City of Sin
Obsession I
***Once more, I own nothing of the show Lucifer or comics etc. ***
*Follow me on Twitter at AngelSlayer135 for, hopefully, more frequent status updates.
***CoS***
Soft skin, exploring fingers, whispered words of lust and something more.
Memories of her morning, and most of the afternoon, spent with her best friend continued being the focal point of Ella Lopez' world. Every night she dreamed of their time together, every morning she would wake up with drenched panties.
It was even worse during the day. She couldn't concentrate on anything, ranging from hobbies to work, and when she finally did sit down and put her mind to a task, she often found herself daydreaming moments later. The worst, however, was at the precinct.
How many times had she thought about sending Chloe a text about meeting in the bathroom? How many messages had she typed out, only to hastily delete because, 'want to fuck in the evidence storage room?' was not an appropriate thing to say to a colleague.
Even if there was a slight chance the blonde would take her up on it, maybe even push her down onto her knees and order her to…
Shaking her head, Ella let out a deep sigh before checking herself in the rearview mirror of her car one more time. She had been delaying the start of her shift long enough, not a big deal since she always arrived early anyway and opted to make her way towards her lab.
She was sure what her actual relationship with Chloe was.
Friends?
Friends with benefits?
Something weird that didn't go with normal labels and involved at least Lucifer, and probably Trixie as well?
That last thought had her pausing for a moment in the hallway, luckily with no one else around. When her lover had asked about sending a teasing photo to the dancer, Ella should have been a bit wary, should have probably asked not to be included or maybe been a bit upset about the interruption. Instead, she had volunteered to take the photos and send them along with flirty messages that couldn't possibly be seen as anything but.
It was just… so easy being with Chloe. There weren't any expectations or demands, no judgment for having a certain kink or desire. There weren't any demands for follow ups, no constant text messages, or pseudo stalking.
It was what the Hispanic woman always pictured when she thought of being in love.
That single word stopped her cold. Love? No, no that wasn't right, she certainly wasn't in love with her best friend who she had spent the better portion of the day completely naked with and whose kind words and warm smile were the biggest reason for staying at her job in a place that didn't appreciate her or…
Shit…
Shit fuck damn bitch piss whore bastard and every other profanity she could conjure in English or Spanish.
Turning, she rammed her face into the wall, enough to probably leave her forehead red for the better part of an hour.
When had that happened? No, no it couldn't happen. Chloe was in a relationship with the Lucifer Morningstar. She had a fucking stripper, who could be on modeling shoots, practically begging to sleep with her. There was no reason, no need, for the blonde to pick up a useless stray like herself.
Ella couldn't, wouldn't, get attached. Not when the outcome was so obviously Chloe finding someone better. She would continue their relationship as they had before, a friend and confidant. Naturally, if the blonde even hinted at wanting something sexual Ella would be there with lingerie and whatever other kinky things her BFF so much as hinted at but that was just a natural reaction.
With that life-changing decision made the technician continued to her designated space, glancing for only a moment at the empty desk that her friend sat at.
Odd, Chloe was almost always at work by now. The only times she hadn't been was when a case would come up early and she was needed at a crime scene. Had the blonde been relieved of her bullshit desk duty?
The problem now was she didn't really have anyone to ask. Her boss was still being a 'Grade A' asshole and most of the other officers wouldn't give her the time of day unless she was working on something for them, and ensuring their results were priority.
Still, there was one possible person she could turn to that, despite past differences, she couldn't imagine withholding information.
"Hey Dan, any idea where Chloe's at?"
The man, who had been busy staring at his computer screen, barely gave her a glance before returning his attention to the glowing square, "Probably still at the hospital." It had been said so nonchalantly, like how someone might say 'oh they are running an errand' or 'yeah they were grabbing coffee on the way in' that Ella had nodded in acknowledgement before her mind caught up to what had been said a moment later.
"Wait, you said 'hospital'? What is she doing there, is she visiting someone?" Okay, so it wasn't a logical assumption, but she was grasping at straws to stave off a potential panic attack. No one casually 'visited' a hospital.
