The demon inside her made Wanda shriek like she was being murdered, contorted and twisted her body to its limit, but still it knew when it was beat. Before Hellstorm could do worse it gasped for him to go fuck himself, departing the body and leaving its waking owner in its place.
Wanda came to slumped against the wall, confused and achey. Her body felt odd, far weaker than it should have. The last thing she remembered brought heat to her cheeks and she quickly averted the gaze she'd fixed on Daimon.Her mind was clear now, that strange aura that had lingered since Daimon appeared was finally gone. With that clarity came a keen sense of shame (of course that would be one of the first emotions she'd get to feel strongly again) at the way she'd been behaving.
Still, she wasn't sure why she'd lost consciousness. Perhaps she was simply overwrought by the situation, the return of her soul shard, and using magic to summon him. Wanda's abilities had been giving her difficultly ately, like their power source was somehow diminished. Probably, it had something to do with her missing soul, and she'd had to rely on raw energy and spells in books, more than her own particular hexes she was accustomed to, to accomplish anything magically. Still, it was an inopportune time to have passed out. She smiled faintly at Daimon, felt a pain in her face and reached up to touch the slash on her cheek, brows knit in concern. Her mouth tasted strange, too, coppery. Something wasn't right.
"What the hell happened to me?" she asked, feeling nauseous. A pain in her face made her reach up to touch the slash on her cheek, brows knit in concern. Her mouth tasted strange, too, coppery. Her chest hurt and there was the smell of sulphur in the air again. Something horrible had happened.