XIV.
The sound of the alarm clock ripped Chloe out from the deep, dreamless sleep. For a second she laid still, recalling the last day and planning the morning. Damn, she wanted to sleep more. And her muscles ached. She looked at the clock and gasped at the hour. Luckily, today Trixie was going for a school excursion and Dan wanted to take her to the gathering point. Chloe would only need to make Trixie breakfast and dispatch her with dad, then she would be able to have a moment for herself.
When she returned yesterday, Trixie was already sleeping. Now, Chloe decided to hide as much traces of yesterday's fight as possible. She pulled the dressing gown over pyjama, to cover bruises on her arms and plasters on the chest, and let the hair down over her wounded cheek.
"Time to wake up, Monkey," called Chloe, entering her daughter's room. No response. She chose clothes for her and put it on the bed, kissing her daughter's forehead. "Get up, Trixie," she said and received some incoherent mumbling in reply.
Still swaying on her feet, she went to the kitchen, almost tripping over her bag. Yesterday she was so tired, that after paying the babysitter, she simply left the bag in the middle of the floor. Well, she needed to wake up and concentrate on her morning routine. A coffee for herself. Cocoa for Trixie. Bread into the toaster. The call "Get up, Monkey!", still no response. One gulp of coffee. Well, two or three. Sandwiches to the lunchbox, lunchbox and juice to the backpack. Is it going to rain today? Should she pack her a raincoat? "Trixie, get up!"
A doorbell rang and she let Dan in. For a second Chloe froze, expecting questions concerning yesterday, but Dan only asked with slight irritation: "Is she not ready yet? I am in a hurry too."
"Trixie! Daddy is waiting for you!" called Chloe and finally Trixie, luckily already clothed, came downstairs and grabbed the breakfast.
"You want some coffee?" proposed Chloe, but Dan shook his head. The detective closed her eyes for a moment, feeling that she still didn't fully wake up. She couldn't wait until Dan and Trixie would be out and she would return into the bed, just for ten minutes, no more. And then a hot shower.
"I forgot my lucky hair clip," announced Trixie standing up from the table. Dan huffed impatiently.
"I saw it in the bathroom. Eat, I will bring it," said Chloe, going toward the bathroom. Of course, she tripped over her bag again, this time spilling the coffee from the mug she was keeping – over the floor, the bag and herself. "Shit."
"Ugly word!" called immediately Trixie with a smile.
"Jeez, I will bring it," muttered Dan angrily. "Just gather yourself."
Chloe sighed and reached for a paper towel, wiping the floor and trying to assess the damage to her bag. Heavy morning, if there ever was one. Luckily, Trixie was done with her breakfast.
"Put the shoes, Monkey," she said handing her the backpack. Where was Dan with the hair clip? "And have fun on your trip. Just be careful. And polite," Chloe kissed her daughter, correcting her jumper. A few minutes more, and all this hectic commotion would be over. She would make a new coffee, lay down for a few minutes, take shower and…
She heard Dan footsteps behind her and turn back, freezing when she saw his expression, hurt and anger written all over his features.
"Fuck, Chloe," he said, and his voice trembled. "We didn't even sign the divorce papers yet."
Chloe stood agape, processing his words and trying to make sense of them when Dan in accusing gesture raised to her eyes the piece of the black material. The man's shirt. Right, yesterday she was so tired that she simply took off the shirt Lucifer borrowed her and left it in the bathroom. But…
"It is not like that…" she tried to explain. "It is borrowed…" she hesitated. There was something wet in Dan's eyes and somehow it wrenched her heart. On the other side, she didn't have to explain herself.
"Fuck," repeated Dan, throwing the shirt on the couch.
"Two ugly words, Daddy!" called Trixie, jumping from one foot to another, already behind the house threshold.
Dan brushed past Chloe exiting the house and shut the door behind him.
I should call Dan and explain it, thought Chloe, sipping her second coffee. Not that she was obliged to, but she didn't want to see Dan hurt. They were in separation, but for the sake of their past feelings and future care over Trixie – and hopefully also for the sake of their future friendship – she would have told him before starting the new relationship. He shouldn't think that she moved on, just like that, and started to sleep with someone else.
But, to tell the truth, she had moved on.
