The nightclub pulsed with a relentless, deafening rhythm.
Crimson and blue neon lights swept over the dance floor in dizzying waves, the bass heavy enough to rattle the glass tumblers lining the bar.
Ellie was already halfway to a blackout.
“You are absolutely cheating,” she accused, waving her cocktail glass at Diana.
Diana leaned against the counter, her posture effortless and loose.
“How exactly do you cheat at drinking?”
“You don’t even look tipsy.”
“That’s because unlike you,” Diana replied, her voice smooth, “I possess dignity.”
Ellie choked on a laugh.
“Oh, shut up.”
A few guys hung around them, circling with the usual, tired attempts at flirting.
Ellie, bored and buzzed, played along with a wicked grin, laughing at their garbage pickup lines.
Diana ignored them.
Mostly.
One guy actually looked like he might collapse when she offered him a three-second smile.
The bartender slid a fresh drink toward her.
“On the house.”
Diana raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.
“You people really need better financial habits.”
Then—
something clicked.
Her eyes drifted toward the dance floor.
A woman in a black dress was moving toward a man dancing by himself.
It looked normal enough.
Then Diana saw the man’s eyes lock onto hers.
Blank.
Like he was drifting off into a fever dream.
The woman smiled, took his hand, and he followed—obedient, like a puppet on a string.
They vanished into the hallway toward the bathrooms.
Ellie was still cackling, oblivious.
Diana set her glass down.
“Bathroom?” Ellie asked, slurring slightly.
“Mhm.”
“Don’t fall in love with anybody while you’re gone.”
“No promises.”
The hallway was a sudden drop in pressure, the music muffled and distant.
Diana pushed into the women’s restroom.
The girl in the black dress was hovering near a stall.
She stopped the second she saw Diana.
They locked eyes under the harsh, flickering fluorescent lights.
Diana let out a tired, sharp breath.
“Here I thought I was gonna enjoy one evening without any of this bullshit.”
The girl smiled.
The expression didn’t reach her eyes.
It didn’t reach her humanity.
“How did you figure it out?”
The transformation was fast and nasty.
Black veins crawled under pale skin; her jaw split wide in an unnatural, horrific hinge to show off rows of jagged, predatory fangs.
Diana stepped toward the mirror, pulling out her lipstick.
“One can’t be a demon hunter,” she said, her voice dry, “if they don’t observe their surroundings.”
FLASH.
The dance floor.
The woman approaching the man.
The glassy, vacant look in his eyes.
The way he moved like a doll.
BACK TO PRESENT.
The demon grinned, her voice distorting into a wet, guttural growl.
“Good job, demon huntress.
But you still can’t save tha—”
Diana flicked her wrist.
The lipstick flew like a bullet.
SLASH.
The demon’s fangs sheared the tube in half.
“…Hm?”
Diana was gone.
The demon spun toward the stall where the unconscious man lay.
Still breathing.
Untouched.
CLICK.
Cold steel pressed against the demon’s temple.
Diana stood right behind her, one hand buried in her dress pocket, the other holding a silenced handgun point-blank to the creature’s head.
Diana looked bored.
“Wasn’t trying to.”
PHFFT.
The gun cycled once.
The demon’s head sprayed apart into a cloud of drifting, oily black dust that hit the floor like dead ash.
Silence.
Diana lowered the weapon.
She checked the man in the stall for a pulse.
“…Still alive.”
She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
“Congratulations,” she muttered.
“You almost became demon food on a Thursday night.”
The door swung open.
Two women walked in, chatting, and went dead silent at the sight.
One stall door hung wide open.
A man lay slumped half-inside it.
“What the hell?” one whispered.
A guard burst in a second later.
“What happened here?”
Ellie was right on his heels, face pale with worry.
The guard pointed at the man on the floor.
“Miss, is he with you?”
Diana sighed, sounding incredibly put-upon.
“This idiot wandered into the women’s bathroom, drunk off his ass.
Panicked, slipped, hit his head, and knocked himself out.”
A beat of silence.
One of the women in the bathroom rolled her eyes.
