This whole time Jessica stood back, on the edge and aching with tension . She didn't know much about exorcisms, but somehow she'd thought it would be a simpler feat. Hellstrom's attempts seemed to fuel the monsters taunts more than anything, and she was was growing more nervous and frustrated. "It's not bloody working, is it?" her voice trembled. Would anything? She flinched, all color draining from her face as the crack of Wanda's skull boomed alarmingly in her ears. Jessica sucked in a sharp breath, reached for Nick to keep herself steady. How could Wanda survive this? said the worrying voice in the back of her mind. Panic filled up in her chest, in her throat, and though she'd tried for Daimon, for Wanda, to keep it together, Jessica couldn't help it when instinct urged her to react and leave their protection to go to her friend.
"Don't."
Jessica staggered backward, pushed by a burst of red-gold energy that dispersed into a crystalline barrier. Hellstorm barely looked at the woman when he did it, ignoring her as she cursed and said Wanda's name. Daimon's face twisted with pure contempt for the creature before him, for a fleeting moment soothed by the thought of ripping the demon right out of Wanda's chest, tearing it to pieces while it screamed and begged and watched its own rotting carcass incinerate. As soon as the day dream passed, Hellstorm cracked a cruel smirk born of his growing rage, and cut a gash into his own palm with an elongated nail, unbothered by the blood dripping down his arm, and drew crimson symbols along Wanda's body.
"You're stronger than I gave you credit for, I'll give you that," he muttered gruffly. The symbols drawn, Hellstorm brought his hands over Wanda's body and chanted in a dead language, a powerful incantation that belonged to an ancient civilization. The demon was too strong, any other would have long extinguished under Daimon's skill. This one, he had to wear down until it snapped. Two could play that game.