Dan and Chloe tapped on the doorframe to HR.
The black woman squinted through stylish glasses at them with a sour expression, waving them in. "Oh, sweet Bast. Ahem. Decker? Espinoza?"
The two looked at each other, exchanging some secret sign that Lisa didn't care for in the slightest.
Espinoza spoke up. "Hey, Mrs. Summers, you got a second?"
"For you two? Sure, why not. Which file should I pull out? Both? Does this have something to do with Morningstar and Espinoza making out in the middle of the bullpen recently?"
Grey eyes flinched at that. "Er, yeah, grab his-"
Lisa huffed, bending and dragging a cardboard box with handles out from directly under her desk. She stood and dropped it on top with a measured thump. The nameplate on her desk that read 'L.A. Summers' bounced from the weight. She pulled the lid off, set it aside, then turned to pull single manila folders out from a cabinet behind her, placing them flat next to the box, side by side.
She waited.
Dan cleared his throat, knowing and fearing the answer. "Which of those is-"
"The box, detective. Please continue. Are you filing a complaint?"
Dan twitched. "No! No. actually...uhm, it's not that at all."
She looked pointedly at Decker. Make my life Hell. I dare you.
Chloe stepped into the room, pulling up a chair. "Well. You know how Dan and I divorced last year?"
Without breaking eye-contact, Lisa flipped open each of their slim folders, each with a signed copy of the amicable divorce paperwork right on top, notarized and filed with the state of California. She might live for this shit a little too much. But hey, if you can't enjoy your job a little...
Both people in her office shuffled in their chairs and looked at each other. Lisa relented, a little, "you getting back together? That's not weird, actually. Decker are you withdrawing your notice of dating Morningstar then? His box has been much easier while you two were together, so I'm sorry to see that end for that reason alone. No offense, Espinoza, you and the Devil make a cute couple and I hope you stay together, at least until after I've retired or transferred." She hoped her voice conveyed enough sarcasm to indicate she didn't really give a shit either way on the couple thing.
He clasped his hands on the desk and cleared his throat. "Actually, you can probably keep the lid on Lucifer's box afterall." He grinned like he was a kid with stolen candy melting in his pocket.
She hated it. And she was rarely in the mood for games, especially after being nice for three seconds. Icily, "Oh?"
He did his stupid glance at Decker again. She nodded and smiled, but at least she appeared more reserved with a 'get on with it' look. He turned back at Lisa. "It's the three of us."
Her brain stuttered. "Pardon?"
"Uhm. Us. And Lucifer. Officially dating. Poly? I guess."
She really shouldn't be that surprised. And she mostly wasn't. Not much really surprised her these days. "I see. Is anyone else dropping in? You realize Morningstar will have to stop by too, at some point. I assure you, he well knows where my office is as he used to make frequent visits. We practically had an established post-lunch check-in. By the way, half of the folders in the box are for suspects." She allowed herself an internal bit of glee at their squirming reaction to that last bit. "And now you're both on my bad side, since he almost always brought me a small apology gift when having to do more paperwork." A very small gift each time, so as to not break the rules for accepting such gifts. Just because he hated doing paperwork didn't mean he hadn't actually read the work manuals. He both ruined and brightened her afternoons on many occasions.
He flushed. "Er. No, just us."
Returning to full professional mode, she set a pen down on the desk between the folders. "You realize people have come in claiming to 'date' him before, and he had to refute it. Decker is the only one he hasn't. Granted, she's here now so that shouldn't be a problem. Do you have a start date of when this began?"
Espinoza scratched his neck and glanced at Decker. "No?"
Decker, predictably, rolled her eyes. "No, we don't. A few months after Lucifer and I were on your books, if that's good enough."
"Fine. Does Espinoza need a separate file? I mean, he's getting one, but can I expect individual visits as well as joint? Nevermind, I'll just assume that will be the case. Sign this." She produced a new paper form from her desk with multiple blank lines (six) and prepared typed paragraphs. She hadn't gotten to pull out one of these forms in a while. It looked a lot like the standard two-person form she started out with, but this had been modified quite a bit.
The two looked at her in a way that felt extremely satisfying to her ego. She pushed her glasses up her nose with the barest sliver of a smile. "It's 2018, boys and girls. This isn't the first time I've needed this particular sheet. And no, I won't divulge who was responsible for making my life Hell in creating that form, but it wasn't your boyfriend. You aren't the first and you won't be the last ones to sign one like this." She deliberately uncapped a Sharpie and drew straight through the three bottom lines, thickly.
She loved the smell of nervous detective in the morning. One of her little joys in life.