“Men are so stupid.”
“Seriously,” another added.
The guard looked like he’d rather be anywhere else on the planet.
“…Alright.
Carl!
Get in here.
Help me carry this dumbass outta here.”
They hauled the guy out like a sack of potatoes.
Ellie stepped toward Diana, eyes darting.
“You okay?”
“Perfectly fine.”
Ellie’s gaze dropped to the floor—to the faint, dark residue near the drain.
She looked at Diana.
Diana stared at the ceiling, trying to look innocent.
“…Don’t.”
Ellie grabbed her wrist, hard.
“Oh, hell no.
We’re leaving.”
“Ellie—”
“Nope.”
She dragged Diana toward the exit.
“This was supposed to be OUR night out.”
People scrambled to get out of the way as Ellie marched through the club, towing the city’s deadliest woman behind her like a frustrated partner after a bad date.
“These demonic bastards seriously can’t leave you alone for ONE evening?!”
Diana couldn’t help a small, genuine smile.
“Technically, this one interrupted me first.”
“That is NOT helping your case.”
“I solved the problem pretty quickly, though.”
Ellie glared at her.
Diana held up her hands, still being hauled through the strobe lights.
“Alright, alright.
Calm down.”
“I am calm!”
“You threatened a bartender with emotional violence ten minutes ago.”
“He gave me diet cola instead of regular!”
Diana laughed—a real, quiet sound.
It seemed to annoy Ellie even more.
The streets were empty.
The rain had quit, leaving the asphalt slick and reflecting the yellow streetlights like oil.
Ellie was leaning hard on Diana, dead weight and giggles.
“You know…” she mumbled, “you’re reaaally pretty.”
Diana grunted, shifting her weight.
“Thank you, Ellie.”
“And scary.”
“Also accurate.”
“You could totally ruin lives if you wanted.”
“I already do.
Mostly demons.”
Ellie burst into a fit of exhaustion-fueled laughter.
They stopped in front of a warm, two-story house glowing under the porch lights.
Diana knocked.
A middle-aged man in home clothes pulled the door open.
His eyes went wide.
“Diana?!
Ellie!?”
Diana offered an awkward, lopsided smile.
“Sorry, Uncle Andrew.”
Ellie raised a hand, theatrical and limp.
“Fatherrrr…”
Andrew sighed, beaten by the night.
“She drank too much again, didn’t she?”
“A little.”
Ellie stumbled.
Diana caught her, steadying her.
“…Okay.
Maybe a lot.”
Andrew laughed, gently taking Ellie off Diana’s shoulders.
“C’mon, disaster child.”
He looked back at Diana.
“You too.
Sleep here.”
Diana shook her head.
“It’s okay, Uncle.
Got some work to finish before I head home.”
Andrew looked at her for a second.
His expression softened.
“This is home too, sweetheart.”
The words hit her like a punch.
Diana’s smile didn’t move—it stayed warm and easy—but something behind her eyes shifted.
A hairline fracture in the armor.
“…Yeah,” she whispered.
“This is home too.”
A pause.
“Next time, okay?”
Andrew nodded, then his eyes flicked down.
He frowned.
“…By the way.”
Diana blinked.
“That dress is way too revealing.”
Her face turned bright red in an instant.
“Uncle!”
He held up his hands, defensive.
“Hey, I get it.
You’re an adult now.
But as a girl dad, I reserve the right to call out whatever I think is inappropriate.”
Diana shielded her face, humiliated.
“You sound eighty years old.”
“And you look like you’re trying to assassinate the entire male population.”
“That is NOT the point of the dress!”
Andrew roared with laughter.
Diana groaned, retreating off the porch.
“You are way too strict!”
“And you,” he called out, “are becoming way naughtier than before.”
“Unbelievable,” Diana muttered, failing to hide a smile.
She turned and walked into the dark, her silk dress swaying in the porch light.
Andrew watched her go, his grin fading into something soft.
Something fatherly.
“…She’s still such a cutie.”
He closed the door.
CLICK.
The city was finally, mercifully quiet.