9. Nine

Chloe and Lucifer end up in his bed eventually. 

The penthouse is dark, but the city casts enough ambient light through the windows that Chloe can still see. She can hear the thudding of Lucifer’s heart beneath her ear from her position draped over his chest. She likes that. She likes knowing what his heart sounds like. She likes the sound of his deep, even breathing. She likes being in his bed, naked and sated and happy, his silk sheets almost as soft on her skin as his fingertips tracing patterns on her back. 

“I didn’t intend this,” he says. His voice is a rumble through his chest.

Chloe picks her head up. “Hm?”

He looks down at her. “This wasn’t what I intended when I asked you to come here.”

Chloe bends her arm over his chest and rests her chin in the crook of her elbow. “So I wasn’t a booty call?”

“Of course not,” he scoffs. “Not that I’m complaining. It was extraordinary. And you know I’m always ready and willing.”

“Yeah,” she says with a laugh. “I think you’ve made that pretty clear.”

He smiles. He tangles his fingers in her hair and rubs a strand between his thumb and forefinger. Chloe watches him. His smile fades, and suddenly he looks lost in thought, and maybe a little sad. 

“Hey,” she murmurs, reaching up to coast her fingertips over his stubble. He meets her gaze. “You want to share with the class?”

He swallows. He looks suddenly apprehensive, and she’s opening her mouth to tell him he doesn’t have to share when he speaks.

“There’s a hell loop that looks like Lux.”

Chloe lifts her eyebrows. “Really?”

He nods. “Some poor sod who cheated on his wife with a woman he used to meet here. The wife followed him here one night and confronted him. Made quite a scene, though I admit I don’t remember it happening in real life.”

“So that’s his hell loop? Being confronted by his wife over and over again?”

“Not all of it. But it starts there.”

Chloe strokes her thumb over his chin. “I’m going to be honest, I’m still a little confused about what, exactly, a hell loop is.”

“It’s a manifestation of guilt. It takes different forms depending on what a person might feel guilty over. Some of them replay a certain moment. Some replay a longer period of time. Some take what you love and turn it against you rather than force you to relive something. It varies, but it’s all designed to torture. To punish.”

Chloe swallows. Hell sounds...horrible. “I guess I thought for most humans it was physical torture. Because Maze talks about it sometimes.”

“There’s that as well,” Lucifer says, brushing his hand through her hair again. “It’s com—” He catches himself before he says complicated. He glances at her, and then looks away quickly. “Hell is complex,” he adjusts. 

Chloe traces her index finger along his clavicle. “So there was a loop with Lux?”

“Indeed.”

“Did you visit it while you were down there?”

“A few times. Until it became too difficult.”

Chloe’s heart aches. “Because you missed home?”

He doesn’t reply. He stares at the strands of her hair woven through his fingers for a long time, and then he finally meets her gaze. 

“The doctor once told me that you could be surrounded by people and still be lonely,” he murmurs. “I felt that in the loop, in that place that looked like home and wasn’t, and I felt it tonight too. All those people downstairs, Detective, they see what they want to see. They see what they want me to be and not what I am. But you don’t. That’s why I asked you to come.”

Chloe’s eyes start to warm. “Because I see you,” she whispers. 

He nods. “I used to imagine you in the loop. I’d look up and see you at the top of the stairs, looking for me. Wanting me despite everything I was. But you never appeared. And then tonight, you did.” 

The relief in his voice makes her ache all the way down to her bones. She leans forward and presses her lips against his because she can’t seem to find her voice. His hand weaves through her hair and holds the back of her head. She closes her eyes tightly against the tears threatening to fall. 

“Anytime, Lucifer,” she whispers. “Anytime you want me, I’ll be here.”

“And if I want you all the time?” he whispers back.

She smiles. “Then I guess you’re stuck with me.”

His hand cups her face, and his thumb strokes over cheek, and then he pushes her gently backward so he can look at her. “I’ve made you upset again,” he murmurs, his eyebrows furrowing. “You’re crying.”

She shakes her head and sniffs. “I’m okay.” She can tell by the look on his face he doesn’t believe her. “I’m fine,” she insists. “I just...hate thinking about it.”

“About what?”

“You being stuck down there for thousands of years. Alone.”

“Well I’m not alone now,” he says, brushing her hair back from her face. He smiles. “And apparently I’m stuck with you.”

“No take-backsies,” she says, smiling too. 

He frowns. “What on earth does that mean?”

“According to Trixie, it means you can’t take something back once you’ve said it.”

“Well why wouldn’t you just bloody say that?”

Chloe rolls her eyes and rolls onto her back to stretch. “Because she’s ten and it’s fun. You’re no fun, Lucifer.”

She knows that’ll get a rise out of him, and it does.

“I beg your pardon?” he says, propping himself up on his elbow. “I am the most fun person you’ve ever met, Detective. If you were to look up fun in the dictionary you would find a picture of this dashing face and a note that says, See also: Lucifer Morningstar.”

“Mhmm,” Chloe says, trying to keep a smile at bay. It’s fun to provoke him the way he usually provokes her. He gets so angsty . It’s adorable.