They looked properly chagrined. Decker reached for the regular ink pen, signing her name and printing it on the top line. To top it off, she was legally Chloe Decker Espinoza while they were married, but preferred to be called Decker. After the divorce, she went back to her maiden name. She glanced up at Lisa over the pen and paper. "I want to assure you it won't affect-"
Lisa interrupted her. "Yeah, it will. But if we're all incredibly lucky, the overall effect will remain that I won't have to pull Morningstar's box out as often as I did when he started here. I will say I was excluded from the dating betting pool because of my position, but, that works out great for me now since the going pool for how long you and he will last just got mucked up to Hell and back by this development. I get to stand back and watch that particular fallout happen. I might even make popcorn."
Decker's baby blues blinked in mild, true, shock. Dan laughed. "Okay, yeah, I might have thrown five bucks in that pool."
Chloe's eyes suddenly turned to lasers on him. "What? When?"
He shrugged defensively. "For the record, I threw it in the 'six months' pot. No one put money on longer than that, since he doesn't do long term-"
Lisa turned her own glare on him. He had a lovely squirm.
"-didn't do long-term until now. And then, we didn't know about-"
Decker elbowed him unsubtly.
Lisa sighed. "Was that bit there anything I need to know?"
"No!" they replied as one.
She was unsurprised by the simultaneity of it. "Decker. You don't have anything else important to add?"
She looked genuinely confused for a moment, then shook her head, flushing. "Legally you can't ask that you know."
Espinoza blinked like a fish out of water. If fish could blink. He didn't quite make the connection. Good. If Decker was or got pregnant, Lisa did not look forward to working out who the father could be. She better go ahead and make up two sets of papers, just in case it happened. Knowing her luck, it probably would.
Lisa's lip twitched. "And I didn't, did I? Just trying to stay ahead of things." She passed the paper to Dan, who, to his credit, didn't balk a bit at printing his full name, signing and dating his line. He even gave a fond look to the third, empty line under theirs.
Time to start a new betting pool. Just because she couldn't throw money in didn't mean she wasn't helping manage it. "I'll let you both know when your new mandatory training sessions are for-"
Dan groaned in a very satisfying this-crap-better-be-worth-it kind of way.
"'Relationships in the Workplace'. Morningstar can attend at his leisure since he's only a consultant. Since he's not here now, one of you can tell him he needs to drop by to schedule that too. Luckily for you, Espinoza, this is only your first one in a while. You get to do it all over again with your ex-wife. At the same time, if you want. Morningstar too if you can wrangle him, but I have yet to schedule him for anything he'll stick too. Usually I have to just haul his ass over when he's bored."
He squirmed. "Sure."
"So, when, I ask optimistically, can I expect him today?"
Decker patted her ex-husband's wrist affectionately, and Lisa changed around her internal bet, a little put out she couldn't throw money in the 'Morningstar Shipping Pool'.
Espinoza replied with a returning grin, "any minute now."
Lucifer woke in the dark. The heat of his own breath felt heavy on his face, stuffy and stagnant. Something covered his head. Maybe more than one something, hard to say.
That was the first weird thing.
The sharp, stabbing pain in the back of his skull was the second, and much more immediate problem.
The Hell?
He lifted his head but the darkness moved with him, fabric falling against his face. As he tilted his head, a line of light moved with his vision, points of flame pricking through the covering along a flat line all around him, he thought. He moved to grab said fabric off his head with a sharp growl but the action was halted by an answering constriction of his arms and shoulders. His wrists were virtually numb where they weren't shot through with phantom pins and needles.
This would not do.
His mouth felt full of cotton and something else? his tongue was swollen and less than responsive to his commands. On the plus side, the headache rapidly faded, leaving his pulse thumping in his brain. He opened his lips to call out for Chloe or Dan, as one of them must be near for this to be happening, but a further foul wrapping on his face prevented it, with something stuffed in his mouth to add insult to injury. It tasted like acidic, bad garlic.
Well then. This was now firmly in the category of 'novelty'.
His weak twitching caught the attention of someone.
The hood, lying loosely open around his neck, got yanked off with a flourish that gave him immediate relief from smelling his own breath but did little else in the way of improving his situation. Footsteps retreated quickly.
He had a view now, at the minimum.
He blinked with dry eyes that ached and his eyelids fully separated only with sticking effort. He couldn't touch his eyes to wipe them off and it was maddening.
Bone-white fat candles a foot or so in height encircled him, with enough space for him to lie spread eagle with room to spare, had he been able to do that, making it around eight to ten feet across.
A robed figure stood in the shadows at his feet, of which he noted with growing alarm were bare. He wiggled his toes to be sure, and the ones in his field of view did, in fact, respond, the nude gloss of his pedicure reflecting candlelight back to him. His knees, too, were bare.
