Beads of sweat rolled down his face. Daimon almost had it, his grasp strong and relentless--the demon was panicking now, scrounging around for its strength, desperate and afraid. It was a wild animal trapped in a cage, doing everything it could to break free. When the demon took back its essence, Daimon remained unfazed, unmoving. The demon was pissed, tired, scared, all of which he could work with, and if he'd been given even just a few more seconds--
Son of a bitch.
The flame is Daimon's eyes vanished, his connection with the monster completely severed by the intrusion of Nick's energy. No. No. A guttural snarl rumbled in his chest as he whipped around, jaw clenched and eyes set furiously on Nick and his panicked companion. He watched as the demon found its footing and started toward them, evoking a small, bitter smirk to creep harshly across his face. They'd made one thing clear--Daimon was not trusted to do his job. What a goddamn farce.
In the half-second he'd considered handing over the reins since they obviously felt they could handle the situation much better than he could, Daimon summoned his trident, manifested in a whirlwind of fire that danced onto his arm and spread over his entire body. His mark of the Darksoul lit up like magma, and his eyes grew red and diabolical. The sneer on his face widened; if they weren't going to trust him, they were just going to have to get the fuck out. Satanson pointed his spear at Jessica and Fury, channeled the magic that flowed in his veins, and released a burst of fiery energy that engulfed and teleported them.
"Assholes." Rolling his shoulders back, Daimon breathed in, anger and adrenaline brewing a violent storm in his chest. He turned on the demon before it could get too far and trapped it midair, with a snap of his wrist sent the creature back on the table. Daimon was done playing games with this rancid, inhuman waste. He rushed up on the creature like a viper to its prey, pinned it down by its neck, leaned over and impaled Wanda's chest with his trident.
Blue and red flames burst beneath them, dispersed and rolled to every corner of the room, climbed up the trembling walls. Hellfire pumped into the monster, no longer protected by Wanda's flesh. Daimon kept a vice-grip, bent closer to flash his spiteful grin, bore his livid gaze searchingly, completely paralyzed the demon. He wanted the demon to watch, feel, completely understand what he was about to do next. As it struggled, Hellstorm grinned more cruelly, stuck the metal prongs in a little deeper.
"Where do you think you're going?" Head tilted with mock curiosity, Daimon tore at the demon's thoughts. A feat couldn't be done so easily. Not without a connection with the demon, and not without a little repercussion. This wasn't going to feel good to Wanda. But that was a lesser evil, he promised. Daimon tugged harder, more violent, until he'd retrieved exactly what he wanted. He let out a low, wicked chuckle. "Asmodeus."