Lucifer looks appalled. “How dare you. I have had more fun in a single evening than you’ve had in your entire life.”

“Drunken orgies aren’t fun,” Chloe says, crinkling her nose. 

He grins at her. “Well how do you know if you’ve never tried, hm?”

She shakes her head. “No. Not happening. Not ever.”

Lucifer hums in the back of his throat but doesn’t argue. He falls back on the bed with a contented sigh and stretches. 

Chloe casts a glance at him out of the corner of her eye. An old, familiar fear flickers in her chest. Will he want that someday? Will he want her to be more...adventurous? And if she’s not adventurous enough, will he get sick of her?

“Speaking of fun evenings,” Lucifer says, oblivious to her concerns, “I want you to know I haven’t forgotten.”

Chloe turns her head to look at him. “Forgotten what?”

“That I owe you a date.”

“You don’t owe me a date, Lucifer.”

“Poor choice of words on my part.” He rolls toward her. “All I meant is that we haven’t yet been on an official first date, and I intend to rectify that. I’m in the midst of planning a spectacular one as we speak.”

“You are?”

“Yes, of course. I know you’ve been patient already, but I need you to be patient a little longer. I want it to be special.”

Chloe reaches out to stroke her fingers over his jaw. “It’ll be special as long as we’re together.” 

“Well that’s very sweet, Detective. But it’s also patently absurd.”

Chloe blinks at him. “Excuse me?”

“As you said, it’s taken quite a bit for us to get here. We’re incredible. Don’t you think our first date should be incredible too?”

“Well, yeah. But you don’t need to stress out about it. I’m not hard to please.”

He grins wickedly. “Oh, yes, I think we’ve established that. All it takes is my admittedly talented tongue on your—”

“Okay,” Chloe cuts him off, flushing a little. “That wasn’t an innuendo.”

“Well not until I made it one, darling. That’s kind of my jam.” 

He leans toward her, and his palm slides across her stomach. His skin is warm. His thumb strokes over her navel, and her body responds immediately. Which, okay, that’s absurd. She really shouldn’t be ready to yank him on top of her again already. 

Lucifer is grinning at her like he knows what she’s thinking. “You shouldn’t be embarrassed about how much you enjoy my skills.” 

Chloe scoffs. “I’m not.”

“You’re blushing, Detective.” 

“Well because it’s not...I mean, I don’t…”

“It’s alright,” he purrs, his thumb stroking over her skin again. “I understand. All your exes were terrible at oral sex, so you were under the illusion that it’s overrated. And then you met me, and now you know it is very much not overrated.”

Chloe has no idea what to say to that. Her exes weren’t terrible, but they weren’t...well, they weren’t Lucifer. But there’s no way she’s going to feed his already massive ego and admit that he rocked her world out on that piano. 

“What I was trying to say,” she says, putting her hand over his just in case he gets any ideas and tries to slide it any lower, “was that you don’t need to go all Lucifer on this first date thing.”

“All Lucifer?” he repeats, his eyebrows furrowing.

“No billboards on Sunset. Or stripper grams. Or...you know. Other you stuff.”

“Billboards and strippers are not on the itinerary, I assure you.”

“What is on the itinerary?”

“Well you’ll just have to wait and see,” he says, smiling. He looks very pleased with himself, and she can’t decide if it’s adorable or if she should be worried. 

He leans toward her. “In the meantime,” he murmurs, his eyes flicking down toward her mouth, “we should practice.”

Heat flares in her body. “Practice what?”

“Dating.”

She laughs at that. “You know, some people would say we’ve been dating without dating for years now. I don’t think we need to practice.”

“Perhaps,” he acknowledges. “But I’d like to see you in that exquisite dress again. Sooner rather than later.”

“You just want to take it off me again.”

He grins. “Guilty.” 

And then he leans forward and kisses her. He lingers, his lips moving slowly over hers. It’s lazy, the exact opposite of the kisses that brought them up here in the first place, and she sinks into it. She loves this. She loves him. 

She slips her arm around him and rakes her nails gently up his back. A low rumble of pleasure echoes in his chest, and she makes a mental note of it. She’ll have to see how he reacts if she does this when they’re in the middle of everything. 

“Put the dress back on,” he says into her mouth. “Let me take you to dinner and then bring you home and we can do this all over again.”

“Sounds nice,” she murmurs. “But isn’t it a little late for dinner?”

He leans back to look at her. “Are you hungry?”

She thinks about it. “I could eat.”

“Then I’ll buy you dinner.”

“But who’s going to be open for dinner this late?”

“You let me worry about that.”

She arches an eyebrow at him. “You’re going to call in a favor, aren’t you?”

He smiles instead of answering. 

“You don’t have to waste your favors on me, you know.”

He leans back even farther from her, an affronted look on his face. “Waste? ” he says incredulously. 

“I’m just saying.”

“It’s not a waste, Detective. You’re more than worth it. I want to use my favors on you. It brings me pleasure.” 

