Demand answers

"Oy, look, 'bright eyes' here needs some answers. Catherine, the heck, you're a full blown hunter?" James protested, anger showing in his voice.
Catherine looked at him, initially her face was mask, unreadable. Then a warm grin broke her face as she walked over to James. Taking his face in her warm hands, she planted a blood stained kiss on his lips. Her hot breath, floral-vinegar sent, and gentle but insistent soft lips were the same he had come to love. The quick lick her tongue through his teeth let him know she meant the kiss. The brief intimacy and privacy afforded by their close faces dissolved James' anger. "Later love, tonight's hunt has begun early, and I can't hunt knowing you're still on the streets. Please."
James blustered at her request. He was supposed to be the masculine protector, but... he knew she could survive the hunt. His appearance had only distracted the hunters from landing their finishing blows.
"So I guess you know this bloke?" said the second hunter from behind.
A brief introductions followed, returning the hunter his gun, whose name seemed to be Petyr of the choir. Before they all but pushed James from the scene, and rushed off him off the bridge. James got a glimpse of an approaching group, all dressed it the blacks and whites of the church. One among them was a hulking giant of a man, easily standing at 10 feet tall.
James followed Catherine's instruction half out of shell shock, and half out of good sense. Locking himself in his workshop for the night.