4. Chapter 4

#

If Lucifer was not so bloody useful, and the only person willing to work with her, Chloe would never put up with his shit.

“I don’t need a bodyguard,” she repeated for the fifth time enunciating her words slowly and clearly, in the vague hope it was just a communication problem rather than Lucifer being Lucifer.

“Darling,” Lucifer chided, “I have known many, many men like this Collector. He enjoys your suffering, thus, he will be watching somehow. And probably masturbating to the view,” Lucifer added so matter of fact that she had to do a double take. Yep, he had really just said that. Her mind quivered, threatening to crack before she firmly repressed the imagery.

Did Not Happen.

“Therefore, my dear,” Lucifer chirped, crossing his legs as daintily as you please, as if he hadn’t just creeped her the fuck out, “I am sleeping on this couch.”

He straightened, suddenly on point like a dog. “Unless,” he purred, “you’ll let me – “

“-Never,” she hissed vehemently, rebooting. Whenever Lucifer got that look in his eye – the full on come-hither bedroom eyes – fifty times a day, him saying something vastly inappropriate was sure to follow.

Chloe had learned to head him off before it got to the point where she wanted to die of utter mortification.

“It’ll help you sleep,” Lucifer wheedled with a grin. “Release all that tension…”

“No.” Chloe replied waspishly, beginning to feel insulted by his antics. Did he really think she would – whilst Trixie was – how could he – No. Chloe sighed.

No Lucifer didn’t think she would actually sleep with him right now. He was just trying to cheer her up in typical Lucifer fashion. Of course, if she said yes, he wouldn’t bat an eyelid, but he wasn’t being serious – so she let it go.

“Not in your wildest dreams,” she continued brusquely. Was it worth shoving him out the door? It was almost dawn as it was. She really should – give Lucifer an inch and he’d take a mile – but it was so much effort. She’d never known a grown man who could whine like Lucifer could. Shoving him out the door wouldn’t stop him from breaking back in anyway, no matter how satisfying giving him the boot would feel.

“Oh but Darling,” she cursed herself as she recognised the opening she’d given.

“In my dreams,” he rose from the couch, sauntering up to her, “You’re much more flexible.”

Morally or physically, she wondered idly, before becoming distracted with thoughts of the gym. In a normal week, she went at least twice. It didn’t feel right to do anything but work with Trixie missing, but she wasn’t allowed back into the station before noon anyway and –

“You ride me from dusk to dawn, those gorgeous thighs-“

There was a spin-cycle class at eleven wasn’t there? That could be just what she needed –

“I’d eat you out for hours, you’d be blind with ecstasy - you wouldn’t believe the things I can do with my tongue, but I’d devour you until you converted –‘

Going to the gym would mean she wouldn’t have time for breakfast, she’d be cutting her sleep time down to five hours as it was, but there was that lovely little place on the corner that did amazing espresso and pancakes that she could just devour. She could still make the station for half twelve or so – and not turning up at the earliest possible time that she was allowed might reassure everyone that she wasn’t insane -

“I’d worship your breasts, darling, a little nibble and you’d howl –‘

Mazikeen would be back with the sniffer dogs Lucifer had gotten his hands on somehow by then, so after she got kicked out again they could try the school, see if there was a trail –

Decided, Chloe turned back to Lucifer.

“You’re right,” she said firmly.

Lucifer looked startled. “I am? I mean of course I’m right. I knew you couldn’t resist forever,” he smirked, bedroom eyes at maximum power, and her brain – against her will – decided to play a montage of all the times she’d seen him naked on a constant feed.

“It does make sense for you to spend a few hours resting here,” Chloe continued, ignoring her traitorous brain. Yes, Lucifer was pretty. No, this wasn’t the time and it would never be the time. Lucifer was the quintessential bad boy. The original bad boy if he had anything to say about it. The smirk on his face said it all.

“I’ll fetch you a blanket and pillow and make up the couch for you. We’ll be able to make an early start if you’re already here.” Moreover, he’d probably make her breakfast if he were here. Golden lining and it’d save time.

