The facade of distinguished elegance cracked as Lilith hissed quietly, remembering. Hell was home, but it was the kind you desperately sought to escape...and yet always longed for. "The understatement of the century, darling," she said softly. She wasn't going back.
Which reminded her that she had some questions for her baby brother.
She smiled back then, and it wasn't Cairo's smile. Did demons have romantic, even familial, feelings for each other? Not really. But Azazel, more than anyone bar Lucifer, had her respect. And that counted for a lot in their world. "Chaos sounds good," she purred. "Did you have anything in mind?" Her eyes flashed white. "Dessert, perhaps?"
Fenrir lay down at the side of her chair, and she thanked Azazel for the courtesy, pleased but surprised.
"Order what you like," she told him, opening her menu with manicured fingers. "I have...something of a tab here." She smirked again.