She watched him with suspicion, still sniffing. She could smell desire, both hers and his, assuming that whatever he was, emotions smelled the same on him as on a human. It had taken her years to learn the nephilim smells. Smelling it had a Pavlovian effect on her, making her want him more, so she started breathing through her mouth, trying not to smell it.

"Joy," she admitted grudgingly, sitting down on the bed again. "Please tell me you at least know what magic is and you're not some random mortal." Mortals didn't usually look as tore-up as he did, but you never knew. Joy didn't see a door, which meant there might be a pool or a portal nearby, but she didn't see any of those, either. The only way to have gotten them in here was magic, which might have been fine because Joy could move around with magic easily enough, but it was easy enough to spell the place so she couldn't get them out. She kept the sheet awkwardly held to her chest. She didn't want him to see and recoil. In truth, only a couple of people had ever seen her scars. She didn't trust anyone to get that close.