My legs buckled and nearly went out from beneath me as the essence of the blood hit home. The air cooled in my lungs and I held my breath, my heart thumping a cannonade. I reached out and scooped the drop from Hasstor’s palm and cradled it in trembling hands. It wasn’t Lucifer’s blood.

It was my mother’s.

“How-“ I started, but the words clung to my tongue.

“These are dark times. Lucifer knew you might question a messenger bearing even his essence, but he had no doubt you would heed the word of one who bore that of your dam.” I felt the weight of his eyes on me, though I couldn’t tear mine from the tiny drop of my mother’s blood. It was the closest to her I’d been since I laid her to rest outside her ancestral village. “Is this true?” he continued.

I nodded.

“Good, for I have little time before my presence is noted. The conflagration in your Heaven was the perfect cover for my arrival. Despite my power being depleted by the long journey, those more mystically adept will soon see beyond my weakened veil now that the conflict is over and their attention is not drawn elsewhere.”

Only half paying attention, I licked the blood from my palm. Warmth flooded my mouth, my tongue going numb as the essence of my mother’s spirit filled me. It was the tiniest of sparks, but it filled my head with memories that had been dormant for centuries. I could hear her soft voice and smell the subtle waft of the flowers she used to scent her bath. As morbid as it sounded, I wished I had more of her blood so I could hold onto her longer. I missed my mother. She was the only person in my life who truly cared about me without qualification. She loved me because I was her son. That was enough for her. It was everything to me.

Hasstor grunted, ruining my reverie, and drew my attention to yet another of his clawed hands he held out.