"I've got somewhere in mind." Daimon licked the blood off his lips and smiled wickedly. "Perfect for loathsome little fuckers like you." Just as he suspected, this demon was of higher merit. Even more likely to be someone's right hand. Hellstorm needed to know who, but this demon was no fool; it wasn't going to give up its leader so easily. It seemed much more inclined to try and get under his skin. To say so much and nothing at all. He really hated these goddamned blabbering types.
"In the meantime, chatting seems to be your thing. And since you're so against introductions, let's skip the formalities, shall we?" Hand hovering over Wanda's chest, Daimon charged hellfire into the demon's life force. "Tell me what the fuck I want to know."