in the case of your father, so we’ll just have to go off the information from last week.” He glanced to her side before the elevator opened and he stepped inside. Michael never took time off unless others encouraged it, and even then, it was difficult to drag him out of that mindset. For all he knew, another murder could be committed the very moment he allowed himself this.

Leaving the elevator, they first stopped by her room where he let go of her suitcase. “If you don't have any other plans, I would like it if you could come by my room once you've settled in. I'm going to be in 319.” Whether she agreed to this or not - meaning they'd first see each other at dinner - he turned on his heel to reach his own room. Once inside, he placed his suitcase on the floor by a dresser and looked around the interior that matched the style of the lobby. It had a king-size bed, a small desk, a table with two chairs, and an area with a coffee machine and a mini-fridge. He walked closer to the window while he took off his suit jacket. Below him was a large pool area with a bar, giving the opposite feel of what lied further ahead. A tall yellow building where a body had been found Saturday night. This new incident only confirmed the importance of his involvement. He then turned away from the window to hang the jacket in the closet by the entrance before he started to unpack.

When the archangel had arrived at her doorstep that Monday evening, following the prestigious Winter Ball, Saga had found herself rather taken back by the fact, that they would be travelling, not via any of the modern human equivalents such as a plane, but by teleportation. By the fact of her previous dissatisfactory memories of him forgiven fully but not forgotten, she remembered his ability to do so. However she had been to believe that such a feat only was possible with the addition of a prayer on the other side. She had thought it to be a guiding line for angels to follow and thereby teleport where they were needed and not something they could do beside that. But with Michael there seemed to be no entirely dull moments. Always full of surprises. Because as they arrived in the chosen alley, there were no one except the two of them. No praying individual on their knees with hands cramped together. The nausea didn’t appear before he let go of her hand and luckily it wasn’t anything more serious than she needed a second to steady herself. By that time Michael had already taken the role of the gentleman, she rarely let him take on and was dragging both the suitcases as he lead the way as well. She followed silently. At first a few steps behind him, since there wasn’t much space on the side walk, but mostly to take in the area. She had, like her companion, probably dressed incorrectly to the weather, as she sported long jeans and even a woolen jumper of sorts. Her reasoning, of course, being the thing about not knowing just how sudden they’d switch from the winter and snow of Oakheart to the exotic climate of Havana. On top of the heat, there was also just something about the air. A feeling of the heated culture. She didn’t remember ever being as far from Europe before…
The hotel, especially the interior, didn’t feel like it matched well with the feel of the streets outside. It was too polished Reminded her an awful lot of the beautiful manor, which had held the gala. For mismatch or not, the place was gorgeous. And while Michael was taking care of thing at the reception, she allowed herself to zone out of their conversation partly not understanding most of what were said anyway. She stayed near him and she kept face, as her intense eyes looked around the entrance hall. Tried to capture every detail. Discreetly searching for hints of what they had actually come for. Demons. Illegal sales. Drugs. Her father.. Silly of her, that last bit. Her father wouldn’t be here. She locked eyes with an older bell’boy’ who was pushing a luggage cage and she was sure it lasted for much longer than just that half a second people usually took before quickly looking away in such a case. But not much more thought went into it before she was handed a keycard - which she politely took - and together with the angel walked to the elevator.

_______

Arriving at her room, she had almost already reached her hand out with the card to unlock her door, when Michael spoke again and automatically she raised her gaze upon him, listening curiously. “I must admit I haven’t done much research on what tourist activities to do here. So, I’ll see you in a bit?” she answered, curling those last few words with a sense of a question. She waited a moment for a confirmation, before she moved on and into her room.

Inside she flourished into her element almost immediately. With the door closed she let go of the suitcase and dragged it instead with magic. She even spun it around for it to easily be laid down on the floor by the end of her bed. The zipper ran across on it’s down and the flap opened up for the stuff inside. And then, first thing first, she undressed. Sighing sighs of relief to remove the warm jumper as well as the clammy pants. Revealing small black, tattoo-looking symbols on her body. Just a couple. Spells she usually wore anyway. These had just been made sure were fresh and ready. Saga could very well have walked to the bathroom to manually freshen up but in her case, it really didn’t take more than a snap of her fingers for the layer of sweat from the short walk in the heat to evaporate.
For the outside world - as well as potential watcher - this looked much like any other newly arrived guest. Only Saga’s attention and focus was seeping elsewhere as she ‘settled in’ as she had been instructed. She sent small pulses through the room, searching for anything Her mind was going over the information she had so far, burning to pull the papers about her father from her suitcase and spread them out on the bed. All the while she pulled a beige T-shirt dress from her case and pulled it over her head, shaking her black locks fluffy. Afterwards she pulled a denim jacket which she strategically tied around her waist to give the proper silhouette.

Maybe twenty minutes to half an hour later the little witch exited her room. Her ebony locks tamed and although her clothes were simple, she had mastered the sense of belonging. Michael’s room wasn’t difficult to find and with a light hand she knocked. And waited.

Tourist activities. His eyes shifted between hers, wondering if she had planned to act a tourist. At least, outside the times where they’d need to go undercover. It would probably seem obvious to most, to experience the culture and history of a foreign place once they were there, and he wasn’t by any means going to stop her from enjoying that part of the trip. He just hadn’t considered doing any of those things himself. He was about to suggest her to see San Cristobal Cathedral but was promptly reminded of what a terrible idea that would be. Neither did he think she’d be interested in going to the military forts as much as he was. So, rather than give her any suggestions, he just did a brief nod. It was probably better that way. For them to spend the afternoon working.

Once he was done unpacking, he leaned over the desk to type the wi-fi password on his laptop. Next to it was a stack of documents, a journal, and his fake passport. The identity he’d taken being a James Buchanan. A name Saga would have heard from the receptionist. The article of Saturday’s murder was already open in his browser. It stated that the woman had been a guest at the hotel and where she was found, but not much about the details surrounding the murder. A sign of them still investigating it.
He then placed a black case on top of the table and rolled up his sleeves just below his elbows. The contents being a silver blade, a flask of holy water, a rosary, a black handgun, a cleaning kit, and ammunition. He unlocked the case to pick up the handgun when he heard a knock on the door. At this, he put it back in its designated place and walked over to open the door. He briefly lowered his gaze as she’d changed to a more weather-appropriate outfit. A youthful, streetwear kind, at that. “Come in.” He moved out of the way so she could pass him before he closed the door. He then walked back inside to sit down in the chair by the table, resuming his task to load the magazine. “Tonight our goal will be to gain any further information regarding the drug, especially its production and delivery.” His gaze was fixed on the gun as he removed the magazine and started loading it with bullets before he moved his eyes to Saga. If they were lucky they'd get that information by tonight. “Have you gathered any new information on your father?” He clicked the loaded magazine into place while still looking at her. “Such as, perhaps why he'd be in Cuba of all places?” he asked, assuming that she'd thought more about his disappearance. And to be honest, Michael didn't remember much of how he seemed the one time he'd met him. He'd been far more focused on his own objective to track the nazi at that time. He put the gun back in its place to pick up the blade instead, sharpening it with a gesture of his hand, then holding it up against the light as if that tested its sharpness. “Also I think it might be best if I am the one to buy a drink tonight. After all, the effect is sure to be punier for an already virtuous being, don't you think?” It was merely a theory, but either way, he deemed it important for one of them to test a small dose of the drug themselves. However, if she disagreed with this, he might reconsider that part of the plan. He placed the blade back before he locked the case, knowing that the cross and holy symbols would be uncomfortable for her to look at.

“Thanks.” Saga strolled inside the moment he opened the door for her, as if it had been her own room and not his. Honestly, she was already completely convinced that he wouldn’t be the type to have anything laying around, he didn’t want her eyes to catch onto. At least not in the sense of anything embarrassing. After all, he had invited her over. And as she scanned the room – more or less identical to her own – she got good feel for this being more of a main place of operation rather than his private quarters, so of course, she was quick to feel at home. She felt the air graze against her as he passed her after closing the door shut and she watch him return to his small preparations. He looked good in the chair. Or maybe it was that he had discarded the jacket for now. But whatever it was, she found him looking more like a man in power then and there than she had experienced until then. “And how are you proposing we get our hands on such information?” she asked, as she moved further into the room. “We’d need to find a way to do something about your aura, if you don’t want to attract any unwanted attention when trying to get closer to any demon involved.” She stopped by the table, standing next to him with about a step length distance. Leaning slightly over the table, she turned the laptop more towards herself, having noticed the article on the screen from the moment, she had stepped inside. Shortly she looked over at Michael with a curious expression, genially interested in hearing his answer. He must have dealt with demons many times before. And the chances of him being able to control his own aura to perfection were hight but in case that wasn’t so, she should have a spell or two which would help.
Her eyes returned to the screen quickly thereafter to run over the text, skimming the content. “I couldn’t find anything about why he would be here, but I did dig up a place that he visited. La Boca del Caballo. A bar in the down town district of Havana,” she explained while she still kept reading perfectly fine. Her Spanish accent was as exotic as her English; non-distinct. But at least she had bothered to learn to pronouns the words she knew correctly. She wasn’t above learning a new language. “I’ll be going there if not this evening before dinner, then first thing tomorrow when the place opens up. You’re welcome to join.” She stood up again, looking back down at Michael. Sitting in his chair, even in flat shoes, she was the taller one.

The little witch caught a minimal reflexion of the setting sun reflexing in the worryingly sharp knife, he held up and inspected, yet it was still enough for her to squint slightly. Just before her shot her dark brows a little further up into her forehead out of surprise. Surprise and amazement. “You know very little of this drug and yet your open to stand as guinea pig without hesitation. However, I would agree with you. The effects, if they’re as we intent, would flourish more prominent in you. Do we have anything about other angels having injected the drug?” Although it being the logical pick of the two – she would have an easier time analysing the effects if she wasn’t the one affected – she still found it to be a foolish move for him to just dive straight in to it.
“Also, this.” She pointed at the laptop, holding an arm over her waist with a light hold in her other arm’s elbow, keeping that arm free to navigate. “This is a very recent murder. Saturday. Just two days earlier. Are we going to be looking more into this as well? If it is involved with the drugs and the demonic organisation, there can be a possibility that she still has this drug in her system. As there been issued an autopsy rapport yet?” she asked, having spotted how the investigation was still fresh and ongoing.