He tried to roll on his back, but that's where his hands were bound. His neck clenched in frustration, unable to even make a sound. He tried to breathe in through his mouth and the stale, acrid garlic punched him in the throat and lingered there. He could exhale but it took effort and didn't actually ease his raw throat. He tried looking at more of his surroundings and ignored the rude fellow in the line of candles. The ceiling held mysteries and no windows, only an iron chandelier with symbols in red marked on it, barely visible in the light from the ground. It held narrow candles above him whose light didn't reach the ceiling. There appeared to be several black iron snakes woven into the hanging structure.
How archaic.
The hard floor under him thrummed with a tingling power that was both familiar and not.
Sometimes the old magic was the best.
Where did that thought come from?
He looked down now, really looking, his dry eyes sweeping his own body and stopping. He wore only a swath of fraying silk that appeared to be jet black and tied or perhaps tucked artistically rather than clasped with any metal, plastic or other pinnings. At least he didn't feel any. Another narrow length wrapped around his upper chest, tight to the point of discomfort unlike his sort-of skirt. The upper strap restricted his ability to take a full breath.
To be sure of his looser covering, he rubbed his naked thighs together and confirmed he had only that and no undergarments, along with the cloth across his face and his various bindings.
Well then. Still not worse than being burned alive. So far. He was still on the mortal plane as well, so he had that in his favor. He tested the bonds at his wrists and found them...adequate to the task, which was worrisome.
Pulling his ankles into his view for further assessment, he found more of the same cloth, wrapped tight enough in centimetre or so-wide strips to cut off most of his circulation but oddly not harsh on his skin. They were bound side by side, with no give to cross his ankles, so sitting comfortably was right out. It was hard to tell in the dark, but there did seem to be a number of layers, not just one or two passes. Not rope.
Why was that important?
It left him immobile, his ankles covered by several inches of cloth wrappings rather than one single binding of rope or cuffs. His wrists were more tightly restricted than even that, his forearms stacked on top of each other and bound lengthwise, pulling his shoulders back uncomfortably. A weight indicated a chain to top it all off but not a heavy one, oddly.
This was getting worse and worse.
Wriggling, He came face to face with a red marking on the floor that made his blood finally run ice cold.
Cultists.
Not just any cultists either. Ones who read the original scripts, not the ones invented by himself all that time ago to bury those scripts. Apparently, he wasn't 100% successful in that endeavor.
He never knew who released those originals, which of his miserable family members or maybe even Lilith, but the very existence of the words were another layer of sealing him to Hell itself, another step between himself and Heaven.
That he never wanted to go back to the Silver City was irrelevant.
At the moment, he lay on a surface that restrained him in multiple ways. The magic embedded in the design pulled him down, making him feel heavy, tired.
Why? Did they know what they were doing? How long did they mean to keep him here? For what purpose?
He managed, with extreme difficulty, to sit up and take better stock of his surroundings, tipping up with his feet in front of him.
Now that the candle flames were below eye-level, he could focus a bit more. The figure hadn't budged a millimeter, but he felt directed interest. His hair felt like it stuck out at an angle and he tried to reach to fix it. It didn't work. He got his hands to twitch but nothing more. At least his fingers were free, as were his toes. He flexed his hands experimentally, allowing blood flow back into his various digits.
This was not good. He just wasn't sure how 'not good' it was just yet.
The distinct lack of taunting after he woke up, he was pretty sure, wasn't actually a good sign either. He'd seen more than enough hero/villain flicks to guess how this was supposed to go, not that he thought of himself as a hero. Really, just one word out of his kidnappers would be expected from a host.
The figure either wasn't allowed to talk to him couldn't. But it watched in heavy silence. It made no move to signal to his captors that he was awake. Making this a singular captor, or simply that well disciplined. Maybe this miserable location was wired with cameras.
Maybe not.
The drab, formless body covering revealed nothing of the gender of the watcher. He twisted in place, but no others were present. A single goat skull watched him with empty eye sockets from the edge of the circle. He snorted, rolling his eyes.
Theatrics.
The cloth rode up under him, leaving his ass in contact with the - now that he could tell, cold and damp concrete floor. Underground then, probably. It wasn't comfortable. He wondered why they bothered with concrete instead of an earth or stone floor.
The figure could have been a statue swaddled in fabric, save that he felt the gaze of the wearer.
The thing in his mouth was interfering with his ability to scent out humans and was a damned bother either way. He should have something to work with by this point, and now he was just getting angry. He needed something to go on. An accent from the figure, language, disposition, anything.
The covering of his, his? eyes must be a deliberate measure.
