Under a blood red sky

There was no getting her job back. Jo knew that, but she still felt the need to apologize to her boss at The Darkside of the Moon for disappearing for as long as she had. It wasn't like she could actually say 'gee, sorry, I was kidnapped by a demon who took over my body. can I have my job back?' But at the very least, she wanted to apologize for leaving them in the lurch.

Not to mention the fact that she was going crazy with researching and coming up emptyhanded. She needed a night off to just blow off some steam. She would have suggested it to Dean, but he'd been out when she'd decided to go for a drink. So she left a note for him and headed out. She was armed, as always, ready for trouble but hoping there wouldn't be any.

Once she'd had the chance to apologize (and had the apology waved off just a bit) she'd settled into one of the corner booths, watching the pool players and gauging how easy it would be to hustle them. She was worried about making sure she contributed to the cost of rent at the motel and food and everything.

For now, she just settled in with her whiskey sour and took the time to people-watch.

York, Pennsylvania, was no worse than New Mexico. Then again, Edward's only real attachment to his home was a strange kind of allegiance to simplicity, and very little more than that.

He'd rented a house under his most-used name, back near the college, but far enough from the frat houses and nice enough that it was something like Donna's anyway.

The call had come the night before, and the money was much too good to refuse. The job wasn't going to be easy, but after the things he'd been hearing about York, Edward would've taken just about any job that would've put him there with a plausible excuse. He had a hard time believing what the job was, anyway.

It was his because Benning and Son (read as: Phaedra Romani) turned it down after finding out what it was. Just one man? Please. The contract's source was even more interesting.

More interesting? Anita was already here. This was all going to be a lot of fun.

He'd set his house up to his liking, unpacking more ammunition than the German army, and picked up his rental car. Well, a Hummer wasn't really a car. But it got the job done. It could go anywhere. He'd driven around a little, getting a feel for the town and checking out the motels. He'd driven past Harry Dresden's house during the day, getting a good look at it.

He was making plans.

He stopped to pick up groceries, putting them into the Hummer. He figured he'd make himself some dinner, go over the information he had, and start making a plan. A course of action. There was someone here, and he knew it. And that someone was watching him.

Which was fine. There was a flame thrower in the back of the car.