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In an act of desperation, the Devil banged his empty flask against the jail cell bars.

"How much longer must you insist on keeping me locked in here?" Lucifer asked in the most sardonic tone. He was one step away from carving an escape tunnel with a spoon or taking up the harmonica. Twelve hours in the clink could change a man, and Lucifer had no intention of sticking around to find out which criminal in the cellblock wanted him as their bitch. "Am I going to need a lawyer? Because I would like to appoint my own counsel, not one of these city-assigned buffoons, thank you."

Of course, there was no answer to his question. He was forced to remain in silence as the only officer on duty - a rotund, sleepy oaf of a man - bumbled out of the holding area, most likely to refresh his coffee and donuts. His loss, Lucifer thought bitterly as he checked his dying phone for any lawyer update from Mazikeen. I was planning on bringing in the randy dandy rave donuts.

Part of Lucifer knew that the Detective had only thrown him in here to teach him some kind of lesson. Part of Lucifer knew that the Detective couldn't possibly think him capable of being in league with such a gruesome set of murders. But the other part, the more human part that had grown impossibly hard to ignore due to his extended vacation topside, worried that there was no coming back from this. The things between him and Chloe would never be the same.

She'd accused him of murder before, but never like this. She hadn't known him then. Lucifer was a stranger and a dangerous one at that with a few enemies up his sleeve and a lot more secrets than he had now thanks to Dr Linda and her emphasis on sharing one's fears and vulnerabilities. Fears and vulnerabilities that now came back to bite him in the ass, an ass that was cooling on a dirty stone bench next to a drunken, dozing bum.

Oh how far the mighty have fallen.

Lucifer.

Lucifer jumped in his seat, nearly kicking the drunkard as he whipped his head around to find the source of the voice, only to realize it was in his head. It had been such a long time since someone had prayed to him - or, at least since he started tuning out the Satanists - he nearly forgot what it felt like. It was...nice. Filled him with a sense of purpose. Even nicer was that he recognized the silky, accented alto: Miss Lightwood.

I really hope you hear this, because I need you. I'm -

That was it. No more prayer.

Perhaps Miss Lightwood had second thoughts. Perhaps her problem was an easy one like needing a foot massage or loosening a jar of pickles so she could put them on her peanut butter sandwich (according to Daniel, that was popular when the Detective was carrying her spawn). Still, her tone raised cause for concern. He should call Maze, have her check up on the Nephilim just in case.

Then, just as Mazikeen's name lit up the screen, his phone decided to die for good.

To add insult to injury, Raziel decided now was a good time to join him in his cozy, piss-scented cell.

"Ahhhh, there he is." Lucifer clapped his hands together in a slow applause. "Finally turn your phone off mute? Or have you come to gloat?"

"You know I have no interest in worldly possessions, Lucifer."

"Yes, yes, I am very aware of how pious and above us all you are, dear brother."

Raziel either did not understand sarcasm, or simply thought himself above it. Either way, he definitely was not catching the drift that Lucifer was mocking him, the feathers on his glorious, golden wings ruffling with pride at the acknowledgement that yes, he was better than everyone else.

"I received your prayers."

"Would have been more a help if you received them when I asked." A whole twelve hours ago, Lucifer did not say out loud. "Thanks to your immaculate timing, I've been rotting away in this cell for a mess you created."

"My understanding is that the demon, Lilith, is responsible for all this carnage. Is the supervision of her imprisonment in Hell not your direct responsibility, older brother?"

"Of course, everything is Lucifer's fault as usual." Honestly, Lucifer didn't know why he bothered calling this twat. He leaned forward and braced his hands on his knees, hoping that would keep him from reaching out and strangling his brother. "I am aware I may have dropped the ball on the Lilith situation, but will you really take no responsibility in looking after your own followers? The only reason I am sitting in here is because the Detective thinks that you are the one murdering people, and I can't keep her off your trail if I'm stuck rotting away in a cell!"

"You have the abilities Father gave you. Why not leave this cell yourself? Why not make this Detective comply to your will?"

"Unlike you, I rather enjoy worldly possessions, and I have no intention of leaving this life behind for any reason, least of all to protect a brother who can barely stand to be in the same room as me."

"Desire has always made a fool of you, Lucifer," Raziel admonished, though his monotone sounded no more patronizing and holier than thou than it always did.

The only difference now was that Raziel was right, and it stung much worse than Lucifer expected. Desire had made a fool of Lucifer. His devotion to the Detective kept him from doing things the easy way. How much further was he willing to go for a woman who, after so many years of partnership, didn't even seem to trust him?

"Yes, well, if all you've come here to do is tell me off, then congratulations. You've wasted my time, you can go now."

"I never said I was not willing to help."

"Oh?" Lucifer perked up considerably, his bleak mood lightening. "You really should have led with that."

