“Get up slave. Get up. Samuel, wake up.” Samuel felt himself being shaken as the veil of sleep lifted. “It’s time to get up, Samuel.”

Crusted eye lids soon opened to naked splendor, and nightmares from a century gone by quickly faded from his mind, like foulness in the wind.  His wounds were gone, only the scars in his mind remained to remind him of his battle.

Dreams of his past seemed so far away.  Samuel took a moment to take in the wonder of a perfect morning. Jessie had opened a window and sunlight fell gently across her small breasts. Samuel wished time would stand still. He almost allowed himself to consider the possibility of ending his hunt. What If I just stopped? They are gone and nothing can bring them back. There is no guarantee Azazel will honor our bargain. But before the unspoken words could settle in his mind, Samuel knew it could not be. His was not a life of ease, and a bargain with the demon could not be cast aside.

“What would you have of me, woman?” It was time to go work and the sooner he faced it, the quicker he could get back to his destiny.

Jessie slowly rose from the bed. She turned her back to him, seemingly not wanting to meet his eyes.

Samuel couldn’t help but admire the tight firmness of her young backside and remember how wonderful it felt to grip her heavenly gifts.

“I am no angel, Samuel.” Her words were spoken with sadness, yet with strength. “I am one of the few nephilim who serve the Lord. I have never heard HIs voice directly, and I have never entered Heaven. Like you, I am a soldier of one of the First.”

“Who do you serve?” Samuel prepared himself for the worst. He was not surprised by her revelation. He knew half-breeds existed.  Azazel had once boasted of siring many children. He also mentioned that most were dead along with their mothers.  He figured her to be one. He did not believe for a moment, that an actual angel of the Lord would lower herself to lay with the likes of him. His ego only went so far.

“No, Samuel, I am not the offspring of your master. My mother is the angel Glendale, and it is she whom I answer to.”

Samuel released the breath he did not realize he was holding. “I’m so glad you said that. Banging the boss’s daughter is never a good career move.”

Jessie turned to face him. A smile graced her young face. “You are a great lover and funny too. I did not know you had so many skills.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I need your skill as a bounty hunter. I want you to kill someone.”

“Aren’t you supposed to say you want him dead or alive?”

“I prefer dead. I do not think taking him alive will be an option.” Her tone had quickly taken on a business like feel. This was no attempt at humor.

“Two questions, who is your target, and why can’t you kill this man yourself?” The second question was the most important to Samuel. It was clear that Jessie had powers beyond mere humans, so dispatching one man shouldn’t pose a problem.

“My target isn’t a man, at least not completely. He too is nephilim. His human name is Durbin, son of the fallen angel, Danyul, and it is forbidden for me to face him directly.”

“Fine, I've killed for less. I just need to get my ride out of impound before the cops sell it.” Samuel started to get up from the bed, but Jessie placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I have already retrieved your vehicle while you were resting. I have also secured you new clothing and a few gifts to aid you in your battle.”

“Um…okay.” Samuel did not remember her leaving, but he had to admit he was pretty well drained last night. “If, you went out already, then why are you half-naked? Not that I’m complaining.”

A smile spread across Jessie’s face. “The Senator will not be home until noon. Now that you are well, we can finish what we started before you fainted.”

She pushed the Hunter down on the bed and wedged his head between her thighs.

“Wait, did you say, Senator?”

“Hush, it’s not polite to speak with your mouth full.” With a quick downward thrust and rhythmic grind, Jessie ended any further conversation, and the Hunter soon lost himself in his tongue work. He figured if he was to die this day then he would enjoy the moment.

In the far corner of the room there was a shadow uncast by any light. Within that darkness sat the demon lord Azazel. In his hands rested the silver Colt, humming delightfully. The dark lord’s first thought was to strike the Halfling down, but curiosity stayed his hand. Having sifted through her mind far easier than she read Samuel’s, he knew precisely what she really wanted and in her plans he saw an opportunity for himself.

“Let the children play, my son,” he whispered to the Colt, “The Hunter’s deal with me cannot be undone.”