Michael raised his gaze to her. How he proposed they’d get their hands on such information? In all honesty, he’d planned to let that wager in the hands of luck. There was only so much they could do at this point in the investigation, and his angels had already done most of the prep-work. “I should be able to overhear or find any such information in a backroom. They ought to have some documents lying around somewhere. That and ask around.” He’d specifically told his angels not to snoop around to avoid the risk of them getting caught by the demons. While he, on the other hand, had every means to get closer to them. “I’ve got something that conceals my aura,” he addressed her concern. In the inner pocket of his suit jacket was a mint tint. Except the mints were induced with magic. An invention made by a fairy-hybrid in the detective department meant to hide an agent’s angelic aura so they could conduct their work unsuspiciously.

He nodded to acknowledge her reply despite her not looking at him. A local bar that her father had visited was a great place to start. If anything, he'd been rather willing to speak to Michael the one time they'd met, so the odds that he'd spoken to a few of the locals there seemed high. “All right,” he said with his eyes fixed on the weapon at hand. He hadn’t really planned to join much of her investigation, even if it was only fair that he did. But there was a vast distinction between a missing person’s case - someone who purposely didn’t want to be found. And that of a drug operation and murder case.

He looked up at her once he’d locked the case. He understood how it might sound like he was doing it with little consideration to the risks. But that was far from the truth. He knew more about the drug than he’d told her Friday. And more importantly, he knew that the drug was given freely to humans who were much weaker than him, so that alone should indicate that it didn’t pose a great risk for him to ingest. And even if it did affect his morals to a greater degree than expected, it was surely an interesting compound to examine. Because if they could create a drug that made people sin, there ought to be a way to alter the effect to instead enhance virtues. Furthermore, he figured it would go along with his idea to question a bartender. She then asked if any other angels had taken the drug. “No, but I have this report.” He stood up from his seat, grabbing the black case to place it on the floor by the wall. He then searched through the stack of documents on the desk next to the laptop, opening one of the folders onto a page of test results. “They took a small sample of the drug last week and identified these components.” They were categorized as ones that had traces of magic or the supernatural and those who originated in nature. “The technicians assured me the drug wouldn’t be addictive or harmful to ingest.” It was 'just' mind and moral altering. But he had no plans to take more than a few sips, and the human who had tested it in the lab had very mild side-effects.

He then turned his attention to the article on the screen as she motioned to it. “They’re still working on it. But the way they found her indicates that she was sexually assaulted and choked to death,” he replied before he moved his eyes to her. “And perhaps she had the drug in her system, but it’s far more likely that her assailant did.” And that the demon had consumed her soul without any evidence of being at the crime scene, just like he'd theorized. The article further stated that the woman had been on a vacation with her husband. And according to the husband, they’d decided to walk home from the casino that night to their own hotel, only to be met by two guys in a dark alley. They’d knocked him unconscious and nearly killed him as well. It was a terrible story. Michael followed why she thought investigating into that specific murder would grant them useful information, but if they could just get direct intel related to the operation, it’d be much easier to shut it down before another murder occurred. He turned another page in the folder before he grabbed a map laying on the desk. He opened it and picked up a pen to circle a few points of interest from the report. “But, by all means, go visit La Boca del Caballo and see what you can gather on your father,” he allowed, not wanting to hold her back when he didn't require anything specific from her. He’d only planned to prepare for tonight and do as much research on the demon operation as he could, and so, even if it would be nice to have her around, it'd surely be more efficient to divide the tasks between them.

Aha. The archangel truly was prepared. One didn’t have to be masterfully observant to notice how this  operation was only intended for one singular person. Himself. The little with was more of a tag-along. An extra precaution to ensure a success. This, of course, had been thing she had concluded even before they had met that afternoon in front of her place, but still she found herself a surprised in that moment. It almost just felt wrong not to help more directly. She had thought, she had ideas. She was calculated, even she knew that. And still she only looked at him, while he explained and replied on her inputs. Looked at him with a calm and analyzing gaze. Listened carefully so she would remember, just like she always did. Only the moment he laid out another report out in front of her, did her blue eyes turn away from his and own on the table. Down on the paper. Out of habit she stepped closer to him to then have a better look at the documents he had on display. Even standing she didn’t really need to lean down much to properly skim over the written words, however after a little bit of time, she ended up just picking it up to read with a better posture and focus. So neither addictive nor harmful. Only part-time mind-alternating. “Whoever made this drug knows exactly what there’re doing, huh,” she noted before finally taking her eyes from the thorough test results and placed it back down where she had taken it. Her eyes not returning to Michael but instead wandered over what she could gather from the rest of the papers - snippets of text or pictures or titles sticking through the stack. “It’s easy to make a drug and have it be additive after all. Even easier to make it harmful. Especially concerning magical component. Magic isn’t always a safe bet. I can see why you personally took this… mission..” She couldn’t help but feel weird about that word. Like they were agent. Which she most certainly wasn’t. She raised her eyes to him for the last few words. “…To make sure this is stopped immediately.”

She took a step back again, recreating the proper distance between the two as well as giving way for them to return focus to the computer sure, where she automatically looked back at when he spoke, debunking her original theory and she lifted her chin and tilted her head as if to say ‘ah’. So, the murder hadn’t more to do with the drug than the women - and her husband - being at the wrong place at the wrong time. The husband was still alive. But now she didn’t see how useful he’d even be. Although… She looked at Michael, contemplating.
Whether she had been just about to say what she had on her mind before her curiosity brought her thoughts down to the map and then the listen to his close to dismissing of her company or not, she remain silent about it. She shortly looked over her shoulder to the door and then out the window where the sun was breaming bright orange. And then back at Michael. “I will,” she simply replied a faint but sweet smile on her lips as she made and effort to turn the computer the right angle it had been before she had meddled with it, as if to reset everything for him to go back to his work. She then turned around and walked to the door. Even opening it and being as good as out before she stopped in the doorway. “I’ll see you for dinner, Mr. Buchanan.” And she was out. Leaving him to his as he left her to hers.


It had been hours since they had arrived. Saga had found herself standing in front of the mirror in her hotel room’s bathroom. Beige marble surrounding her with a luxurious bathroom just to the side of her. Words were running through her head on repeat while she concentrated on the last few adjustments. Quite the disguise there.. Those were the very first words the bartender at La Boca del Caballo had said to her even before she had gotten the chance to do or say anything herself. She had been mistaken. For someone looking very much like her. And the ball had just kept rolling after that. She wasn’t certain if she had gotten useful information or she was just… relieved to be hearing something abou her father. She still needed time to sit down and go over it. But time hadn’t been in her favor.
She pressed her burned red painted lips together, spreading the not-so-blotted lipstick more evenly out. Her short hair was brushed and glossy but kept both loose and natural. She pulled the lesser side of the side-part behind her ear before leaving the bathroom, turning of the light with a flick of her hand rather than pushing the button. She looked to the clock on the bedside table just as she grabbed terracotta coloured heels. 19:23. There was still time. In the last bit of hurry she put on the heels and got out of the door.

“Emmeleen Kraussman. I’m supposed to meet with a James Buchanan.” “Si, señorita. A table is being prepared for you. You can wait with your company at the bar for the time.” Saga nodded, scouting into the restaurant as she was gestured further in, finding the bar area at the end of the room. Slightly detached to the rest of the restaurant seating by just the slightest bit of wall at the edges. And she walked with confidence that didn’t expose her usual lack of high heels in her daily routines, to the bar. Would Michael already be there? If he was, he’d be the first thing to locate before making herself comfortable at the bar.

He stepped aside to let her read the documents for herself. “I suppose that’s how it succeeded to run under the radar for so long. No one suspected a thing until the murders started happening.” He looked from the documents to her. The drug was subtle and yet terribly destructive when overdosed. At least, he thought it to be because they’d overdosed. And if someone already had ill morals, perhaps it was all it took for their behavior to escalate to murder. He nodded to her elaboration. It seemed that she’d started to realize why he had chosen to personally pursue this mission. And she was right. All he could do was focus on taking down this operation as soon as possible. To not let these demons get away with their crimes any longer.
Michael looked from the map to her as she said she’d go to the bar, giving her a curt nod. After all, he hadn’t meant to keep her in the room with him if she had other plans that afternoon. And he didn’t think he’d be needed at the bar if she simply intended to ask around regarding her father. Besides, he still had a few more things to prepare for tonight. “Later, Ms. Kraussman.” His lips tilted upwards at her use of their cover names, even if there were no one else around. And once she left, he grabbed the chair to the desk to sit down as he continued his research. He flipped in one of the folders until he reached a map of the hotel. Looking for any backrooms he could enter tonight, as well as any possible secret storage for their drug, should they keep them at this location.

The next hours flew by, and as the sun was setting around 18.30, he stopped his investigation. Feeling like he had a clear plan in mind regarding the evening. He stood up from his seat, scarcely cleaning up the papers before he closed the laptop and went into the bathroom to take a shower and shave. He changed into a blue indigo suit with a matching tie and a pair of cognac oxfords. His hair was styled semi-formally to one side with pomade, and a brown-leather watch was secured around his wrist. He looked at it once he was done. There was still fifteen minutes to his dinner reservation, but if anything, he could just wait by the bar until the table was ready and Saga would arrive.
_____

He’d ordered a glass of sauvignon blanc to avoid the possibility of them drugging him before dinner. It would surely ruin the plans he’d so delicately made. There was only another couple at the bar beside him, so he took the opportunity to converse with the bartender. He’d first asked about the wine, which had turned out to be a larger topic of interest as she was quite the wine enthusiast. He had then asked how long she’d been employed here. Trying to get an idea of how much she knew about the hotel and its management. She replied that she’d only worked at the hotel for one month, and so he doubted that she knew much. She’d probably not even seen the owners. He took a sip of his wine as he decided to end his questioning. To save it for one of the bartenders inside the casino. She then asked about his work, and he told her that he was in Cuba for business for an international company. And just as he finished, he turned his head to see Saga in the distance. He placed his arm on the table, turning his body slightly in her direction. The bartender said something about how exciting that must be, and that she’d always wanted to travel the world until she realized that his company had arrived and hence that their conversation was over. “Hi,” he greeted once Saga approached him at the bar. The waiter was quick to ask her what she wanted to drink, and once Saga answered, he spoke again, “How did it go at La Boca del Caballo?” He had wondered about this a couple of times that afternoon. Even that she might have gotten so caught up in her investigation that she wouldn't make it to their dinner reservation. But he was happy to see that this wasn't the case.