"Lilith does not act alone," Raziel said, surprising Lucifer. There was another nasty bugger out there doing the evil queen's bidding? "She has taken possession of a Nephilim she believes to have murdered her son: Jace Herondale. She intends to torture Jace by having him slay his own kind, those he loves and cherishes, before using him as a sacrifice to who feed the resurrected body of her son, Jonathan."

"That's cruel, even for Lilith." Practically biblical, Lucifer thought. Right down to the Old Testament when dear old Dad and all his angels and demons were more worried about taking eyes for eyes instead dishing out all-patient love.

"Indeed." He and Raziel never agreed on anything; that's how Lucifer knew things were serious. "Jonathan's presence in this world will surely bring about its destruction. Lilith must be stopped before she can complete the resurrection. Which is why I need you, older brother, to find Jace Herondale and end his trail of carnage."

"I think all that time in the clouds has made you forget: I'm the one who grants favors, not the other way around," Lucifer reminded, not liking having his toes stepped on by an amateur. "Besides, this arrangement doesn't help my situation, now does it?"

"If you help me in my time of need, then I will help you in yours."

"What, you'll walk your perfectly pristine posterior up to the front desk and turn yourself in for murder?" Lucifer asked, sarcasm on full blast. "Because that's about the only thing that will get me off the hook."

"Perhaps," Raziel said, and did he dare to look...amused? "As you are well aware, we angels work in mysterious ways."

"I can show you where you can shove your mysterious ways - "

"Will you accept my offer, or not?"

"I will accept as soon as you get me out of this cell."

Raziel cocked his smug, over-inflated head. The lights flickered, and he was gone. The little bastard!

"Lucifer Morningstar!" The officer called as he ambled his donut-sated body towards the cell door, keys jangling on his belt. "Someone's posted your bail."

Was he having a stroke? It almost sounded like the great oaf had said his bail had been posted.

"Seriously? Someone paid two million dollars to get me out of this hellhole?"

The officer grunted as he unlocked the cell door, metal shrieking as it swung open. Lucifer stepped out from the confines of the cell and took a deep breath. He had never smelled anything sweeter than stale donuts and inmate sweat. From now on, that was the smell of freedom.

"What can I say?" the officer sighed as he handed back Lucifer his wallet and his car keys. "It's a freaking miracle."

Blood dripped from Izzy's arm through the clear coil of the tubing attached to the needle held by one rather sadistic nurse.

Usually, the sight of blood did not make Izzy squeamish. She was a Shadowhunter; she did not cower or faint at the sight of something as common as blood. However, this was the fourth vial of blood Aldertree had taken from her today. Her head spun and the lights above started to blur together. Unconsciousness would be upon her soon.

At least in sleep, she could hold on to some kind of sanity.

Time here moved differently. There were no windows to see the passing of day or night. There were no clocks on the walls. No one wore watches or spoke of time at all. It was as if Aldertree had the staff under his spell, trained to follow his litany of strange, isolating rules.

No one spoke to her unless it was a simple command: turn her head one way or another, raise an arm, move to another exam table, or do other menial, terrible tasks. Food was given through a slot in the wall. No one was there to hold her hand through all the tests, the scans, the pokes, and prods. No one came in without approval. No one left anything personal behind. Izzy had never seen any of these Shadowhunters before, and she never would again.

Here, in this lab, she was truly alone.

"That will be enough," Aldertree said safe from his perch at his desk. He strode forward and relieved the nurse who pulled her hands out of the gloves built into the glass walls of Izzy's cage. This entire place, Aldertree had told her with pride, was built to withstand any and all demonic horrors.

It would keep her safe, he said.

Safe for who, she wondered.

"You are all dismissed," Aldertree announced to his staff, watching them all collect their things. "I need to have a chat with our patient."

It was impressive how quickly everyone filed out, not a sound out of a single one of them as they blindly followed Aldertree's instructions. Good Shadowhunters didn't ask questions of their superiors. Good Shadowhunters follow orders. Maybe if Izzy had been better at following orders, she wouldn't have ended up in this situation.

When Izzy and Aldertree were alone, he dropped his commanding facade.

"Your first set of bloodwork showed some interesting results. I'll have to run duplicates on the samples we just collected to be sure, but your estrogen and progesterone levels are abnormal, and there is a startling amount of hCG." Aldertree took a step forward, trying and failing at feigning nonchalance. "You're pregnant."

Relief hit Izzy in a dizzying wave. She clutched her stomach. Thank the Angel, her baby was safe. She had been worrying non-stop since Aldertree injected the Heavenly Fire into her neck, afraid that it had harmed the baby. But her hormones said she was still pregnant. There was still hope for them yet.

After the relief faded, anger took its place. Anger that Aldertree dared invade her privacy and ruin what little protection she could offer her child. Anger that amplified as Aldertree watched her, tracked her hand as it touched her stomach, tracing over the curves her white prison jumpsuit covered up.

"You don't seem too surprised."

"Fuck you."