She smiles. “Well if it pleases you…”

He grins and ducks forward to kiss her again. It’s a lot less lazy this time. She tilts toward him. He’s so damn good at this. He’s had plenty of practice, she knows, but she doesn’t feel like that when he kisses her. She doesn’t feel like she’s just another woman in a long line of them. She feels like she’s the only one who exists. 

His hand on her stomach starts to dip lower, his fingertips ghosting over her skin and toward—

“Okay, okay, wait,” she says, grabbing his wrist even though she very much liked where he was headed. “If we don’t stop now we’re not getting out of this bed.”

“Well I wouldn’t mind that,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

She grins. “Yeah, me neither. But do you want me in that dress again or not?”

He seems to genuinely think about it, and then he says, “I want that very much.” 

“Well then get moving,” she says, pushing against his chest. 

He opens his mouth to reply, but the sound of the elevator chiming cuts him off. 

Chloe frowns. “Were you expecting someone?”

Lucifer frowns too. “No.”

“Mr. Morningstar?” a male voice calls. 

Chloe clutches the sheet to her chest. “Who is that? ”

“Don’t worry, darling,” Lucifer says soothingly. “It’s just Carlos. He won’t step off the elevator.” He twists in bed toward the entryway to his bedroom. “What is it, Carlos?” 

“The L.A. Times reporter is asking for you, sir,” Carlos replies. “She says she was promised pictures of you at the piano.”

“Oh,” Lucifer sighs. His eyebrows furrow. “I forgot about that.”

“Go,” Chloe says. “I’ve kept you from the party long enough.”

“I’m not returning to that party,” Lucifer insists. “I’m taking my girlfriend to dinner.”

Chloe couldn’t keep a smile from her lips if she tried. Maybe someday hearing Lucifer call her his girlfriend won’t make her smile like an idiot. But not today.

“Okay,” she says. “How about you put your suit back on and go serenade your adoring fans for the camera, and I’ll meet you down there in ten minutes?”

Lucifer smiles. “Well I suppose that’s acceptable.” He flings the sheets off and gets out of bed in all his naked glory, and Chloe stares. She can’t help it. 

 “I’ll be there shortly, Carlos!” he hollers as he walks around the bed toward his closet. 

“Yes sir,” Carlos calls back.

Lucifer glances over his shoulder at Chloe, and then double takes when he sees her staring. He stops and turns around. “Like what you see, darling?”

“Yeah,” she says bluntly. 

He grins. He closes the distance between them, plants his palms on the bed, and bends forward to kiss her. She threads her fingers through the hair on the back of his head and kisses him back. 

“So do I,” he murmurs. 

“If you’re talking about seeing yourself in the mirror I’m going to punch you.” 

He laughs. “I wasn’t, actually. But that’s also true.” 

“Of course it is.” 

He leans back to look at her. His eyes flicker over her face. “I think you’re beautiful, Detective.” 

There’s reverence in his voice, and warmth floods through Chloe’s veins. 

Lucifer grins. “Especially when you’re writhing in pleasure on top of my piano.”

“And there it is,” Chloe sighs. She pushes on his chest. “Go get your photo shoot over with, you cocky jerk.”

“You’ll meet me downstairs?”

“Yes. Go.” 

He smiles at her like a kid on Christmas morning. He kisses her one last time and then heads for his closet, whistling as he goes. 

Chloe stares after him, warmth still circulating through her body. She knows they’re in the honeymoon phase. It won’t last forever. It might not even last all night, knowing their history. But she doesn’t care. Lucifer is here instead of in Hell, and they’re together. 

Finally.

Chloe doesn’t realize she missed a call from her mom until she checks her phone on her way downstairs to meet Lucifer. 

She slows to a stop halfway to the elevator and frowns at her screen. Why is her mom calling her so late on a Saturday night? Especially when she’s in Boston for a convention. It’s the middle of the night there. 

Concern flickers in Chloe’s chest. She opens her voicemail and lifts her phone to her ear. 

“Hey, Pumpkin,” her mom’s voice says on the other end of the line. “It’s Mom. I just had the weirdest dream…”

She sighs, and Chloe frowns. Is her mom calling her because she had a nightmare?

“Last time I talked to Trix she said that you and Lucifer have started seeing each other,” she continues.  

There it is, Chloe thinks. She should’ve known this was about her love life. Her mom has been sticking her nose in Chloe’s love life since she was thirteen and had her first (sort of) boyfriend. She still rattles off stories about divorced couples who got remarried to each other, and then very innocently says, So how’s Dan?  

Chloe is rolling her eyes when her mom says, “And I just...are you sure that’s a good idea, Pumpkin? Isn’t he kind of...dangerous?”

Chloe goes still. Dangerous? Why does she think Lucifer is dangerous?

“I’m going to fly to L.A. in the morning to see you,” her mom forges on. “We need to talk about this. Call me when you get this.”

The call ends. Chloe lowers the phone from her ear and frowns at it. What the hell was that? 

The elevator pings, and Chloe glances up. 

Maze strides off the elevator, her jaw set in determination. She stops short when she sees Chloe. 

“Decker,” she says. It almost sounds like a sigh of relief. And then her eyebrows lift and her eyes rake over Chloe’s body. “You look hot.”

