1. Chapter 1

The phone rang, loud and shrill, gloatingly cutting through the breathy moans filling the room.

“Are you guna’ get that?” The blonde man murmured hoarsely, pulling off to take a few quick breaths, gazing up at the Devil with adoring eyes.

“Did I say stop?” Lucifer replied with a roguish grin, one hand going for the phone even as the other twisted into the lad’s – what was his name again – hair for a better grip to thrust with. My oh my but this one could really swallow.

It’s one of the best blowjobs he’s ever had – and that’s saying a lot – so Lucifer knows immediately that only the Detective could have the poor taste to disturb him right now.

“Detective,” he purred without even looking at the screen, head thrown back in bliss. “What could I possibly do for you at this hour?”

It’s so late it’s early. Dawn was on the horizon, and Lucifer had partied hard all day and all night. If the Detective were calling for pleasure… he’d be all over it. But he knew better now than to hope for anything so diverting.

“Lucifer? Sorry to wake you –

“-You didn’t.”

“Jesus do you ever sleep?”

“Wrong name, and of course I do. Sloth is one of my favourites. But as it happens, Detective, I’m rather busy right now – mmm, just like that – so,”

“Oh my god are you actually having sex right now? I can not believe you. I’m hanging up - ”

“Just oral, darling. Unless you’d like to tell me what you’re wearing?”

“Oh you are so disgusting.”

“Was there a reason for this call, Detective? Not that I mind a little exhibitionism, but – “

His detective sighs, and Lucifer frowns. There are many voices in the background, male, raised and agitated.

“What’s wrong?”*

*

“I’m on my way.”

Four words, ones Maze had even heard Lucifer say before. And yet…

She knew this time was different – right down to the depths of her shadowed soul. Lucifer had his back to her, but there was a feeling to the air that had the hairs on the back of her neck petrified upright.

Her Lord had awoken.

Quickly she hustled his dazed partner into his clothes and out of the door before turning back to Lucifer.

He wasn’t even pretending at humanity now. His eyes were blazing red, reflecting the realm he ruled uncontested.

And to think, Maze had disliked the mortal woman. If she’d known that the mortal could provoke this sort of reaction, she’d have kicked Lucifer out of Hell herself.

“Orders?” she asked as easily as she had a thousands times before. Efficiency, thy name is Mazikeen. She didn’t need to know what was wrong or ask if her Lord and Master were all right. Such mortal concerns were beneath them.

The Devil would command; his demon obey.

“The spawn has been kidnapped,” Lucifer spoke softly, gracefully tucking his phone away and smoothing the lines of his jacket as if the room hadn’t started shaking under the weight of his Wrath and his eyes – windows to the soul, you know – were not as red as Hell’s endless fires.

“Rescue?” Maze asked. Her master preferred the personal touch when it came to Punishment, but the question had to be asked anyway.

“Quite,” Lucifer murmured.

Mazikeen frowned, feeling a tiny flicker of doubt. Lucifer was acting odd again. Normally he’d have already been out the door; Crushing this challenge to his authority in an iron fist. Instead, he … lingered. Playing with the coin.

Flick. Flick. Flick.

Was he having a human moment, Mazikeen wondered in bewilderment? What in Hell was she supposed to do? This wasn’t normal. She didn’t have millions of years of experience to tell her what to do here.

“Mazikeen,” he eventually commanded, “I’ll be needing that feather you kept.”

She froze.

There was no need to ask what feather, my Lord?

He obviously knew. He had a nasty habit of always knowing but then again he had Created her. But if he was asking for it back… Mazikeen shivered in delight.

“Yes, my Lord,” she knelt, a quick and familiar deference, before rising and taking three steps back, turning to fetch it.

This was going to be so much fun.

#

“How can you not know?” Chloe asked; teeth clenched with the last remnants of her patience. “My daughter is missing.”

The oh so helpful FBI Agent gave her a bland, professional smile that was somehow supposed to convey reassurance. It didn’t. it just made Chloe want to claw it off.

“We’re doing all we can. You know how this works detective.”

So now she was detective was she? What happened to ‘Mrs Espinoza, oh sorry, ma’am’. Was Ms. Decker no longer patronising enough for Agent bloody Johnson?

“I know how undermanned you are,” Chloe tried a different tact. “The media presence alone…”

“You’re emotionally compromised.” Johnson said flatly. “You’d be a hindrance, not a help. Also do I have to remind you again, detective, that this is a federal investigation.”

“You’re using local manpower. I’m volunteering.”

“Trust in your colleagues then.”

The audacity of that statement silenced Chloe. Was he joking? Or did he know about the Palmetto Street fiasco? Trust in her colleagues who flat out hated her most of the time? Her colleagues who wouldn’t take her word on what she’d seen? The same colleagues who still hid a dirty cop from her?

“Chloe,” Dan interrupted, giving Agent Johnson time to vanish and wrapping his arm around her waist to guide her away.

She knew he was trying to be comforting. It didn’t feel comforting. It felt possessive and quite frankly she’d had enough.

“Not here, OK, come on, let’s go and get some fresh air.”

“I don’t need managing, Dan,” she hissed, infuriated. “Why did you let him escape? I nearly had him.”

“Don’t make a scene,” Dan replied firmly.

Those four words were all it took for Chloe to remember all the reasons they’d separated in the first place.

“If you hadn’t been late,” she whispered heatedly, forcing down the madly twisting whirlwind of emotion down.

“I was working a case,” Dan defended.

Chloe gave him a look of such utter disgust that he fell silent and looked away, ashamed. As he should be.