"Now, now Miss Lightwood. No need to be uncivil." Aldertree took a step back from the glass and held his hands behind his back, that smug grin curling up his lips. "My first thought was that the pregnancy was demonic. It would explain your absence from the Institute and your reaction to the portal. But then I remembered that demons and Shadowhunters are incompatible. Biologically, pregnancy could not be rendered viable."

Izzy remained silent, and Aldertree cocked his head, studying her.

"This doesn't seem to surprise you, either."

"You're talking in circles."

"And you are really going to make me say it, aren't you?" Izzy swallowed thickly, pulse jumping as Aldertree honed in far too close to the truth. "Just over four months ago, you went on a standard overnight mission to Los Angeles. After neutralizing the threat, you and your two teammates were instructed to check in with the local Institute and complete a debrief. However, the record shows that you did not complete this debrief until the morning after, just before you portal back to New York. Scouts in the area claim to have seen Jace Herondale, Clary Fairchild, and yourself enter a nightclub named Lux, the very same nightclub owned by the city's resident fallen angel: Lucifer Morningstar. Jace and Clary left at an acceptable time, while you remained behind. No one saw you exit the entire night. Then you mysteriously leave the Institute without warning and have your brother fabricate a false mission status claiming you're in Shanghai. Now here you are, now four months pregnant and instilled with the most severe case of angelic resistance I have ever seen, worse than any Downworlder or Greater Demon."

Izzy hadn't breathed throughout the entire monologue. Her heart had stopped beating sometime around the word "debrief". Aldertree looked entirely too pleased with himself as if Izzy's reaction was everything he had hoped for.

"I like to think of myself as a smart man. I can put the pieces of this puzzle together." Aldertree reached out and touched the glass. If he had been able to touch her, the gesture he made suggested he would run his hand down the loose curls framing her face. "Isabelle Lightwood...a beauty so rare and powerful it tempted the Devil himself."

Disgusting. And to think she ever found this man attractive.

"What do you want with me?" she demanded, pushing the focus back to him so she didn't have to deal with his unsettling looks.

"I wanted to cure you." At Izzy's scoff, he tutted. "I may not seem like the most altruistic man, but demonic conditions - diseases- they fascinate me. I have dedicated my entire career to curing this world of its demonic affliction."

"But I don't have a disease."

"No, but pregnancy is the textbook definition of parasitism." Izzy felt her blood run cold. This man saw her baby as a parasite. "Think about it. The thing that's growing in your womb will leech all your vitamins, and nutrients, and steal the strength right out of your bones, your teeth, and your muscle. It will weaken your heart and compress your internal organs to make room for its growth. And for what? If this was a Shadowhunter child, we could justify the means, and celebrate in a new generation of warriors. But this...this is something else entirely. What you're growing inside you, Miss Lightwood may very well be the end of us all. In the wrong hands...who knows what kind of damage it would wreak on the world."

A chill ran down Izzy's spine as she realized what he was actually saying.

"And whose hands are the right hands?"

"The Clave's." Mine, went unspoken, but Izzy didn't need to hear him say it. She could see it in the manic gleam in his eye, the twisted curve of his lips. "I would say yours, but you have proven yourself to be a dangerous liability. To be completely honest, I'm not even sure you'd survive the birth. And if you did, you'd likely be sentenced to serve time in the Gard for the murder of the vampire, Heidi."

This man is going to kill me, Izzy realized with startling clarity. She had entertained the idea, saw it was a possibility, but now she knew with certainty: if she stayed here, she would die.

Aldertree would kill her and then use her baby to power his sick, unethical experiments. The Clave would use her baby as a weapon, whether that be to destroy their enemies or cow the Downworld into submission. She already knew this child would be powerful; she could feel it simmering in her veins. Under the wrong influence, Aldertree was right...this child could wreak havoc on the world.

"Lucifer would never let that happen."

She had to believe that Lucifer would save them. She tried praying to him again, but it didn't feel right. She felt cut off, her one chance at communication wasted along with his blessing in the lobby of Magnus' complex. But even if she couldn't reach Lucifer, even if she did meet her end in this tiny, translucent cell, she hoped Lucifer had enough paternal instinct to realize that his child needed him.

"We have been dealing with Lucifer Morningstar for years. You knew him for what? One night?" Aldertree sneered. He looked at Izzy with something like contempt, and pity. Like he'd already won. "He's a far simpler being than you give him credit for. A creature that can be bribed and bought with a few shiny things and the promise of a good time. And this is who you would choose to raise your child over your own family?"

For a brief moment, Izzy wanted Lucifer to burst in, save them, and burn Alicante down to the ground. This city that bred men like Aldertree was never her home. These glittering buildings full of conscienceless soldiers and bigoted killers who turned their backs on her as she was drug through their halls were never her families. This baby was her family. Alec and Magnus and their apartment, Jace and Clary, Simon - that was her family.

Everything else could burn in Hell.