Blake tilted his head to the right and then the left, the sound of popping bones accompanying both actions. He followed this gesture by interlocking his fingers and likewise cracking them.

“Blake, Blake, Blake,” Azrael grinned. “Who are we kidding? You’re no match for me.” Blake smiled, shrugged the statement off. “C’mon, Blake,” Azrael continued, “why don’t you just let me make it fast and painless? I wasn’t joking, you know, I really do like you. I’d rather not have to hurt you.”

“Ditto,” Blake replied. “But, you know, sleep with dogs…”

Azrael was taken aback by Blake’s brazen tone. “You dare…”

“I got some tricks left, winged wonder. So, let’s dance.”

“Your famed tattoos? Sorry, pal, but none are on par with me. I can even counter that nice resurrection tat you had inked.”

“Good thing I had some done on the sly, huh?” Blake replied. “Wasn’t easy to get some of Lucifer’s blood, but it sure makes for a nice red color.” Azrael looked dumb-founded. “Oh, wait, wasn’t he a more powerful archangel than you?”