"It's what they are," Tom insists, like a good Fremmanish human. "Demons. Shapeshifters. Same thing."

He sucks in a breath at the news that she consorts with demons. "You've met...?" he murmurs thickly, shaking his head.

Only that prompts him to take a step back, and then another. Tom inwardly seethes at giving ground, but he's found his role now.