You summoned a devil from hell not an angel, my dear. [ His smile turns saccharine. ]

My "whatever shape"? You wound me so, my Lady. [ And he's very tempted to start slipping into his true form now, the lightbulb in the confessional flickering intermittently. ]

It's an instinctual response you see—humans, creatures, monsters—they all want to survive in the end. Perhaps you'll be the first though, my previous master was such a disappointment.