“Thanks,” Chloe says. She slides her phone into her clutch next to her badge and clips it closed. She’ll deal with her mom later. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you.”

Chloe frowns. “Me? Why?”

Maze folds her arms over her chest. “We need to talk.”

“Now?” 

“Yeah.” 

Chloe shakes her head. “Now’s not really a good time, Maze. Lucifer and I are about to—”

“It’s about Lucifer.”

“Oh.” Chloe tilts her head. “What’s wrong?”

Maze crosses the room and puts her hands on Chloe’s shoulders. Chloe stiffens. The last time they stood like this, Maze kissed her. She’s not entirely sure if that’s Maze’s intention this time—she looks serious, but not in a Let’s make out way. More like a This is life or death so I need you to listen to me way. 

“Lucifer is the Devil,” Maze says slowly. 

For a second, Chloe is at a loss for words. She just stands there, her eyebrows lifted and her mouth open in surprise. 

“Um,” she finally says. “Yeah. I’m aware of that, Maze.”

“No,” Maze says, shaking her head. “You think you know what that means, but you don’t. You don’t know what he’s capable of. The things he’s done.”

Chloe frowns and shrugs out of Maze’s grip. “What are you talking about? I don’t care what he’s done.”

“You don’t care? ” Maze says in disbelief. “You, the cop who follows all the rules and would sacrifice your life for literally anyone just because you’re so damn good, doesn’t care about all the terrible shit your boyfriend has done?”

“I mean, I care,” Chloe says. “I just...I don’t think our past decisions define us. Just because Lucifer used to be something doesn’t mean he still is. We all have a past, Maze.”

Maze snorts. “Your past is getting naked on camera and marrying a douche. Lucifer’s past is different.”

Chloe bristles. “What is that supposed to mean?” 

“It means he’s the King of Hell, Decker. He tortures people. He hurts them.”

“Yeah but he didn’t want to do that. It was a job. He was forced to do it.”

Maze laughs. “Is that what he told you? I was down there with him. I know what I saw. And trust me, he enjoyed it.”

Chloe shakes her head. “No.”

“Yes. Decker, come on. Think about it. You’re telling me you’ve never seen him get a little too rough with someone? You’ve never seen him hurt somebody and enjoy it?”

Chloe wants to say no. She really does. But she can’t. 

“I’ve seen you do that too,” she says instead. “You’re not exactly the poster child for nonviolent restraint, Maze.”

“Yeah except you’re not in love with me, are you?”

That stops Chloe short. She folds her arms over her chest. “What’s your point?”

“My point,” Maze says, stepping closer, “is that he’s not good for you. He’s the opposite of good for you. And he’s bad news for Trixie, too.”

Chloe blinks at her, stunned. And then she frowns and looks closer. There’s something different about Maze’s eyes. They’re...blue and silver? No. They’re brown, still, but there’s a flicker every once in a while, and it makes her eyes look almost like stars. 

“Are you wearing special contacts?” Chloe asks.

“What?” Maze says incredulously. “No. Decker, focus. I’m trying to tell you something.”

“Yeah, you’re trying to tell me to break up with Lucifer.”

Maze grins. “Oh, good. You do get it. Great. Let’s get out of here.” 

She grabs Chloe’s wrist and tugs, but Chloe stands her ground and pulls her arm free.

“No. Not great, Maze. I’m not breaking up with him.”

The smile drops from Maze’s lips. “You said we were friends.”

“We are friends. But I don’t—”

“Friends don’t let friends do stupid shit,” Maze interrupts. “And trust me, Decker, fucking the Devil is stupid and it’s not going to end how you want it to.”

Frustration flares in Chloe’s chest. “It’s not just fucking, Maze. It’s—”

“It’s what?” Maze demands. “What, exactly, do you think this is going to turn into? You think he’s going to give up Lux and this penthouse and move in with you and Trixie? You think he’s going to get down on one knee and then you guys can live happily ever after with little devils running around?”

“I don’t know what it’s going to turn into,” Chloe says, trying to keep her voice even. “That’s something Lucifer and I are going to have to figure out together, just like we’ve figured everything else out.”

“Oh you did all the rest together, huh? So he asked for your opinion before he flew down to Hell and left me to pick up the pieces?”

“Maze—”

“He doesn’t love you, Chloe.”

The words hang in the air, brash and awful. Chloe feels a familiar fear wrap around her throat like a vise. Voices whisper in the back of her mind—he’ll leave you again he doesn’t love you he’ll get bored you’re not enough—but Chloe steels herself against them.

“You’re wrong,” she says quietly. She doesn’t know if she’s talking to Maze or the voices, but it doesn’t matter. They’re all wrong. 

Maze shakes her head. “No I’m not. You’ve known him for, what, a few years? I’ve known him for millennia. The only person Lucifer Morningstar is capable of loving is himself. He can’t love you, Chloe. And he doesn’t.”

For a long moment, they stare each other down. Chloe is desperately hoping that any second now, Maze is going to burst out laughing and say Got you! because this is some kind of stupid prank that her weird demon sense of humor thinks is funny. But Maze doesn’t crack a smile. She’s never looked so serious. 

