"Only the very best for my flesh and blood," she purred, dipping her head to capture his lips again in a hungry kiss. It was mostly to get his attention, however, because immediately after she seized his jaw in a grip that seemed far to strong for such a diminutive form.
"You must heed my next words very clearly, Little Imp," her eyes bored into his, deeper than any human's eyes had a right to be, the red thread wound through her iris flaring, "For they are very, very important."
Once she was certain she had his attention, she softened her grip on his jaw and instead cradled it in both hands, brushing his cheeks with her thumbs.
"This pathetic little cesspit is where we will fight the final battle, Sterling," she so rarely used his name, it was almost jarring to hear herself say it, "Babylon is the site of Armageddon, and we are all of us soldiers - but even soldiers need commanders, do they not? Do as I've taught you, Sterling. Twist and manipulate and ply your guile, but leave the front lines to the demons. We will whittle away the foundations of goodness in this town until there is naught left but a brittle, spongy mass that will collapse with only the slightest amount of pressure."
Izual kissed his forehead, her lips hot, almost burning.
"And you will be a Prince in Hell for your contributions," she purred at him, "I know it in my bones."