He tried looking above the line of candles to gain some useful dark vision. More lights flicked silently in the black, several meters back, stars save for the cupola splash of reflected light behind each one. They were numerous as well, leaving the impression of an enormous structure, maybe a carved cavern, maybe a dome or oval. Most likely dome, for circles.
As he watched, one flame burned out and was immediately replaced by an unseen attendant. There was at least one other in the room. Either an open door or none. The candle flames closest to him made it impossible to make out the floor beyond.
He noted that after his blood circulation started to restore itself, the pain faded to virtually nothing. He cupped his toes and dragged his feet across the ground, catching a nail and pulling it.
No pain.
Pressure though. He could always still hurt himself, even tear the nail if he tried.
No detectives nearby. He exhaled a small sigh of relief and the robed figure finally reacted, shifting minutely. He sensed a passing curiosity, but no alarm.
Perhaps they were unaware of the vulnerability. That could be useful. Of course, the likelihood that he had been delivered to this lot without active participation on their part seemed next to nil. The setup had to have been done days in advance, or longer.
Right then.
Lucifer debated on extending his wings, but this wasn't the time for it just yet. His shoulders shivered all the same. He felt his wings desiring to spring loose, the only things unbound.
The figure tensed, shifting again with alertness.
Or were they unbound?
The wings, by their very nature, pass through anything made by men. They shuddered violently in their flesh pockets, unable to unfurl, accompanied by a flash of cramping pain. His bindings, or at least the specific one across his chest, were not made by men.
He accidentally inhaled another sulfur-filled breath through his mouth and tried to cough. The chest binding was too tight to allow it.
The figure relaxed.
That was what it was waiting for.
Lucifer saw white-skinned fingers appear and clasp themselves in front. It bowed to him in severe contrast to his current state. A male voice emitted from behind a thick fabric face mask that was draped to hide the contours of his face as much as his body. "My apologies, Lord Lucifer. If you agree not to try to escape the circle, or your other bindings, we are willing to remove the gag. It's mundane."
His skin would have blazed if he had the Devil form By the same token, his bindings would have burned to ash for that same reason, regardless of their origin.
Probably.
"I understand that kind of agreement is difficult to accept. We are willing to modify it for shorter increments."
Lucifer held perfectly still, eyes flashing red then fading back.
"Very well, Lord." The figure bowed again and stepped back, through an opening in the candles. He bent and moved more into position to fill the gap.
Lucifer noted there was a complete ring of melted wax under the line of candles, built up over time. He'd either been here already for some time, or this circle has been used as a ritual site before. Recently or otherwise. Perhaps with a test subject. Maze?
Why did they think his voice mattered? Because they can't restrain the power of his persuasive voice? Had he other powers still available to him?
He got his knees under himself, twisting to get a look at the chain. It was unshining black with a long four-sided spike at the end that lay on its side, clean and matte with uneven edges itself. Old. Curious, Lucifer used his body motion to pull at the chain, which flexed while the length of iron spike didn't move an iota, despite being not sunken into the floor or otherwise visibly anchored to the ground.
A drop-weight spike. Enchanted. One of three possible such spikes. It wouldn't move from its position unless touched again by the person who placed it. Annoying buggers.
That person would certainly not be the one in front of him. If it were so, his death would sever the link of power and he would be free again. Of that aspect, anyway. He found it unlikely his captors would risk it.
The same voice carried from beyond the light. "Cold-wrought iron chains. The circle was drawn with the blood of day-old lambs and sealed with ash. Other mechanisms are in place. We regret the extremes we had to take but fear no other chance will present itself. I will attend any needs you have as I am able to."
Lucifer squinted. Great. He probably had ash up his butt. Again.
His captor continued, "your consort weakens you, Lord. That's how you were taken. Admittedly, this took time to arrange and have ready. She is unharmed, since the fault isn't hers. It is only because of her presence that you were...secured."
They didn't know everything. He almost laughed, shaking his head. Them knowing that much was a problem, but they didn't mention Daniel, who was no miracle. They didn't know Dad apparently had naught to do with his onset of vulnerability, as he entirely dismissed the idea that any Powers That Be would put the pair of him in his path.
Didn't get rid of the problem now, either though.
The figure departed, leaving him in nearly total silence. His jaw ached. He may not be in pain, per se, but the unknown thing in his mouth aggravated him badly. He worked his tongue and teeth but he only came up with leaves and pointed thorns. Perhaps actual fermented garlic, a bit of vinegar and...thistle?
It wasn't pleasant.
Assuming the figure remained nearby, he grunted a questioning sound.
He was. "Lord, are you reconsidering the deal?"
