6. Chapter 6

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“So,” Conner ventured after Lucifer had finished his cup of tea. “Do I sign a contract in blood or something?”

Lucifer sighed. “You don’t have any blood, let alone hands. How do you expect to sign anything?”

Conner blinked, and cautiously glanced down at himself. Yep, still got a body.

“I don’t?”

“You are in Hell,” Lucifer leaned forward across the table speaking slowly. The weight of his presence made Conner deeply uncomfortable. He was too aware of Lucifer’s… species. It pushed against him like a wave of force. He couldn’t not know that he stood before the Devil. It was like the elephant in the room, except one that you could physically feel. His instincts wouldn’t shut up, and the primal fight or flight response that had been highly developed in this part of Hell were calling for all hands to battle stations. The Adversary.

Except they were sitting down for afternoon tea.

Was Lucifer being deliberately off-putting?

“Your body is either ashes or food for the worms.”

Actually, yeah, he probably was.

“But-“

“Are you questioning me?”

“No sir,” Conner replied instantly. Lucifer looked calm sure, but a lifetime of knowing that the Devil is the ultimate evil played havoc with your mind when you finally met the guy.

He’d spent years here in this never-ending forest. He felt hunger when he couldn’t find any food, thirst when there was no water, sickness when he ate something wrong and he certainly bled when injured. He felt real.

“You are a soul, you have a body,” Lucifer explained disinterestedly, eyes roaming the surroundings. “Since your soul is naked down here, we’ll seal the deal with a kiss,” he made a dismissive hand gesture. “We don’t need intermediaries.”

Erm. Oddly enough, Conner’s first thought was but I’m not gay. Wisely, he realised that that didn’t matter in the slightest and he didn’t have the guts to tell the Devil ‘no’ anyway. The second thought was equally distracting.

Life. A second chance. Resurrection. It was a hope even more intangible than a dream. Ever since he’d woken up here, he’d prayed for forgiveness, he’d begged, he’d offered anything. All for nothing but more silence and more suffering. Maybe he did deserve this, he admitted he’d broken a few of the church’s rules – but if religion was true why hadn’t there been proof? Faith? How was anyone to take it on faith. If someone had just said that if you didn’t obey you’d go to Hell his entire life would have been different! The world would have been different! Why was the church not the government if it was all real?

It wasn’t fair.

And then the Devil prowled in, with this Faustian bargain. It was too good to be true, Conner knew that, but he was already in Hell, he’d been Judged and Sentenced – what did it matter anymore? He was already dead. But god oh god did he want to live.

“What is it you want me to do?”

Havoc and chaos probably, Conner thought, the Devil’s work and all that. Bringing down governments and protecting the Antichrist and waving cyber warfare – which admittedly might be kind of fun …

“Rescue.” Lucifer said quietly. “A girl has been kidnapped. Beatrice Decker. You will put your skills to use and find her for me, alive.”

Conner swallowed, his imagination flat lining. That did not seem like the Devils usual work. But he was not going to ask. He knew trouble when he saw it.

“And if I fail?” He asked quietly because apparently Hell wasn’t enough for his masochistic tendencies. “If she dies? Or if I can’t find her? You must have supernatural ways of finding people…”

Lucifer’s eyes flared red.

“Sure,” Conner whispered, cringing in his seat. “Sure thing, boss, whatever you want OK? I’ll definitely find her, I swear on my life.”

“Precisely.” Lucifer smiled, the hellish light fading from his gaze. “In return, you may live a mortal life once more, after I have the girl.”

“For how long?” Conner wasn’t paranoid exactly, but well, Hell. He really didn’t want to come back. He needed at least twenty years of being a white-hat; good deeds only under his belt before he could think of being Judged a second time. He flinched away from the memory.

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “Until you die a mortal death of course. I don’t renege on a deal.”

“You won’t ah, kill me once I’m no longer useful?”

“Only if you annoy me.”

“OK.” Conner stopped asking questions immediately. “Deal, done, agreed, yes, when do I start?”