The reality of the situation hits Chloe like a suckerpunch. Maze is serious. She wants Chloe to break up with Lucifer.

Anger flares in her chest. She lifts her chin in defiance. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, Maze, but I think you should go.”

“I’m not leaving,” Maze says. And then she tilts her head. “Actually, you know what? You’re right. I should go. And you’re coming with me.”

She grabs Chloe’s wrist and tugs her toward the elevator.

“No,” Chloe says, trying to yank her arm back. But Maze tightens her hold, and her fingers are like steel. Chloe tries to pull away again, but her wrist twists painfully in Maze’s grip.

She winces. “Maze, let go. You’re hurting me.”

Maze looks over her shoulder. “This is for your own good, Decker. You’re my friend, and I have to protect you. Even if it means I have to protect you from yourself.”

Her eyes are cold and determined, and fear pulses in Chloe’s chest. She wishes she had her gun. But what would she do if she did? Shoot her friend? 

“Maze, please,” she says. “Please let me go.”

Maze shakes her head. “I can’t, Decker. We’re not partners, anymore, but I’ve still got your back. You’ll thank me one day.”

She yanks Chloe after her and toward the elevator. Chloe tries to plant her feet, but her high heels slide over the polished floors. She pulls on her arm, but Maze is too strong. Chloe can feel her shoulder straining in its socket. She’s going to dislocate her own arm before she gets out of Maze’s grasp.

And then the elevator doors open and Lucifer appears. 

Maze freezes.

Chloe stumbles to a stop behind her and then exhales in relief. “Lucifer.”

“Well there you are,” Lucifer says, throwing up his hands. “And you say I take forever to get ready.” And then he notices Maze’s hand around Chloe’s wrist, and he frowns. “What’s this?”

“Nothing,” Maze snaps. “Decker and I are leaving.”

“I’m not going with you, Maze,” Chloe says. “Let me go.”

“No.”

Chloe casts a glance at Lucifer. Maze’s grip is hurting her again. 

Lucifer straightens as if he can read her mind. He steps forward. “Let her go, Mazikeen.”

“Don’t get in my way, Lucifer,” Maze snarls. “I’d hate to kick your ass again.”

Lucifer smirks. “Oh is that how you remember it?” 

“I remember your daddy saving your ass before I was finished with you,” Maze shoots back.

Lucifer narrows his eyes. “Let the Detective go, Mazikeen. Now.” 

The last word thunders through the penthouse with all the authority of a king. Maze lets go of Chloe’s wrist, but Chloe doesn’t get a chance to feel relieved. A metallic glint flashes through the air, and suddenly Maze has her curved knives in her hands. 

“You can have anyone you want, Lucifer,” Maze snarls. “But you can’t have her.”

Lucifer tilts his head. A smirk plays over his lips. “Are you in love with my girlfriend?” 

Maze scoffs. “You’re not even in love with your girlfriend.” She sets one foot in front of the other, lifts her arms into a fighting stance, and spins her knives. “I won’t let you torture my friend.”

“Torture?” Lucifer repeats. He glances at Chloe, a question in his eyes.

She shakes her head. “I didn’t—”

“Over my dead body, Lucifer,” Maze interrupts.

Lucifer’s eyes flash. “Oh, that can be arranged.”

He charges at Maze before Chloe can say a word. Maze charges too. Her knives flash as her arms fly through the air so fast they look like blurs. Lucifer ducks and bobs and then catches one of her arms. He lifts a knee toward her ribs, but Maze twists free and then backhands him across the face. Lucifer stumbles and then rights himself immediately. 

Chloe lunges forward and intercepts him before he can go after Maze again. “Lucifer.” 

“Back off, Decker,” Maze calls. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then cut it out,” Chloe says, glaring over her shoulder. 

“No, she’s right,” Lucifer says. Chloe turns toward him with a frown. He sweeps her toward the piano as if she’s a child. “Stay back, Detective.”

He tries to start toward Maze again, but Chloe digs her fingers into his arm. “No, Lucifer, wait. You can’t hurt her.” 

Lucifer looks at her over his shoulder. “What?”

“There’s something wrong with her.”

“Oh, there’s plenty wrong with her,” Lucifer sneers, shooting a glare at Maze.

“No, I mean there’s something wrong with her. Her eyes are...I don’t know, they’re weird. This isn’t her. She isn’t—”

Lucifer’s left hand shoots up, and he catches one of Maze’s blades an inch before it buries itself in his temple. 

“Maze,” Chloe gasps, turning to look at her in shock. 

Maze ignores her. “Come on, Lightbringer,” she taunts, motioning Lucifer toward her. “Why don’t you show Decker some of that wrath you’re famous for back home?”

Lucifer snarls. He wrenches free of Chloe’s gasp and strides toward Maze. It’s his turn to slash at Maze with one of her curved knives. She ducks and dodges just like he did, slashing back with the blade she’s still got, and they twist and turn across the penthouse in a violent dance. All Chloe can do is watch, her heart in her throat. She can tell Lucifer is holding back, but Maze isn’t. She’s giving him everything she’s got. 

