The Angel had shown him the way, leading him to the edge of the world. There, he’d become complete. Kaena was only one half of him. The other was dead and buried, living only in the blood of his children and in the single memento hanging around his mother’s neck. He lived in Samael’s blood-red eyes, but Samael did not love his father as he loved his mother. The man deserved to die for daring to try and harm her.
There was no love lost between father and son. But Samael had travelled to his father’s home, finding recognition with the other half of his family. He’d taken Xochime home with him. “To where the sun sets,” he said, remembering the heat of the desert. He hadn’t lost a thing, and he’d never implied such, but he found something worth looking for at the bottom of the earth.