Dan, either unaware or uncaring about his response, shook his head, "No."
Waiting, for an explanation that was apparently not about to follow, Ella gave up half a minute later. "Is she okay? What happened? Is she sick? Does she need anything? What can I…"
"Ella, chill alright? She's probably still in surgery so there's no need to get all flustered about it."
Surgery
That meant something far more serious than, 'a cold that won't go away'.
"Wh-what is she getting surgery for?" At this point Ella's voice was barely a whisper, struggling not to break further than it already was.
The man sighed, as if giving a medical update was such an inconvenient interruption for whatever useless task he was performing. "The gunshot wounds Ella, alright? Look she's in surgery so it will all be fine."
"All be fine!? What the fuck Dan!? Why aren't you at the hospital with her?" She knew that there was animosity between the formerly married couple, but this was beyond acceptable.
How could you hate your former wife so much that you didn't care whether she lived or died?
This actually did earn his attention, and a scowl, "I'm not married to her Ella remember? I have more important things to do than wasting time sitting around in a waiting room while waiting on someone that I'm not even dating. I'm working on a big case right now. Speaking of which do you…" He trailed off as the woman he had been speaking to turned and stormed off towards the exit, "Hey, where are you going?" He called after her as she reached the door.
"I am going to check on my best friend."
"B-but what about my…"
"Sorry, I have more important things to do than waste my time on someone that I'm not even dating." She repeated, before running off towards her car.
***CoS***
Trixie frowned down at the number that lit up on her cell. Generally, she had a rule of not answering any call that she didn't recognize, but there had also been more than a few shakeups of her social circle lately. Maybe Chloe had gotten a new phone or was using a number given to her by the police force.
Either way she didn't want to risk missing something important, and answered a second later, "Hello?"
"Trixie? It's Ella, Chloe's friend."
There was something in the woman's tone that had the dancer pausing to answer. She sounded stressed, and the background noise made it seem as if…
"GET OUT OF THE WAY YOU FUCKING JACKASS!" The lab technician screamed, horn blaring loud enough that Beatrice had to move the device from her ear for a second.
"Ella? What's wrong?"
"Chloe is in the hospital."
"Wh-what is…"
"She was shot, I just found out and I'm driving there now. I'll text you back as soon as I know more or have a room number I just… I know you two are close and I don't have Lucifer's number so I thought I could let you both know and I just…"
Trixie was frozen, dread pooling in her chest at what had been said.
Hospital? Shot!? Who? When? Why?
"Trixie?"
"Y-yeah yeah I'm… okay I'm on my way. Let me know when you have a room."
"I will, promise."
The call cut off, and Beatrice was stuck in a room too far away from her best friend who was potentially dying. The world blurred around her as everything seem to fade away into unimportance. She needed to move, to scream and run to her car and just plow everything out of the way until she was at the blonde's side. But her body wouldn't move, wouldn't react, wouldn't obey.
"Beatrice?"
A voice pierced through the fog, ripping her back from despair and returning control over her body enough to look into the concerned eyes of her employer. "Poppet, is something wrong?"
He didn't know, which made sense. If Ella had just found out, then he likely wouldn't yet. She should break the news gently, diminish the shock value.
She was shot
The phrase rang out once more in her head. There wasn't time for slow and gentle. "Chloe's been shot, she's at the hospital."
Something was wrong.
Wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong.
A feeling in the air, a crack of something unnatural, hairs standing up on the back of your neck, a strange scent flooding the room, a red glow from somewhere she couldn't explain or place.
But it was wrong, wrong enough that if there wasn't already adrenaline pumping through her veins and something else to focus on then she might have curled up in a corner and sobbed. Lucifer was completely still, before his eyes focused in on her a moment later, cutting through her like a blade.
"When"
Trixie shrunk back in fear. It was a tone she had never heard before, like an animal roar mixed with a gunshot. "I-I don't know. Ella… Ch-Chloe's friend, she just called me, just found out and…"
His attention shifted, and somehow Maze was now standing next to her, rage contorting her face in a way the dancer had never seen before.
