Everything about the whole situation was wrong. Katharine knew it even before she set foot in the small house belonging to Ethan Arc. Ethan Arc. A deceptively common name for a not-so-common man. In fact, everything about the whole deal was just... too common. Too normal. Ethan Arc was a monster, but he knew how to hide it well.

It had taken months. Months and months of careful investigation. Of picking up clues and following a scattered trail that stopped and started with no warning. It had taken hours and hours or painstaking research, staking out dives and weaselling information from the few of his minions she had managed to catch. It had taken some time more to make certain that the information was right. After all, Ethan Arc was just... too normal. Still, her months of surveillance, her careful casebuilding, had lead to one conclusion. 

Still, even now, with the cross-hairs of her investigation narrowed in squarely upon the man, she wasn't certain how to act. Was he as mere a man as he seemed, the answer would have been simple. A shot through the heart or head, a slitting of the throat... It was as easy as it was despicable. Katherine did not kill humans. Only the blood of the supernatural would spill through her fingers. She did not kill the innocent. Ethan Arc, however, was neither. He was a mage, a dabbler in dark magic. No, not a mere dabbler. A master. And mere bullets or knives would not be sufficient. 

However, it seemed she was not given the chance to consider her best option. Nobody less than the snake that was Jack the shadow had slipped into the house. She had known he was in the area. Word tended to travel in the small bars she tended to frequent. When she found out who he had been enquiring about, her heart had frozen. What did that weasel think he was doing? Of course, the warning she had tossed his way hadn't been heeded. And now, he was forcing her hand. 

“Goddamnit.” She cursed as the man made his entrance. She had no choice. If that fool attacked, Ethan knew people were on to him. He'd disappear again. Probably take on a new name. Would become another random face in the crowd. She'd have to hunt for months again to get back on his trail. She could not afford that. Not now. Not again. She had to risk it. 

“You fucking idiot.” She once again cursed as she stepped out of her car, jogging the small distance to the house. Her hands fell across hips and arms, checking all her usual weapons were in place. Guns. Throwing knives. The usual demon repellents. Ol' Faithful had to stay behind. In such a rural area, the weapon would cause too much attention. But damnit if she didn't want to shove it up a certain asshole's asshole. He was ruining everything. 

A loud thump sounded from inside, of something meaty hitting something solid. A voice spoke. Not Jack. He had made his move, and failed. All she could hope for was that Ethan was distracted enough for her to strike true. She did not like her chances.