It is about 65/span/i>18C) degrees. The mist is heaviest At Foxglove and Franklin/span

(Your target encounters a runaway from hell, with several hell-sworn military officers searching for them.
)

The frantic, low-toned phone call precedes Thomas at Constance’s door. “I’m in Redstone. I’ve got a package, but the Legion is after me,” came the terse message. “I’ll be at your door in minutes.” Then, sure enough, he is there as promised — and with him is a rather weedy-looking demon; her skin is red, to be sure, but it’s a little pale, and her horns seem misshapen. Red eyes peer from behind thick, coke-bottle glasses as she and Thomas wait for Constance to answer the door, looking over their shoulders with some concern.

Constance opens the door to her manor, wincing – she has her shotgun slung up on one shoulder, and she’s clearly injured, her habit mended with a needle and thread. She squints down at the demoness curiously. “A package?”, she wonders, looking to Thomas.

“Liriel here is the package,” Thomas explains to Constance grimly. “She was a clark for the Legion until this morning. She reached out to a contact, a contact reached out to me…” He pauses. “And if we can get her somewhere safe and out the Legion’s reach before they hone in her, she’ll have some value to us.” He pauses. “Meaningful value, except of course…” He looks outside. “-Getting her- to St. Bart’s may prove a challenge, Connie. You’re injured and I’m terrible at fighting.” He looks again. “But Liriel here knows things about the Legion’s plans. They want Redstone back, and urgently.”

Constance grimaces. “Mhm,” she mutters. “I don’t have the best security here beyond my own strength, but you can probably hang here for a while if you think it’ll help take the heat off…”

“I don’t,” Thomas admits to Constance. “I think what we need to do is get her out of here and to St. Bart’s.” He looks out again. Sure enough, there is movement outside — the glint of metal from a hit squad from the 63rd Legion. “They can track her,” he explains, indicating Liriel. “At St. Bart’s, I should able to break the haunt that has them hunting her, but for now?” he says. “For now we’re in a race, Connie.”

Constance takes a deep breath. “Alright. You take the wheel and I’ll take the gun. Your car since it’s faster than Yfandes.” She tries to push her way towards Thomas’ car.

“Let’s do it,” Thomas tells Constance with a nod. Sure enough, the red porsche is outside, and for at least now whoever is hunting them doesn’t seem to be right there. Not right right there. It’s a coupe, with only a tiny backseat, so Liriel is pushed back there with a muttered apology as Thomas gets behind the wheel. He revs the engine as Constance slips in, and then he starts down the streets of Redstone, pedal to the metal.

Constance ejects the ammunition she has built in and loads a new clip full of quartz-tipped ammo with the CLICK CLICK noises of action movie guns emanating from the seat next to Thomas.

The streets race by, a blur — until as Thomas turns the corner onto the main drag a black van pulls front of him, blocking the street. “Fuck!” he says, reaching down to grab the emergency break for an assassin’s turn, only for a similar black van to pull behind. Legionaries are pouring out of the vans. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he says. “Connie… this is the kind of circumstance we need a little gunplay. I’m going to try to back into that alley,” he tells her.

In the back, Liriel screams — and for good reason. The demonic legion are advancing on the red car with speed, leaping into the air towards them with supernatural strength.

Constance nods. “Suppressing fire,” she agrees, rolling down the window and rising up and out. She starts to spray the field indiscriminately.

The rat-a-tat of Constance’s carbine catches a demon in flight, and there is a scream — quartz bullet punch holes in a demon as it flies through the air, only for it to crunch into the ground, neck at an unnatural angle. Thomas throws the Porsche into reverse, and he’s looking backwards, trying to back it through a narrow alley where he doesn’t have enough room to turn around. Liriel is shrieking, this whole situation not ideal: the demonic clerk really just wanting a nice evening with some romantasy rather than whatever the hell this is. “Connie!” comes Thomas’s cry. “How we doing?” He’s not looking forward at all, where demonic troopers are pursuing, even though their numbers are being thinned by Constance as she leans out the window.