If she didn't know better Trixie would have said that it looked like a completely different person, a different thing.
"I will be taking Beatrice with me to the hospital." Said woman immediately ran to change clothes, barely hearing the end of the conversation as she exited the room.
"I'll drive." The dark-skinned woman volunteered but was halted a moment later by his voice.
"No."
"But I…" Never had Mazikeen talked back to the Devil. Never had any demon ever questioned or argued with their Lord. It was blasphemous, as unnatural to them as they were to humanity.
Like an Angel defying God
Luckily for her existence Lucifer seemed to understand and opted not to eradicate her on the spot. "Find out who did this. Hunt them down and bring them here. Once you do that you may join us."
The demoness looked ready to argue, but her shoulders drooped a moment later and she nodded in submission. "As you command."
She turned but was stopped one more time. "Intact Mazikeen. I have plans for those who dare strike at my Queen."
***CoS***
What the actual fuck had those morons been thinking!?
Charlotte Richards paced back and forth, hands messing through her hair one moment, then slamming down on her desk the next. Through her many contacts she had gotten word of the shooting of a police officer.
Chloe Decker
She had no doubt that her client had taken her concerns about Decker too far and opted to try and remove the problem entirely. Did those idiots have any idea what they had done!? It was one thing to threaten a witness, to discredit a politician or bribe an officer.
But shooting a cop? The entire fucking L.A.P.D would be on this case now! Did those rich assholes not understand what they had brought down upon themselves, upon her? She would be linked to them in days, if not sooner. Then all their lives would be put under the microscope and ripped apart.
A corrupt cop or two, a few minor bribes, some assaulted witnesses? All of these were the problems of just one individual. But if one of their own was targeted?
They had just become priority number one.
Charlotte had to do something, anything to save her own skin. If her clients wanted to commit suicide that was their own damn business, but she sure as fuck wasn't going to be putting the gun in her mouth as well.
So, what now? She couldn't just distance herself from them, she was their lawyer after all, and if she didn't handle this correctly who was to say they wouldn't retaliate against her as well? No, she needed to take them out of the game entirely to ensure her own survival from both sides. She wasn't supposed to break attorney-client privilege, but this went beyond measly ethics.
It might end her career, but at least she would be alive.
Continuing to pace, Charlotte let out another muttered string of swear words.
***CoS***
The car ride had been tense and silent, Beatrice caught between wanting to cry, scream in anger, and curl up into a small corner to hide. Regardless of how she felt, of what rage she might have towards someone who had hurt the most important person in her life, she was absolutely certain it paled in comparison to that of the man driving them.
Trixie had never seen her employer angry before.
Annoyed? Yes
Irritated? Yes
A bit peeved at an interruption? Sure
But truly wrathful? Not even close.
Body language was the key, as she had learned through years of experience. Small twitches in his hands, a narrowed gaze, an uptight and tense posture, and the frown that was somewhere between sad and overly exaggerated. All signs of what was billowing beneath the surface of his perfect features. More than any of this though was the silence. Lucifer Morningstar was not a quiet man. He was loud and made his opinions known regardless of what they were. He was of the opinion, or so she gathered, that subterfuge and hidden emotions were for those whose job revolved around such things.
This man was not one of those people.
Pulling into the hospital parking, the man made no effort of driving around to find an empty spot, as one might do, instead just picking one reserved for executives. Trixie wasn't sure if he had chosen it out of spite, unconcern, or if he actually was one of the owners but opted not to inquire further.
Bolting from the car she sprinted inside, ignoring angry calls for her to slow down. She wasn't sure where to go, hadn't received any messages from Ella, and was utterly at a loss. Luckily, she had met the young woman before and picked up on her presence at the nearby reception desk.
"Look" the lab tech growled, hands planted solidly on the surface before her, "I understand what you are saying but my friend is back there, hurt, and I just want a fucking update on her condition."
