Everything Sam said sounded like the sinner trying to justify his actions, and fit so poorly with Eliot's image of demons that it half convinced Eliot it was an elaborate lie until Sam said the one most unexpected thing. He wasn't a demon?

Eliot lifted his head a bit to get a better look at Sam. He didn't know what the difference was, but there was a difference. This was a man spread out there, still struggling to maintain his identity against the odds that Hell had stacked up against him. He was a victim and never stopped being one. Breaking Eliot was another form of torture for him.

In the light of all that, Eliot's gaze softened a little. He didn't intend to give in, but now he understood, even partially, what went on with Sam. "I thought you said there's no point in fightin' it, or was that meant only for me?"