She trusted another man more than Dan. In a difficult moment, she didn't search for help and support by Dan, only found comfort in the company of another. And she let another stretch the truth for her, keeping secrets from Dan, just because she felt better this way.
Considering all this, the fact that she hadn't slept with Lucifer was meaningless.
I should call Dan and confront him, Chloe corrected herself gloomily. Oh, the confrontation was inevitable. The detective rubbed her forehead, imagining how her daywork was going to look like. She wasn't sure, whether Dan recognized it was Lucifer's shirt. Probably yes, his clothes were no less distinctive than his car, but even if not, Lucifer was not exactly the muster of discretion. If Dan starts to quarrel with her at the precinct, Lucifer was certainly going to chime in, throw some jokes and make things even worse.
That's going to be a hell of a day, sighted Chloe.
As if replying to her thoughts, her phone called. Numer was unknown, but in the speaker sounded Lucifer's voice.
"Detective, I hate to interrupt your beauty sleep, but I am in a place where your presence is required. Could you note the address?"
"I wasn't sleeping. I am going to work," sighed Chloe. "What is it?"
A moment of silence in the speaker. "It is work-related," sounded cautious reply. "And urgent."
"Fine," sighed Chloe, noting down the address. At least the confrontation with Dan would be delayed. Who knows, perhaps in a few hours he would cool off a little.
The navigation led her to some small pub, situated in one of the most dangerous areas of the city. So early in the morning, however, the pub was closed and the streets almost empty. The detective noticed a few clochards, scrambling out of their makeshift beddings, working girls in the smeared makeup retuning home and tired mothers hurrying to work. And in front of the entrance to the pub, standing out of this sad, but familiar landscape like two characters from another fable, were sitting Maze and Lucifer.
"Hi. What happened?" asked Chloe, trying to ignore the fact that she didn't even manage to properly comb her hair and Maze was wearing a red leather corset.
"There is a situation inside," Lucifer enigmatically pointed at the pub. He raised a cigarette and inhaled a cloud of smoke, the ring of his finger glittering during the movement. "How are you feeling, Detective?"
"Fine," Chloe nodded with a slight smile, acknowledging his concern and headed for the entrance to the pub. "I guess that the door is open?"
"Yes. However, Detective," Lucifer stopped her before she managed to cross the threshold, "do you by any chance belong to these people who have problems with looking at the blood? Because there is quite a lot of it inside." He reached for his pocket flask and offered it to her. "You may need a sip, before entering."
"Lucifer, it is 9 am," Chloe shook her head refusing and entered the pub. Lucifer and Maze followed her. "Do not smoke at the crime scene," Chloe managed to say automatically before the voice died in her throat.
To say that there was blood in this place would be an understatement of the decade. The pub looked as if the grenade burst out in the room full of people. There was blood over the floor and the walls, and the ceiling. Over the tables and overturned chairs. At first, Chloe saw nothing but dark pools of blood covering all the surfaces, its sharp smell deposited metallic taste on her tongue. Only after a few seconds did she notice, that there were also… remains. Remains scattered over the whole place in very small… pieces. A palm on the seat. A leg under the window. A… something on the counter.
The detective felt the wave of nausea and, not tearing the eyes from the scene, reached the hand toward Lucifer. When he pushed his flask into it, she took a big gulp and then another one. She coughed at the sharp taste, but it helped.
"I missed that smell," sighed Maze. She stretched herself, closing her eyes with obvious delight and inhaled deeply.
"You could have told earlier," muttered ironically Lucifer. "We would have bought you the butchery."
"Do they have human blood there?" Maze's eyes flashed with real interest and Lucifer snorted with laughter.
The detective looked at them, blinking. She is joking and he is amused, she realized and the wave of nausea returned. How could someone remain so oblivious facing such morbid scene? What were they?
Some of her feelings must have shown on her face, because Lucifer, seeing her expression, exclaimed: "Oh, come on, Detective! These were bad people!"
"What?... How do you know?" Chloe demanded hoarsely. At the last question, fear grasped at her throat. What happened here - bloodletting of the gangs? Mob revenge? Why exactly have they been here, Lucifer and Maze? Did something from their shady past finally transpire, like the detective always feared – and transpired in such a spectacular manner? Did they want to help her to… clean it? She wouldn't do it, even for Lucifer. Besides, to… clean this place she would need no less than a bomb exploding inside. Or flame thrower.
