Erskine grabbed one of the glasses and drank deeply from it before he answered, giving himself both the time to think, and something to focus on other than the day's events. Milk might not have been alcoholic, but there was something soothing about it nonetheless. The glass was half-gone by the time he lowered it again, but the glass stayed in Erskine's hand, tipped backwards and forwards absentmindedly as he thought.

"We're here to warn you," he started off, "that, uh..." and faltered. Did they ever decide if it would actually take Lucifer a few months, like Skulduggery said? Or if it could potentially take him a lot shorter? No, they probably didn't decide on much of anything, other than Skulduggery being an idiot. "That Lucifer's apparently going to be in this dimension pretty soon."

He didn't want to end it there. He didn't want another uncomfortable silence. Erskine didn't want to grow any angrier than he already was. "Also to reunite you with Dexter, and to get away from the Sanctuary for a bit. You know, he's right. You should wear brighter clothes more often. They suit you."