Marcus knows it's Joan and not some demonic hallucination, because —
He can't say how. He just knows. He whips around, and there's real alarm on his face, eyes wide and colour all gone. "You can't be here," he hisses, and then he realises that Joan is hanging off a goddamn trellis three storeys up, and that the demon in Daniel isn't the smartest one he's dealt with, but it won't miss and opportunity like that.
He dives for the window and grabs for her hand just as the wood gives way beneath her left foot. "Hold on! Jesus Christ, Joan, what the bloody hell do you think you're doing, huh?"
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He can't say how. He just knows. He whips around, and there's real alarm on his face, eyes wide and colour all gone. "You can't be here," he hisses, and then he realises that Joan is hanging off a goddamn trellis three storeys up, and that the demon in Daniel isn't the smartest one he's dealt with, but it won't miss and opportunity like that.
He dives for the window and grabs for her hand just as the wood gives way beneath her left foot. "Hold on! Jesus Christ, Joan, what the bloody hell do you think you're doing, huh?"