Jason says nothing at all in answer. A short nod is all he feels capable of.

He slumps back in his chair the instant Raziel is off the terrace. Etrigan's voice subsides-- mercifully-- with one last growl before the demon slinks off into the metaphorical shadows.

His head hurts. He's sweaty from the various efforts. He's tired.

He signals the waiter for water, and puts the cards grimly back in their box.