He was getting better, slowly, he was getting more used to it, she loved the feel of him there, taking her blood, connecting them, pushing him closer to the ultimate goal. She remembered Azazel's stories of speaking to Lucifer himself, asking for a child, a special child, and here that child was, grown and leaning so easily against her, trusting her, relying on her. Needing her.
And all of a sudden he stopped, staying where he was but the pressure at her arm had lifted.
She kept up stroking his hair, unable to resist the smirk.
"See that wasn't so bad was it?" Maybe he'd even missed it, missed that rush it brought him, that power. "You feel good? Strong?"