It was a glare that might have sent weaker individuals running, but the receptionist was an older woman, and apparently made of steel, "And I am telling you that unless you are a family member, or hold power of attorney, we do not disclose information on patients to anyone much less someone's 'friend'."
"Ella"
The woman turned, tears obvious in her eyes and despair covering her facial features. Beatrice understood immediately, she felt helpless, useless even, and it was only adding to everything else that was being forced upon her.
Without thinking she pulled her into a hug, allowing the sobbing to be muffled by her body. "I-I'm sorry I couldn't get any info. I couldn't…"
"It's okay, I promise."
Neither noticed the man walking up to the desk, save for the woman seated behind it, whose eyes instantly roved up and down his form. "Can I help you mister…"
"Morningstar. Chloe Decker's room number and an update on her status."
"Are you family sir?"
"No"
The receptionist hardened once more, "Then as I informed the other woman, we don't…"
"Does it look like I care?" There was an edge to his voice, one that had everyone in the area flinching back. Emotions warred on the seated woman's face, until another male interrupted.
"Is something wrong here?"
Lucifer turned, and noted the doctor's uniform and identification card. "Chloe Decker, her room and condition, now."
A moment passed, before the man's eyes widened in recognition. "I… didn't recognize you mister Morningstar sir, I apolo…"
"I won't repeat myself again."
"Y-yes, yes of course sir right this way."
Lucifer gestured towards the two women to follow, much to the shock of the other staff nearby. As they walked away, he called back, same hardened tone as before, "You might want to memorize the names of your wards."
Puzzled, the receptionist glanced over at the list, and then promptly paled when she saw 'Morningstar' as one of the main benefactors.
***CoS***
"I am very sorry about that sir, sometimes our staff can be a bit overzealous." The doctor attempted a laugh to relieve tension, but none of the other three so much as smiled at the gesture. "Uhm, yes well like I was saying Miss Decker is still in surgery. From there she will be kept in recovery until we are sure that the danger of infection or internal bleeding are passed."
"Where was she shot?" Ella immediately inquired, earning the man's attention for the first time. "Oh, uhm well let me see here…" They reached one of the more private rooms and he took a clipboard from a plastic holder on the wall. Skimming over it the man remained silent, mouthing a few words to himself as she shuffled between pages, frowning as he did so. After a minute, the youngest woman gave up on waiting, and promptly snatched the chart from him.
"Two gunshot wounds, one entered her back, exited out of her chest, through and through. The second ricocheted off a rib after passing through her arm. Major internal bleeding, first shot damaged her right lung, second missed any major organs. Amount of blood loss…" She continued reading off, years of schooling allowing her to understand and analyze the report effortlessly. "Full recovery likely, but recovery time will vary from three months to a year."
The doctor shifted uncomfortably, "She is expected to be out of surgery in the next hour or two. Perhaps it would be more comfortable if…"
"Two more chairs," Lucifer answered, as if he had been asked. "And replace the ones in here with a more comfortable version."
"I uhm… well I will have a nurse…"
"You" The Devil growled, and the man hastily nodded in understanding. "Yes, yes of course I will just be a second." Minutes later he returned, wheeling in two, considerably more padded, seating arrangements. Then departed to find two more.
***CoS***
The police were, as usual, completely useless. Hacking into their system gave barely information other than the location Chloe had been shot. They had no leads, no witnesses, no forensic evidence of value, and no suspects.
Amateurs, at best. Maze had always understood why mortals were not allowed to hunt down any wayward souls, but this was a painfully obvious confirmation. Making her way to the scene the demoness knelt, rubbing her fingers into a blood stain before touching it to her tongue. Definitely the blonde's, and the thought lit a flame of rage inside of her.
Though she may be destined to be the future Queen of Hell, it still felt like Chloe belonged to her. They had shared something, a connection she had never felt with anyone, or anything, else. Being with her, touching her, being touched by her, and just watching her get fucked was the most arousing, world defining event of her extensive existence.
