Chapter 39: Beginning of the End
A quick hand snatched up the burner phone from where it had rested for the last week. Natalie flipped it open to a wall of angry text from the worst boss in history. She rolled her eyes and stuffed the device back into her pocket. Nothing from Evan yet. She went back down to the club to over-see practice and wait.
Lucifer had been met at the airport by the detective with a new case. Decker made it a point to whisper as softly as she could. Their truce-ship wasn't friendly enough to warrant mixing work with play. Only for meeting up at random to drain the top-shelf of Lux with the tribe-squad. Natalie had left the two to their heroic antics.
Maze, however, was still at Lux. She watched Natalie with a blank stare. An unnerving blank stare. Natalie very much doubted that Lucifer's attempts to pacify the bounty-hunter had worked. Retribution would most likely be swift.
His over-confidence was going to get him kill someday. Although Natalie did not have any ground with which to criticize. Lucky, the wait for retribution wasn't long. When Natalie tried to enter the backroom, a small metal bucket fell over her head. A month's supply of nacho cheese sauce slowly dripped to the floor.
Maze's roaring laughter came close, and a firm hand clapped down on Natalie's shoulder. A kind squeeze passed between them, before the laughter returned to the bar. Natalie loudly announced she was going home, and laughter filled the entire bar. It followed her down the street. It followed through the subway.
Until she stopped outside her and Evan's door. In truth, she had returned out of habit. She dug the phone of out her pocket and checked again for messages. A hand came up to knock, but hesitation won out. With little else to be done about it, she leaned her head against the door instead. It was a long Monday after such a fabulous, if odd, week.
"Damn, you look like absolute shit."
Natalie's head came back up and she turned to see Evan standing in the hall. His bright red "Books are Cool!" shopping bag was filled with snacks and cookies. He jangled his keys as a request for her to step aside so he could unlock it. With slow steady movements, she stepped back, a small bit of sauce left on the door in her wake. A soft chuckle came from the young man as he opened the door.
"Well, come on, go shower and then we can talk. You're not sitting on the couch covered in that crap."
She nodded and made her way to the bathroom. A quick rinse later, she was on the couch. Evan sat in the plushy chair and chewed over his questions.
"So, what... what did you do? At the concert?"
"I don't really know," she responded honestly, "but it didn't hurt anyone. I'm sorry that I scared you."
He sighed before he started again, "Living with you is hard sometimes. I know you won't hurt me, at least not on purpose, but that's the problem, Nat. You've been getting more and more out of control lately."
She opened her mouth to reassure him, but he promptly cut her off.
"No. Don't deny it. I know about the whispers. Before the concert, you were tracking the Pale Ones way too quick to not have some new trick. And you have muttered in your sleep for as long as I've known you. What is going on? What's really going on, Natalie? Please."
"I... The..." She had no idea how to explain. So she opted to babble. "I'm getting older, growing. It's like how plants change and morph to adapt as they grow. Or a cat that learns to fish and dig and climb after living in a cage. It's getting stronger, but so am I. I just... I don't know how it'll happen. I don't know what comes next. Evan, I...
I'm really scared. What if I do lose control? What if I hurt you? What if you get hurt because I couldn't protect you? What if ... I keep scaring you?" She finished in a vulnerable, broken whisper.
"You're scared, too?"
She gave a harsh bark of laughter. "Oh, out of my fucking mind. But, I don't want to give up, and I don't want to hide. I'm done with hiding."
"Okay, then, we'll be more careful. We'll find a way to help you learn to control it."
"We?" She asked hopefully.
"Yes, we. It's hard to stay mad at your fairy god mother, even if she's scary as hell sometimes. I wasn't even really mad. I was just scared. I've seen you do some weird shit, but nothing like that. I'm glad no one was hurt. It helped me feel better about the whole thing. What else has been happening?"
"I think I'm hearing the hive's thoughts. Like muttering in the distance, or that sound that comes out of the television when it's muted."
"That's how you found them so fast."
"How is the wedding planning going?" She asked in the following silence.
The silence between them harden until Evan sighed and gave up brainstorming for now.
"Fine. Devin is keeping a tight eye on the budget. He is of the opinion that since he's paying for most of it, he gets final say. Sure my opinion is important but I don't like being vetoed over my own wedding."
With the topic effectively shifted, Natalie and Evan talked and joked as though the concert had never happened. When Natalie's small phone made a shrill ringing, she lamented agreeing to come back from Venice at all. She should have taken Lucifer up on his joking offer to run away from it all. With the enthusiasm a slug stuck in tar, she flipped the phone open.
"What?" She asked sharply.
"Which part of 'call me when you're back in the country' did you not understand?"
"I had some things to take care of."
"Like your ongoing tonsil hockey game with that club-owner."
