Shake his hand.

It's a lose/lose situation anyway, might as well try to save as many lives as you can. Your hand burns as you shake his hand. When you look at your palm, an intricate series of lines and circles have been etched into your skin. "Smart choice." Djal says, leaning back in his seat. He picks his cup up and motions for you to do the same. You do so, and he clinks them together before taking another long sip.

He notices that your eyes keep flicking upstairs. "I wouldn't worry about her," he says. "She'll be sleeping for the rest of the day. Which gives us time to talk. I haven't been to this plane for centuries. So, you are going to tell me everything you know, and I will tell you everything you need to know."

You sigh, and resign yourself to your fate. But you do try to establish some kind of line. "Not here," you say, moving to the door. "We'll talk at my place. I saw that look you had when you were at Katie's door. I don't trust you to keep your word on that, so I won't even give you a chance to be anywhere near her."

Djal stands up and dusts off his pants. He stands next to you at the door and gives you a small half-smile. "You wound me. A demon's word is their bond. But you are right not to trust me. If we hadn't shook on it, there is nowhere you could hide her from me."

You spend the rest of the day back at your house, trading information with Djal. You try your best to give him as much false information as possible, but he manages to trick you into correcting yourself and feeding him the truth. He returns the favor by showing you how to magically alter your clothes so that they all fit perfectly.

You don't get much sleep that night, knowing that evil has been brought into the world. And that you agreed to spread it.