Ember brushed her soft golden curls from her eyes, feeling the sting of the salty sea air as it hit them, making them water a little. She had been pulled from her warm cosy bed at 4am to deal with a sea monster without so much as a sip of coffee and the adrenaline rush was beginning to wear off.

Philip's urgent tones had been for good cause; they had a demon in their midst. Ordinarily, she would have conjured a protective ward to limit the Underworld denizen's ability to cause harm, then binded it within a restrictive circle of energy, finally using her Command Words to return it to where it came.

Instead, she stood open-mouthed and motionless.

The lead mage jerked his head to the grey, horned demon, as a prompt for her to do her thing. The thing she was qualified to do. "Come on, half-elf, what are you waiting for?" he hissed.

The demon approached. He was wearing a tailored suit under a long, black robe, with a high collar around his strong neck. On his top-most pocket he had an emblem of twisted horns. On his head, either side of his short sleek crop of dark hair, was a real set of horns that reached back and ended in a point. His belt buckle shone in the streetlamp light and his smart shoes were polished. Philip did not have much dealings with demons but those he had seen were not this well-dressed. If it wasn't for the bone wings and tail the guy looked like he'd sell you a mortgage. Or a Lamborghini.

Ember slowly stepped forward to meet him, her expression soft, her hands open and reaching instead of poised and charged.  She brushed her fingers against his burgundy silk shirt, let them glide up to his cheek and looked deep into his evil eyes. "You're not him," she scowled. "You almost had me fooled..." her hands whipped into a protective stance, her palms out flat and vertical in front of him, a green glow spreading across her skin.

"No, I am not him," Peregrin explained with a gentle shake of the head. "He was my son."

Ember remained on alert; how many years ago had that been, now? When the gorgeous grey demon had appeared within her circle, a half-eaten sandwich in his hand, offering to assist her in her studies and lay in her bed? It had been a thrill-ride worthy of any theme park; she'd been coerced into hunting down advanced spells, seduced, been given wonderful gifts, watched a pet astral panther capture and devour a rogue denizen of Hell that was terrorising a classroom of students, and finally had it all taken away from her in the blink of an eye by Hell management. She'd not had chance to say goodbye. She'd never known if her lovely demon's plans on escaping the Underworld were ever brought to fruition. For years she had pushed it all away and kept herself busy with her studies and now her career, but in one agonising instant that longing was back in full force, that yearning to be someone special, to be loved so fiercely again.

Anar's father was just as handsome, though a little older, but his long face was stern and cold. Anar's eyebrows had wiggled playfully, his smile came easy despite his suffering. This man's mouth was cruel. She made to activate the protective ward -

"Wait!" Peregrin held aloft a slender finger. "I only wish to talk. My son is in a lot of trouble. He needs help. He has... few allies."

"I bet!" she snapped.

"And many enemies."

Her soft, elven features crumpled. "Is he ok?" she asked, the glow of charged energy fading as concern took over her concentration.

"I don't want to tell you how to do your job or anything, Ember..."

"Oh, give over, Philip! If this guy was a problem I'd have took him down by now. I'm going for coffee. If you need me, you've got my contact." She tossed her head, tidying her hair in an effort to look like she hadn't just rolled out of bed even though that was pretty much exactly what she'd done. She straightened out her colourful work robes and led Peregrin to her red Vauxhall Corsa whereupon a second stranger appeared as if from nowhere.

"Hullo!" he smiled with bright teeth.

Ember blinked.

The young-ish, tanned, chisel-featured human had small stud horns, sweet little leather wings and a stubby-ended tail. He almost didn't look demonic. Almost.

Peregrin introduced him; "this is my colleague, Crispin. He was one of my son's acquaintances."

Ember smirked; how hard was it for a demon to say 'friend'? "I see."

"Wow, you're really pretty,” the handsome demon grinned, “beautiful, even. Do you have green eyes? Sorry..."

Ember flipped the catch on the passenger seat, folding it down to allow Crispin to climb in the back, "a demon who says sorry? You're a friend of Anar's all right," she sighed.

"I don't usually slip, I was just dazzled a bit, it's the elven features, they have me like a rabbit in headlights. My father's a Director, you know. We have a summer house in Nice. Do you ski?"

Peregrin had a frown. Corsa's were definitely below his pay grade.

"We can't all have Mercs, Mr. Warlock," she smiled sweetly, enjoying his discomfort as she started the engine. "Cheer up. Could be you on the back seat."