And now? Now someone was trying to take that away from her, from them, and this frightened her. She knew, deep down, that Chloe was still a good person, and if she passed away would be forever beyond their reach in the Silver City. Despite everything that was going on there was little chance Lucifer would start a full war against Heaven, even if it meant trying to retrieve the blonde.
Mazikeen walked through the apartment, allowing herself a few moments to bask in the woman's scent and belongings. They needed to move her out of her, to somewhere safe and close. This shithole wasn't nice enough to be the blonde's toilet, much less her home and the thought that this might be the last place she would have lived at…
Shaking her head, the demon focused on the task at hand, if nothing else but to prevent her from going on a killing spree. It was a bad neighborhood, which meant that the other tenants were not likely to talk with cops.
But they would talk to her, she would make sure of it.
***CoS***
The King of Hell looked down at his phone, eyes unblinking as he read over the last text message again and again.
She wanted to know everything. he knew she would but figured it would take longer for her to make the leap. The thought of explaining, of the truth, it worried him for some odd reason. He shouldn't be, he was the Devil after all, but even the ruler of Hell, and most of Earth at this point, couldn't bend free will.
If she was going to be his future Queen, it had to be her choice. There wasn't enough time though, not enough to watch her part ways with the old, decaying world and join him in a place where morality was based on perspective rather than what others enforced. If she found out today, would she be horrified or just terrified?
He needed more time, more time with her to show the woman just what he could offer her. Who needed a job when he could give her a throne? Who would care about coworkers when she could have a harem the size of a city? Who needed friends when she could take them as lovers and consorts? Why would she need to follow the law if it would change based on her mood?
Time, that was all they needed, and it might just be the one thing he runs out of.
***CoS***
Beatrice tried her best to hold in the sob when the nurses wheeled the bed in, but it wasn't easy. Her best friend was strapped down, I.V.s attached to her arms, wires connecting her to machines that followed closely behind, and looking paler than she had ever seen anyone.
Next to her, Ella looked just as devastated, and stood as if to help but remained silent and frozen.
"Family?" One nurse inquired to those in the room, with Beatrice hesitantly stepping forward. Okay, so she wasn't exactly related, but they had been practically sisters growing up and the blonde had no other living family at this point. Seemingly content with the answer the woman grabbed a pack of papers from the bottom of the bed. "She will be out for at least the rest of the day, probably most of tomorrow too. We have basic instructions written down for when she is released. I wanted to make sure someone had them early just in case you need to make arrangements."
"Arrangements?" Ella parroted, fear creeping up her spine at the word. That term was usually meant for funerals in their world.
Seeing the distress, or perhaps hearing it, the nurse quickly corrected her. "For her recovery. The doctors won't want her moving around too much or doing anything strenuous. No stairs, no standing showers, no uneven surfaces, or anything that might cause her to fall. She's also going to need a softer diet for at least a month after she is released."
This time it was the man who stepped in, "Any idea of when that will be?"
"It depends on her to be honest. It might be a week or two, it might be six months. Everyone heals at a different rate."
***CoS***
Finding the first connection was easy. Sure, Chloe's neighbors might not want to talk to cops, but a sexy woman in leather? Her creep a few doors down was more than happy to let her inside. Their time together probably didn't go quite as he thought it would, what with the whole slicing off a few fingers thing, but she got her answers regardless.
A cop had been seen snooping around the area, and not the one who lived in the apartment. This one was shady, shady enough that he almost looked like he belonged there, and probably had been engaging in one illegal activity or another in the neighborhood. There weren't any cameras, but at least Maze had somewhere to start, and was one step closer to finishing up her task and being able to join them at the hospital.
Seriously, Lilith might be an incompetent bitch, but she could at least track down one stupid human, why not make her do this?
She should be with her Lord, watching over their future Queen, making sure she was safe, comfortable, protected. Going through the L.A.P.D.'s roster had been a simple task, the cops never did have any awareness of what went on inside their own building.
A handful of officers had been on duty, and thus monitored, during the incident. They were all off the hook. That only left a small group to go through. Take out the females and it was an even shorter list. Glancing over the photos she immediately stopped on two in particular.