A flame thrower would be actually easier to get.
"These were the murderers of Jeremy Mitchell," explained Lucifer with undisturbed ease.
"How do you know?" repeated Chloe, losing her breath. Oh, please. How, just how, can he know…
"The crime tool," Lucifer pointed at the object she didn't notice earlier – a bloodied herbal knife laying under the table. "Quite an unusual instrument to make a massacre, don't you think? I guess electric saw would be easier to get and less tiring to use," he chuckled. "It screams: revenge!"
Chloe exhaled the shaky breath, almost fainting with relief. She looked at the distinctive knife with two handles and nodded. Of course. Lucifer simply made the wide stretched, but rather believable assumption.
"I need to get out of here," she admitted, ignoring Maze's scornful snort. Once outside, she inhaled fresh air for a few moments, slowly regaining clarity of thoughts. Of course, now she should notify the station, immediately. Yet, the moment of relief she felt at learning that Lucifer and Maze didn't just witness some gruesome mob score settings, was short-lived. The question of how they learnt about it still remained unanswered. It was not a kind of situation that the civil consultant could be informed prior to the police about.
"Why are you here? How did you know?..."
"We got the text," explained Lucifer and waved for Maze. The barmaid wordlessly retrieved her phone and showed it to the detective. It was only the address, without any other information.
Chloe took it and reached for her own phone, to copy the text and the number. Damn, the situation has just gotten worse. Maze wasn't even a civil consultant. In the eyes of the police, she would be a stranger. A stranger who receives the text pointing at such gore is very close to the suspect. Even if there were the murderers of Jeremy Mitchell, why would someone let Maze know about their massacre?…
'You may also contact Mazikeen', a piece of overheard conversation sounded in her head. No. That was absurd.
"Any idea who sent it?" she asked, trying to sound matter-of-fact.
"Of course!" called Lucifer, looking at her almost with irritation. "And do not play dumb, Detective, you know it too!"
Chloe blinked again and shook her head. "No," she said decisively. "No, no. Just… do not try to tell me that… this… slaughter was done… by her. No. That's not possible," she made a step back, trying to concentrate. "Even if… even if she hired someone…"
"Hire? Of course not," chimed in Maze. "It was personal."
"That's not possible," repeated Chloe. "It wasn't her. Besides…" she hesitated and something in her snapped, "For Heaven's Sake, you called her!" she cried, losing the rest of her self-control. "You called her, you called her from the police station, where all calls are registered and you sent her after these men, and do you know how does it all now look for you?..."
Lucifer crooked his head, the sign that something intrigued him. For a moment Chloe hoped that he understood and they would start a reasonable conversation now, but he only grinned cheerfully: "Why, it looks like you are worried about me, Detective! I would never guess!..."
Chloe opened her mouth to yell at him, but she was interrupted by the sound of the police siren. Fuck. She didn't call the station yet. The words died on her mouth and, full of anxiety, she looked and the blue and red lights nearing to them.
Just since when was she getting anxious at the view of the police lights?
For a moment she relaxed, seeing Dan among other officers leaving the car. Certainly, it would be easier to explain things to Dan?
Her hopes soon faded. At their view, Dan's expression twisted with anger. More precisely, at Lucifer's view. Any doubts whether he identified the owner of the shirt he found in her bathroom this morning were dispersed. Seeing Lucifer, Dan literally flinched and made a beeline toward the consultant, only to stop in front of him, each nerve and muscle in his body tensed in frustration.
Lucifer, slightly surprised, didn't move only look down at Dan, with this special sight of him, as if he just got amused by something very small under his feet. Maze, however, found it necessary to make a small step in their direction and meaningly cleared her throat. For a moment, Chloe felt very bad for Dan, knowing how angry and frustrated he must have been. Somehow, she felt guilty, knowing that she is in the middle of all this and that she could have managed the situation better.
"Dan, hi again," she said quickly before the silent confrontation escalated into something loud and unpleasant. "What are you doing here? I didn't manage to call the station yet."
Her ex-husband looked at her with distraction, as if he wasn't sure, what she was talking about. Then his professionalism won and he stepped back from Lucifer, turning to her:
"I got a leak from Benitez. He let me know that some members of his gang were killed here. It is true?"
