Djal.

The smell of brimstone, ozone and burning hair fills your nostrils. Looking in your rear-view mirror, you see Djal laying in your back seat, panting heavily, black smoke and steam rising off him. His suit is in tatters and his hair is singed, except for a flaming patch on top, which he promptly snuffs out with his hand. "Hoo boy," he chuckles, coughing out more smoke. "been a long time since I've had to fight one of Geae's children like that." Giving you the human gesture of appreciation, a thumbs up, he smiles at you. "If you weren't busy laying with that woman, I wouldn't have had the strength to counter it."

You're not sure how you feel about receiving a compliment from a demon that just went toe-to-toe with a force of nature, and managed to fight it to a draw, because you were having sex. Shrugging, you resign yourself to this strange symbiotic relationship you have with him and say to yourself "This is my life now."

When you pull into your driveway, you look at Djal in your mirror again. Drumming your thumbs on the wheel for a bit, you sigh. "Hey Djal? I...I just want to say thank you, for... you know, not letting us die or whatever. I, I really appreciate that."

Djal suddenly appears in your passenger seat, smiling broadly. He reaches out and firmly puts his hand on your shoulder. "I'm a demon of my word," he nods sagely, "besides, you can't build my army if you're dead."

"Right," you say, getting out of your car and walking back to your house. That's probably the best thing you should have expected from him. You've been in your home for barely a minute when frantic and incessant knocking starts coming from your door.