The witch found it all so very amusing, and this did little to dissipate the ill-will surrounding her 'weak' comment. Normally it would never have been uttered, and if it had then the person who had dared say such a thing would soon be taking it back as fast as they could. Zazel suspected that both the dark magic and fact she had met him at a young age contributed to the fact that she was far more brazen around him than he would have liked, and it didn't seem like any amount of threats would change this. The fact she was so blatant about finding it funny was infuriating though - he was meant to be the one laughing, and instead she was taking the reigns on something which should very much have been controlled by him.<br/><br/>He walked over to her, registering her slight taunt and resisting the urge to cause far deeper wounds than the mere claw marks which decorated her neck at the moment. She was no good to him dead, and her soul was of far less importance to him than what she could do for him while alive. He let her walk off without saying a word, aware of the fact that he wasn't going to make a second deal, not while the debt from the first bargain hung above her head. Still, he would let her enjoy the feeling for a few seconds longer, noticing the feminine walk, seeing the fact that she was still teasing him. He ignored both, and followed her into the back alley, the last place most people would go with a strange man who had blood on his mind.<br/><br/>She snickered again, and Zazel leaned against the wall with her, putting an arm around her shoulder and digging sharpened claws into the top of her arm, tones of playfulness replaced with something more sinister. "The Latin's for show, people like you expect that sort of stuff. Besides," he continued, tapping a blood-tipped finger on her shoulder as he brushed hair off her face with his other hand, grin returning now. "You still haven't paid off the first deal. I need you to kill some witches."