House distantly listens to Chase. He kept his arms crossed over his chest, unconsciously gripping at the wound on his arm. Psycho-bitch had struck again, and House was beginning to feel nervous. He could only bet that his regular healing powers were what was keeping whatever she did at bay, while Thirteen was moving along in a normal rate.
He could understand the prospect of injuring others to get faster results, but hell, House was already determined to get her case solved as it was. Threats from demons certainly wasn't anything new to him, he'd go as far to say that it was all part of being an angel.
But something about her shook him to his core. Something about her was different, and he began to take in some consideration that she wasn't a demon after all - everybody lies. Even if the truth could save their life.
He storms back into the room, glaring down at her.
"What are you," he demands.
She licks her lips. "Didn't think I'd see you again, sweetheart." He repeats himself and she merely purrs, arching up for a moment. "I've told you all I know, Feathers. They say you're the best doctor around these parts for the strange stuff. You've gotta figure this one out, 'else it make you look bad."
"What did you do to Thirteen?" What did she do to him. His mind flashes to that place that had slowly unwound him from his vessel until Castiel had snapped him out of it. He holds himself tightly to his vessel now, as much a prayer as he would ever find himself doing pretty much ever.
"Did I hurt your pet demon?" She pouts. "She was saying such cruel things about our Lucifer. She's the worst."
"Answer my questions, or you're never going to get out of that meatsuit again."
Her expression goes stony. She reaches all ten fingers up near her face, decaying nails touching very gently against her chin. She plucks at the skin on her lip. Bites, nibbles at the nails. "My Daddy will forgive me; yours won't."
He slams right back out of her room, scrambling desperately to remain attached to his vessel.