Thank goodness she could handle things now for a few moments.  Meanwhile, Samuel would be stuck on the ground for a few moments, taking his time in focusing on the wounds he had and what he could do to heal them.  If he were at home, he'd be able to heal them much faster.  As it was...he'd have to tap into that dark power that existed just beyond his usual control.  The source of his dark powers, the patron of his magic, the foul demon prince that granted him his strength.  "Belial," Samuel whispered softly, more to himself than anything else.<br/><br/>Of course, given the circumstances, and what had just happened, he was nigh certain that Belial would care not for his failure.  So he shut his eyes and waited, allowing the dark master to judge him as worthy or not.  Dark energies poured into him from the other world where the master lived, pumping him full of vile energy that rebuilt the wounds.  Needless to say upon the completion of the healing, however, the dark master had ensured a certain need would have to be fulfilled in short order.<br/><br/>Samuel's cock ached from the desire to find itself a place to be buried.  A hand came up to rest upon his lips, wiping away the last remnants of blood as his head turned to see Lasciel.  Lust and hunger ripped through him, burned through their bond until she'd be able to feel it approaching like a tidal wave.  Belial was one of the crown princes of Hell, and patron of those who gave in to darker passions.  Samuel stood easily, and began to approach her.  Damn the danger, damn the potential for harm, but he needed to invoke a rite in Belial's name, and what better than a decadent fuck in the midst of a bloody wind.