"I'm sure Freyja wouldn't mind another pass at it either," Hecate said, casting cold eyes at the demon. She was no stranger to nudity— who didn't enjoy a naked dance around the fire from time to time?— but seeing this demon like a reflection of her own self was an entirely different thing.
Merlin was right, though; it was wisest to leave. Before it dug too deeply into her head. Before she cast a spell in anger. Before Clementine woke up.
Before she turned for her martini, though, Hecate lifted her hands and wove a charm of silence around the perimeter of the demon trap. Any further goading, any screams for attention, any sound at all the demon made while they were gone would be swallowed up. The sound proofing around Peitho's place was decent, but not so much that there was a risk a neighbour might be tempted to call the cops if the demon decided to turn into a woman and desperately scream the place down.
"That's better," she said, and turned her back on the demon to snatch her martini from the counter. "Let's go."