"Ready when you are, my dear," Merlin replied, sliding the glass across.
"Ready when you are, my dear," the fake mimicked, changing from Freyr to Merlin, his posture an uncanny duplicate. "Oh my. Hecate. The sex dreams he's had about you." He gave her an up and down, his gaze dragging over her body. Merlin frowned, affronted.
"Is that really what I look like?" he said, cocking his head as the demon looked upward at the trap, walking in a circle below it, checking it for flaws he could spot with Merlin's mind. But no, Hecate's craft was too good.
"You can't kill me," the demon said, and Merlin snorted.
"I'd do it no matter what face you took," he replied.
The demon looked at Hecate. "He might be mercenary, but are you?" he asked, a shadow passing across until he looked like a fifteen year old boy, all wounded eyes and torn up arm and throat, pleading with her to help him. "You saved me once, and I- please- I'll do anything-"