At Rhainn's question about others, John cast a glance around the bar. He really was taking assessment of the place for just such people. Several people had left and others had shown up since the fight. It took some effort, shifting the focus of his vision to see the other world and not just the physical one. But he saw no one who might pose a threat in a demonic sense. There were a pair of gentlemen taking up John's previous table in the corner, looking like both had recently stepped out of a construction site. They were both human, but they were far from normal. Nothing of concern to him unless they tried something.
John turned back to order his own drink before answering Rhainn. A jack and coke for him. As he said it, the bar tender gave him a strange look. Before John adjusted the things he, so he only saw the physical and nothing more, he caught a glimpse of the bartender's wings--an impressive span of white and gray feathers. There was an exchange there, completely unheard by anyone else in the bar. The bartender was concerned too many people would have seen, and that the demon would come back. John just shook his head with a shrug. If it happened, it would get dealt with.
"Nope." John said to Rhainn at last. "The club up the street's more their style." Realizing at last that he was still gripping the small medallions, he pushed them back into his pocket. Patting his jacket, he searched for his cigarettes, not certain which pocket he had put them in, or if he had put them down somewhere.
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