"I could do it. Putting me down... it's not easy." It's not bragging, it's just a fact. Hunters are resilient. Back home, a normal human can't take one out even with the entire magazine of a gun. Even now she can die at mortal hands, it has to take her down instantly. Or it's just not going to take. "The damage I took, back with the hellhounds? Usually that heals up instantly."

Fever saw a touch of that particular trick, with the burning alcohol. But it's not just small wounds. She'd had her side opened and leg torn up, back in Hell. And she still kept going even then, when it wasn't healing.

Hunters. Not even once.