"I don't know what the fuck you are so for all I know you could be," he snaps back. Or a demon, a skinwalker or a myriad of other creatures. Christ, he wishes he had some salt or holy water. He's getting those things the moment he can, a silver blade on top of it.

His lips upturn in a sneer at the mention of his deal. "I made that deal to save my brother's life, asshole. That's different," he bites out. It was always different when they do it. Witches were bad, evil, he's never met a good witch and he doubts he ever will. "And I would do it again and again to save him. They're not the same, that witchy spell and my deal. It's different."