It was nothing new, how the archangel stood out in the crowd even with, what she would hope a use of those aura-supressing remedies of his. Of course, her scouting the room for his recognisable figure did help with ease of spotting him. Already arrived and standing by the bar, as she had been notified. She could tell, at a distance, just how comfortably he fell into these kinds of surroundings. Dressing the part. Acting the part. He had even perfected how to stand and move so to not create any unflattering folds in his suit. She had noticed that at the gala as well. She reached him within a few more steps and placed herself beside him, front turned towards him and a very faint lean towards the bar. “Hi,” she simply copied him, greeting him back before turning her head to the conversive bartender. “A sparkling water with a single rum-soaked cherry and lime slice, please.” The bartender might only have worked at the restaurant for about a month, but she was clearly an experienced drink-tosser, since she didn’t even blink and eye at the strangely specific order. Saga was not planning on getting the least bit drunk that evening. With alcohol in her blood, her magic would very easily end up back-firring. And the little witch knew her limits. Somewhat anyway. She knew just how little of the stuff she’d need to tip over the edges of slightly tipsy and on the verge of going under.

As the bartender did her thing, Saga returned the attention fully to Michael. But she did step back onto a chair’s foot support and then with a hand on the bar counter for balance, she got up and sat down at the chair before she actually looked back at him. ”Good. He had been there,” she started out, intentionally not referring to her father as such. They were in a danger zone, being there at the hotel to close to what they – or he had come to stop. There could be ears and eyes everywhere and she was aware of how careful they had to be with their words.
A tall clear glass was placed in front of her with a little dark blue napkin as a coaster, matching Michael’s choice of suit pretty well. “I had only just stepped inside when the bar keep saw me and started laughing out of nowhere. Turned out that he mistook me for none other than Rhyss himself.” While retelling her findings and weird experience, she ran the slice of lime along the rim of her glass before then squeezing it and dropping it onto the glass of sparkling water to then be stirred with a provided thin straw. Pushing the bright red cherry, that had laid nicely on the ice filling the glass, further into the liquid. The dark rum it had been soaked in, slightly darkening the clear drink. “Apparently he had been talking to the bar keep about needing a disguise which the bar keep had thought had led Rhyss to use a gender reverse spell on himself.” Saying it out loud made it sound even more comical, and she felt the same as she had felt when she had been given the information herself. It was too light-hearted. She could easily see why that had been the case, with those two being mistaken for each other. She wasn’t blind to how much she took after her own father. She sighed softly. “After that the bar keep got silent. He wouldn’t disclose anything he knew about Rhyss. Only that he wasn’t in town anymore. And that he was looking for something. And he needed a disguise.” It was all pretty concerning.

“I presume you got work done yourself. Got any leeway with the business plan?” she asked, expecting him to know exactly what she was talking about. That was their cover. Business. Gently she tilted her head and looked at him with interested eyes.

He had been there. That was a great start. Although, he could be across the world now, for all he knew. He raised his brows as she revealed that the barkeep mistook her for her father, awaiting her to explain why this was. He nodded slowly as he raised the wine glass to his lips. It made sense that her father sought a disguise. Something to hide his identity. Even if that meant a gender-changing spell. And he understood why it was the barkeep’s first intuition. Saga did look remarkably like her father. He placed the wine glass on the table once she revealed that her father wasn’t in town anymore, looking at the bottles at the bar’s shelves. It was a shame. Perhaps, he hadn’t needed to bring her along at all then. It seemed that her father had most likely moved on to another city entirely. “You have no idea where he’s gone now then?” he asked as he returned his eyes to her. If not, then it certainly seemed like a waste to have brought her with him. That was if she trusted the barkeep’s words about him not being in Havana. “Did he say what he was looking for?” Perhaps this would lead them back to him. If not, he couldn’t know where he’d gone. He’d not been very outspoken about his intentions in Paris the one time they had met. Granted that Michael hadn’t really asked about it either.

As she turned the attention to himself, he nodded briefly. “I have.” He glanced at the bartender who was preparing an order of cocktails for a table before he leaned in. Nearing her ear. “I’m going to sneak into their back-office after dinner,” he revealed before he leaned back. If he was lucky, he’d hear or find something of use there. He didn’t know if it was easy to perform an invisibility spell for witches, but either way, it’d surely be fine if he did it on his own. Besides, it might be great if she could talk to some tourists or staff at the casino in the meantime. A waiter then approached the bar. “Mr. Buchanan. Your table is ready. If you’ll follow me,” he bowed soberly before he led them to a table near a window. Michael quickly took the seat closest to the wall, giving him the greatest overview of the restaurant. The waiter explained the specialty of the day before he left. Michael looked after him for a moment before he turned his eyes to Saga. “So, the barkeep didn’t give you any clues to where he might have gone?” he asked. Surely, he must have told him something. If he talked of a disguise. And the barkeep had assumed her to be him in a gender-reversed spell. He must have known of the supernatural. That ought to count for something. He lowered his gaze to the menu, flipping a few pages before deciding on a meal. “The owner’s named Lorenzo Zamora. So if you hear that name, try to gain more information from the person who mentioned him.” He looked up at her as he closed the menu again.

Saga sighed. ”Like I said, the barkeep wouldn’t say much more. And not because he didn’t know anything else, I’m betting.” The barkeep had even had the audacity to revert straight back into advance and fast-spoken Spanish shortly after she had disclaimed how she wasn’t Reuben Rhyss but indeed his daughter, which had removed any way for her to understand. She could still feel the magic tingling in her fingers, as she had been about to cast a translation spell on the man, but… she had simply said her goodbyes then and walked out of the bar. Eyes glued to her. She hadn’t been able to put a finger on with whish primary emotion they had been looking at her. She didn’t trust the words of the barkeep. Not every one of them. But she found it frustrating how she had to read between lines and not just get the information she wanted and needed. The barkeep had seem so friendly before she had pointed out his mistake, so he must have been on good terms with her father. But not towards her. It had felt like with her mother, engraving the possibility that the secret was only kept from her. Unintentionally her eyes looked over Michael, realizing that the archangel would be of help to her as more than just a traveling agent.

She noticed him leaning in, leaning just a little bit closer herself in a way to meet him a fifth of the way. His plan did surprise her, she couldn’t deny that. She had thought of him as someone much like herself in many ways, which was a part of why she was so open for his company, but on this they were very different. “Quite a bold move. Tread lightly,” she whispered just before he pulled back. Just in time for their time at the bar came to a close. She carefully got out of the high bar chair and followed around. Leaving her drink at the bar desk to feel abandoned only after a few touched of her lips.
In the end, the fact that Michael quickly had taken ownership of the room-turned seat, was a hidden relief for the waiter, who then didn’t have to squeeze in between window and chair back to hold the chair out for the miss. This wasn’t the first time she had seen Michael do just that but then it hadn’t been a pattern. She said a soft thanks when she was given the menu, running her eyes down over it as they were left to themselves. Only when Michael broke the silence, did she looked up, not actually excepting him to keep showing interest in her own person hunt. But she wasn’t one to let a question be unanswered. “I’m sure he thought he didn’t,” she said, lowering the menu down on the plate arrangements. “But he was lying about Rhyss having left town. He’s English was limited, far from fluent which usually make someone who wouldn’t want to embarrass themselves more conscious of what words to use. Especially with someone with a better English speaker. And also…” Closing the menu for just a moment, she stuck a hand down into her dress’ pocket and pulled out a piece of the hotel rooms notepad and slid it over the table to Michael. On the paper was a rough sketch of a symbol. A sigil. An advance one. “This is a sort of.. cloaking ward. It’s useful when wanting to keep something out of sight… and in this case.” She pointed at a specific part of the sigil as if he would understand the magical weaving and build of witches magic. “.. out of mind. It means whatever it hidden can’t be sensed either. I found noticed it on one of the ceiling planks in the bar when I left.”

She picked up the paper again and sat properly back in her chair, elegantly folding it into the same small size so it fit back in her pocket. She’d need to take a closer look at it to see any resemblance to her father work. Confirm that it is indeed his and not some other shady witch in town. She had just about opened her menu again, when she were allowed further fact about the actual mission that had them where they were. Automatically she looked towards him, but as he was done, her eyes found the pages of dishes to choose from as she replied: “Yes. Lorenzo Zamora, is there anything pointing him to have a direct hand in what’s going on?” With the drugs. “Is he only offering accommodations for the organisation?”
The conversation was interrupted by a waiter returning to their table to take their orders. As well as… placing Saga’s unfinished drink beside the empty wine- and water glasses on her side of the table. She quickly turned her attention to order the boliche but as soon as the waiter turned to Michael a discreetly furrowed glance landed on the drink.

He only asked to know if there were any possible signs that could lead her closer to her father’s whereabouts. Otherwise, it seemed like her trip to the bar had been in vain. But if she at least got the feeling that the barkeep knew more, he supposed that was better than nothing. He automatically assumed that she’d tried bribing him, but if he’d denied that as well, it had to mean that he’d done something to help her father. Or simply that her father had threatened him if he ever were to tell anyone about their business.
Michael looked into her eyes as she expressed disapproval of his plan. Not disagreement, per se. But it annoyed him. How she, for the second time that day, expressed surprise or doubt regarding his plans. Because, just how many times had she investigated a demon operation? And even if she had. How could she have so little faith in him? He didn't appreciate it the least. Not unless she came up with a better idea. He breathed out and looked away from her to the bartender, downing the rest of his drink. It was going to be a long trip if she kept that up. “I’ll be careful,” he promised. Not because he thought this to be her major concern. More so, that it led to her getting herself in danger, coming to his rescue. But that was merely part of the risk of going on a mission with him.

As he asked about her case a second time, she let him in on a few more details. He had the feeling she’d had more luck with the barkeep if Michael had gone along with her. And not just because he spoke Spanish fluently, but because he had no close relation to Reuben, and that his angelic aura usually made people tell him things that they otherwise wouldn’t. He lowered his gaze as she slid a note across the table. He stared at it for a moment, contemplating whether he’d seen that symbol before. But before he came to any conclusion to what it was, she revealed that it was a cloaking ward. And he realized the specific part of the sigil she pointed to was indeed part of many warding symbols. “And you think this means he assured that no one would remember his presence at the bar?” he asked, not quite sure if this was the reason for him using it. But it would explain how he’d been so difficult for her to track for all this time.