He narrowed his eyes at the dark.
"You should know that I will be killed if I attempt to free you. I understand you care about such things now." The voice dipped sadly. "I am nothing to you, nor should I be."
Rage he hadn't felt in some time flushed his veins. The attendant called the gag mundane. He crushed the thing in his mouth, chewing it up and swallowing it, though it took an effort of willpower to get through the disgusting mass that felt like eating crickets soaked in fermented garlic oil. He finally made room for his tongue to pull the fabric between his teeth and gnaw it until it frayed and broke.
He still had his strength.
He put his head down to the cool floor and inhaled several breaths through his mouth to clear it as much as possible. When he looked up again, the man hadn't moved, he thought. The circle depressed some of his senses, but the taste lingered and he couldn't spit enough to get the miserable flavor out, not without some kind of replacement fluid. He was dry enough as it was, but no refreshments appeared to be forthcoming.
Talk about shitty hosts.
He finally worked up enough saliva to ungracefully remove loose bits of whatever horror that was, noting the fragments that came out were black. He took in as deep a breath as he could manage, drilling the man with his gaze. "I'm going to tear your heart out with my bare hands and piss on it."
The figure inclined his head and walked away.
Dan found himself rubbing idly at the faded ring scar that had been slowly healing over only the last year or so. He wasn't really sure where his gold wedding band was, to his slight regret. He lost it in a drunken haze. It was somewhere in his apartment, he thought, but then again, it might not be.
Not that he wanted to wear it again. Not the original. The symbolism trumped practicality if they took anything more seriously. Whatever happened, there weren't exactly any legal options.
They might have to move to Utah.
Lunch came and went with no sign of his Devil boyfriend. It wouldn't be the first time he got distracted by something shiny. But usually it didn't happen on days with an active murder case. Lucifer almost always made sure he was available for suspect interrogations. This had to be the first time he had really vanished since dating Chloe, that he knew of.
By the time case work was done, it was nearly six PM, and Dan had been flipping files for several minutes without actually looking at them. He straightened to get up and find Chloe, but she found him first.
She came over and squeezed his shoulder, getting his attention. Even when they were married, that was the height of the amount of affection she ever showed in public to him. He understood the desire to look professional, even when all he wanted to do was sweep her into a nearby closet. Her expression stopped those thoughts in their tracks. She asked, "have you seen Luce? I haven't heard anything since we left the penthouse this morning and I'm getting...anxious."
He went down the mental list. "You called him?"
"Yeah, nothing. Goes straight to voicemail. No response to text either, not even emojis."
"Email?"
"Nope."
"How about Maze?"
"Haven't tried yet."
"When should we worry?"
"I'd say when Maze does, but I'm going to go ahead and call her."
No answer.
Chloe bit her lip. "Great. Well, I mean, what kind of trouble can he get into?"
They exchanged a look and headed for Ella's lab.
Chloe tapped on Ella's lab door.
The woman pulled out her earphones, her smile fading as they piled in. "Hey guys? Who got murdered?"
"We can't find Lucifer. We haven't seen him since this morning, Maze isn't picking up and we don't know how to reach Amenadiel. Are you uh, in contact with Az?"
Ella's eyes grew saucer sized. "She's usually pretty busy, but I can usually, uhm, reach her?"
Chloe nodded. "Sure, you have her number?"
"She doesn't have a phone, I have to pray to her. And that still kinda feels weird? Like where I grew up, you only pray to the Big Guy, and frankly these days, I'm a little more worried about that kind of thing, you know?"
Dan and Chloe looked at each other. He asked first, "well, I'm not. I think. Can I pray to her?"
"Oh, gosh, would you?"
He looked curiously at her.
Ella turned on the puppy eyes. "I mean, she's the Angel of Death, and I don't want to bother her unless it's super important. If I see her, it's because she has a spare half hour or so and she just drops in and we can watch Rick and Morty for a few minutes and have nachos. There aren't a lot of people that know her name, so hardly anyone ever talks to her."
He raised an eyebrow. "Okay, I need to hear her opinion on that show at some point. But. Just pray? Would that work with the others?" The others. The other angels. That we have regular interaction with now. "Uh, do they talk back?"
She shook her head. "No, it's strictly one-way. And it probably won't work with Amenadiel, since, you know."
"Okay. Then, just like, 'Hey, Az? Your brother might be in trouble?'"
"Nooooo, you have to be really way more specific than that. There are a lot of brothers, you have to use her whole name, and pretend you're like, a Jedi and trying to contact Luke across the galaxy with your mind. Out loud alone isn't good enough. You can do both though, out loud and in your head, but just in your head works too. Or so she's told me."
