Violet’s hand trembled before opening the door, with good reason.  She never knew what they were walking into.

A blast of noise assaulted her ears.

Recoiling in horror, she almost shut it again.  Her partner Grant pushed her out.  They were in a dark, busy nightclub.

“Don’t touch me,” she glared at him, almost stumbling.

“Sorry,” he smiled, not sounding sorry at all.

“What year are we in?”

“Violet, do you not read the brief?  It’s London 2016.”  Grant sounded exasperated.

“This is my third assignment this week.  I was in Scotland in 1945 two days ago.”

Grant shrugged.  “I told you not to do too much travelling.  It totally messes with your senses.”

“I know, but I need the money.  Come on, we don’t have all day.”

“Actually we do,” he smirked.  “We can just use the door again.”

“You know the boss doesn’t like it when we do that; she said it ruins the schedule for the other assignments.”

Violet stared at her partner of almost six months and shook her head.

“What,” Grant growled.

“I can’t believe that angels and demons now work together, sorting out some of the craziness that humans do to each other. Thank goodness for the Accord that ended the war between us.”

Violet glimpsed the red of his demon briefly before he closed his eyes in pain.  They had both lost loved ones in that war.

Wishing now she had kept quiet, Violet shook herself.

“Ok let’s rock.”

“Well you are certainly dressed for it sweetheart,” laughter back in his eyes.

She glanced at the black leather mini skirt, fishnet tights, halter neck top, killer heels and black biker jacket.

“I have to stop that woman walking home alone and getting attacked.  It starts here.”

“I get the fun part, persuading the bad guy to move away from a life of crime.”

“You love it.” It was Violet’s turn to smirk.

Grant turned, Violet burst out laughing.  On the back of his leather jacket it said “Hell’s Angel.”

“They got that right,” she whispered, moving to start her night’s work.