“Hey, there sweetie,” she teased as the demon stepped within a few feet of her. “Wanna dance?”
His growl was all the answer she needed. They circled each other, never breaking eye contact. He was the first to move, swatting at her head with his long, muscular arms. She jumped back, but the palm of his hand whacked the side of her cheek with a resounding slap. Demons were fast, too. The blow hurt. She raised a hand to her face, but grinned back at him.
He barreled towards her with a guttural snort, like a raging bull in the arena. His size served to her advantage. He couldn’t match her more agile sidestep. She hooked her foot around his ankle. The thug face-planted on the rocky asphalt next to the back tire of the limo.
That should get their attention.