"Aw, I didn't take you for the jealous type. I imagine Ella is a riot in the sheets if her ramblings at margarita night are anything to go by."
"I'm not out to discuss my sex life with you, I just need you to do the damn job I pay you for. Even if I seem to be the only one concerned with carrying out our deal."
"All I'm hearing is complaints, not jobs."
"Airport, tomorrow, noon. I'm sure you remember the gala. So be a good girl, and go fetch my slippers."
"Woof Woof." She snarled back before hanging up on "Sinner man".
0-0 0-0 0-0
Natalie strolled out of the customs locker with no regard for who saw her. The wrapped monstrosity she carried brought back sour memories. Of all the ill-rotted things to smuggle into the country, the sheer gall of "Sinner Man" to have her bring him this. She was tempted to throw the blasted thing in the ocean, agreements be damned. Had she known it still existed before now, she would have joyfully destroyed it.
She always thought the rumors were about fakes. While she knew that the officers at the airport had all been paid off to look the other way, she still wished that someone, anyone, would stop her. She never wanted this abomination on her half of the world.
As if the fortunes had finally heard her pleas, Lucifer was coming toward the customs office. More importantly, the forever nosy Decker was with him. With a cocky smirk, Natalie shifted her long, narrow bundle onto her shoulder. Direct eye contact and a mocking salute caused a familiar twitch in Decker's eye.
"Natalie Varquez. How odd to find you here. Strange package."
"Note-worthy, indeed. It's a wedding gift for Evan." She responded dryly. With a smug look that screamed of mischief, Natalie rose up on her toes and pressed a quick kiss to Lucifer's cheek before changing her pace to a more relaxed stroll. Not slow enough to attract attention, but enough to hope that if Decker is clever; she may catch up.
Her hopes were for not, as she climbed into the blue sedan and Evan began the final leg of the journey. Natalie shuddered to think what someone like "Sinner Man" would want with the Spear of Longinus. The drive was long. Slow traffic left time to think, to plan, to brainstorm with Evan. Christenson had been brought down with force, "Sinner man" would require greater caution.
'And a very good prison.' She thought, bitterly.
When they arrived at the newest hideout, Natalie sent Evan home and took the spear up alone. Another abandoned office building, another boardroom, and another flirtatious grin for the well muscled men that guarded the door. "Sinner man" was sitting comfortably, dark forest green shirt pulled achingly tight. He had to be doing this on purpose. She chewed her lip and wondered if he knew how he looked.
"My slippers?" He asked.
Oh, he knew. That dark tone told her the truth. He knew she looked. He knew what made her look. His smug smirk of confidence made her hand itch to slap him.
With a cruel smirk of her own, she walked half way across the room. When she was level with the large bag on the table, she tossed the spear on the table. It clanked across the table like a common walking stick. The clatter stopped when it rested in front of him. The smirk had been wiped of his face just as effectively as if she had followed that itch.
Her response was poisonously sweet, "Of course, Cinnabun."
"What did you just call me?"
"Cinnabun. I started thinking about calling you Sinner boy, and it devolved from there."
There was a pause as his face changed between shock, to outrage, until it settled on a cold shell. He calmly rose from the chair, shifted the spear out of his way, and walked across the room, to meet her at the halfway point. She kept her smirk despite her tone. The next movement was quick, for a human, but the movement of a human nonetheless. His hand came up and he stepped into the movement to slam her against the nearby wall by her throat.
"Am I a fucking joke to you?" He hissed at her. "I've dealt with others like you before."
The grip was tight enough that thoughts of a different hand came to mind. The momentary fantasy of long fingers and dark eyes caused her to let her head fall back against the wall. She didn't muffle the soft moan that followed.
"Tighter."
"What?" He asked, confusion returning.
Her hand lashed out to pull his head to hers. His grip didn't falter, but his confusion had made his lips pliant. Warm, responsive to near violence, she kissed him breathless before resting his forehead against her own.
"If you're going to choke me, Marcus," she said in a low, demanding tone, "you need to make your grip tighter."
The sound of a strangled moan came from him before his grip tightened. He stepped fully into her space. Pressed between him and the wall, she nipped his bottom lip before he crashed them back down to hers. Her imagination ran wild. She pressed back harder.
Rather than the abandoned office, she was pinned against one of the Sumerian pillars in the penthouse above Lux. The faint sounds of goons and gunshots became whispers of traffic and the coo of the record player. The illusion was shattered in short order when a door opened and closed. The body against her stepped away and she turned to look. One of the massive door guards had entered and cleared his throat.
"Next meeting is here, boss."
A swift nod and a muttering of "Get out" were the only responses from the crime lord as he returned to his chair. Natalie looped a hand throw the strapped of the large bag and left.