"Do I have to, uh. Kneel?" he knew he was dealing with incredibly powerful beings, but still, having sexual relations with one of them skewed his thought processes toward 'people with wings'. Lucifer's overall non-serious nature too wasn't helping. If he has to kneel though, he's doing it in a closet.
"I usually do. I mean, for Rae-Rae, it's a risk of being a pretty big imposition. I want her to know that I'm taking my responsibility as 'knowing' seriously."
Chloe squeezed his shoulder. "If you duck below the windows, behind her table, no one will see you."
His palms broke out in a light sweat. "Want to help?"
Her hand twitched. "I'm not in practice. It's been decades since I've prayed, and even then, I can't remember the last time I actually meant it. I know you've done it more recently."
"I mean, usually Grace, if anything. But okay."
Chloe peeked out through the lab windows. Seeing no one looking their way, she gave him a quick kiss.
"Okay, you know, getting down on the floor here is going to give me other ideas too."
She swatted him playfully and he found a spot on a floor mat, settling himself and trying to focus. This is for Lucifer. Don't fuck this up. Actually, Luce? Uhm. Lucifer? Morningstar? If you can hear me, we're worried about you. He paused for a moment to arrange his wording that hopefully made some sort of sense to Lucifer if he even got it, then he moved on to Azrael. Uhm. Jedi Dan to Azrael - Hey, Angel of Death, please don't worry, but-
Azrael popped in immediately with a flash of black wings, yanking Dan up to his feet, despite her very short stature. "Is Ella okay? I didn't see anything-" She saw Ella, dropped Dan and ran over and squeezed her quickly. She pulled back with a bit of a judgey look. "You look okay."
Chloe ran to the blinds and started closing them one by one.
Dan brushed his knees off, sparing half a second to review his life. "Ella is fine, it's Lucifer we can't find. Normally, it's not weird for him to be out of contact-"
Az squinted at him, vanished for about three seconds in another swirl of air and feathers, then came back. "I can't find him. Where is he supposed to be?"
"On his way here. He told us. Uhm. That he can still go to Hell but it's not great for him right now. Please don't-"
She flutter-vanished again.
"-Bring any ash back with you."
When she re-appeared, it was with only a few flakes of ash on her wings. "I can't actually 'go' there anyway, just look in. He's not in Hell either. Or the Silver City."
Ella scrambled to keep her notes more or less in place with the air displacement. "What does that mean?"
"He's hidden. He's not dead. I saw Uriel when he died, but he couldn't cross…" she shuddered, trailing off.
Dan looked at Chloe first for some reason. She shrugged in response, asking, "Uriel?"
Azrael's face tightened. "One of our brothers. Lucifer killed him."
Neither seemed to know how to respond to that. Chloe found a chair to sit in. "Was this...a while ago?"
"No. Just last year."
She felt the blood drain from her face. "Why?"
"You should probably ask him, once we find him."
"Is it...related? Do you know why he could be missing now? Did something change?"
Azrael (Chloe just couldn't think of her as Rae-Rae) inclined her head. "Well, not to put too fine a point on it, but you did. You, and Daniel."
"Because we know things we shouldn't?"
"Might be. I'm not omniscient. But it is something newish. From a 'this plane' standpoint, it might be the committed relationship thing. That at least gives you something to work from if he's been taken and not just hiding himself."
Dan shifted. "Would he do that? Hide himself?"
"I'd normally say it's more likely than not, but I believe he would have told you that he was doing it, so as to avoid this exact situation."
"So, you're saying he really has been kidnapped? What can do that? Has it ever happened before?"
"Another archangel could, but Mike isn't...subtle. The other set of twins aren't as invested In the doings of earth, or Lucifer."
Mike. Michael. Chloe rubbed her face. "Lucifer never told us he was a twin. I guess it doesn't matter. Okay, for now, we're going to just assume that we can in fact, do something. Here, on Earth, who could do it? What here has the power to kidnap and slash or hold Lucifer?"
Ella, Dan, and Chloe waited while the angel held up a hand to list options with her fingers. "A dragon, but they're all sleeping- I checked. Two - Eve could possibly seduce him to the Garden but that's not likely; that spot is also protected from the outside and he could still leave on his own. Third, some priests on earth have a special connection to Father, and several of them working together might contain him, like an Infinity Stone, but not for long. Fourth-"
Dan interjected, "an Infinity what?"
Ella whispered, "Guardians of the Galaxy, dude."
"Oh. Right. Sure." And quite obviously tried hard not to think about that at all.