The conversation returned to the case that would take up their time that night. “Yes. I sent him to hell four centuries ago for manipulating humans to murder. I think he has some sort of sin-inducing ability, which would explain the effect of the drug.” It was nothing new that demons were on Earth to corrupt humans and make them do despicable things. And although he’d seemingly tried to hide his operation as much as possible, it was obvious that he’d taken part in creating this drug. He just used the hotel and casino to help cover up for his crimes. And it had worked up until this point. He raised his gaze to the waiter, ordering a seafood dish as well as another glass of sauvignon blanc. He then looked at the drink that the waited had returned to Saga. His paranoia got the best of him for a moment. But surely, the waiter had just returned her the same exact drink she’d ordered earlier. Without adding the drug to it. “So, I gotta ask... What's your relation to Joseph? I know that you used to be in a relationship. And that Joseph still is quite fond of you. At least, he's told me to stay away from you, so it's probably for the best that you don't tell him about this trip.” If she considered herself on good terms with Joseph, it'd only complicate things further, but nevertheless it was something he needed to know prior to seeking him out.

“No,” she calmly replied to his initial theory as she led the words hang in the air for just long enough that one could easily think that she had nothing more to say on the matter. And yet small thing within her body language - the way her lips rested only very lightly on top of each other, not fully closed - were there to warn someone observant that there was more awaiting to roll of her tongue which showed true when she continued. “Not this one. A ward or spell with such attributes would usually be found by the entrance or exit of a room or building. Creating a veil which upon walking through cloaks the mind. No. This is there to hide someone or something from all senses. Done right not even someone extremely sensitive to the presence of others won’t even be able to catch a whiff. Of course a ward like this isn’t perfect. It’s possible to sense around what’s hidden. Like noticing a negative space.” She raised her eyes towards his, looking deep into the green valleys they made her think of. “If Rhyss wanted to only stay hidden from a handful of individuals this would be the best ward to set up.” she lastly state, clarifying her suspicion into something more concrete. She had been hesitant of letting the archangel too close to the things with her father, speaking of it in an almost cryptic way - partly out of habit, actually - but perhaps it was best to not leave him to ring his brains about what she might be thinking.
“The thing is just; who? I doubt I’m the only one he doesn’t wish to know about his whereabouts.” She hid I well but it did pull at something in her. The thought of her own father not wanting to be found by his daughter. Was it… anger?

Luckily she was quickly pulled away from the edge of the whole before she could get too close to potentially fall in it, as Michael revealed that the demon, they were there for, wasn’t exactly a stranger to the angel and Saga instinctively looked to him with slightly widened eyes to express her surprise about this. Michael was a man well-known, there wasn’t any doubt about that. She should know. She had known about him even before he had stepped inside her store. Known his face. His name. More than she had so far told him about. She knew more about him that he knew about her. And dampening his aura wouldn’t change the fact that Lorenzo would recognize Michael the moment he saw his face.
Sudden it made sense how her company went as bold as to move quickly. It suddenly didn’t seem as reckless a plan for him to sneak around the back and let her take the front. It would be more risky for him to be a front face. “He must be rather persistent if he crawled his way back out of Hell to return to his renaissance schemes,” she commented, trying to get a read of the demon before even having meet the man. This told her just how old he possibly was. How much experience he had to go by. And of course, the commitment. There was a probability that he was sickly blind to the fiasco after countless needles piecing his eye in Hell. And there was a probability that he wasn’t. “I’ll be make sure to eavesdrop. And take note of anything mentioning him. Anything more I should know about him?” Lorenzo Zamora. Surely such a man wouldn’t be hard to dig information up on.

It had felt like mere moment since they had ordered their first meal, when a waiter joined them yet again with a perfectly white plate in each hand. Per reflex and proper etiquette, Saga straightened her back and leaned slightly back to make room for him to place one of them in front of her. And then almost as if on roller skates, glided around and placed the other in front of Michael.
It was a shame of being Saga to a place like this. She simply didn’t appreciate food like how it should. And she barely paid any more attention to the description of the dishes and what wine he’d recommend for them - trying to have her agree to a glass of red zinfandel for the beef; it’s sweetness pairing great with the spice from the chorizo center - than she had to. The waiter had scarcely left them and she had only just reached for her knife and fork when Michael could no longer keep his curiosity in control. She stiffened by the name and a surge of immediate hostility oozed from her poise natured self. Her grip around the knife might have looked elegant but for a while she held it with more force.
Slowly she looked up at him, not letting him escape the intensity of her blue eyes. Her tongue gently licked the space between her lips and it was visible through her shoulders how she took a deeper breath. Maybe he didn’t know less about her than she knew about him.. “My relation with Joseph is that of the past. However he has truly been squeezing himself in every crack as of late, hasn’t he.” He had forced her involvement with the link through Ajax, a dirty move. “It’s correct that we were once together. We worked closely together and he intrigued me. He’s no good man, but interesting nonetheless,” she admitted as she turned her eyes to her sparkling water, holding her hand over it and gently swirling her middle-finger to let the cherry swirl around with it. She didn’t like talking about Joseph. It annoyed her how many who wanted to do so with her. “I believe what you think is ‘fondness’ is possessiveness,  Michael. And it suits no man - nor woman.” She didn't believe Michael. Joseph cared about noone.

He leaned back with the wine glass in hand as she elaborated on the meaning of the symbol. He knew that without her, he’d either missed a symbol like that or spent a long time researching its meaning. When she raised her eyes to his, stating that last sentence. He realized that he might be the key to finding him. It made sense. Why she hadn’t been able to find him for this long if he’d targeted his spells to certain individuals. He took a sip of the wine as he contemplated who else he could be hiding from. But he knew very little of the situation. He’d barely even read the report he’d been given because his mind had been focused elsewhere. “Perhaps I should go with you next time.” He didn't think he'd try to hide from him. After all, they've had that conversation back in Paris, and he hadn't seemed the least on edge. In fact, he’d been rather willing to help him with the tracking spell. “There was something, however. I remember him requesting a white flower from Eden. One that only grows there. Talked something about it resembling purity. I don’t know what he needed it for but I figured it was to break a curse or something of that sort. Of course, I couldn’t give him that, so I offered a different payment. And I told him that they were similar flowers in Wonderland. That he should try to get his hands on one of those instead.” He didn't know if it was related to his disappearance. It could as well be about something else entirely. Just him seeing an angel and taking the opportunity to ask for a rare collectible. But for the chance that it wasn't, he thought he should let her know.

Saga seemed surprised to know that he’d dealt with the demon before. But even if he hadn’t, there would be a good chance of any demon recognizing him. Michael had been on Earth for a long time fighting its evil, so it was a simple consequence of that. He chuckled lightly at her comment about Zamora. “Unfortunately, yes.” He was sure that the demon thought that Michael wouldn’t be onto him. Especially not this soon. But the angels were quite persistent as well. “No. He’s probably just running things behind the scenes. We’ll most likely not face him until the end if at any point.” Once they'd figured out more about the operation. He did hope that he was on the island, however. That way he could send him back to Hell and make sure that he wouldn’t just rise from this again and start it up somewhere else.

Michael looked up as the waiter approached their table, placing the wine glass back on the table and straightening his posture. He listened to the waiter politely, sending him thanks on the way before he returned his attention to Saga. Clearly, he’d poked to something by asking that question. Already from her initial reaction, he figured that they weren’t on good terms. This was only great news to him. She confirmed this by telling him that it was a relation of the past. “Indeed,” he agreed. He had gone way too far these past months. It was almost as if he was desperate to achieve something with how chaotically he’d gone about his business. And especially from the number of people he’d involved. With his gaze on the plate, he pushed some food onto his fork. He briefly raised his brows as she admitted to finding him interesting. Something that was quite impossible for him to see. And more so, he’d not expected a woman like her to fall for someone like him. It was amusing in a way. That’s why he’d teased Joseph the first time he’d told him about it. He took the bite into his mouth and leaned back as he chewed on it, looking at her for a moment. “I don’t know. I’ve never really seen him talk like that about anyone. But you might be right.” He took another sip of the wine. Often love went together with a certain degree of possessiveness. But he could tell that she didn’t want to talk more about him, so he just left it at that. All he really wanted to know was whether she still considered herself close to him.

He… He wanted to join her? This statement instantaneously had her raise her brows at him. He had seemed anything but interested in her own personal agenda the last time around, something which at the time had surprised her. The search for her father had been what ultimately had been his business speech to have her help him with this demonic organization, after all. But she had realized this had only been failed observation from her side of things. And then now… Now he had changed his mind? She felt the tuck in the corners of her mouth although the satisfied smile might not have been apparent enough to actually show. This did indeed please her. It even gave her some more insight to what made the archangel give in, even if it this time hadn’t been intentional. Her eyes had only just lowered from him, when he spoke again and this time her whole head lifted together with the stunned glance. Her eyes had widened remarkably by the information, making it impossible to hide how taken back she became. He couldn’t have… “I believe I’m familiar with the flower. Not the one of Eden but the one in Wonderland,” she reveals as her facial expression calmed and softened, her eyes returning to her plate as she cut her the first bite of the Cuban specialty. The knife, sharp, went through the meet with ease that also came from the expected cooking. “But I’d have to admit my doubts about something like that being as much of a purifier than a flower of Eden” Or an archangel’s feather. “I tried blooming one of these ‘Mother’s Bane’ as I know them as. But the ritual was incomplete and instead had me summon a Hellhound.” If that was possible one could really only suspect it to have roots that were less pure or Heavenly. Nothing would truly be able to be compare or stand as a substitute where something as holy as those two items were needed. Not to her experiences, anyway.
“With that, though..” Again, she gazed up at him where she presented him with… a smile. Not just the hints of one. ”I’d appreciate your company next time so you’re welcome.” She kept looking him in the eye before just when she moved her fork to her lips and took her first bite of her meal, making her aware of just how long it had been since she had eaten. And even as someone who didn’t have much care for food, she could still tell if something was bad or good - or exquisite. This didn’t disappoint.