Lucifer looked like she’d kicked his puppy.

“But, Detective.”

God but he could whinge. Chloe turned her back – if she ignored him, he’d stop crying for attention – to fetch a spare sheet and blankets.

#

Lucifer stared at the door. The closed bedroom door.

“Tease,” he accused the wooden panelling mournfully. That had not gone to plan.

It was almost like Chloe hadn’t even heard a word he was saying! His bedroom voice, frequently described to him as honeyed steel, sultry, alluring, irresistible, and fuck me now, had never failed him before.

It shouldn’t surprise him that Chloe was the exception, once again. The freak.

Sleep was an indulgence, and whilst five in the morning was about the time that he normally dropped off after he’d worn out his evening’s entertainment, he didn’t feel like sleeping right now. There was too much to think about.

In lieu of rest he spent the early hours poking through all of Chloe’s belongings, even sliding into the bedroom – she’d attempted to barricade the door, how sweet – to rummage through her drawers, occasionally replying to Mazikeen’s texts.

He wasn’t quite sure what he was looking for, an altar, a family photo with one parent conveniently spouting a tail, some pagan worship or other evidence of her inhumanity. He’d know it when he saw it.

The sex toys were truly disappointing– a bullet vibrator - how pedestrian. Only one kind of lube, poor woman, what had she been doing? Not even a set of handcuffs in the toy box and he knew she had access to those. Though it wasn’t surprising that Detective Douche was uninspiring in the bedroom. Chloe needed him, clearly. It was his civic duty to show her how to have fun properly.

Oh hello nurse, he thought, holding up a set of lingerie to the moonlight. That was more like it. It was new – price tag still attached. Better taste than the Detective usually showed, and it was red, so she must have bought it for him. He preened. He was affecting her even if she was giving him blue balls so badly that they needed to invent a new shade of blue.

He’d got her measurements right too. Maybe if he left these out with a nice pair of fuck-me heels, she’d get the hint?

“No security? Awesome. We’re the first here too. Get the camera set up!”

Lucifer turned, abandoning the bedroom to mosey towards the front door. He’d known someone would turn up. He knew what damned humans liked.

Two souls outside. Tainted but not yet condemned. So it wasn’t the miscreant he was looking for. Pity.

“Not there! She’ll shut the door in our face before it’s open. Aim for the angle between door and wall, you have a second to get our money shot.”

Reporters.

Still, waste not want not. He’d been getting bored anyway.

Throwing open the door with a smile, Lucifer stepped outside to play.

#

“Why is there a bra on that bush?” Chloe asked, dreading the answer, as she stomped her shoes on. “And is that a camera?”

Lucifer had cooked breakfast, but the barricade on her door was not in the same order she’d put it in last night. Her mood was therefore neutral. She didn’t see how he could have possibly done it, the chair crashing would have woken her up, but the lingerie she’d bought in her rebound phase didn’t end up lying on the foot of her bed by itself did it?

“Oh, that was Millie’s.”

“Millie,” Chloe repeated dully eyes fixed on the camera. She despised the entire plague of reporters. If anyone deserved Lucifer inflicted on them…

“Yes, she works for the Star, but I convinced her she and her partner had better things to do that wait to ambush you this morning.”

Chloe automatically filtered that through her Lucifer-Bullshit meter.

“Oh my god, did you have sex on my lawn?”

“Of course not Detective,” Lucifer said, as offended as a cat whose tail had been stepped on.

She sighed; she was being ridiculous even Lucifer –

“I had sex on the couch and then I gave her Detective Douche’s address.”

“I am going to shoot you.”

“Oh yes please.”

#

“Ms Decker! I’m glad to see you made it unscathed. The news got leaked to the press, I was about to send a squad car over to help.”

“Lucifer scared them off,” Chloe said mildly. “I was fine.”

Agent Johnson side-eyed Lucifer with caution. She approved. Lucifer was far too cheerful on five hours sleep. It was probably the -

Did. Not. Happen.