Az continued, "Fourth, a cult of Satan Worshippers could hide him, but probably not restrain him. Fifth, and again with possible worshippers, there are spell-casters; witches, sorcerers, whatever you want to call them, who could probably do it, but they tend not to show themselves. Lastly, and this would put him out of the range of your help - another 'god' could do it."
His brain broke just a little. "I thought there was only one...God?"
"Father and Mother are the creators of this reality, but they also made lesser beings, above archangels but below themselves to rule over and run other galaxies, or clusters of galaxies. That said, they don't/didn't appreciate it when one of their 'gods' got uppity and have been replaced from time to time. If any of those tried to steal one of Father's children, He wouldn't stand for it, even if it was Lu."
And there goes the rest of his brain.
Az dropped her hand, looking at him. "Daniel?"
"Yeah. Okay. Fine. How about the priests?"
"I'll get a hold of Amenadiel and get him to start doing some footwork and check the local churches and cathedrals. He may be fallen, but he should still have a sense of what to look for, who to talk to. As for the Satanists and spell-casters, we should find Ley Line intersections. Most of them have been accurately mapped by mortals, already, so you and Chloe and Ella can start working up a list of coordinates to try out. Once you do, I can confirm whether they're real, fake or they've moved."
Chloe nodded, sorting things into 'can do' and 'can't do' lists, zeroing in on the things she can do to help. While Dan was off collecting his scattered nerves, she was standing there, notebook in hand and jotting down things like this was any other case.
Which it kind of was, actually.
Azrael was saying something in response to a question from Chloe he entirely missed.
"-but belief does give some people powers. Not everyone, mind you, and it's usually not really noticeable, but it does happen. It's why you heard more about magic in the past. It used to be more common, but fewer people believe in it. Even the person observing can affect a spell-caster if they don't believe it'll work."
Dan tried to catch up. "So that's why there are no fairies?"
She nodded, sadly. "Yes, exactly. They died out a few hundred years ago."
"I didn't actually mean - well, crap. I better not tell Trix."
"So. I'll go find Ami. And Maze and get looking."
Her wings poked out, unfurling.
Ella bit her lip. "Hug?"
"Oh my gosh! Yes! Azrael's wings embraced her friend in a hug of arms and feathers as Dan looked on with a lead weight in his stomach.
Lucifer jerked his head up. Something tickled the back of his head and for once, it felt promising. He focused inward, taking note of the disciple reacting to his change in posture.
He deliberately returned to his position, pretending it was just a neck cramp. Which wasn't hard to do.
Daniel's voice trickled in, but through a fog...This is for Lucifer. Don't fuck this up. Actually, Luce? Uhm. Lucifer? Morningstar? If you can hear me, we're worried about you, Feathers. I really hope this is all just a paranoid reaction on our part, but we haven't heard from you all day, or Maze, either, actually. Can I pray at Maze? Nevermind, that's probably not a good idea. Your Dad doesn't seem to give a shit, so I'm leaving him out of this for now. I don't even know if this is working at all, but, if it is, please be okay. Call or something if you can, okay, Luce? I'm gonna try Az, next, so seriously, if everything is fine, please please please just pop in here before I ring up the Angel of Death. No? Drat. I should have written this down first. Lucifer, everything is fine, right? Please be okay. Right. Okay, your sister-
And then it cut off.
It had been a long time since anyone prayed to him. At least one that he paid attention to and wasn't batshit crazy. Not that Daniel didn't sound a bit off. A smile threatened his mouth before he clamped it down. His captors didn't need to know about it.
He couldn't pretend to be wholly unaffected. It was a physical relief to hear a friendly voice, to know they finally figured out something had happened. He threw a look at his looming overseer, who may or may not have tensed up. Hard to tell in those heavy robes.
Which meant there was no ransom note. Or at least not one sent to the precinct. Daniel or Chloe would have been made aware of it, even if they weren't permitted to act due to personal conflict, and it sounded like Chloe was nearby. Possibly a ransom request had been sent to Amenadiel, depending on if they were aware of anything else they shouldn't be aware of. Perhaps there was no note at all, but knew to pray to specific angels and were working with one. Who would go through humans though to do this?
He desperately wanted to fidget.
Maze was missing too. Did that mean they had her in a separate place? She would be easier to hold then he. If they were smart, they'd keep her unconscious. Was she a guinea pig for his circle set up? Daniel was right, she can't receive prayers - she might be alone and without even that much contact.
He decided to dub the attendant in front of him 'Tim' since he wasn't feeling particularly creative at the moment and had no other context. He looked up until he was sure Tim was looking at him again. "Where am I?"
Tim cocked his head slightly. "You don't know?"
