Thorne pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stem the flow of blood with a tissue. He winced, definitely not broken. But Mayberry's hook was powerful. And there she was downing shots of whiskey on his couch.
"I take it the punch was for leaving," Thorne asked, gingerly sitting opposite the goat.
Mayberry nodded, passing a small dram of whiskey to the doctor.
Doing shots with Mayberry. Now that was a slippery slope. But, one that Thorne was more than happy to slide on.
Mayberry and Thorne roared with laughter. The pair were in their cups, and would most likely stay that way for the rest of the evening, night and most of tomorrow if one of them didn't pass-out first.
"And he was so terrified, he farted." Mayberry chortled. The pair of them reminiscing about hiring Corvus, all those years ago.
The pair of demons had found the lanky crow, trying to hack Fairfax's computer. And instead of disposing of the young demon as ordered, Thorne had 'hired' him into the organisation. Much to Fairfax's disapproval. Thorne had insisted that it was good business and that they could use a hacker like Corvus in the future. Mayberry said Thorne had taken a liking to the boy and had gone soft.
"I thought Fairfax was going to shoot us," Thorne grinned.
Mayberry nodded, "well you certainly." Her smile dropped. "Reminds me of shooting Gerald."
"Yes?" Thorne lent forward.
Mayberry let her shoulders drop. "Every time I close my eyes, I see them. What they're doing. And it doesn't matter that I'm dead, I want to do it again."
"I know how that feels."
Mayberry raised an eyebrow.
"My father hated me," Thorne continued, "I was a massive know-it-all. He would take his anger out on me in a myriad of different ways. The more I was hurt, the more gratitude I felt. Because it meant someone powerful was paying attention to me and that he was correcting me, as I was wrong. I remember a member of the kitchen staff asking me what had happened. I said that I had fallen down the stairs."
The pair sat in a pregnant silence; Mayberry slid a small business card across the table. On it were embossed 3 letters. IMP.
"Call them."