The woman's assurance that her boyfriend was still in training earned little more than a non-committal grunt from the blonde Hunter, the man already deciding he hardly cared what she chose to do in her free time, Azrael already of the opinion that Kohl would likely never actually be of any use- why the council even wanted to recruit him remained a matter to be seen, although whether they had informed Kat of their decision to attempt to enslave him like they had the rest of them he hardly knew, the girl seeming oddly protective of her....companion despite the fact she was hardly his creator. The matter, for now, was removed from his mind, attention focused instead upon the task at hand, the single purpose for which he had thusly been created and perhaps the one and only reason he stole rose within the mornings in some attempt to pretend his existence truly held some form of meaning. An existence he has long since become disenchanted with, only adding perhaps, to his already bitter nature and continued frustration with those around him. He blames her, to some extent, that dark-haired witch with the blue eyes- for having forced long since dust-covered emotions to actually surface, those small and buried parts of himself he had long since dismissed forced to sputter into life at her mere presence, the apathy he had managed to achieve these past few years continually thrown against him each and every time his gaze manages to find her. It is...ridiculous, futile, weak and he has no desire to encourage it further, some part of his mind relishing the work put before him if only for the distraction it provides from the world around him and a fucking useless emotion he hardly wishes to feel for a creature is only destined to kill. His...fondness for Serafina is nothing if not foolhardy in itself, a fondness he has gone to great lengths to hide from the council and his fellow hunters, utterly unwilling to be caught within such a tangle and it is better- he is sure, to have the girl mad with him and perhaps finally convinced to stay away.

Kat's voice behind him seems to momentarily pull his thoughts away from the dead warlock he steps so casually over, fingers gracing the bell at the reception desk if only for the ridiculous irony he takes from ringing it, that delicate little chime seeming to possess a foreboding all it's own that brings a passing smile to his lips, head turning slightly back towards the female hunter as his own shoulders roll in a shrug of sorts.

"No- but it's one less we have to fight."

Witches, in his experience, were like Were's. The peril of one seemed to illicit the response of others, the ridiculous creatures seeming to possess the ability to band together that was both agitating and yet perhaps mildly admirable in their determination to die together- his own thoughts interrupted once more but the arrival of yet another, athletically muscled frame given to turn towards this newer voice and the faint yet radiating implication of...age that seemed to exist upon this individual. Alexander. He knew of the man and yet aside from his knowledge of the Inner Sanctum, the coffee house he owned and ran, Az held little interest within him. He was old- that much could be easily ascertained, older then himself and yet by how much he hardly knew, nor cared to know, in truth the other blonde and his seeming desire to serve coffee to the very species he was supposed to hunt was, in Azraels opinion, rather a confliction of interest. In truth, perhaps- such complacency very near terrified him, the man dreading the day he became so entirely disenchanted with his own existence that he took it upon himself to become a...barista, golden eyes briefly meeting the blue green of the other man, offering the barest nod of sorts before returning his attention to the empty reception desk before him.

Whatever interest he may have taken from Alex's adventures outside the coffee house however are short lived, the sensation of a supernatural, a living one and close by, seeing the blonde Hunter abruptly pause, golden eyes rapidly scanning the room around him before the sudden smash of glass sees him pivot in place. The all-consuming dark smog that erupts eliciting a sudden and unknowing response from himself, his newer power only barely within his capabilities to control, the darkness that surrounds them resulting in the Hunter....lighting up, an unearthly glow seeming to outline so much of his form, shafts of light shattering that dark façade and providing both himself and his companions with the light the smog had so attempted to rid them off. It is merely unfortunate perhaps that such an effect results in Azrael becoming rather a beacon, a terribly easy target to be hit, a frown of sorts marring his features now, a slight hiss of discord passing though his lips- the man simply unable to turn it off- lacking this knowledge of his power as that smoke continues to slither forward across the floor- ravishing the body of the warlock he had previously eliminated- the flesh upon him promptly disintegrating.

"Shit."

The glowing Hunter, spares only a glance or so towards his companions, eyes suddenly drawn upward and above them to a landing of sorts, the barest glimpse of...someone descending into the depths of the hotel seeing his eyes narrow, feet sliding further and further back and away from the creeping smoke.

"Alex, Kat- above you."

He is only further separated from his hunting companions by the smokes increasing path, the man forced to step up and onto the reception desk now, pressed further and further back and towards the far wall, eyes rapidly seeking a door to his left- though where the hell it lead he hardly knew, the stairs closer to Alex, at least, seeming to lead upward to another level, more doors to the right of Kat leading god only knows where.

"I guess were going to play lucky door prize."

There was hardly a choice, the tension within his voice easy enough to read, Azrael intensely liking any situation outside of his own control, a hiss of smoke against his leg seeing another muttered curse pass his lips- even this faint touch seeing a burn of sorts already begin to appear beneath the hole it has left within his jeans, skin forming a welt where it had touched.

"We need to get off this fucking floor, you two take the stairs, she's up there somewhere, I'll catch up with you- this door looks like it leads to staff quarters or something."

The smoke was only giving him the option of one door as it was, the man lingering only long enough to actually provide some light for his companions to see by, rather hoping they hurried up and moved before they lost the witch within this maze of a hotel.