Crowley gave her a look. Being a demon (who ran Hell, at that) he could tell she didn't have the sort of soul he could snag. Most people in the hotel didn't, to be fair; they were of no use to him unless they were made in his particular realm and he seemed to be alone in that. But that, plus her somewhat unorthodox appearance, made him inspect her curiously.

That, and she was talking about Hell like he'd been referring to Omaha (which was sort of close...). "Not originally," he said. "You have to die in order to get there, usually - and also have done some naughty things first. But it's home. What about you?"