"Yes," Erica told him, her own smile sly. "That would be the reason. But see that you don't: I run a tight bar around here, and I don't accept excuses or bullshit. If you get this job, you're to take it seriously. I know working in a bar doesn't seem like life and death, but this is sometimes the only place some immortals can come and feel actually safe, and that's because we stick to our rules. No violence, no powers used against others, no fights. Outside feuds are to be left outside. They don't come through that door." She pointed toward the door as she said it. "If someone out there wrongs you, hurts you- doesn't matter. You swallow your pride or vengeance while you're in these walls, and you serve them a drink. This place," she said, stabbing a finger down on the bar, "can only exist and function as it does for the good of everyone, if everyone plays by the same rules."