He rumbled under his breath, fussing about where to put his shoes on the muddy mat in the footwell.

"Now, what's all this about? I have two Underworld workers with me and my boss is going to have some questions and possibly a performance review in store for me."

"You are the only mortal to have seen my son in the last five years. It caused quite a stir; if he had been in a managerial position it could have gone very badly for his career. As it was, he received a written warning and was under tighter scrutiny for a while."

"Not tight enough, though!" Crispin grinned, leaning in between the two front seats.

"What does that mean?"

"My son... has escaped his contract."

Ember's chest rose and she took a deep gasp of elation, "he did it! He actually did it! How? What did he do?" she sped up onto the open road, taking advantage of the lack of traffic.

"He got a meeting with the contract dragon!" Crispin butted in, giddily.

Now it was Peregrin's turn to be confused, "contract... dragon?!"

"Yeah, dude in charge of the contracts was a dragon by all accounts. I mean, I never met him. I don't think anyone did, that I know of. He had an office in the old building, down where the basement was." He shivered at the memory of that place. His father was almost sent there only a few days ago.

"A dragon!" Peregrin was focussed on this detail, his eyes lighting up.

"Makes sense, right? Ancient mythical creature like a dragon in an ancient place like Hell." Crispin hadn't thought twice about it, but seeing the Director's reaction was making him reassess that.

"But how exactly could a dragon get Anar out of Hell? And if he's out, where is he now?" Ember wondered. Her heart was fluttering; would she see him again? Could they pick up where they had left off? She'd been too busy working to see anyone, a hot date was long past due!

"He told me he was going to Warlock Court." Crispin couldn't understand why they hadn’t gone there directly. The Director must have good reason. He was probably scheming on multiple levels.

"So, why are you bothering me instead of going there?"

Peregrin's chin jutted and he pulled his cloak over his lap, neatly. "I'm not welcome there," he replied simply.

"Oh." She drove in silence for a few more minutes before turning for her home road. "Well, you're not going to find him at my house," she said finally, finding a space to park. "More's the pity."

They climbed out of the small hatchback into the glow of dawn, the birds were twittering in the trees that lined the avenue, the air smelled fresh. Beyond more houses and fields was a series of white spires and small, domed roofs.

"That's the polytechnic I studied at," Ember said, following their line of sight, "they're under guidance of and regulated by the Council."

Peregrin's expression turned sour and his ears swivelled back, flattening. He knew Ember didn't mean the local county council; she meant the Council of Sorcerer's.

"Are you ok there, Mr. Warlock?" she turned her key in the lock and walked into her kitchen, shrugging off her mage cloak, followed very closely by Crispin.

 "Anar always said that strange things happened to him, and people he needed would turn up at the right time. Did he ever say that to you, Crispin?" she asked as she collected mugs with a clink and switched on the kettle.

"Yes, he did! I turned up just as something important of my father's was stolen and Anar got it back for him, actually. In return for a favour. You know how a demon loves a favour."

"Mmmm I do." Pouring coffee granules in, she sagged, "I always wondered… if that were really true, exactly what was it that he needed me for? I hacked the library computer to get a scroll that allowed a demon to have roaming privileges, but it didn't do what he wanted it to. Poor Anar was actually no better off after being with me. In fact, he got into trouble for it."

Crispin stood behind her, his hand at her waist, gently. "Maybe he just needed someone to listen to him? To care about him. I think everyone wants that, deep down."

Peregrin swept in, closing the door with a rough shove, looking daggers at his doe-eyed sidekick, who took a step back from the pretty half-elf girl. He spoke to her: "You work for the Council, don't you, Ember? Have you ever heard our name mentioned during your duties?"

"What, Warlock? I mean, we hear about warlocks -lower case warlocks, all the time, making pacts with demons like yourselves for a sprinkling of unregulated power. There was some wild talk a while ago of our Senior Mage, Rowan Aldbury, going a bit ga-ga over warlocks and dragons in a far-off galaxy. Nothing was officially recorded, or rather, nothing recorded was taken seriously, so we all assumed it was the lowercase warlock kind of situation. Or genuine mental illness. However, after hearing Crispin talk about dragons... and with you asking about the Council... it does make me wonder. What connection do you have with the Council exactly, Mr. Warlock?" she offered him black coffee and waited for his reply.