Alexei leaned on the table, shoving his hands into his pockets. "You don't scare easy, do you? Surrounded by knives, guns, holy voodoo… and you just sip coffee like it's Tuesday."
"It is Tuesday," Elijah replied, already loading his bag.
The young master laughed. "God, I love you."
Elijah glanced up, unimpressed. "Stay close when we get there. Don't touch anything unless I say so."
"Of course. Daddy's orders." Alexei smirked.
He grabbed a flask off the shelf, squinting at the label. "So what's this one? Demon tequila?"
Elijah plucked it neatly from his hand, setting it back with care. "Consecrated oil."
"To fry demons?"
"Enough, Alexei."
The coldness in the exorcist's voice made him bite the inner lining of his lower lip. It shouldn't have thrilled him the way it did.
"Shit," he cursed softly, more at himself than Elijah. "I even love it when you say my name in that stern voice."
Elijah closed his eyes briefly before reopening them, a quiet dismissal evident in his gaze.