"Benitez? They were from his gang?" Chloe frowned. "Well, yes, the bodies are in the pub. But Dan, take it easy! It is not a nice view."
Dan eyed her cautiously and together with other policemen headed for the pub. Chloe swirled anxiously. She knew, that Dan was thorough. He wasn't going to forget to ask, what she was doing here. Once the first shock after seeing the crime scene passes, he would demand an explanation for their presence. Lucifer, of course, would tell him, with the same ease he just told her. And he would, of course, share his absurd hypothesis – absurd, of course – about Margot Jensen. The hypothesis that should be ignored, but Dan was not going to make anything easy now, not for Lucifer. On the contrary – if there were a way to escalate the situation, Dan would use it. Out of personal grudge, but still…
Oh, no, why does it all have to crush together? thought desperately Chloe, watching how the first policeman ran out of the pub and started to vomit violently under the wall.
"Humans," muttered Maze. "Endurance of eggshells."
Chloe ignored her, concentrating on the catastrophe that was bound to come in a moment.
"I told Margot only to locate these men, if that worries you, Detective," replied Lucifer. He looked at her cautiously but seemed to be concerned only about her distress, apparently not able to see all the potential consequences she was aware of. "This was her own initiative."
"She disobeyed you," prompted Maze suggestively. "Let me find her."
"More like… misstepped. And I am not angry," Lucifer carelessly wavered his hand. "On the contrary, I find her behaviour… her motivations… the most intriguing. She was even ready to risk my wrath. How do you think, Mazikeen, does it mean that she was, indeed, in love?..."
"It means no one cares for your wrath anymore," hissed Maze.
Chloe for a second wanted to slap them both to shake some reason into them. If it was Margot Jensen – and though Chloe refused to believe it, some part of her knew it to be true – the facts were that Lucifer called her a day before, sent after Mitchell's killers, asked to contact Maze after finding them - and then Maze received the text leading to… this. Shit, why could neither he nor this barmaid ninja, think lucidly? A bodyguard she was!... 'Not angry'? And what did it matter? Did he at least have a lawyer? Now that would be a funny question, to ask a devil whether he had a lawyer, wasn't that… proverbial? Chloe chuckled hysterically, drawing the attention of both Lucifer and Maze. They stopped quarrelling – something about getting soft and returning to the right place before it would be too late – and looked at her.
"Are you all right, Detective?" Lucifer asked kindly. "There is nothing to be distressed about. I didn't expect either that something like this would happen," he pointed toward the pub with an elegant gesture, the ring glittering again. "However, I am utterly satisfied with the outcome. The guilty were punished, the justice was served."
"And it was a painful justice," added Maze, licking her lips.
"Oh, shut up," cut him off Chloe, seeing that Dan and the other policemen were leaving the bar. "Just shut up or playing the devil won't help you."
"But, Detective!..."
Chloe quickly made a few steps toward Dan, to prevent him from getting too near to Lucifer, in case her partner would like to express his satisfaction at the gore in the bar once again. Behind her, Lucifer and Maze started to quarrel again. This time it was something about respect and letting the mortals push him around. No matter.
Both Dan and the other man were pale as sheets.
"What the hell is it, Chloe?" asked Dan, shaking. He sounded aggressive, but she knew it was because of the shock.
"I don't know, Dan," the detective shook her head. "I only had a peek at the scene. I needed some fresh air."
"Yeah, me too," sighed Dan. He slowly calmed down and, of course, started to think logically. "What are you doing here? Did you get some notice, or what?"
That was the moment.
For a second, Chloe had a feeling as if the world froze.
Behind her, Lucifer and Maze were still arguing, both immersed in their game, exchanging heated remarks about gates of hell, eternal oaths and mortality. They were so much in their roles, that in other circumstances Chloe could even found it cool.
However, at the moment she was under her private gate of hell, facing Dan, who waited for answers.
Ans she didn't have much time to decide.
"Yes. We got the text," she replied, not recognizing her own voice. Slowly, she showed him Maze's phone, that she still kept in her hand. "I didn't check the number yet, but I will do it."
It wasn't a lie. At yet it was.
"I see," Dan nodded, reading the text. "Any idea why someone sent you this?"
