Daemon was only out for a few seconds. When he came to, he felt himself being deposited on the bed, and as the hands that supported him vanished, he rolled over, his body aching, and began to cough, clearing his burning lungs.

"Hell's fire, Mother Night, and may the Darkness be merciful," he wheezed out, rolling onto his side as he lifted a hand to his swelling jaw. He was going to have a hell of a lot of bruises tomorrow.