"Good. But first, dinner," Samael said, eyes sparking hungrily. He whistled a hymn off-key, gliding off the coffin and out into the rain. I heaved a sigh, not wishing to reenter the downpour, but followed anyways.
"You don't even need to eat," I muttered, running to keep pace with him. His feet didn't even touch the ground under his dripping robe, and the only reason he wasn't swirling across the ground like a phantom, detached and unconfined by gravity, was for my comfort. I got freaked out by his inhumanity sometimes, a fact he was sensitive about.
He looked over his shoulder, flame-blue eyes dancing, and flashed a trickster grin. "Need is so very different from want, worm. Want is even more powerful."
"But you can need something you want, or want something you need," I argued, catching up with Samael. "Sometimes there's no distinction."