“Noted,” she expressed, and she did truly note it down in her mind. This would be her own little playground with only very few guidelines. She really didn’t mind. Having work alone for the most part, this only made her job easier to do from what she expected. However, she had also taken note to how Michael had expressed that they’d be standing face to face to the demon. Not now. But at some point. She discreetly peeked a look to the other side of the table. What plans did the angel have in mind, she wondered as she put down her knife and reached for the drink by her side. There had been clear caution about drinking from the glass again, and yet she held it to her lips and sipped it only to find that nothing had changed. The fizziness was exactly as expected. And she noticed no stranger added taste. Perhaps caution wasn’t to be taken as intensely.

It was really sort of impressive just how much a simple mentioning of the siphoner could bring certain feelings up in Saga. None with were to be considered as ‘good’. His name in junction of her own involvement with him tense her body automatically and Michael would be right to think she wasn’t fond of talking about the man. To the little witch, whatever had happened between the two, she didn’t understand the interest. “Before him walking into his spotlight last year, I hadn’t seen anything to him for little under a century. Howbeit Joseph was one of the few how told me the most about you.” The grip about the knife had loosened from the tension, and she did well in not cutting the knife forcefully into the plate, but she couldn’t quite get rid of the …slight clue of exhaustion in her voice.
Under the table, her legs crossed and moved under the chair as she leaned forward. Still holding the knife gently in her fingers, she placed and elbow on the table’s edge and rested her chin on the back of her hand before finishing of her point: “He talked a lot about you, in fact. Should I believe that he was quite fond of you too?”

She was right to have her doubts. It wasn’t comparable to the holy purity of the flower from Eden. But it was the closest thing he could think of at the time. He took a drink of his water as she explained that she was familiar with the flower from Wonderland, but nearly choked as she nonchalantly added the fact that she’d summoned a Hellhound. He managed to swallow the water before he cleared his throat. “Hellhound?” Those were quite rare and from his experience not something you'd want to accidentally summon. “Are your rituals always that dangerous to perform?” If that was the consequence of one of them going wrong, he could only imagine the things she’d seen as a result of them. “I guess I pointed him in the wrong direction with that flower then.” He smiled briefly, thinking that if it had been able to do that, it surely wasn’t the kind of purifying ingredient he had wanted. However, it did still carry a great amount of magic, so it was probably still valuable for him to get his hands on. Even if it wasn’t going to serve his initial purpose.
He took another bite of his dish and glanced at the people in the restaurant, doing so every now and then for anything suspicious or a recognizable face. However, he looked back at her in time to see a smile on her lips. Telling him that she’d appreciate his company next time. “Great.” He returned her smile before taking a small sip of his water. If he did so much to hide from her, it would surely make it easier for them to find him that way. Even if the other mission still was of priority to him.

A little under a century was a long time. So perhaps he wasn’t so interested in Saga as he'd initially thought. Because even he had seen much more to Joseph than that. It hardly surprised him that Joseph would talk about him or anyone else that he’d worked with. But it did make him wonder just how much she knew about him prior to their first meeting. Michael rested the cutlery on the edge of the plate as she leaned forward, emphasizing that he had talked a lot about him and that perhaps it meant he was fond of him too. But he couldn’t help but scoff and brush it off, because it seemed absurd to him that he’d have any fond feelings for him. “Oh no. I mean you saw what he caused back in October. All because of a small warning.” He knew how much something like that would anger him. That it’d destroy whatever good state they had been in for the past years. And if she was attempting to tease him, it didn't work. Her having actually been in a relationship with him took the cake on that. “What things did he tell you?” he asked, not helping his curiosity. He was quite used to people knowing about him, but it was different when the knowledge came from someone he’d worked closely with. One who at the same time was his enemy.


After dinner, they’d moved into the casino. It was painted in darker colors, closer to that of a night-club, but still with the same extravaganza that the rest of the hotel had. He placed an arm around her waist, leaning slightly closer to her as he whispered; “I’ll go check out the back. Just stay here until I return. In the meantime, do whatever you can to blend in.” He looked out at the tables in the casino. Most of which were surrounded by interested guests. At one end of the room was a stage where a female singer was performing. He then turned his gaze to Saga, noticing that her pupils had dilated, but blamed it on the dim lighting. He flashed her an assuring smile before his hand glided off her and he walked across the casino to the washroom. Once he was alone, he used his ability to become invisible. Then sneaking out the next time a guest opened the door. And again, in front of the staff door. He then turned to the left, remembering the route to the office from the blueprint. He reached the door and listened for any sounds before he grabbed the door handle. But it was locked, so he had to try to pick it or teleport inside. However, he wasn't keen on wasting powers, so he looked to each side of the hallway before he reached for his lockpick and started to unlock the door. The sound rattled rather loudly in the hallway, but once it clicked, he quickly went inside. He closed the door silently and looked around the pitch-black office. He didn’t want to turn on the light in case it would alarm people walking by, instead, he used a small flashlight that only lit up whatever he was pointing at. He took some time looking through documents until he finally stumbled upon a contract stating different dates and amounts for a shipment. Bingo. He took time to write the information down in his own notepad. He looked through a few more documents, writing anything down that he suspected was connected to the drug-business. But what he really needed was to find the secret safe. He thought there was a good chance that he kept the formula for the drug or anything else of high value in there. He'd spent a couple of minutes cleaning up his mess to instead search for that, but amid this, voices came nearer. It wasn't Zamora's, gratefully. But it still sounded like they were coming straight for the office.

Michael quickly placed a book back before he looked around for any other sign of his break-in. But it seemed that he'd cleaned it up well. And then the two men came inside. “I have the first part of your payment in here. You'll get the next half in two weeks.” A broad-shouldered man, a demon, came forth. Michael moved out of the way, which was difficult when he already had to hold his breath, not wanting the demon to hear the slightest sound from him. He walked right to a painting on the wall that he removed and behind it was a safe hidden in the wall. There were stacks of cash inside. But it was hard to see if there was anything else. For all he knew, he wasn't hiding that kind of information in here. The demon put the money in a bag for the guy and they shook hands before agreeing to get a drink at the bar. But just as they both were about to leave the room, the demon looked back. Right at Michael and then at the desk, as if he had heard or sensed something. It was his heartbeat. It had to be. But he dismissed it. And once the door shut, Michael inhaled a much-needed breath. Thanking the Lord that he'd ended up confusing the sound of his heartbeat with those of the adjacent rooms. He waited until he couldn't hear their voices anymore, then slowly walked outside and back to the washroom where he'd change back to his visible form. He walked towards the bar, then stopping to scan the casino for Saga. Thinking that it probably was best that he talked with her before he went ahead and bought a drink.

Michael sounded almost surprised to hear that the rituals she reformed maybe wasn’t as safe as they could be, which in and of itself surprised her. She had thought it was obvious. Not only to her but to all witches. Magic wasn’t particularly safe. However even when just centralizing around her as an individual magic performer, she would’ve still thought that it would be evident. The stuff she did, the business she ran.. She wasn’t really the purest of magic users and she never really hid that. “For the most parts, yes. Every spell can be dangerous if performed incorrectly. But I believe it to have much to do with one’s faith in their own abilities which if why I don’t fray from the more advanced rituals,” she explained with close to the same level of nonchalance, which she had just told him about the hell hound, and cut herself another piece of the meal in front of her. He wouldn’t be wrong that even if the flower wouldn’t be of use to whatever her father was planning - she hoped that it had nothing to do with what she was suspecting - there would still be something to use it for. It wasn’t something that was readily available outside of Wonderland. And Wonderland wasn’t usually a place one could just visit. Although she’d think it would be and easier task for fairies. They felt more bonded with that world than witches. Than even angels, now that she thought about it. Angels were creatures of this world. And only this world. Strange. Interesting.

October. Ah yes. “Must’ve been his pride dominating his mind. Tell him that he can’t do something and you’ll be sure that he’ll do it. I’m sure you’re well aware of that trait of his.” Saga looked into Michael’s eyes as she got reminded of the way he had looked at her back then. A look that wouldn’t have made anyone guess that four months later the two of them would be working together. As much of a team as they could be. She pulled back again, holding her cutlery properly again and not showing such bad table manner as to have an elbow on the table. “He told me enough for me to recognise you when you visited my place that first time. And he told me about the time you trapped him back then. Which I have to admit was the biggest reason why it disappointed me to hear you trusted him. Trusting the words of someone who they casted away in another prisonlike dimension sounds silly, doesn’t it? I understand now there was more to it than just that.” She sighed silently as if to wave the issue away. That quarrel was over now.
Their conversation kept going as smoothly as it had from the beginning. There never occurred any awkward silences between them. It was as if they just always had something to talk about. Small talk. And it was… nice. Their dinner was tasteful. And when they left the table, the glass of spiced sparkling water was nearly finished. The vibrant cherry had been reduced to only the stem and pit left on her napkin.

The hand on her waist wasn’t anything she had expected and while she didn’t react to it, she did feel a sense of awareness of its placement. Much like his whispering voice. It wasn’t any different from the one he had spoken with by the bar before their dinner… She slowly turned her head towards him, as he pulled back and removed his arm again, locking eyes with him one last time as if to confirm his request. Blend in. She could do that. She’d done it many times before.

With the archangel away to do his part, the intense eyes of the little witch started scanning the room. Watching the décor, drawing a map in her head of what she could see. Observed the people, how they laughed and smiled and raged and spat. All depending on their luck by the tables. She breathed easily and felt a tingling in her fingertips as she moved further into the casino area where she immediately got surrounded by all the different sounds and impacts. And as she walked she did indeed fit in. A confident walk which were balanced to not catch attention - not that it was much of an issue for her in the first place. A dishevelled man in a light blue suit who had both arms in firm lock by a broad bouncer by each arm passed her, close enough for her almost being grazed, and yet not a curious eyes landed on her.
She stopped by a table of Black Jack not too occupied by other players. Just a couple and sleazy looking guy sitting down all slouched, mindlessly shuffling chips between his fingers and watching the cards. It was cheating, what she did, but in a discreet and unseen movement chips appeared in her hand, which she elegantly placed in the table to indicate her joining in which got at the very least a glance from the man sitting down, where he first pulled a displeased face but then soothed it into a slight crooked smile before returning to his play. While new cards were placed on the table - now hers included, she lifted a hand op to brush her hair behind her ear, letting the non-verbal spell settle on her hearing, letting her - hopefully - tune in on conversations about her and tune out the noise.

