"You can't be serious? Are you really that desperate to crawl back to the mortal realm with your bony tail between your legs, that you're pulling this twaddle out of your grey arse?"

Crowley had an expression of mixed emotions - disbelief that the aardvark could be so brazen in his attempts to shirk duties and go hide away with the living, curiosity in how far Peregrin was willing to go to cover his son's blatant disregard to the workplace code of conduct and, finally, excitement that maybe this colossal twit of an animal was finally going to be kicked out of the boardroom.

"I have free passage through the Link between realms, this is a mere courtesy on my half to relay where I am going and why. Quite frankly, Crowley, you can stay here and rot for all I care. But when I come back and have something tangible to report to His Infernal Majesty instead of your hearsay and rumours, don't look shocked."

Aleister Crowley, Crown Prince of Hell, sniffed through his pudgy nostrils, his mean little human eyes narrowing, "hearsay and rumours? You wish. While you've been scheming with that idiot Crispin at the swanky lounge, I've been in touch with MY people." He straightened his pentagram tie-pin and smoothed the silk fabric of his neck decoration. "You're not the only one on the hunt." With a brief display of jagged teeth at the word 'hunt' to emphasise his intentions, he turned back to his temporary work station.

The Directors had set up a temporary boardroom of sorts at the leisure club. They'd ordered their lowly assistants to place tables, printers and black leather high-backed swivel chairs in one of the squash halls, because you couldn't claim to be an executive without them. Faxes whirred, phones beeped, shady business was being done.  The skyscraper work hub that had burnt to cinders was supposed to be being fixed up, however this would have required demonic co-operation, something that was beyond most Underworld denizens never mind the biggest of the bigwigs - the Directors. A position where 'not my problem' was a mantra and delegation of work was a duty. It would all get sorted out soon. Somehow. Eventually. The filthy underlings were on it. Possibly. Someone would have given them some orders, right? Not them, personally, no, they were busy; hedge funds didn't manage themselves, you know. Bribing governments was time-consuming. Siphoning profits from dodgy deals involving real estate that may or not be illegally built on greenbelt land a top priority. Totally out of the question for them to put it all together again. Maybe they should have a working lunch over it? Speaking of lunch...

Peregrin turned his back on the other boardroom elites; they were all wrapped up in their own little worlds.

Except Crowley. The skeevy human often threatened doom and destruction upon the Warlocks, it was a past-time of his of sorts.

Peregrin's mind was already falling into old practises - thinking of ways he could put the blame on others and sure enough the Crowley's were his top target. His son had had Alexis as a boss. Only a middle manager, sure, but there must have been some surviving paperwork he'd signed off on that could be seen as suspicious, or some expenses sheets that were fudged. They were demons! Merkren had been tasked with digging up every crumb of dirt on the Crowleys that his ugly paws could get.

That was why you burned down a building; to destroyed evidence. Yes, his son had done it, he knew that. Anar had been raised well, even if it wasn't always obvious. He could be devious in his own ways. All Peregrin had to do was find a good enough reason for Alexis Crowley to have done it and do a switch-a-roo. Shift the blame.

That wasn't to say he didn't have others in line to take the fall. It was time to grab his new, unwilling sidekick and find this demonologist girl that he'd heard about.

Lime-green light lit up the morning sky; crackles of energy arced among the drifting clouds as emergency services sirens collected together from different routes through the city, assembling in one destination. Across the water of the bay an enormous dark shape twisted about in the choppy waves, the emerald hues of arcing magic reflecting in their swell, revealing thick suckered tentacles and a sharp beak opening from within a cavernous, pink fleshy hole. The creature grabbed hold of a metal cable connecting two points of a major highway bridge and began to drag it down, folding a concrete support as it pulled, the now dangling tarmac road splitting and cracking like dry icing on a cake.

The green light split into strands, reaching out and lassoing up the falling traffic, bringing terrified citizens to safety, away from the scene of horror and destruction. At the other end of the bridge on the faraway shore, rush-hour commuters had been halted while the colossal squid was being dealt with by the Magical Monster Dispatch Squad.

Six brightly-robed mages waved their hands, controlling the magic with professional ease. Around their necks, magical amulets glowed and shimmered. The chill sea breeze whipped up their tunics and billowed out their gowns but they stayed fixed on the vital task at hand.

"How many more cars are there on the bridge? I'm going to try to reconstruct the support!" one of the mages said.

"Don't waste your resources, Kirrin, we need all of us fixed on this, we'll keep collecting the fallen until every civilian's back safe," another barked, bossily.

"But then the whole bridge will go down! We can't target the kraken until the cars are gone. If we have to get the build department on this they'll ask why we didn't stop the bridge being destroyed," a female voice complained.

An unfamiliar voice spoke up, "I can take the kraken down for you.”

"No, you can't," the authorative lead mage huffed. "We all need to be a team here. No heroes."

"I've never been very good at working in a team. I'm certainly no hero."

"Who is that? The mages tried to look behind them while carefully bringing back heavy vehicles over deep water using their tendrils of bright magic. One slip and it was Splash! Glug glug glug...

Every emergency they went to, you always had one silly sod who turned up thinking they could help, or were adequately trained in magic to save the day. Usually, the police kept random civilians back and off-scene, this one must have slipped through.

The first of the commuter cars clanked down to safety on the bay-side road and the medics rushed from the ambulances to assess if the passengers had remained intact through their ordeal.

The dark water churned. From within, it glowed a bright blue, the waves sparkling as they swirled into a spiralling, rushing vortex.

"What the bloody Hell are you playing at? Pack that in! I'll have you arrested!" the mage who was leading the rescue threatened in a rage. He thought he saw horns. He thought he saw bones spread out in a wing-formation. Two monsters?! He knew he needed a recruitment drive for more members of the MMDS!

"I'm banishing your kraken," the stranger said.

"Banish...?" that was very telling language.

The ground vibrated as the glowing sea opened, the water spinning as though someone had pulled the plug. With a gurgle and a screech, the tentacle beast sank down, losing its grip upon the structure, bridge wires snapping back into place with a mighty twang! And it vanished into the bright light. Gone.

The last of the trucks and vans were set down, safe at last. The bridge was a bit wonky, but still standing at least. The build department - actually the Creative Construction Team - would be relieved. Emergency replacement of such a massive structure using magical means would have been a LOT of paperwork.

"I suppose you think you're clever, using a year's worth of mana for one kraken?" the lead mage huffed, facing the interloper. He recoiled with fright. Monsters he could handle, monsters were his specialty. Demons, however, could be left in the capable hands of his second in command. "Ember!" he squeaked. "You can take it from here. Now, please!"