0-0 0-0 0-0
Lucifer and the Detective received a bit of trouble from the customs officers. Despite having the paperwork from the station to verify the transfer, it wasn't until one of them received a call through the desk phone that the two of them were allowed to pass and collect Madam von Ger. When the matron saw the two of them she pointed a knobbly finger at Lucifer.
"You were with that bizarre harlot at my gala. How strange. Such a small world." Her attention turned to the detective, "I presume you are the detective known as 'Chloe Decker'?"
"Yes. I was told to come and check in on you. Rather unorthodox. I'm a homicide detective, not lawyer."
The older woman scoffed, "For a working woman, you are wildly naive. Enough police banquets will buy you almost anything in this country. To the task at hand, I was assured you were an 'annoying pure heart-ed optimist with an unfathomable sense of justice' who would see to it that my blackmailer would be stopped posthaste."
The detective gave Lucifer a questioning look and then turned back to the matron. "And who recommended me to you?"
"The 'Sinner Man''s pet mongrel, of course."
At the mention of the "Sinner Man" both Lucifer and the detective bristled.
"The charges against you are trafficking with intent to sell and enabling a criminal enterprise. We can cut a deal if you can help me prove the 'Sinner Man' is real."
"You'll have my full co-operation."
With a brief nod, the detective led the madam out to take her to the station. During the ride to the station, Lucifer attempted to talk with the madam, however she refused to speak with him. Since he was in the front of the car and the madam in the back, he wasn't able to meet her eye to eye.
Once the madam was seated and served a strong espresso, she began recounting her experiences. She explained how the "Sinner Man" had been attempting to force her to hand over the spear for years.
"It started after a charity ball in Chicago. A priest from the Vatican had come to discuss the spear with me. My family are some of the last descendants of the last Holy Roman Empire before the formation of Germany. The spear had been entrusted to the imperial family, only to be returned to the church with the coming of Judgment Day."
She paused and gave the two of them a stern look.
"I'm not a particularly religious person, and the spear has little value outside of select circles, assuming it even truly is the spear. So when the 'Sinner Man' finally found something to hold over me, I gave him what he wanted.
"I went to the family manor and collected the spear from the vaults. Everything went fine until I came into the L.A. airport and entered customs. I suspect my blackmailer to be involved, as they knew what they were looking for, took the spear from me and detained me. Then the harlot came in, took the spear, and advised me to ask for you.
"When I asked her if she knew what she was potentially giving that mad man, she had a bizarre expression and told me: 'You should have destroyed it when you had the chance.' Then she left."
The detective finished her notes and started to ask a question, but was cut off by Lucifer.
"Just a moment. Madam, when exactly did the blackmailing occur?"
"At my gala. That little harlot cornered me in the bathroom after the dance contest."
His vision turned red. It was made worse when the detective asked a follow-up question and confirmed his next suspicion. Natalie Varquez had walked past them carrying the spear that had killed his youngest brother. After using him to get access to the Madam. He was still trying to decide what to do when he followed the detective out of the room.
The detective twirled on her heel quickly to face him. Her hand came up in warning to him as she said in a low tone, "I am going to bring Natalie Varquez in. I know she can be a lot of fun, but Lucifer, this woman is dangerous, and she has to be stopped. I'm going to find out what she is up to, and bring her and the 'Sinner Man' to justice. I'm going to prove she's not this untouchable monster everyone thinks she is."
"As to be expected, Detective." He said with a greater calm than he felt.
"The madam only heard about me in the last couple hours, however the call into the station happened this morning. We need to find that call in the records. Who ever made it could be our best lead."
The record of the call was easy to find. An address for the number would most likely take till the next morning to find. Lucifer returned home, a quiet rage still nestled in his chest. He hadn't been since angry since he had learned of his family's attempts to pair him off.
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The hefty bag made a satisfying thud on the table. Evan's eyebrows nearly vanished into his hair line. He leaned forward and peaked into the bag. A soft chocking sound came from the young man.
In a faint voice, he asked, "Do I even want to know what you did to be paid that much cash at once?"
He was met with a scoff. "Nothing too horrible in the grand picture. Although, personally repulsive."
"Yep, don't want to know. What are you going to do with it?"
"It's yours, for the wedding."
Evan looked between Natalie and the bag. Confusion, gratitude, and horror all fought for a place in his expression. Natalie wrapped him in a hug. She whispered soft assurances that she would have had to do this regardless, and not to blame himself and just take the gift. With a nod and a sniffle, he complied and collected the bag to go and see their "banker".
With a muttering of "win some, lose some", Natalie opted to go over to Lux. The stack she had taken from the bag before coming home was burning a hole in her jacket pocket and she knew exactly how she wanted to spend it. Once she entered the club, she couldn't find Lucifer in the early crowd or at the piano. With a wave to the new bartender, she made her way to the penthouse elevator.
When she saw him reclined in his chair with a drink, looking out over the city, she smiled. She went over to the bar and pour herself a glass as she greeted him.