“Must be nice having a luxury beach house. The boss is really living life, huh. Bet he’s in a jacuzzi with a couple pf chicas right now.”
“Heh, yea. Maybe that can be us some day. I’ve heard Mr. Zamora is a very kind man to those who impress him.”
Simply from their voice she could hear the arrogance that would ruin their chanced of every impressing a man such as Zamora. But that wasn’t important. She had caught on to something useful. Already. She hadn’t expected it. Her eyes lingered on the table and the cards in front of her, her hands gently resting on the edge.
“Hit.” It felt good although she had never been a gambler. She could surely be a good one with her mellow expressions, much like the displeasure of the new card not showing on her face too much. It’d be a risk to hit again. Her head tilted slightly as she tapped a finger against the smooth wooden surface boarding the green fabric. It was cheating. But greed had already manifested in her, before her magic flowed to the next card on the dealer’s bundle. “Hit.”

No even the slightest bit of guilt ran through her as she kept at it. Making sure not to make herself suspension. But the earnings she had started out with had grown. It wasn’t earnest winnings, that was for sure but there were a part of her missing that seemed to care about it. It wasn’t until she got a glimpse of him, her winged company, that she looked up and to the side to confirm that it was indeed him. That he had returned. And with a light movement of her hand, she gestured the end of her play. As she was leaving the table, the slouching man had just been about to get up as if to offer his company to her, but as she not even grazed him a look as her back got turned to him, he sat down again with a disappointed huff. Her chips were collected by the dealer, stored to her name in the hotel’s system for no lady should have to carry handfuls around.
With calm stepped the little with walked in a relaxed line towards Michael, locking eyes with him as soon as he noticed her getting closer. She couldn’t read him if his mission has been successful or not but at least he didn’t seem beat up. His suit was as it were, perfectly fitted to the man’s rough build, so even if he had simply healed up after a fight, she’d expect a little ter. Which she didn’t see. She walked all the way up to him, stopping rather closely too him as she raised a hand and with another hand gesture, she let her telekinesis tug at the collar of his dress shirt and tie, pulling him down and even closer to her until it became possible to put her lips against his in quite the deep kiss. Her eyes closed automatically and she held the kiss for a long time if let before letting go and softly pulling away. The kiss had not been forceful or demanding. Her eyes opened almost dazed before she finally spoke and explained herself. “We have been slightly compromised. It seem the drug, you wanted to try out ended up in my drink instead,“ she whispered, exploiting how close they still were. Greed and lust. Those were the factores the drug had amplifyed in her.

He'd clearly gotten the wrong idea of the kind of magic she performed. Summoning a hellhound was far from any ordinary consequence of a spell gone wrong. And although he liked that she was confident of her own abilities - enough to not eschew from more complex spells, he still found it concerning. Yet, it hadn’t seemed like she’d had a bad experience with the hellhound. She had been lucky in that regard.
When the conversation turned to Joseph, he couldn’t help but think that there was more to it than his warning. That perhaps he had done it to get Ajax out of the way. Could he really be that obsessed with her? He supposed anything was possible when it came to Joseph. He leaned back as she revealed that she knew who he was from the first moment they met. And here he’d thought she’d first realized it once he’d told her his name, or maybe even first during their second meeting. Not that he'd done much to hide his true identity. He rarely did. He sighed silently as she mentioned that he’d trusted him. Wishing that she would have refrained from going there. He had already told her the reason for his decision back then. And that he certainly hadn’t trusted him. But it seemed that she didn’t care to avoid the annoyance this brought forth in him. His lips folded in a tight line as he restrained from explaining what he’d told her then. That he’d only done it because his family had been threatened. Besides, he shouldn’t have to remind her of this, and according to her, she did understand that there had been more to it. So he managed to keep his mouth shut, murmuring a simple hm before he took another bite of his meal. If she got disappointed in him from something like that, she must not know much about him. Because he had done much worse for far less.


It was easy to see how the drug was able to enhance profits in a place like this. The moral compasses of the humans were proof of that. It was a shame, of course. But nothing he would have bothered to reduce wasn’t it for the murder investigation and the demons' involvement. His gaze caught Saga approaching him. The yellow dress standing out in contrast to the dark suits around her. He started to walk towards her to meet her halfway, but instead of stopping at a respectable distance, she stopped much closer to him. He assumed it was because she was about to disclose new information, but he was quickly ripped out of that mindset. A tug at his collar pulled him down. And then he stopped breathing. His lips meeting hers in a kiss. He knew he should have pulled away from that instant. But he didn’t. However, he didn’t lean in either. He was too overcome by the surprise to do anything but stand there. His fingers inches from touching her. Once the kiss broke, he opened his eyes to look into hers. The sweet taste of cherry lingering on his lips and his mind even more bewildered now that reality returned. Her explanation made perfect sense and yet he wondered why she’d kissed him and not been in the midst of a flirtatious conversation with someone else. Thoughts he quickly pushed aside because it was irrelevant. The drug had been in her drink, and hence her kiss had been driven by lust. They must have drugged it once she’d left it unattended. How naïve of him to think that they wouldn’t. Still unable to speak, he nodded slowly before straightening himself. Adjusting the collar of his shirt. Then loosening the tie to its former state. “We should get you back to your room.” It didn’t seem like the smartest idea to stay in the casino once greed had a hold on you and he’d already obtained much of the information he sought. He backed up to distance himself from her. Not sure how strongly the sins were enhanced in her. He took in a deep breath, trying to keep his head cool despite the heated situation. He then led the way towards the exit. “I have some information to share with you as well,” he revealed, although not going into details as one couldn’t really know who would be listening. Especially now he was aware that the demon had headed to one of the bars. He pressed the button at the elevators before he glanced at Saga. Making sure she still seemed to be feeling okay despite the substance in her system. “But you know, it can wait until the morning.” He looked straight ahead as the doors opened before he stepped inside. He thought it might be best if she slept this off thus ensuring that she didn’t do anything foolish because of the drug.

When the doors closed and no one could hear them, he asked: “How does it feel?” It was hard to determine based on what he’d seen so far, and he was genuinely curious. Michael had never seen Saga not be in complete control of herself. And he knew that kiss was anything but that. There was no way she would have boldly kissed anyone, let alone him, wasn’t it for other factors being at play. He stole a glance to her lips. It still seemed surreal to him that they’d had their first kiss. The elevator stopped at the third floor, and he walked down the hallway to stop in front of her door.

Saga really wasn’t much for leaving the casino. The sound of metal against metal as coins were put into slot machines and then occasionally raining even more coins down into the tray whenever a win occurred. It was strange. Because the constant sounds and ringing made her feel so easily dizzy and yet they were alluring and tempting. Like a call for her. Of course, now she knew what was going on, what was actually tempting her to stay. It wasn’t natural no matter how it felt that way. Not entirely, at least. Taking a step back from Michael, she felt her tongue on her lips as she subconsciously licked the remainder of the kiss from them. She couldn’t say what she had expected, imagining kissing the archangel. Perhaps a sting from the opposing sense of it, however nothing had actually hinted to it having been wrong..
From the outside, as she followed Michael out of the casino, one might not think she had as much trouble leaving as she felt it inside. It was a battle, like forcing her way through thick mud up to her chest and more than once, she did sneak a peek over her shoulder, back towards her winning table. The sleazy gentleman wasn’t there anymore, she noticed, thinking it a bit surprising. He hadn’t seemed the type to think a table tainted with a foreigner’s luck. Be it fabricated luck or not. Michael then revealing that he had been successful in getting his hands on some information and as she turned his head back to look at him, it became just enough of a distraction from the growing craving in her fingers to let her own feet led her all the way out.

By the elevator, she barely looked like she cared about the obvious distance, he had made to her, since she nonchalantly stood quite closely beside him while waiting. “No. It’s quite alright. I’m pretty sure that I’m not intoxicated in a sense that makes me unable to comprehend it,” she was rather quick to point out to his attempt to wave her off for the night. And like him she stepped into the lift with her gaze pointed more or less straight forwards. However, even she could feel how he was more tense. And again, inside the lift she partly unintentionally stayed close by. She could still think straight. That was what was so peculiar about it.
“It was nice.” Standing relatively calmly with her eyes at the closed metal door, that was at first the only thing she replied before discretely reaching a hand up to her face and softly touching her own lips with her fingertips, reminiscing about the kiss just a slight bit. It had been nice… “But the drug, it feels… innate,” she answered to the actually question he had asked, lowering her hand from her face again and turning to look up at the angel by her side. “I can’t actually feel it in me. I barely noticed it myself and only through my behaviour. I hardly feel anything controlling what I do.” The kiss had been the exposing factor this time. While she wasn’t shy from kissing someone if she felt like it, be it public or not, it hadn’t been more than a fleeting thought of how it would be to kiss him. Not until it had been done. The doors opened after a ding and she watched him exit and B-line down the hallway. She wasn’t in any hurry and he’d reach her door far before her. Such a gentleman. Escorting her to her room. She allowed herself a closer look at the man in the stronger lights than both the restaurant and the casino had offered and he still managed to look put together. She breathed in deeply.

At the same time as she reached him, she pulled out her key from the hidden pocket of her dress. “I overheard confirmation that Mr. Zamora is on the city. To overlook a newer production,” she decided to disclose as she stepped in front of her door to unluck it but instead of walking inside, she kept the door closed and turned around and then looking back up at Michael. Her head titled. Her eyes admiring him. “What did you find?” She took a step closer to him, and if he didn’t step away, she reached a hand op to run through his hair, only to then glide down over his face, letting her delicate fingers run over his lips this time. Her eyes having naturally falling to them as well. She pulled her hand away fairly quickly and she recreated some distance between them as her gaze returned to his. “Come inside. We shouldn’t be discussing this here in the open.”

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. She might be able to comprehend it, but he wasn't so sure that she wouldn’t let herself be distracted. After all, the first thing she'd done when she saw him had been to kiss him. So, even if she was quick to assure him that it wasn’t going to be a problem, he still deemed it best for her to get some rest.
He raised a brow at her initial reply to his question. “What?” His tone was low. Not actually sure if she was referring to his question or something else. It was nice. The feelings? The kiss? The way she touched her lips made him presume the latter. He tensed up by the thought and focused his gaze on the numbers above the metal doors. Changing whenever they reached a new floor. Preventing his thoughts from wandering in the direction they wanted. Because no matter what that had been, it shouldn’t have happened. She then elaborated her answer, this time specifically talking about the drug. It felt innate. It gave sense to why no one had suspected that their drinks were being spiked. He tilted his head to look at her. The kiss had felt natural too. Not rough or demanding as one would expect from someone being overcome by lust. But if anything, that was good to hear. That she didn’t feel bad because of it. Even if the vices were bad in and of themselves.