“Right, well we’d like to do a press conference. Agent Price has confirmed a psychological profile.”

Chloe was glad that he wasn’t treating her with kid gloves.

“He needs to see me suffer, right? That’s how he gets off?”

Johnson blinked. “Yes, well, that’s certainly the gist of it. The victims whose parents held a press conference always get the full seventy-two hours. Have you worked with a dedicated psych team before? They’re very good at closing cases.”

Chloe didn’t look at Lucifer. His records only went back five years. He didn’t need the attention - although how he’d diagnosed a man he’d never met so accurately she didn’t know. Maybe he’d been a psychiatrist six years ago? It might explain how he manipulated people so easily. Whatever. If she couldn’t work it out, she wasn’t going to give the FBI the chance either.

“Something like that. Where do you need me?”

#

The press conference was…bad.

She was hurt, and like a wounded animal, she wanted to hide, curl up and strike at anyone who came near her – but it was for Trixie. She could beg for Trixie, she could let Dan hold her on camera and pretend for Trixie. And she had.

She’d tried to cry too, but the tears wouldn’t come. She felt wrung out, fragile, like if she started she’d never stop and yet inside there was a howling ragegrieffirebloodhatepain that wouldn’t stop screaming.

Lucifer had seen it in her.

She’d barely tensed to tear a strip of Dan and his disappointed in you look or the so helpful media-relations-consultant whose name she’d already forgotten. She didn’t need a fucking tissue she needed a shot of whisky, a dull rusty spoon and the Collector’s balls sautéed in situ and stuffed down his bleeding gullet.

She needed Trixie in her arms, but she wasn’t there. She might never be there.

“Time for a break I think,” Lucifer murmured. “A bit of fresh air. We’ll just be outside.”

He’d whisked her outside the murmuring ranks of uniforms and into his car, speeding away at double the limits to Trixie’s school and neatly avoiding a post-conference discussion and Dan and the counsellor and the ranks of concerned strangers and another chat about strangers in Trixie’s life.

It was barely one, the playground was empty; Chloe had never been so glad to see Mazikeen in all her life.

“You call those Hellhounds?” Chloe snorted, eyeing the set of three absolutely adorable golden retrievers who as one bounded up to Lucifer to leave a hilarious amount of hair over his suit as they barked a welcome, licking his hands and jumping up demanding a fuss.

“You see only what you want to see,” Lucifer rolled his eyes, fastidiously brushing down his trousers even as he snuck a few stealthy ear-scratches for the dogs. The Adversary. Yeah right. “Any trouble?”

“No, sir,” Mazikeen reported – the happiest Chloe had ever seen her. “Lilith will report directly when she’s done.”

One day, Chloe would have to investigate Lucifer’s shadowy business. But not today.

“Trixie was waiting over there,” Chloe pointed out the grey pillar at the foot of the stairs. She’d read the report a dozen times but she hadn’t dared return to the scene. It was Trixie’s school, not a scene. Or it wasn’t supposed to be. It was wrong.

“Behind! Beside! Before!” Lucifer clapped once and the dog’s heads swung around to face him – and they all trotted over and sat at his feet in perfect unison.

Weird.

Were they bigger? Nope, just Lucifer’s normal, reality bending, normal, trick or something.

“Odd choice of names,” Chloe said.

“Not really,” Maze replied. “They’re hellhounds. It’s their job to hunt down the runners. Look behind you, look beside you, look before you.” It had an odd intonation when Mazikeen said it like that. Almost as if it were a nursery rhyme.

“Was that supposed to make sense?”

“Just watch,” Maze replied.

“Thank you for helping,” Chloe added as the dogs obediently circled the stone Trixie had last sat on – a green t-shirt that Chloe had pulled out of the laundry basket to help them get the scent.

“My pleasure,” Mazikeen appeared unnaturally cheerful. “I haven’t seen Lucifer this angry in decades. I can’t wait to see what he does to this sinner when we find him.”