That made him shiver. Should he know? He looked up and around again for more clues. Underground. Candles. Wide space. Probably still in California judging by the color of the rocks down here, but Mexico was possible too. There might be some salt in the open air as well, which was often assumed to have a depressing effect on the supernatural. Sometimes it actually did. He was immune to such paltry party tricks. Maze wasn't though.
He frowned down at his Lord. "It must be working better than we thought it would."
"Hm. I must be in an older Satanist temple. Your lot didn't like to advertise who they bowed down to, did they? Got it all wrong by the way, Father doesn't like sharing. Even if I cared about Dad's opinion, I'm generally opposed to being worshipped. Granted, I don't exactly feel that I'm being deferred to right now." He pulled out his best seductive smile, searching the cloak hood for any glint of eyes at all, but it seemed Tim's entire face was completely covered. No harm in trying anyway. "I'm all alone down here, apparently helpless, and I'm clearly not going anywhere any time soon. Darling, why don't you take just a little pity on me and give me a tiny hint about what all this nonsense is for? You keep calling me Lord, do you serve me or not?"
Tim actually took half a step back. "I'm sorry, Lord. Your restraint is necessary to keep you in the ritual as cast. But all this is being done for the betterment-" he stopped, his breath stuttering sharply and slapped himself. Actually did it, the dull smack of his hand on cloth echoing roughly in the hollowed out cave or whatever this was. Lucifer got the impression that his mouth flattened in a grim line as he tensed up again and bowed to Lucifer at the waist. "I'm sorry, Lord."
"If you aren't yet, you will be. At least tell me how long I am to be here."
"Until the ritual is complete."
"Oddly enough, I'm not seeing anyone else standing around chanting."
"Of our members, I'm the most resistant, in theory, to your powers."
"And why is that?"
"I"d rather not say. You've met some people from time to time who are that way, yes?"
Chloe. Daniel. Probably others too. People he commonly referred to as 'complicated' though less complex humans didn't have same level of resistance. It wasn't a light switch. He didn't volunteer names.
"You have, then."
Lucifer huffed. "I don't suppose you'll be telling me which codswallop, bullshit, fairy dust spell you're attempting to cast?"
"Not I. It's a banish-" The figure straightened again, holding himself up. "I should go now. Perhaps I underestimated your ability to overcome the dampening effects of...this."
Lucifer twisted in place again, to try and get a better view of what the script wrote out. "Banishment? You're trying to banish me? To where?" Balls. He knew. He fought his bonds again, nearly falling over in the process. "I won't stay there, you know. Your efforts are for naught. I can leave as soon as you send me. Nary a millisecond will pass before I'm back here and tearing your entire stupid wine-and-book club apart!"
Tim shrugged.
"You have a plan for that, do you? Whatever it is, you're wrong. Horrifically."
Tim twitched a bit at that. Oh, perhaps a tinge of pride he could coax out? He was nothing if not a sin detective. Lucifer went on, blowing on the embers of a possibility, words nearly spitting out of his mouth. "Whatever you think you can do, it won't take. I can only be harmed by Hell-forged blades, or as you recently deduced, a consort being present. You obviously have neither, since I'm still here. You must know me well enough to be aware that I don't lie, so I'm telling you that you've made a grave error in your limited judgment, you inferior excuse for one of Dad's beloved creations!"
"I am not His creation. I renounced Him, as you have!"
Lucifer felt his ire rising with internal heat. He still had access to some deep core of Hell-power. "That changes not the circumstances of your birth. That makes you His, whether you like it or not. We're both in that boat, my idiotic friend. Whatever you think you're doing, you'll not escape me once you perish. I'll be visiting your cell personally. Often. Maybe I'll just move in for a few thousand years."
"You don't know who I am!"
He felt his eyes start to burn and let them slowly brighten as he spoke. He may not have his full form, but he had this. "Oh, but I do know you. I know the taste of your soul. Even with that absurd talisman you stuffed in my throat, I'd find you again. Perhaps, perhaps not on Earth if you leave right now and never return, oh but I will find you in Hell. Maybe not immediately, I may not know it when you arrive, but I'll look for you after a suitable period of time has passed. Your aura is like a thumbprint, only more distinctive, more like your DNA itself. If anyone told you you'd be hidden from me by a stupid mask, perhaps you and they should have a chat with my Demon."
"Only God knows-"
Lucifer shouted in interruption, "you suddenly sound like a simpering priest. Dad knows everything - or claims it so, anyway. That doesn't mean I or my brethren lack talents."
A door opened. He was running out of time to make this useful. "There's not a damn thing you can do here and now to keep me from coming back and hunting you down. In Hell, I can get out of this sodding holiday roast dressing in seconds and return for my vengeance."
Tim snapped, "That's going to be difficult after your wings are carved off!