A goodbye was on his lips when she revealed that she had overheard something about Zamora. He was naturally pleased to hear this. It had been the one thing he'd asked of her. Ever since he’d learned that he was part of this operation, he’d been determined to take him down in the fall. But knowing that he was here also meant that he had to be more careful. He couldn’t exactly afford Zamora to recognize him at an inopportune time. “Did they say where he stayed?” If he was here to overlook a new production, that must mean that they had production facilities here. And if the drug was produced here, it only made it that much easier for them to take down. This was great news indeed.  

He took a step back when she unlocked the door, expecting her to enter the room, but instead, she kept the door closed and turned around. There was something different in the way she looked at him. As if she was admiring his features. “I found some rec—” He stopped mid-sentence as her hand ran through his hair, and he looked into her eyes, searching for an answer to just how conscious she was of her behavior. Coming on to him in this manner. He suddenly felt very warm as her fingers glided down his face and brushed across his lips. Much like she had done the first time they’d met. Although, this time was for a different reason entirely. Once she stepped away to suggest that he came inside, his mind went in a very wrong direction. “Okay. Saga, I—” He smiled briefly. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. This substance is clearly affecting you and I’d hate to be the cause of any distractions.” And most of all, that would ensure that he wasn’t tempted by her either. “I need more time to look over it, anyway. It was mostly just financial accounts and sales records.” He had also found some names and addresses from letters. But he didn’t know if it was of any significance yet. Nor did he feel comfortable telling her much more in the hallway. And although he couldn’t exactly trust that she’d stay in her room. He didn’t think she was so influenced by the drug that she wouldn’t refrain from returning to the casino. After all, she had not resisted him when he’d suggested that they left.
On second thought, however. It would go much quicker if they delegated the tasks between them. “But if you aren’t tired, I do have a few things I’d like for you to look into.” It would just take a moment to talk about. He followed her inside, walking straight to the desk to drag the hotel’s notepad closer to him. He then grabbed a black pen and the journal from inside his suit jacket. “I found a couple of addresses.” He started writing them down, copying them from his notes. “If you could research into their location and purpose, that would be great.” Once he was done he straightened himself and turned around. “Also, I found a slip for a shipment delivery tomorrow at six-thirty. I would like it if you checked it out with me.” He had gotten a feeling that the shipment was regarding the drug and not just any ordinary goods. But even if it wasn't, it would still provide a closer look at some of Zamora's employees. “And.. Now that we are aware that Mr. Zamora is here. I’d like for you to find a way to conceal my identity. I would hate for any such recognition to cause a setback.”

“Ah.” She kept the one-worded reply as well as her facial expression as neutral as possible but it still, somehow, exposed the disappointment she automatically had felt as not only her initial offer to come inside was rejected but also her wish to be briefed probably on what he had found now that it was so fresh in his mind. She could understand the thought behind his excused but they were really only that; excuses. And though they made some sense she was not entirely pleased with accepting them. Especially how he insisted on looking over every thing himself first, only making it clearer how little involvement he had planned to give her. But she wasn’t about to complain or argue with him. Nothing was actually in need of hasty processing. She was simply too logically-minded.

And then; If you aren’t tired.
It did surprise her a rather large amount that he decided to change his mind in the midst of it. She had been on the verge of venturing inside her room in a manner of ripping the band aid off in one fell swoop so to not staying in the company of the archangel too long together with the lingering sensation that it gave her when gazing into his eyes. Those valley greens. In that moment her brows shot ever so slightly up and her expression naturally changed to match before mellowing back out into a soft satisfaction. “Don’t worry. I’m yet to feel the minor jet lack,” she commented before turning around and opening the unlocked door, holding it for him to pass through after her.
While the two rooms were more or less the same in interior, Saga hadn’t stashed an avalanche of documents on the table provided. It performed exactly as a normal tourist’s hotel room with suitcase by the end of the bed, closed but not zipped up as well as a few clothing items – such as her earlier outfits – nicely thrown on the bed. The only thing that might give hints to the fact that she in fact wasn’t a sight-seeing or gambling tourist was laying on the bed as well. A stapled-together bundle of papers, the same papers she’d received in the post regarding her father. The folds by the staple indicated that she had looked through them but not more than once or twice. While Michael did a B-line towards the table and while listening properly to what he began explaining, the little witch didn’t waste much time waiting before elegantly sitting down on the side of the bed and bend down to unstrap her heels and get her feet out of their torture chamber in sophisticated haste. It hadn’t been as painful to wear as she remembered the ones from the gala had been. Perhaps she was getting more used to them… ”Addresses?” she repeated looking up and towards him as she slid the second foot out of the shoe and then stood up again to then walk over to him, not even noticing herself how she kept standing rather close to him. She had done it even before the drug had entered her body. It was easier to follow along in what he was writing down that way.
With her eyes looking down at the note, he was finishing up, she reached both her arms up to bundle her short hair in a quick pony tail in the back, securing it as such with… nothing. At least no hair tie. Simply a bit of magic. Although large chunks in front didn’t stay in the bundle and fell back down around her face. “Zamora is said to be residented in a beach house somewhere in the outskirts of Havana. One of these might be the address to there.” She picked up the notepad to get a closer look, as if she thought she’d recognise any of them or just to memorize them. One of them stood out. If her geographical memory didn’t fail her, that one was fairly close to Southside and Oakheart.

“Hm?” She finally pulled her eyes from the addresses and looked up at Michael. She hadn’t moved since he had straightened up which left him still close by. There was something by the way he said he’d like her to join him that pulled at her faint smile and she softly crossed her arms in almost a vaguely triumphant posture. “Of course. And a glamour wouldn’t be a problem. Considering we arrived at the hotel together as well as the dinner they might find it strange if I was leaving the hotel with someone else, so it might be for the best if we met up there, Is it at the industry harbour or by the private boat bridges? Have you found that out?” she asked, not taking her eyes away from his, the entire time. It was… strangely difficult to concentrate. Completely.
Her tongue just about peeked trough her lips to wet them, as she then pulled her gaze away, like she had pulled her hand away from his face not too long ago, and she stepped a couple of steps away from the table towards the window sliding door to the balcony and letting her arms fall back down the side and then lastly turning back toward the angel. ”Do you have some preferences?” She sturdied him. “You have quite the distinguished features but a full enough beard might actually be enough to throw off who you are underneath. And your eyes…” She didn’t finish the sentence and it looked mostly like she didn’t even perceived it herself. It would be a shame to have to cover them up with glamour.

“Yes, they're most likely addresses to where they keep files or some of their back-stage employees. But if we are lucky, one of them is going to lead us to a warehouse or their production facility,” he explained, shifting his gaze between the documents as he wrote them down. He'd at least recognized one of them to be to a building downtown which pointed to the two first options. “If not, I'm going to attach a tracking device to one of their shipments or shadow them.” It was very important that they found those facilities, to destroy the goods so they wouldn't be able to sell and distribute them anymore. Michael glanced at her as she neared him again, looking at the addresses he’d written. So, Zamora resided in a beach house. He looked back at the addresses, not being so familiar with the streets of Havana to know if any of them were close to the beach. But that was for her to find out. He could only hope that one of them was his address. He looked at her as she picked up the notepad with his writing, slowly placing the journal and pen back into his suit jacket. He had been reluctant to involve her in his mission, mostly because he was convinced that she’d primarily agreed to come along because of the objective to find her father. But he sensed that he had been wrong regarding this, and if they were to work on this as a team, he wasn’t going to do it half-heartedly. Besides, it probably meant that they'd take down the operation much quicker. He was happy to hear that she was willing to join him tomorrow night. He’d thought she’d not wanted to take part in matters that could turn confrontational, so it was good to hear that she was willing to join him despite the risk of that. “All right. It’s at the industrial harbor, but I’ll give you a more specific meeting point tomorrow. That is if I can't convince you to teleport with me.” He looked into her eyes with a vague smile on his lips. At least, this was how he'd planned to get to the location.

He watched as she walked towards the window before he turned his gaze to the room. Noticing the clothes and the folder on her bed. Do you have some preferences? He thought about it for a moment, but just as he was about to answer she commented on his appearance. A beard might fool people from a distance, but it would hardly be enough. Zamora would recognize him even with facial hair. And his eyes? He looked anticipatingly at her to finish her sentence, although he could already guess that she deemed them to be one of his more recognizable features and hence that they should be altered. “I was hoping you knew of any spells that would hide my scent as well.” He knew that blood demons quickly recognized an angel’s scent. He'd many times been met with sudden attacks from them because of this. And that wasn't exactly ideal when you planned to go about a mission discreetly. “A temporary illusion will suffice. I’ll only need it for certain field-work scenarios and the rest of the time I can turn invisible,” he added before he ran a hand down the edge of his blazer. He wasn't sure how difficult it would be to perform such enchantments. And he'd undoubtedly need more, so he didn't plan on tiring her out by upholding a glamour for longer than was necessary. “Anyway, I hope that gives you something to think about until tomorrow. And if you feel worse or any new symptoms, just let me know.” He looked at her as he backed up a few steps towards the door. He wasn’t going to have her work if she wasn’t feeling well. But according to the report, there shouldn’t be any such symptoms. The greatest nuisance was probably fighting the temptation to return to the casino, but he hoped that he'd distracted her thoughts enough to resist it.

