“More,” Lucifer ordered.
I took another sip. Lucifer’s power tasted like a crisp early morning in winter, the sun filtering through the trees. It tasted like the feel of a summer rain on my skin, or the smoke from a great bonfire. It was salty like grief, sweet like longing, bitter like revenge, and refreshing like hope. It was overwhelming, confusing, empowering. I couldn’t make sense of it all.