"The dead are my business" he replied, leaning forward, making sure to keep eye contact with her. His tones weren't as light as they were previously. He was serious, bordering on annoyed. "I am Azrael, the Archangel of Death. I am the one who guides the dead to their afterlife, I am the one who keeps souls from damnation, the one who releases lost spirits and wraiths in this world so they can go on to their afterlife. This is serious" he said sternly.
There was a brief flash as he shifted the room around them for a few seconds, warping reality to suit his intention. For that moment, they sat at their table but there was no room. In fact there was nothing at all. He sat, still staring at her same as before, but with two big differences. From his back, two large black wings unfolded, stretching out. His own eyes glowed whiter than white. The air grew colder too in that instant, as if this new place was entirely void of all life.
And then everything was back to normal, just as soon as it had all changed. The sounds of the restaurant came rushing back, Azrael's wings were gone and his eyes had went back to normal. It was like nothing had happened. Azrael crossed his leg over and leaned back in his chair.
"This is no interrogation. I am willing to help you so long as I can trust that you will not abuse my help, nor will you treat the essence of the departed disrespectfully. These are my terms. If you don't like them you can leave but I will be keeping an eye on you"