"Barely grow a beard, barely know how to treat a lady, and you can barely keep your composure... Dion?" She frowned. He left her long ago. "I found him in this park. It's always been mine, I've just been preoccupied with stupid human tricks."
Son of the devil. Somehow it seemed cliche. "Can't say I'm exactly impressed, Damien. The Christian Gods -Satan included- are out of touch. About two thousand years out of touch.... It's all a bunch of faith in a bunch of men I don't exactly follow." She said, her eyes narrowing. By then, he was beginning to show the signs of becoming intoxicated by her odor. She smiled and hung her arms of the boy. "I don't go after little boys."
The vines were by now in place, encircling the ground around his feet and hanging in the air ready to grasp his limbs. "And I wouldn't want to kill you. What would your daddy think? Killed by the kiss of his very first real woman?"