She vaguely remembered them now from Lux, both creepy older guys who had nothing better to do than leer at women and try to con free drinks out of patrons and staff with a flash of their badges.
So, the question remained, was it the gross ass ex-husband, or the maggot he was working with?
***CoS***
Espinoza had been easy to track down. He was hanging around one of the law firms in town like a lost little stalker, occasionally looking up at the building before making an unanswered phone call. Maze frowned, this certainly didn't absolve him of anything, he could just as easily have been trying to find a lawyer for his crimes, but he didn't smell of blood or gunpowder. His gun was also unfired, a fully loaded clip and perfectly cleaned.
Did he have a backup that he had used? Possible, but the man was clearly not the sharpest knife in the armory. Instead of pursuing him further she made a note of the number he was dialing, because it was painful how unaware humans could be of her presence, and the name he whined when the only answer he received was an automated message.
Once more she departed to find her prey, and once more she tracked them down with ruthless intent. Graham was a bit more challenging for a hunt, but not by much. The man had left town, grabbed a bag of clothes, a suitcase full of money, and sped off into the sunset.
Or at least that was what he had tried to do, but cars pale in comparison to the speed of a demon, especially one on the hunt. She caught up to him at a crappy motel on the border of Washington. Words were not exchanged, although he had unloaded a full magazine from his pistol when she had kicked in the door.
Guns, such a trivial human invention. Make a small explosion and push a piece of metal through a hole and hope it hits something. But his had hit something, hadn't it? The previous evening that pathetic little man had used the weapon against her lover, against the future Queen of Hell.
The object was crushed in his hand, and she had to fight the urge to begin ripping him apart moments later. Oh, how easy it would be, tear out his eyes, break his fingers, shatter bones, cut muscles, bash skin, torture, hurt, pain, agony.
But her Lord had made his command, and while she had been foolish enough to question the first, she was not blood-drunk enough to ignore the second. Instead, a strike to the throat had him on the floor, gagging. From there it was a simple task to drag him out by his leg and into the trunk of her car.
As she made her way back towards the driver seat, she paused for just a moment considering the logistics of car-sex with Chloe before the reality of the situation returned to her and she slammed the door behind her. If this bastard killed her Queen, then Hell will be a paradise compared to what she would do to him.
***CoS***
A buzzing in his pocket alerted Lucifer to an incoming call, from his lieutenant based upon the pattern. Excusing himself, and trusting Chloe's two closest friends to keep watch, the man went into the private bathroom.
"Report"
"Found him."
"Name?"
"Malcolm Graham, that creep who was partnered with her douchey ex."
Memories flashed as he recalled the meeting, "Ah yes, the one with the death wish." He can practically hear her smirk and confirming nod. "You've brought him in then?"
"Of course, he's chained up in your favorite cell."
"Wonderful. Summon Lilith, once she is there and watching him you may join us."
A sigh of something, relief perhaps, or maybe annoyance at another task, sounds from her end but she confirms the order and hangs up. Turning, the Devil pauses at the woman standing in the doorway, staring at him with such a blank gaze that he isn't quite sure what she will say.
He is impressed, to say the least.
"On your phone, that was one of your people?"
He nods, "Mazikeen, you have likely met her."
"And the person, he is the one who shot Chloe?"
"Yes, at the very least him. We will be looking for a connection to others as well." There was no doubt in his mind that Maze was correct, she would never fail at such an assignment.
Ella pauses, and glances back at the, still sleeping, blonde. "You aren't going to turn him into the police, are you?"
"No"
This time she nods, but it is in understanding rather than confirming. "Make sure it hurts."
***CoS***
A/N: I am not a doctor or a medical student, I have literally no experience in giving estimated recovery times from gunshot wounds. In all likelihood, two major injuries should take years if not longer to completely heal but for the sake of the story I would rather it not. Plus, in the television show both Chloe and Lucifer are shot and make full recoveries in what seems like weeks or months, hours for Lucifer, but no one seems shocked by that fact.