Harry felt... awkward. He'd never seen this end of a demonic possession, but he'd seen psychic trauma before, and Jo was displaying all the usual signs. She would heal. It would take time, but she would heal. She was strong enough to.
He only hoped life would give her the chance to do so.
He'd gotten most of the salt circle off the floor when Jo stole away into the bathroom. Using a touch of fire magic, he vaporized the bits with his blood, and got back to his feet. "I know there's a tattoo parlor in town," he said. "Not more than a few blocks away. If that mark works, might not be a bad idea to spread it around."
Harry was no idiot. He knew this was bad. "Your friend the angel always that helpful?" he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.