There was a certain likeness to all the demons of Hell, that they gravitated toward where they saw power, an urge conditioned into them by their time as humans on the rack and the years it took to make them demons. To find power was to avoid pain.
Alastair still found it laughable Ruby had decided this savior of her agonies would be Sam Winchester. The most the boy would ever do would be to run amuk on earth where he had the power to master weaker humans and demons, but than, that was what Alastair was counting on in his long term plans. The pits leaving had just made those plans so much easier.
"Change everything?" he mocked, shaking his head slowly. "A drunken layabout who runs away from the special abilities granted by a demon who ranks below me, then couldn't cope when they returned? Of all the players in all the worlds, you choose that one, the demon blooded boy who will never amount to anything. Your devotion to something so destined to fail is pathetic, Ruby."
Her focus on Sam was admirable, but it was helping him, not derailing him. The younger Winchester was already in a drunken decline, as he had been said to do after Dean's death. It would be time to push him further soon, which meant he would have Dean back in his rightful place quickly in order to send Sam Winchester spiraling over the edge.
The knife was an inch shy of making a line as long as the first when suddenly Alastair moved it and sliced into her leg, deeper than the first two cuts, enough to be more pain than the first two cuts. Even if she had suffered this in Hell, it didn't change that this move had never failed him.
"Now, let's get to business," he murmured as the wound opened, digging deeper into her mind, no care for the brutal force of his mental strength that the meatsuit and Ruby would be subjected to in the mindplunge.