Lucifer beamed at him. “That’s the spirit!”

Then he reached over the table, grabbed Connor by the back of his neck and dragged him down for a kiss. Conner felt it all the way through him, a wave of burning heat that scorched every particle, as Lucifer’s tongue dove into his mouth, licking into him and sizzling with every pass.

He felt Lucifer’s offer and his own acceptance, swirl around his being, the words like a physical weight as they etched themselves onto his soul. Branding him. It didn’t hurt per se, but it was impossible to ignore. It would always be there.

The clash of cymbals reverberated around them, the scent of freshly mown grass filling the air as he tried and failed to breathe around Lucifer’s all consuming presence. There was the sound of birdsong; he felt the confusing heady rush of a first crush and the warmth of a mother’s hug. Most of all, he felt the Light.

It wasn’t just a kiss; it was an out of body experience.

He was falling, falling upwards. It wasn’t flying, no it was definitely falling, just up and up and up – Conner couldn’t breath. Lucifer was still kissing him and Conner didn’t even realise he was eagerly returning it he was so consumed with the sensations within.

When Lucifer finally released him, breathing untouched and unbearably smug with himself, Conner was standing in the middle of a …club? He looked around wildly; forcing himself to let go from the octopus-grip, he’d somehow had on Lucifer, patting himself down. He was in the clothes he’d died in, minus the bloodstains.

“I’m alive.”

Bloody Hell. He gasped air like he’d just run a marathon. Real air! And no more fucking forest!

“Well of course you’re alive. I did promise didn’t I? That didn’t take very long at all now did it? Why He needed three days, I’ll never know. Now I’ve held up my end of the bargain – time for you to do yours. Chop chop.”

“Right, yeah, sure,” Conner agreed, feeling dazed. Life was flooding through him and the last thing he wanted to do was sit at a computer. He wanted to run, to eat, to drink, to fuck, to sleep, to fight, to howl.

“Mmm,” Lucifer eyed him with interest as if he knew what he was thinking - Conner’s thundering heart kicked up another twenty notches with something between gratitude, fascination, awe, lust and crippling terror. “We can play once you’ve found the spawn.”

“I’ll need equipment, boss,” Conner said, feeling a lot more confident now that Lucifer’s sheer presence was buffered by his new body. Hell left you scraped raw, and raw soul felt much like raw nerves – neither one wanted to be exposed to the Deceiver, in all his glory, in his own domain.

Lucifer handed over a credit card. It was one of those ones that felt it gauche to stick their brand on the card and preferred a more subtle indication of wealth.

“Go wild.” Lucifer said cheerfully, “Mazikeen here will take you anywhere you need to go.” And be his prison guard and executioner clearly, Conner thought eyeing the probably-not-a-woman sitting at one of the tables. “In the mean time, I have an appointment to keep.”

***#

Chloe gaped, feeling like the world had fallen out from under her feet.

“What?” She said weakly.

“You’re pregnant?” Dan choked on his police issue coffee.

“Pregnant?” The woman demanded, eyes blazing with rage. “Again? How dare you seduce him twice!”

That was it, Chloe thought wildly, her tenuous grip on patience frayed with a near audible snap.

“Me seduce him? What are you on? He’s the one who propositions me a dozen times a day! And you!” She rounded on a stupefied Dan, coffee dripping from his chin; “It wouldn’t be any of your damn business even if I screwed Lucifer a dozen times a day on this very desk. We’re separated and thank God we are! As for you,” She rounded on the woman, “Who are you, why are you here and how dare you try to judge my personal life!”

The station was deadly silent. Chloe refused to be embarrassed. She hadn’t done anything wrong. She stood tall, with no make up and yesterday’s hair bun, hands on hips, glaring the room into submission.

There was the sound of clapping.

Chloe spun.

Lucifer walked out of the shadows, clapping, a delighted grin on his face, “Why detective,” he proclaimed, “That was an incredible performance! Such rage, such poise, why I was positively cowed!”

