It crosses his mind, that for all his power and domain, the Lord of Lies might be somewhat insecure. There is not other explanation that would account for his belief that Elijah had managed to escape him once upon a time. He has always known where he is to end, knows who he belongs to, to which throne he prostrates to. Before anything, Elijah has always been cunning, and he knows who hold power. In the Inferno, he had never been the one to hold it, never attempted to in his desperation to clutch to who he had been, but despite not having power, he had always known who held it, who would wield it.
He had never doubted Beelzebub's might, never outwardly been anything but afraid of his lord and envious of his power, but he is well aware that his very existence as a cubi reveals his hand. He resisted the Inferno, and his hurry to avoid full damnation, he had drawn the disapproval of his master.
There is not a doubt on his mind that the peaceful existence he had carved for himself was gone.
The Temple of Aphrodite falls away, and they are back at the Count's castle. Ba'al gives him his warning, words etched into his skin, and the atmosphere shifts.
Chrysaor is back before him.
With the Lord of the Lies, he will never know.
"My liege has chosen to punish me for seeking freedom from the Inferno," he tells the banshee flatly, trying to pull back the raw fear running through him even as it shows on his tone, and then he hides his face on trembling hands and takes a shuddering breath. Fuck. He is spooked, he is playing right into Beelzebub's hands, but he needs to try and tell Chrysaor of Ba'al's promise before he falls into his impulses and kisses his lover. And if this is yet another illusion, if he is not even talking to Chrysaor right now? Well, he would rather delay the realization that he will never know the truth again. "And I believe if it is best for me to leave for the night."
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