I offered him the bottle, but he pushed it away with a tattooed hand. “Nah man, I got demons to slay.”

He reached in his jacket and took out a cigarette. A lighter appeared in his hand like a magic trick and he lit up, a plume of smoke on the exhale.

“I thought you were slaying demons?” I asked.

He laughed - a rasping smoker’s laugh that caught in his throat. “Well, better the demon you know.”