Chloe resolved not to touch that one with a ten foot pole.

Behind, she thought it was, sat up and howled. The sound was chilling. They were dogs – but that howl felt wild, primal, more like a wolf than a dog. Beside and Before took up the howl which really only made it worse- and then they were hurtling along towards one end of the parking lot, sniffing at a bare patch of tarmac.

Trixie had gotten into a car though. Did the scent cut out there?

“They track souls,” Lucifer reappeared at her elbow, “They don’t rely on the messy human stuff. They’re scenting her spirit.”

Well that made perfect sense didn’t it? Chloe was about to let loose – they were wasting time – when the dogs, and she really felt she ought to call them hounds for some reason, howled once more – a short sharp call.

Like a hunting horn.

Then they were off. They had four legs but, even so, they were fast.

“I’m sorry it’s not a proper Hunt,” Lucifer said mournfully as they peeled off and sprinted down the road – unconstrained by leash or collar. “Bringing the rest of the Wild Hunt topside would have caused a bit too much of a fuss Upstairs. I can get away with a lot since Amenadiel broke Dad’s rules first – but not that. Prophecies, you understand.”

“They’ll get run over!” Chloe shouted over him as the hounds – cute and adorable if creepy - ran straight for the main road. “Lucifer! Stop them! Mazikeen! Do something!”

“They have but one Master,” Mazikeen told her, smiling warmly as if nothing was wrong. “They won’t heed orders from me.”

Chloe turned to Lucifer, hands on hips.

“They’ll be fine Detective,” Lucifer forestalled her, rolling his eyes and strolling after his wayward hounds. “They’re Hellhounds, not Chihuahuas. Come alone, my dear, we don’t want to lose them do we?”

#

Lamia exited the public library in the guise of a young female in the appropriate dress for this day and age.

Humans had always been so creative; the library may yet be their best invention. A place to share knowledge freely, it had taken the work of a moment on their computers – where a kind young man had helped her adapt to the new model – to find the information Lilith sought.

Their target was the child of Lucifer’s current lover and her mortal husband or so it was to be assumed. Their lord never took an interest in children – the ones that came to Hell were all strange, vile creatures.

Yet, this one, Lucifer would raise Hell for.

Thus, Lamia concluded easily - logic taking her from one point to the next in an orderly fashion - this child was unique.

Unique in Lucifer’s affections could only mean one thing.

Lilith was not going to like this. She wasn’t going to like it at all.

#

Chloe didn’t have the breath to argue. She kept in shape at the gym – but thank god, she’d skipped it this morning. She needed all her energy to keep pace with the hounds as they barrelled over people, roads, signs, buggies, stopping only to howl in apparent pleasure before running once more.

It was a bad day to be manning the desk at the station that was for sure.

But Lucifer had some crazy connections – for the hounds, lovely, beautiful, perfect creatures that they were – had stopped.

They were surrounding a police car. The police car, Chloe knew it instantly. This was the one Trixie had climbed into thinking that it was her dad.

“No blood,” Lucifer reported unhelpfully. With his hands cupped to the glass. “Your tracker thing has been ripped out though.”

“We need to call it in, get forensics,” Chloe said, pulling out her phone. This was a solid lead at last.

“Why?” Mazikeen asked. “They only stopped here, the hounds will take us to her directly.”

“Or they should,” Lucifer indicated the animals with a frown. All three were circling the car with nose to the ground, and if Chloe were a more suspicious person, she would say that they appeared to be searching in a grid like formation.

Beside whimpered, and turned to Lucifer, lying down and crawling on his belly to whine at his feet, nudging expensive leather with his nose.

“You’ve lost her?” Lucifer stated coldly.

The dogs looked ashamed.

“Impossible,” Mazikeen replied flatly. “Hellhounds don’t lose their prey.”

“They can,” Lucifer replied, sharing a meaningful look with Mazikeen that Chloe ignored as she dialled the station, “with a little intervention.” His gaze flickered skywards.