They’re next to the couch when Lucifer lands a hard punch to her ribs. She doubles over, and he catches her around the throat and lifts her into the air. 

“You come into my house,” he spits, his eyes flashing red, “and touch my Detective, and you think this will end well for you? You’re lucky she’s asked for mercy on your behalf.”

Maze pulls her arm back and buries her knife in his forearm with a snarl. Lucifer roars in pain and drops her. Maze lands on the brand new glass coffee table, and it shatters into a million pieces beneath her. Lucifer turns away from her, staggering toward the bar with his arm cradled to his chest. 

Chloe darts forward. “Lucifer,” she says, grasping at his shoulder.

He shakes his head. “Fine.”

“You have a knife in your arm.”

He rips it out and it clatters onto the floor, stained with his blood. He clamps his hand onto the wound. “Not anymore,” he says, looking up at her with a grin.

Chloe covers his hand with hers and presses down to apply pressure. She glances around for something to put over the wound—a towel, a spare shirt, anything—but there’s nothing. “Damn it,” she mutters.

“You need to go, Detective.”

Chloe snaps her gaze up to meet his. “No way. I’m not leaving you.”

“Only one of us can fight a demon,” Lucifer points out, wincing when she presses harder on his arm. “And I do it much better when I’m invulnerable and not worried about you.”

“He’s right,” Maze says. Chloe glances over her shoulder. Maze is standing where the coffee table used to be, and as she steps over the bent metal frame, glass crunches beneath her boots. 

“You don’t belong in our world, Decker. You’re too fragile.”

Rage whips through Chloe’s blood, hot and furious. She lets go of Lucifer’s arm and steps between him and Maze. “Why don’t you come a little closer and I’ll show you how fragile I am, Maze.”

Maze smirks. “I like your spunk, Decker. Always have. But like I said before, I’m not interested in hurting you.” She pulls another knife—this one long and straight and lethal-looking—out of god-knows-where in her bustier. “Now move.”

Chloe shakes her head. “No.”

Behind her, the elevator pings. 

Maze smirks. “Then I’ll have them move you.”

Chloe turns around just in time to see half a dozen people pour out of the elevator. She knows all of them from work. Cacuzza is at the front of the group. 

“Decker,” she says, the same relieved sigh in her voice that Maze had earlier. “Thank God.”

Lucifer huffs. Cacuzza glares at him as she strides toward Chloe. Lucifer frowns, probably because Cacuzza has always been one of his biggest fans. 

“Deal with him,” Cacuzza says to the other cops over her shoulder. And then she grabs Chloe by the arm. “It’s okay, Decker. You’re safe now.”

Chloe frowns. “What?”

“Back off,” Hamilton says, stepping into Lucifer’s space. 

“I beg your pardon?” Lucifer says.

Robbins appears on Chloe’s other side, his fingers wrapping around her arm. “Come on, Detective. We’re going to get you out of here and away from him.”

Chloe twists in his grasp. “I don’t want to be away from him.”

Lucifer is suddenly there, his hand on Cacuzza’s shoulder. “I’m only going to ask once, Cacuzza,” he says, his voice low and dangerous. His hand tightens on her shoulder. “Unhand the Detective.”

Cacuzza whimpers and lets go of Chloe as she buckles under Lucifer’s grip. 

Lucifer shifts his attention toward Robbins, who reaches for his sidearm with a glare.

“Seriously?” Chloe demands, grabbing his hands before he can pull it out. 

And then Maze is slamming into Lucifer like a linebacker, and they fly backward and smash straight into the piano. The instrument collapses beneath them with a deafening crash. 

“Go!” Maze shouts over her shoulder from on top of Lucifer. “Get her out of here!” And then she turns back to Lucifer and pulls her arm back to punch him. 

Robbins tightens his hold on Chloe and tugs her toward the elevator. “Let’s go, Detective.”

Chloe grits her teeth. “I said no.” 

She lifts her foot and stomps her high heel down onto the top of Robbins’s foot. He yelps in pain, and Chloe shoves the heel of her hand straight up into his nose. Blood explodes from his nostrils, and he clutches his face with an agonized scream. 

Finally free of his grip, Chloe turns around. Cacuzza is rising again, and the four other cops are standing behind her like they’re posing for a superhero movie poster. 

“Don’t make me hurt you, Cacuzza,” Chloe says, lifting her fists.

Cacuzza shakes her head. “Five against one, Decker. I like my odds.”

Chloe smirks. “So do I.”

Cacuzza reaches for her. Chloe dodges the grab and catches her wrist. She yanks hard, and Cacuzza stumbles forward and past her. Chloe twists her arm behind her back and then shoves, and Cacuzza’s shoulder pops out of socket with a sickening crack. She yells in pain as her knees buckle and she hits the floor.

Chloe feels briefly guilty until another pair of hands wraps around her shoulders. She ducks and spins, and then shoots back up and brings her fist crashing across the face of Hamilton. He staggers away from her. Karpowski is right behind him, and Chloe kicks him squarely in the chest. He goes flying backward and takes out the two cops behind him like a bowling ball. 

