"Of course." Charlie replied as she took Burberry's hand, "I'd be glad to help with whatever it is you need."

Enma winced as the bullets went through his flesh. They hurt like hell, but they weren't holy items so they didn't cause any lasting damage. His wounds quickly closed before he hissed and vanished in a poof of smoke, hopefully to somewhere less crowded. There was a reason he rarely left Hell. Mortals were illogical panicky creatures. It didn't matter how polite he would try to be, the end result was the same.