There is a reason, he is sure, that he has avoided women for so long, or more so, has avoided any sort of relationship that involves anything longer then a single night that offers him exactly what he needs. To her credit, Katerina did not take entirely too long to actually exit her boyfriends apartment and get into the car, the girl only having kept him waiting seven minutes and yet as far as Azrael was concerned that was seven minutes too long. For half a moment the man allowed the gold of his gaze to linger upon the other, younger man who lent shirtless against the doorway of the apartment Katerina had only just left. Kohl and himself had never truly seen eye to eye, their encounters with one another, though brief, having assured the often apathetic blonde that Kohl, while far more useful then he often pretended to be, had no true interest in their cause, the man still far to stuck in some fucking ridiculous sense of denial about his own future to actually summon the spine to make himself truly of use, preferring instead to drink and womanize- or at least, that is what the rumours amongst their own kind suggest. What Katerina did with him was hardly his problem and yet as far as Azrael and perhaps some other council members were concerned, Katerina's relationship with a Hunter that refused to Hunt or offer even financial assistance was....frowned upon. Relationships were distractions. She knew that as well as he did and yet that was her mess to solve, he had no desire to concern himself with it. Maybe she was even lucky, maybe just the tiniest bit to have...someone- even if it was only someone to show up at her goddamn funeral.

Pushing those thoughts away the man managed something of a nod to the slender Huntress as she let herself into the passenger seat of the car, Azrael once more rather pointedly ignoring Kohl's look of disdain as they pulled away.

"I'm going to assume your boyfriend has once more refused to actually make himself useful."

It was hardly a question, little more then a mutter of irritation really, a musing more to himself as one hand reached back into the car, pulling out the manila envelope and handing the set of papers to the women- the details and information he had been sent by the council, giving the girl the opportunity to read over what was there as he eased the Aston Martin towards the hotel in question. In truth he loathed these expeditions, preferred to hunt alone, had little interest in supporting another and yet the council rarely asked such things off him, the man resigned to the fact that he could meet their occasional demand with mild co-operation. Besides, there were worse people to be partnered with other then the brunette beside him. At least Katerina was mildly capable.

"We're looking for the owner of a hotel, a women by the name of Rowena I think- check the notes, a witch. Her business has been doing well enough lately to attract council attention, she's attracting far more supernaturals to this side of town then we need- the council wants us to....slow her business down a little."

The barest hint of a simper managed to trace his handsome features, despite so many years within this life, despite so many nights wishing for something else there was still a part of him that relished the hunt, that thrived on it, that took some hidden pleasure from it- one so few seemed to understand. The golden-eyed man easily parked the car a block or so away, sliding effortlessly from the drivers seat, pausing only long enough to assure each and every weapon was in place beneath the sleeveless black hoody he had taken to wearing during working hours, the garment concealing the arsenal that rested beneath and against his toned figure as the man strode easily to open the passenger door for his companion. Maybe it is 2014, yet so much of older times exist within the seemingly youthful looking man still. Azrael paused only long enough to assure Katrina was prepared before striding smoothly down the sidewalk and towards the establishment his information had identified, pausing momentarily to allow the amber gold of his gaze to assess the building. The Witchery.

"They get less and less imaginative with their names every decade."

It was little more than a mumble once more, some vague indication that a sense of humour may actually exist somewhere within the stoic man before he simply proceeded inside and into the reception with Kat in tow, each and every sense alert despite the near expressionless façade that existed upon his features, some brief flicker of thought within his mind given to drift towards that tantalizing raven-haired woman that so often managed to ensnare his attention- before such thoughts of her were roughly shoved away. She was hardly of interest tonight, not a target and certainly not here and thus he refused to offer her any true moment of contemplation- attention directed instead to the reception desk and the single warlock whom seemed to have chosen this unfortunate moment to attempt to check-in. It is with a simple and sheer lack of apathy that the man reaches easily inside his jacket, fingers fastening over the gun within, twisting it easily free before taking a short and sudden aim at the unfortunate fellow, the silencer assuring little more the a momentary disturbance within the air before the warlock tumbled to the floor- a satisfied look briefly crossing his features before the little witch behind the desk screeched and took off, no doubt gone to find the very owner of the establishment Azrael sought.

"Keep a look out, I don't suspect we'll be alone for very long."

The hunter moved to wander almost lackadaisically forward once more, stepping over the dead warlock with casual ease before reaching forward to ring the bell on the reception desk. Was it truly that hard to get a little service around here?