Chloe glances toward the demolished piano. Lucifer and Maze are standing in the middle of the wreckage, trading punches and snarling at each other. Lucifer’s face is bloody, and there’s a gash along his thigh where his gray suit is stained crimson. 

Chloe’s heart shoots into her throat, but she doesn’t have time to worry. The three cops in front of her are struggling to their feet. The first one up is Nixon. 

He steps forward and grins at her, his eyes raking over her body. 

“Nice dress, Decker,” he says, leering at her. “You look almost as good as you did coming out of that hot tub.”

“I’m going to enjoy this,” Chloe mutters. 

She grabs an abandoned whiskey glass from the bar to her left and hurls it at him. He lifts his arms to shield his face, and the glass shatters against his forearms. By the time he drops his arms, Chloe is in front of him. She swings her fist across his unprotected jaw. Pain explodes in her knuckles, but she ignores it and lifts her other fist to punch him a second time. 

Nixon sways from the force of the combo and then staggers backward. Arms wrap around Chloe from behind, locking her arms at her sides. Another cop—Jenkins this time—strides toward her from the front. 

“This is for your own good, Decker,” Jenkins says, her hands in the air. “Stop fighting. We’re here to help you.”

“I don’t need your help,” Chloe snaps. She leans backward, using whoever’s behind her for leverage and balance, and kicks both her feet out and straight into Jenkins’s chest so that the cop flies backward.

Chloe’s heels land on the floor with a dull thunk, and she bends forward to try to keep her balance. The weight of the person behind her is too much, though. Gravity pulls at them, and Chloe tucks her head and rolls. She lands on her back and on top of whoever is behind her. She twists, wrenching her arm free, and then sends her elbow shooting backward. Whoever is beneath her exhales a sharp gasp in her ear and their grip loosens.

Chloe scrambles to her feet and glances down. Hamilton is wheezing on the ground at her feet. Jenkins and Karpowski are headed her way. She grabs the closest weapon she can find—a tall bottle of very expensive whiskey—and brandishes it like a baseball bat. 

Jenkins and Karpowski slow down.

“Easy,” Jenkins says.

“Come on, guys,” Chloe says. “Don’t make me do this. Just leave us alone.”

Karpowski holds his hands up placatingly. “I know you think you love him, Decker. But love doesn’t hurt.”

Chloe frowns. “What the hell does that mean?”

Before either of them can answer her, Maze flies through the air behind them. The demon’s body slams into the wall of liquor bottles behind the bar with a crash so loud Chloe thinks she might end up partially deaf. 

Jenkins and Karpowski flinch and turn toward the sound. Chloe seizes her chance. She smashes the whiskey bottle on Karpowski’s head, and then shoves Jenkins’s head into the bar. They fall onto the floor, unconscious, in almost perfect unison. 

For a moment, everything is finally still. Chloe’s ears are ringing from the sound of breaking glass. She glances out over the wrecked penthouse and sees Lucifer standing by the demolished piano, his chest rising and falling faster than normal as he sways unsteadily on his feet. Their eyes meet.

Chloe lunges toward him. Lucifer stumbles toward her, tripping over a jagged corner of the piano, and Chloe catches him as he tilts forward. He grasps her shoulders for balance, steadies himself, and then immediately puts his hands on her face. 

“Are you okay?” he rasps, his voice cracking. “Did they hurt you? Are you hurt?”

“I’m okay. Are you okay?” 

“Yes, yes, I’m fine.”

She glances down at his leg where the gash is, and then up at the cut on his face. The wound in his forearm from Maze’s knife is leaking, splattering crimson droplets on the floor between Chloe’s high heels. 

“Lucifer,” she breathes, her throat suddenly tight.

“I’m fine, darling.”

“You’re bleeding in like eight places.”

“Yes, I tend to do that when you’re around.” He glances past her, probably at her colleagues, who she left in various states of unconsciousness and pain. “Something is wrong.”

“Yeah, you think?” Chloe says. “This has celestial craziness written all over it.”

Lucifer shakes his head. “I don’t think this is divine.”

“Then what—”

The sound of more glass breaking echoes through the penthouse. Chloe turns toward the sound. Maze is getting to her feet slowly behind the bar. 

“Shit,” Chloe exhales. 

“Detective,” Lucifer calls. Chloe turns to look at him. “I need to talk to Mazikeen. I need to determine what all this is about. She’ll tell me what she knows, but only if you aren’t here.”

“No,” Chloe says, shaking her head. “I told you, I’m not afraid to see your dark side. So if you want to interrogate Maze—”

“It’s not about that,” he cuts her off impatiently. “Whatever’s happening, it’s clearly about you. These people want to keep you away from me. We can buy ourselves time by giving them what they want.” 

“Lucifer—”

He lifts his hand to her face. “It’s only temporary, love. You can slip out of this club without anyone stopping you, but not if I’m at your side. We don’t know who else will come here looking for you, and I need to be invulnerable. This is the only way. You have to leave me.”