His smile widened markedly at her comment. As tempting as it sounded to teleport straight inside any building that those addresses revealed, or inside a storage room at the harbor, it would prove even too reckless for someone who liked things to be done quickly. It had to be done right as well. Especially when he had Saga by his side. The last thing he wanted was to put any unnecessary risk on her. Bringing her along in the first place was already taking enough of a risk. Besides, he had no idea how well she’d do in a fight, so he figured it was best to stay on the safer side.
Michael looked at her for a moment as she seemed surprised by his abilities. Mostly because those weren’t his personal skills, and hence, they weren’t that special in his mind. But it only confirmed that she hadn’t met many angels. “All created angels possess those skills. You know, in the back of our minds we hear prayers too, and so teleportation makes it easy for us to reach those who need our help. Sometimes it’s best to perform this help while being invisible, but otherwise, the invisibility was granted to us for safety reasons.” He tilted his head to the side, wondering what things she had heard of him if not his powers. It seemed that Joseph hadn’t revealed too much, which he was quite satisfied with. It wasn’t exactly a good thing to have everyone know about your skills. “But I’ll tell you one.” He raised a hand, blowing a breeze towards her that made her dress flutter and swept the free strands of hair away from her face. “I can control the weather,” He stopped the breeze to twist his hand, creating flickers of electricity from his fingertips. She’d already witnessed this ability, albeit not knowing the whole extent of it, and she’d possibly not realized just how devastating it could be. Not until now. He’d only decided to show her this ability because it hardly was one that she’d be interested in for her own benefit as opposed to, for instance, his ability to manipulate and create weapons.

He was happy to know that it wouldn’t be a problem for her to perform the enchantments. After all, he usually went without them, not having a witch nearby on his travels. He nodded as she’d explained everything. “I was thinking of dropping by at three in the afternoon. I assume that gives you enough time to perform the glamour?” The shipment was set to arrive ten before six, so he figured that’d still give them plenty of time to go over the information they’d found as well as the enchantment before they'd head to the harbor.  
He watched as she used her telekinesis to rip a page from the notepad, stepping slightly aside so he wasn’t blocking the table as it elegantly flew back to lay on the top. His gaze then stayed with her as she followed his movements towards the door, only stopping within a step's distance. “Of course I am.” He was always worried about others. And right now, there was just the two of them, so if something bad happened to her, he’d be the closest help. The small assurance made him take a deep breath. “That’s good to hear, Saga.” He nodded in agreement when she said they should part, taking another step back as he reached for the door handle. “Goodnight.” He looked into her eyes one last time, hoping that she was telling the truth and that she would contact him if she felt worse. He turned to open the door and enter the hallway, exhaling slowly as he walked the few strides to his door as to recollect his mind on the work ahead and not think of anything that would hinder it.


Michael had been sitting at the table for most of the night and the following morning, working, trying to be as many steps ahead as he possibly could. He’d asked his spies for any new intel on Mr. Zamora, or any other activities related to his business in case that would deduce some new clues. But they hadn’t told him much, so he hoped tonight was going to prove more fruitful. He’d only stopped once music blasted loudly from the pool area, making him close the laptop to reach the window, overlooking the joy and carefreeness of the tourists. He then looked at his wristwatch. It was a bit past twelve. He had slept about four hours that night, only sleeping whenever he’d used a lot of his powers in a short time because he felt that made them reinvigorate faster. His regenerative stamina already making sure that he didn’t need to sleep because of being physically exhausted. He then drew away from the window to take a shower. He ironed one of his shirts and got dressed in a black suit before he left the room to reach the main street. He’d put on a pair of aviator shades to partly mask his identity in his little venture outside. He’d stopped by the first convenience store to buy the daily newspaper, then entered a café to get some lunch and a cup of coffee while he read the news. Looking for anything out of the ordinary. Or simply anything related to the murders, but luckily there wasn't any such news.
Back at the hotel, he made a short stop by his room to retrieve a blade and a flask of holy water that he hid inside his suit jacket. He placed the sunglasses on the table before he locked his items up, walked to Saga's room, and knocked on her door.

She had heard of something like that but never this pinpointed as he presented it to her. And it made perfectly sense. Teleportation and invisibility, things the little witch were capably of too, though it was far from an inbred ability. Or rather; purposely created in Michael and all the other creations of angels’ case. She, as a witch, had to pay a price for such usage, however little magic like that had one cough up. “I see.” She completely sucked it up. Stored it in with the rest of her well-kept memory. There was no saying when or even if information like that would be good to know but she somehow found comfort in simply knowing. She would almost think that Michael was aware of such little quirk as he fed her more. Entertained her comment even if she had never intended for it to be something to actually be answered.
Her eyes had followed his hand as he had held it up but then.. Weather? She hid it well, the astonishment, but never fully. The breeze hitting her automatically had her lift a hand to her face to keep the look strand of raven hair out of her face, forced back over the ear, where the shorter ones didn’t stay there for long. But the feathery tickling over her nose wasn’t the most prominent sensation the power tease had soared over her. The breeze had felt like a stroke round the nape of her neck and while she had been successful in not reacting to it, her throat had hollowed slightly deeper for a moment there. “Weather, huh. I’d suspected as much. Well, to some degree. Aerial manipulation at the very least. Telekinesis wouldn’t have closed my front door like how you had it done.” She should know. While her telekinetic abilities were only impressive in her control and not in potency or strength, she had used it as an extension of herself for the entirety of her life. She knew the difference. Her admitting her suspicion, she also revealed how she had been wondering about just that ever since.

Of course, they couldn’t chit chat about abilities and what not. She had already more or less instructed him to leave, not being too ignorant over how what had compelled her to kiss him right then and there in the casino only filled more being alone in a room with him. A faint smile blessed her face, even her eyes. “Plenty,” she said sparsely yet not giving a sense of needing to say more. “I’ll see you here at fifteen hours.” Those last few seconds of eye contact before the angel broke it by turning to walk out, were… longing.
“Goodnight.”

Distractions. The following night left to herself, the little witch hoarded any distractions. Not from thoughts but the experience of being alone with the drug. She had spent the later hours on her bed with laptop in front of her, the screen reflecting in her glasses, the list of addresses by her one side together with a world folded out world map, seeing to not only find them but get a greater understanding of what significance they each had. All the while she dove a little deeper onto the demon, this Lorenzo Zamora, trying to get at least a visual. And eventually she fell asleep. Not yet snuggled into bed and not yet closed down her computer or anything. She was exhausted. Already in lack of sleep beforehand. The dream that came to her then wasn’t the same, though. She wasn’t met with uncharacteristically placed ravens echoing croaks at her.

She awoke suddenly, gasping heavily but not frightened. She felt dizzy. She felt tingly to her fingertips. The dream had felt so real and it was as if edged into the inside of her mind. With the half-risen sun shining through the large panorama window she carefully pulled herself to sit up and look at the beautiful sunrise over the Cuban coast as she discreetly breathed to calm down, ending with an ample sigh and closed her eyes for a moment. Then looking at the mess around her she closed the laptop to venture to the bathroom instead, splashing water in her face and cleaning off whatever remaining makeup had survived the spontaneous  - and eventful - sleep.
Feeling much fresher and in no position to being able to sleep any longer, she got out of the dress and into something less formal. Yet she still had an image to uphold while at the hotel. The high-waisted shorts were a loose fit and dress-pant material and with the help of a belt the edges ruffled around her waist and to not walk around topless she pulled a simple, but nice T-shirt over and stopped it into the pants. Then finally she left the room to venture to the breakfast restaurant, where she found a nice spot outside in the shadows. Laptop back out in front of her and fueled by a sipping cup of coffee that didn’t last long before a refill and a nipping plate of food that lasted almost the entire time she was sad there.

The ding of the elevator arriving at the 3rd floor had just rung and the exact moment the doors opened for her and she saw down the hall and saw him standing ready outside of her room, she both saw and heard the knock. She had had the whole day to herself to shake of the dream of him - them and surely it had done the trick, but she felt herself almost stopping in her tracks as she noticed him in his black suit. He stood out even in the same proper attire as anyone else.
She didn’t particularly make an effort to not having him notice her as she strolled with determined steps towards him, however she didn’t say anything to announce her arrival before standing right next to him. “Afternoon, mr. Buchanan. Come in,” she greeted him before reaching in to unlock the door and step through it. Leaving it open for him to enter and close it after him. Meanwhile she placed her things on the provided desk, which she had yet to use at all. The room looked like it did the night before, expect for the yellow dress hanging nicely over the back of the provided desk chair and whatever clothes had been on he bed had been packed into the still unzipped suitcase. “Your jacket. Take it off.” It was as blunt as she could get. As well as natural sounding like had she said any other sentence. She finally turned her front towards him and let her eyes wander slightly further down him while considering on.. something and then looked back up. “And unbutton your shirt a little. I’ll need access to the upper part of your back and part of your shoulder for the spell placements.”

A moment of unresponsiveness passed before he turned his attention to the person in the hallway, a faint smile appearing once he realized it was Saga. Showing up just in time. And she looked well, which immediately brought his prior worries to rest. “Afternoon, Ms. Kraussman,” he returned her greeting before he followed her inside the room. He closed the door behind him and took a few steps, about to ask how she was when a command was uttered. He raised his brows, clearly surprised by her bluntness. Even if you'd think he'd be used to it by now. A slow smile spread on his lips as she turned her front towards him, telling him to unbutton his shirt as well. The surprise barely getting a moment to sink in. “You’re very straightforward, has anyone told you that?” he said, his eyes crinkling in the corners of his eyes before a chuckle escaped his lips. First the kiss yesterday and now this. But most of all, it brought him back to their second meeting where she’d worked on his tattoo. He took off his suit jacket, throwing it over the back of a chair. “How was your night? Did you get any sleep?” he asked, hoping to be reassured of her being fine to go on the mission tonight. And it was no secret that his mind had been on her the majority of last night, even despite how forcefully he tried to push the thoughts of the kiss away, the concern for her had never diminished. But he’d also told himself that he had to trust her words, so if she said she was okay and that he needn’t worry, then it was because it was true.

He reached his hand back to pull out a blade from the waistband of his pants, placing it on the table. It was a simple silver blade with a black shaft, making the possibility of murdering a demon tonight swift and silent. “How long do you reckon the glamour will last?” he asked, slowly loosening the tie around his neck. He remembered that the spell attachment, the one to hide his scent, would be in effect for days, but not anything specific about the glamour, and he needed to be aware of that as well. Not wanting to risk being discovered amid tonight's mission. And preferably his identity wouldn't be revealed at all. He took off the tie, laying it on top of the jacket before he reached for the buttons of his white shirt. “Were you able to find the addresses I gave you?” He shifted the topic, intrigued to hear if she’d found anything noteworthy, having already set his mind on checking at least one or two of them out. He unbuttoned the first four buttons of his shirt, exposing his chest to the lower part of his sternum. He honestly didn’t care how she’d make him look, so long as it was sufficiently indistinguishable. But seeing that she'd already spent a good amount of time with him, he figured she'd be a good judge of that.