Despite herself, Chloe’s glare softened and she relaxed.

“When did you get here?” He was on the wrong side of the bullpen to have come in the front door, but he’d probably broken in out of habit or something.

“Just in time to see your show, dare I ask what inspired you? If it was the douche, I can –“

“My Lord!”

Oh gross. She did not need to know about their bedroom games.

“Lilith, darling.”

Chloe narrowed her eyes. Not a one night stand then. Despite herself, she’d done a little research into Christianity after meeting Lucifer. Not because she believed his delusions mind you - just to get a handle on his references. Also, she wanted to know when he veered off script and what that might tell her about him. It was vaguely disturbing to her that he’d never dropped out of character. Insane or not, he was one hell of an actor.

Wasn’t Lilith a biblical figure too? She was hard pressed not to roll her eyes. At least she’d found one way to identify the members of his ‘famiglia’ or whatever he called his people.

“My Lord,” Lilith breathed, walking up to Lucifer – and not stopping at a polite distance. She swayed right into his personal space and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You left us. You left me.”

Perhaps Lord was the new word for Don? Or maybe it was British-organised-crime-tradition. Chloe focused on these thoughts instead of the blatantly sexual display going on right in front of her. Did Lucifer’s hands have to be that low on her back? And why was she wearing a dress like that anyway? This wasn’t a nightclub nor was it that warm outside.

“I was busy, my dear,” he purred down at her, eyes sparking with bacchanal promises.

At least the rest of the station had stopped paying so much attention. They were all far too used to Lucifer’s appetite. He was an excellent source of gossip for them and word had spread quickly of his way with, well, everybody.

“You took her with you,” Lilith grumbled, pouting – and she was even attractive doing that too.

“So?” Lucifer pushed Lilith away – finally – and straightened, “Now, any news?”

Lilith sulked, perching on the end of a desk and leaning back just enough to showcase her body to its best angle. “Your child remains missing.”

Lucifer blinked. “My child? Certainly not.” He brushed his jacket down fastidiously, shuddering in revulsion.

Chloe coughed into her hand, choking down her own reaction. Lilith thought Lucifer was Trixie’s father? Oh god. The mere thought of Lucifer reproducing… No. She wouldn’t laugh. This wasn’t the time. But…he’d probably use the baby as bait to women somehow and would buy it a rubber bone rather than a teddy bear, and it’s first word would be ‘fetch.’

“You expect me to believe you summoned three hundred thousand of us here on a whim?” Lilith murmured disbelievingly, still posing.

Chloe’s thoughts skittered to a halt. Three hundred thousand? Surely not. It had to be an exaggeration, some sort of ploy. Lucifer could call three hundred thousand people to L.A and they actually came?

She refused to believe that one thousandth of the population of America – and they had to be American, Lucifer did not have global influence – owed Lucifer enough of a favour to abandon their jobs and families without notice and come to L.A.

Where would they all fit?

“There has been no sign of Amenadiel or any other of your siblings,” Lilith said. “We’ve searched every state. We’ve even searched for an absence of signs. Are you sure this is the right continent, my Lord? Are you sure they’re involved?”

“The Hellhounds couldn’t find her.”

“Perhaps she’s already dead.”

Chloe flinched.

“She isn’t,” Lucifer replied with reassuring confidence, he put a comforting hand on her shoulder even as he continued his conversation with his…informant. Chloe didn’t miss how Lilith’s eyes followed the gesture. What she made of it, Chloe was too tired to care.

“Dismiss all but your personal guard back Below. It’s clear numbers will be no aid. Focus on Amenadiel.”

Lilith went after a slow formal nod that was too close to a bow for Chloe’s comfort, sashaying out of the station, many eyes followed her and just as many stared at Lucifer jealously. Why, Chloe couldn’t fathom. There had been nothing kind in Lilith’s eyes.

“Now, Detective, about that sex… this desk does look rather comfortable now that you mention it. I really should have pegged you for exhibition after Hot Tub High School shouldn’t I? Well, no matter, no time like the present…”#