Love, Chloe thinks. He called me love. But she can’t dwell on it. Behind her, glass is crashing to the ground. She glances over her shoulder and sees Maze climbing slowly over the bar. 

“Not dead yet, Lucifer,” Maze calls.

“Go,” Lucifer says to Chloe. “I’ll meet you at our beach. Go.”

Chloe hesitates. She doesn’t want to leave him, but he’s right. If she goes, she’ll draw away anyone else who might come trying to “save” her. And if they’re apart, he’ll be invulnerable. He’ll heal. 

She grabs his face and kisses him hard, just for a second, because she can’t help it. 

“I love you,” she whispers. 

And then she bolts for the elevator, stopping only to scoop her clutch off the floor so that she has her car keys. 

The elevator doors are still open. Chloe slips inside and slams her finger on the button for the main level. 

“Not so fast, Decker!” Maze shouts. 

Chloe slams her finger against the door button repeatedly. “Come on, come on,” she mutters.

The elevator doors start to close. Maze is sprinting toward the elevator, a determined glint in her eye, but Lucifer cuts her off. He tackles her, and they slam into the floor. The doors are closing, but Chloe keeps pressing the button anyway. They’re almost closed completely when an arm slips through the gap and stops them. 

The doors shudder and slide open again, and Chloe finds herself face to face with Nixon.

His bottom lip is a bloodied mess from their last encounter. “Hey Decker,” he says with a grin. There’s blood staining his teeth. 

He lunges at her. Chloe tries to swing at him, but he blocks her and wraps his hand around her throat. He shoves her backward and she chokes, her heels slipping on the elevator floor until her back slams hard against the elevator wall. 

Back in the penthouse, Lucifer roars her name. Chloe glances over Nixon’s shoulder and sees Lucifer, his eyes alight with rage, trying to scramble after her. Maze catches his foot and yanks, and he smacks onto the floor. 

The doors slide closed before Lucifer can get to his feet. The elevator starts to descend. Chloe claws at Nixon’s fingers around her throat. She can’t breathe.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Nixon asks, pressing himself up against her and dipping his head toward hers.

Chloe turns her face away from his. Nausea wells up in her throat. She can feel him. 

“Came to save you from the Devil,” he whispers to her, his breath hot on her cheek. “What do you think my reward should be?”

It doesn’t take a genius to guess what he thinks it should be, and Chloe sees red. She lifts her right arm, thrusts it down across Nixon’s, and sends her elbow rocketing backward into his face. He stumbles back from her with a cry of pain, blood flowing from his nose. 

Chloe follows him, adrenaline pulsing through her veins. She grabs his shoulders, pulls him forward, and then slams her knee into his groin. 

“How’s that for a reward?” she snarls.

Nixon’s eyes bulge. His hands drop from his bloodied nose to grab his crotch. He falls to his knees, still holding himself as his face turns a brilliant shade of purple. He chokes on a strangled sound, and then he collapses at her feet.

“Dick,” Chloe mutters. 

She bends over to grab her clutch from the floor where she dropped it, and then brushes off her dress in disgust. The elevator doors slide open and she strides off, leaving Nixon on the floor in the fetal position.

She’s rounding the corner out of the hallway and into the club when she runs into someone’s chest. She steps back in surprise, and comes face to face with Rick. 

“Detective,” he says. His eyes flicker over her, but not like Nixon’s did. He seems to be checking to see if she’s okay. “I was just on my way up to see you.”

Warning sirens blare in the black of Chloe’s mind. “You were?”

Rick reaches out to touch her arm. “Are you all right?” 

Chloe wants to ask him why she wouldn’t be all right and what the fuck is wrong with everyone, but he has the same look on his face that all her colleagues did right before they tried to forcibly remove her from Lucifer’s presence. Given the adrenaline that’s coursing through her veins, she’s pretty sure she could take Rick without much trouble. But she doesn’t know who else is coming behind him, and she can’t afford to waste time. The faster she gets away from Lucifer, the faster he’s invulnerable and starts to heal. That’s all that matters.

Which means she’s going to have to sell this.

“I’m fine,” she says. She brushes her hand over her dress like she’s trying to dust off something disgusting, and then she straightens her shoulders like she’s pissed as hell. “And I’m sorry, Rick, but I don’t think you’ll be seeing me around here anymore.”

Rick frowns. “Why’s that?”

“Because I just dumped your boss,” Chloe snaps. “He’s upstairs with some other woman. More than one, actually.” She gestures at her dress. “Do I look like the kind of woman who puts up with that shit?”

Rick smiles. “No, Detective. You don’t.”

“Because I’m not,” Chloe replies. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have other places to be.”

She brushes past him, hoping and praying that he isn’t going to pull a Nixon or, even worse, a Maze.

“Detective,” Rick calls out after her. 

Chloe freezes. She takes a deep breath, and then turns around. “Yeah?”

Rick smiles. “It’s his loss. You’re better off without him.”

Chloe’s heart twists in her chest. No, I’m definitely not, she thinks.

But she pastes a smile on her face and nods. “Thanks, Rick.”

And then she turns and walks as fast as she can out of the club, her hands curled into fists and her eyes blurred with tears.