Constance yells down into the car, “Fucking drive! Doesn’t matter how we’re doing, don’t worry about it! If we’re fucked we’re fucked, looking won’t help!”, as she uses the natural funnel of the alleyway to get some accuracy down on it. Then, she sees a nearby dumpster, and thrusts out her palm to move it and magnokinetically slam it ahead to block the path in front of them, hoping to cause the Legion to have to go around or waste time removing it.

“Getting fucked might be on my agenda tonight,” Thomas quips. “And I’m happy to have a spot of fun with you, Connie — but these fellows don’t seem like they believe in safe words.” He’s driving as fast as he can, backwards, looking behind him, when the metal dumpster flies — it crumbles against the wall, but the demons don’t seem to be fazed. One of them leaps, using the tumbling dumpster to double-jump off before he lands on the hood of the car with a terrible crash. “The fuck was that!” Thomas asks.

Liriel screams, louder, as the legionary draws some wicked looking curved knife. With a thrust, he drives it entirely through the roof of the car.

Constance can’t help but be impressed by the acrobatics on display – she flips up out of the window and likewise lands on the top of the vehicle, lashing out with her foot to try and engage in a little ‘scrape the Klingons off the starboard bow.’

Fighting on the roof of a car, swerving as it is driven backwards… well. It’s hard. At least the demon doesn’t stab back down through the roof, right where either Thomas is driving or Liriel is screaming, but he’s up, crouched down, holding onto the car with one hand as he tries to slash at Constance with the other. That knife is ugly — it seems the sort of thing that cuts not just flesh and bone but one’s soul. “How are we doing up there!?” Thomas asks. The back side of the alley is approaching, but that means there’s going to be a hell of a swerve when the Porsche flips around to move back into drive.

Constance brings the shotgun down and attempts to apply a burst of well-aimed buckshot into the demon’s facial features or lack thereof. “SHOULD BE DOING GOOD, KEEP FOCUSING!”, she states, her Charm keeping her steady.

Whatever the demon was expecting, it wasn’t a preternaturally steady seven-foot tall giantess with a shotgun. His face, already red, evaporates into something purple, and there is a thump — a bloody slide — as he falls from the roof of the car. Down below, the Porsche hits the alley; Thomas throws it from reverse back to drive, starting to burn rubber on a parallel street, hoping to evade the Legion. “Get that fat ass down here!” Thomas yells up to Constance.

Constance flips back into the car like it’s the General Sherman. “Yeah, yeah, calm down. I can ride the car just as well on top,” she complains, reloading some slugs into her shottie.

Looking ahead, now, Thomas begins to race through the streets again. “I am not looking forward to the body shop bill,” he tells Constance. He isn’t looking at the damage. “How bad is it?” he asks. In the back, Liriel is sobbing: at least she’s not screaming. “Come on,” he tells her. “It’s a lot better than what the Legion would do to you,” he says. “What happens to naughty little girls in their camp?” There’s not a lot of humor in it. “We need her information,” he says. “I’m sure they will try an incursion soon.”

Constance says “Some punctures, gonna have to replace the plates.“

Thomas swears, “Mother-fucker.” He pauses. “See any more of them?” he asks.

Constance says “Not yet.“

“Good,” Thomas tells Constance grimly. “I think we’re almost free.” The facades and shops of Redstone turn into All Saints’ grittier quarter, and the librarian reduces the car to something slightly more normal. “Connie…” He looks at her. “Are you concerned that they may try to take revenge? Target you in your house?” he asks her, starting to head towards St. Bart’s.

Constance sighs. “I wish they would,” she comments. “I actually don’t have many problems at all, even with no security. I love fighting,” she smiles.

Downshifting again, as Downtown comes into view — and then, at last, St. Bart’s. “Good,” Thomas tells Constance grimly as he pulls up. He gets Liriel out — almost frog-walking her towards the church. “I need to break the spell,” he tells Constance. “But, Connie?” he says to her. It’s a look. “Thank you.”

Constance nods. “No problem, Thomas. Glady ou came to me.”

“Always,” Thomas tells Constance. There’s a smile — and then he is gone, inside the Cathedral with someone in tow.

“Always,” Thomas tells Constance. There’s a smile — and then he is gone, inside the Cathedral with Liriel in tow.