Re: demon/hood to the rescue
Jason didn't know there was any difference between Scott's abilities and any of the others he had met in the service of the Dragon. They were all skilled and powerful - the Dragon wouldn't bring them on otherwise, and he had no illusions about that. But the girl's flood of images, of which he caught only the blowback, a scattered impression of ugly ideas, stoked his anger and wiped away any other thought.
Behind the Demon's leaping approach came Jason at a run, grabbing the windowframe as he vaulted through, catching a glimpse of candles and crosses and a girl's pained screams. Where the Demon was alacrity, the Hood was weight, hitting the floor hard and standing in hooded silhouette against the moonlight and snowglare. So much for a quiet entry.
Quiet wasn't so much his style anyway, though. When he came into the room, he marked the position of the men with the guns, and as the light failed and one man pissed himself, Jason jerked a hand forward. A man standing near the door felt his hand yanked up by an invisible force, and a pressure on his trigger finger as he blew his own brains out in a flare of light, blood, cerebral matter, and inciting the rest to open fire.