Working a case? Like she didn’t manage to work full time, look after Trixie every single day and do all the housework. Like his work was more important than their child. God, why had she thought he’d changed? That he even tried to defend himself, when a monster of a man had kidnapped their daughter, could be doing anything to her - it was too much to bear.

Was it really, honest to god, too much to expect a little support?

“Don’t touch me Dan,” Chloe said, shrugging his arm off and suddenly feeling every iota of exhaustion built up over the past couple of hours.

Dan looked stunned.

“Chloe… why are you… look, this isn’t my fault!”

He spoke far too loudly. Who was making a scene now? She thought vengefully as their colleagues’ heads popped up over the cheap dividers.

Cops loved gossip.

Chloe forced a smile; it felt stretched too tight over her skin.

Arguing with Dan would only give her so-called colleagues more ammunition against her.

She was a woman. Worse, everyone had already seen her topless. She had to work twice as hard to be considered half as good and she wasn’t allowed to have a bad day. Not even today. No doubt if it was Dan raging about his missing daughter, everyone would be reacting very, very differently.

“Detective?”

“Oh thank God,” she greeted, as Lucifer walked into the bullpen.

“Decidedly not,” he returned with a charming grin, taking in the situation with a glance.

“You called him?” Dan’s outrage was palpable behind her.

“Why, of course she did, Detective Douche, who else could she possibly rely on in a situation like this?” Lucifer drew her into a hug, and Chloe went. She knew what he was likely to say but she just didn’t care.

Lucifer came to support her, whilst her separated-husband tried to shift the blame.

“Certainly not you,” Lucifer continued smoothly. Chloe didn’t need to look to know what the expression on Dan’s face was.

“I, I, get off of her!”

“It’s a hug, Douche. This is called emotional support I believe. I’ve been reading.”

Lucifer’s chest rumbled with every word and Chloe was feeling calmer by the second. Lucifer just had that kind of presence to him. He was annoying and inexplicable and probably some sort of mild-sociopath but he was here. And he smelled good. Not that she’d ever tell him that, but his cologne was amazing. Mind you, he probably paid for that in the thousands.

“That’s my wife.”

Again with the possessiveness. Honestly. She wasn’t sure if was the ‘my’ or ‘wife’ that bothered her the most, although Dan definitely thought of the two as the same right now.

“Separated.” Lucifer purred, sounded absolutely delighted. “And after this divorced, I don’t doubt.” The words just rolled off his tongue like sin.

“Enough,” Chloe said, stepping back, ready to face the world again. “Dan, just go. Haven’t you done enough? Lucifer, a word please.”

Normally, she found Lucifer’s side business of being some sort of modern godfather highly unethical. But it was damned useful, and the cynic in her thought that at least Lucifer was being honest about what the rest of the world tried to do in secret.

Still, somebody with a shady past would owe Lucifer a Favour.

He’d call them in for her.

That probably meant she owed him a few Favours by now too. The thought made her scowl. Still if it saved her daughter he could have anything he wanted- not that she thought he’d really blackmail her into anything.

Well, probably not, anyway.

Oh, what did it matter?

TrixieTrixieTrixieTrixieTrixie.

#

“Have you been keeping up with the news?” Chloe asked, wondering how to segue into the topic as she casually checked the door for any eavesdroppers. Pulling Lucifer into a small conference room probably hadn’t done the gossip much good but she was too tired to care for their prejudice now.

“What news exactly?” Lucifer rolled his eyes, “You humans are constantly spouting the latest disasters. Honestly, it’s like you delight in reporting the suffering of others.”

Chloe took a breath. Lucifer’s Luciferness was just part of the package. This just really wasn’t the time.

“There’s a …man,” the word just wasn’t strong enough. “He’s kidnapping the children of famous people, writers, bloggers, public speakers, actors.” Her breath hitched slightly. “And then he’s selling them, online. An auction for…paedophiles.” She spat the word out. It was the first time she’d managed to say it aloud ever since Trixie had been taken. She’d been thinking it, constantly, but saying it aloud made it far too real.

Her daughter was with him right now. How scared she must be how -

“He sends a secure link to the parents in an email. He makes them watch the auction and then he just vanishes to a new state and starts again.” Chloe took a deep breath. Lucifer would help. He always helped. He was her ace in the hole since the FBI were shutting her out.

“This creature has the spawn?”

Lucifer’s tone was… odd. Chloe risked a look into his eyes.

They looked red.

A trick of the light.

She couldn’t speak; she nodded once instead, crossing her arms over her chest defensively.

“The Feds are here. It’s a federal crime. They won’t let me work the case, but they say Trixie has seventy two hours from capture to auction. It’s been twelve.”

“Alright.”

“Lucifer, I can’t-“

“I know.”

“Please,” she begged, feeling tears well, “I need, I can’t, can you-, there must be something-“

“Chloe.”

It was the first time that Lucifer had said her name. The surprise was enough to break her out of her panic and managed to look into her eyes. They didn’t look red anymore – how could they be, it was just a trick anyway – they looked kind. Full of compassion and empathy. She had to look away his sincerity was too much.

Maybe he really had been an angel, once.

The stress was getting to her.

“My word is my bond,” Lucifer reminded her, “And I give you my word, dearest detective, that I will return your little human to you alive.”

It was stupid to believe him. So so, stupid. What value did a promise have anyway? But she’d been around long enough to know that reputation mattered to Lucifer. She guess it kind of had to, when your business was favours. He hadn’t promised to return Trixie safe or unharmed – and she wished he had if only to make her believe the same – he’d promised to return her alive. That was practical. Achievable.

Huh. Apparently, she really did believe him then, which meant…

“Thank you.”

She braced herself to face the world again. “Where do we start?”