"Fancy seeing you twice in one day. I'm celebrating tonight, and I want to know if you wa-"
"Want to let you manipulate me again?" He cut in coldly.
"Wha-?"
"I know about the gala!" He roared.
Her eyes cut up to the mirror. She watched him carefully, half-frozen with fear. Fear that he'd turn and demand that she leave. "Look, I ca-"
"You took advantage of both mine and the madam's hospitality. I trusted you, and you used me. Was it all a sham then?"
"No." The swift firmness of her answer stopped his rant short. "No, I'll be the first to admit that my life is... complicated. Yes, I took advantage of a moment to complete an agreement. But that doesn't change anything else."
"So you admit to using me? I honestly didn't think it would be that simple."
"Sweet mercy, are you even listening to what I'm saying?!" She asked. Frustration started to creep into her tone, and her hands slammed against the bar-top.
"Obviously, or else I wouldn't have caught your confession." He set his glass down on the table forcefully.
As he rounded the chair, he held a look of vengeful fury. To her great annoyance, a familiar warmth started in the pit of her stomach as she watched him stalk toward her. Frantic thoughts, reminding her to focus, tried to pull her attention away from the imposing figure he made as he stepped behind her. The warmth turned searing and settled into her very skin. Anger and arousal blending and running out of her control.
'Uggh, not the time...' She lectured herself as she tried to focus on the cool bar top below her hands. "This seems like a bad time. How about I come back later, when we're both a bit calmer, and we talk this out?"
The chuckle he gave had a dangerous edge to it; more of a warning than a show of humor. Natalie firmly cursed her overactive imagination for the mental images that immediately followed. Muttered promises of disciple, rough tugging on her hair, and silk-woven chains jumped to the front of the line in those curses. All the things she had hoped Venice would be rather than another wild dance with dangerous humans.
"Oh, no. You're going to explain yourself."
A firm hand took hold of her wrist and moved it behind her back. Her chest was pressed to the bar top. While it wasn't in the context she had imagined, she still found herself embarrassingly aroused by the position. She tried desperately to regain her focus. Her breathing became unsteady as she fought the urge to lift her hips higher.
The low, dark whisper over her shoulder was not helping. "Let's start with the one that's been on my mind the longest, shall we? How are you immune to my abilities?"
When she shifted a bit, he pressed her into the bar top harder. The cool material made a solid thud when she gave up supporting her head. She poured all of her self control into containing the sound that almost left her. Unfortunately, she forgot to mind her tone. Her response came out breathy and she felt him still. "Being pinned under you is hardly immune."
The hand around her wrist tugged her up, and spun her to face him. He still looked furious. His other hand took hold of her chin, as he moved her to maintain eye contact. "What do you desire?"
She frowned and shifted. With a bout of willpower she didn't know she had, she set aside the appetite that raged through her. Rather than disregard his anger, and attempt to distract him, she opted for a proper conversation.
"I just want to explain that it wasn't personal. Honestly, when you asked me to go to the gala with you, I thought he may have gotten to you."
"Why work for him then? What did that person in the coat mean about getting your life back?"
"I told you! My life is complicated, I need to have part of my toes in the sick of it. Saving your ex cost me that access. By working for the new asshole in charge, I get that access back."
"For what?"
She sighed and tried to turn away, however he held firm. "The Pale Ones."
"What?"
"It's how I hunt them. Keep them at bay, and weak."
Oh, she shouldn't have used that word. It gave her traitor imagination more ideas. Her poor attempts to remind herself that this is not the right time for such things only appeared to make it worse. The flush on her face felt like a physical burn. She was hyper aware of how his hips locked her against the bar.
She cleared her throat and continued, "I can find out when people truly disappear, not just killed or taken. That why I can follow where they hunt for humans, and stop them from growing too big."
The recoil from her was sudden and complete. Her wrist had been flung away as though it were coated in poison. The space between them looked much smaller than it felt. A confused fury was all he gave her. Finally, her imagination cooled.
"You know? You know when people are going to be killed, innocent people, and you do nothing?"
"I can't fix every problem that every human makes. What I can do is stop soul devouring monsters from killing everyone." She paused to step toward him, letting her own anger return. "What I can do is survive. I don't know what it's been like for you, but I know from experience what the humans do when they find something different from them. You act like their innocent children, blindly wrecking everything around them."
When he stepped backward, she took another step forward.
Her anger carried on, "They're not. They're animals just like all the other creatures like them. When they get scared, they'll turn on what scares them. Even the small ones, they all will bare their teeth and rip apart others limb from limb."
With a sharp turn of her heel, she marched back toward the elevator without a thought to the look of horror on Lucifer's face. As the doors closed, she called out one last piece for him.
"And they'll do the same to you. When they find out."