People had gathered around the crash by the time Keegan lurched out of the Jimmy. The damage to the frame had been minimal, but from the sound the engine made he was guessing it would have to be replaced. Which meant it was totaled. Which meant he was out of a vehicle. He looked at the Porsche as the air around him started to visibly darken and grow repulsive. It had not faired nearly as well as the huge Jimmy. Out a vehicle and roughly fifty grand if his guess was good. Fifty grand which would in no way be covered by insurance. Well at least on the bright side his only seizable asset was now scrap metal and he could always start racking up the overtime.

Several of the bystanders were already on their phones contacting the police. They would probably be here any minute. And he was going to have to talk to them. And demons were not good at talking themselves out of problems with the authorities. And the searing of his wrist left no doubt in his mind that someone important was staring at him right this very second. Just one thing after another. He wanted to disappear. The shadows cast by the buildings, cars, signs and posts in his vicinity started to ripple.

What was he going to do? He risked a glance over his shoulder. It could be any one of these people. A young, very well dressed man with red hair stood out to him. He met his eyes for a split second before turning away again. What was he going to do? He could not avoid thinking that maybe he had brought this upon himself. [color=a0410d][i]See, this is what happens when Fate is given the finger by those little lesser sprites, mortals and devils. She waits to catch you with your pants down and then she goes to town on your sorry ass. You don't get any lube or mercy because it was you who tried to fuck her over first. Now there's nothing you can do except hang on to something and wait for her to finish because you brought this on yourself. As everybody knows, except you apparently, there are only three ways to describe Fate when she's been fucked with and they are as follows: Cold. Hard. Bitch.[/i][/color]

Mrs. Blackwell patted his back. [b]"It'll work out,"[/b] she said as if she knew what he was thinking.

[color=a0410d][b]"One way or another,"[/b][/color] Keegan mumbled.

A siren was coming down the street. The patrol car had arrived on the scene. Before he could concentrate on pretending to be good for the officer he had to take care of something. The burning had not stopped. He bit his lip and glared at the mysterious glowing Cyrillic letters. Russian he guessed incorrectly. Keegan turned toward the small crowd and held up the glowing tattoo.

[color=a0410d][b]"Alright, I can't read this shit, but I know you're here somewhere! Which one of you is it already?"[/b][/color] he snapped. 

He was already mortified and didn't care if he dragged someone down with him or not. If nothing else it would make them bolt until he could sort this mess out.