Yvonne sat outside the clinic a long time.  She hadn't slept that night, thanks to a soldier who had given her far more than she needed to think about.  The deprivation of it didn't wear on her, but the reduction of time to sort out her thoughts was enough to make her stand there while she considered her options.  She had left a note at the hotel for herr Drechsler, but he had not arrived.  All the better.  He was her reasonable excuse for what she was doing: standing there, doing nothing - it was hard work for the woman.<br/><br/>Her mind jumbled this way and that, without organization or even recognizable musing.  Fabiano had said he was working with Kohler.  Did he say they were going to a church?  She wished she knew which one, not that she imagined it would be hard to find out - so why didn't she?  A very large part of her felt like she was betraying someone, maybe God, for not being there right now, that if that demon was involved, she needed to oppose whatever it was he was doing.  Yet hadn't Raphael said he was on there side?  Maybe that's where they were going, for some purpose divine, not heinous.  She knew it wasn't true, though, so why was she<span style="font-style: italic">here</span>?  Was this cowardice?  Or was she being guided by His hands to do work elsewhere and allow events to unfold as they were meant but she was not?  She didn't like either option, but she had to believe it was the latter, or pride would trick her into abandoning her duty to prove that she was not a coward.  Hope was the only difference that fear wasn't doing the exact same thing.<br/><br/>A little boy ran into the clinic and almost as quickly came back out.  A carrier.  The commanders brows furrowed as others did the same, exiting in a small group.  The healer was right behind them - she was ushering them all to leave and forward orders on how to reach her should they need the help.  Where was she going?  What had that messenger given her warning of that would make her rush now?  Instinctively, she wondered if it had to do with Kohler's mission.<br/><br/>After a little while, the clinic remaining dark, Officer Wojcik walked up to the door and knocked.  The woman who opened it did not seem the genteel nurse moments before promising home-visits and future care, but now she seemed on-edge and prepared, something like angry, raging even, only it was focused - and right now it was focused on the red band around her arm. The witch's eyes took in her form with a glare, then the emptiness outside and around her, but they did not seem anymore relieved.<br/><br/>"Officer... Wojcik, if I remember."  It was not a note of politeness, though her manners came naturally.  Their only meeting before had, arguably, put them on the same side, so the reasons for this womans reactions to her had to come from something else, emphasizing her theory about the message concerning Kohler's mission.<br/><br/>Resisting the urge to return such an expression as she looked down on the redhead, Wojcik nodded once and took a deep breath.  "Madamoiselle Devereaux," she sighed, "May I come in?  Please?"<br/><br/>The question, or her regard, caught the witch offguard. It didn't seem to disarm her, but it was enough to give the officer passage as she stepped back, an irritated hand ushering her entrance much the same way it had her patients leave.  Wojcik removed her beret, fidgeting for only a moment before turning back to her host,who eyed her skeptically and impatiently, but closed the door with more care than most could boast in such a state.  Which brought the hat to still in the officers hands.<br/><br/>The healer turned on her, stance defensive without actually being set for a physical altercation.  It was a step, she hoped.  "What can I do for you, officer?"  Then again, she hadn't fought many witches in her time, it could be just that sort of posture.<br/><br/>"I know what you are," she started, "as I know what Officer Kohler and Advocate Jaeger are from the night we met.  Officer Fabiano was injured that night, I believe by the Oberstleutenant.  So, I need to know what your relationship is, was, or will be with the demon as you can provide."<br/><br/>It wasn't the most graceful opening, but it was true, and as the father pointed out: she had never been one to bat around the issue.  So she didn't.  "I originally came her to investigate the disappearance of one of my men, but as you did not know he'd even come by, I don't believe you could be much help with that.  As another was attacked by this creature and is not in his company on a mission that I have reason to believe is either false or being manipulated by his whims, I must have as much knowledge as I can possess before taking further action.  From the reaction you had to each others' presences, I also have reason to believe you can offer such knowledge.<br/><br/>"I do not ask for it freely, though the situation might warrant it.  I have it on good sources that you are with God, or that He is with you, at the very least, so I will trust His judgement by trusting you.  I am the product of a union between seraph and mortal, my mother having been a healer much like yourself and teacher of His ways.  She named me Wojcik, which is "warrior" to the Polish tongue, and I am to do His work until he sees fit to return me to his side ascending my soul, whether it be through death or divinity as His soldier for ever.  I cannot imagine that work would be beside a witch let alone a demon."<br/><br/>Her eyes were locked hard with those of the woman by the door.  Somehow, she hoped, the witch would understand her plight.  "I must know with whom I am dealing."