The realization that he was the Demon Lord she'd summoned came with little surprise. This had less to do with the state of her soul and more to do with what Wanda believed were the machinations of a particularly sadistic fate. Of course it was Daimon. Why shouldn't the man who'd introduced her to the occult appear when she was most desperate, simply to witness her monumental failure. It only seemed fitting.
"Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world," she murmured sardonically and gazed up at him. Now that he was here she wasn't sure what exactly to say to him. Politesse wasn't exactly necessary in the situation. Anyway, Wanda didn't think one made small talk with it when you summoned a demon lord, even if you'd slept with him before.
"Why you?" she finally ventured, wondering if it was simply coincidence. Somehow, she doubted it. Fate, she figured, with its twisted sense of humor. Still, she supposed it could be worse. Well, maybe. Wanda wasn't even sure if he'd be happy to see her. They'd been apart for such a long time. How comforting, that seeing an ex was awkward regardless of the circumstances, whether running into them out shopping or conjuring them from the pits of Hell.