He'd gotten an expression out of her with the word, but it wasn't one of those that came from an uncomfortable demon. So she wasn't possessed, but as he drew closer, he noticed the gun. She also knew how to use it. Eliot raised his hands just enough to show he wasn't carrying anything himself, glancing quickly once more down the street. The voices were still faint. A sign, he hoped, that they weren't going to pursue.
"Especially when just about everyone else is sporting black eyes," he said. A quiet snort followed. "I'm alive. Guess that counts." His truck had come off worse, at least from what he'd seen before he'd run to avoid ending up full of buckshot. Since when did demons use guns anyway?
"You look familiar. Complex, right?" he asked, slowly lowering his hands. "I live there too." Usually, when the damn place wasn't suddenly selective with which residents could get in. It really hadn't helped his case when he'd tried to convince Parker that he wasn't possessed. "I'm Eliot."