"Shit." He glanced down in surprise, rubbing his eyes. "I'm alive." There was a grunt from somewhere behind him. "She has said I am not permitted to kill you." Scott twisted to see Calimente behind the bar, holding a glass. The room appeared empty, the goons had gone, though no doubt they'd return quickly enough if their boss decided he had need of them. "It is unfortunate," the demon continued, spreading his hands wide and shrugging, "but what can one do?" He reached behind him to hold out a bottle. "You want?" Scott squinted, his vision a bit blurred. Midleton Very Rare. Damn. "Hell yes, I want." He slid from the bar into a stool, gingerly examining the gigantic sore spot over his ear with two fingers. His head felt like it'd been split from one side to the other. "How many times did you fucking hit me?" The demon chuckled as he splashed whisky in Scott's glass. "Once." "It was a sneak attack." "That you deserved." Scott shrugged.