He could have asked her to be more precise. He could have asked, who exactly got the text. Yes, Chloe's number was at the precinct webpage, but he didn't have to assume that she was the one who got the message.
He could have noticed that Lucifer had no mobile phone. He could have remembered, how her cell looked like. He could have recognized, that it was not the one.
It was Dan's mistake.
And yet, it was her lie.
"Do you remember my case? The murder of Jeremy Mitchell?" said slowly Chloe. "He was killed by the herbal knife and I saw similar at the pub. I think there might be a connection. Perhaps someone… involved knew we are working on the case and might have sent this message."
All truth. And still, a lie.
For a short second, she wondered, whether this was what Lucifer was doing with them all the time, letting them play the blind man's buff and stumble over their own assumptions - watching them from aside. Did he found it funny?
But this time it was she who did it. She misled her ex-husband, worse – her fellow oficer - deliberately hiding from him the trail.
She felt awful.
"Perhaps. I will try to check it," Dan nodded shortly. In the meantime, he gathered himself. Emotions after seeing the morbid scene fallen down, now he sent her reluctant glance. "But officially it is my case. You may leave, I will let you know if I find something important to you. So, now just take you loverboy out of here, because I cannot look at him."
"Do not be an asshole," Chloe said only. "it is not like you think." No, it wasn't. In fact, it was worse. Just having sex with Lucifer would be much less… bonding than what was between them now.
Dan snorted and quite ostensively turned back to make phone calls, demanding backup and forensics. Chloe took it as a clue to leave. Behind her, Lucifer's and Maze's heated argument was developing, so she swiftly stepped in between them, before the exchange of arguments turned into something more physical. She already knew that they had the non-standard understanding of personal immunity, but she preferred not to give Dan pretexts to intervene.
"There is nothing for us here. Let's go. I will take you to the precinct," she said to Lucifer, seeing that they arrived with Maze's car. Only when they put some distance from Dan, she returned the phone to Maze.
"Nicely done, Decker," commented Maze, taking her phone. So, she did pay attention to what was happening around her, even in the middle of the quarrel. Perhaps she wasn't such a bad bodyguard after all.
Lucifer, of course, didn't concern himself with any of this. Chloe shook her head, seeing him taking place in her car. She knew she locked it. And, of course, he couldn't have waited a few seconds until she opened it. He just had to show off.
"You are not that bad, Decker, even if you... stink with grace," the barmaid grimaced, wrinkling her nose. "I hate to see him changing because of you. But you are strong, I admit. I showed you the Hell and you didn't run away."
"Do you ever stop playing at this?" asked wearily the detective. "I mean, do you ever put normal clothes and start talking like normal people?"
Maze snorted.
"Open your eyes, Decker. We are not people. And my normal clothes are armour," she concluded, getting into her car and slamming the door.
The detective drove to the precinct in silence, pretending to be concentrated on the road, to avoid conversation. Lucifer, on his side, was also lost in thoughts, so the detective could have pondered undisturbed.
How did it come to this? Yesterday, she simply took an easy way, an innocent, comfortable shortcut. And after not much more than twelve hours, she was lying to her ex-husband, worse – to her fellow officer.
She felt so… good last night. Sitting in Lucifer's flat, under the dim light of this beautiful tree-like chandelier, listening to him playing… resting after the violent fight and narrow escape…she felt so much in place. She felt intrigued and excited. And adored.
Today she felt overwhelmed.
Something was… not right. Lucifer, Maze, this gruesome scene, their cruel jokes and incomprehensible remarks, all their game and metaphors… suddenly it all weighed on her heavily, like a burden.
These are the consequences, she thought. There are consequences to everything we do, good choices are rewarded and bad choices are punished and usually, you do not get to know which are which until it is too late and all you can to it to accept consequences, and saying 'I am sorry I didn't know' will not help.
This joke about the eggs. 'I need the eggs', it said and she found it so wise and funny. What was not in the joke, were consequences. It is not that someone does not let you die taking the bullets destined for you, opens the locks, reads the people's minds and forces the suspects to confess in sobs – and it wouldn't have consequences.
The question is, what these consequences would look like.
So far, a few people finished in the asylum, but these were bad people, she defended quickly. And after the one small phone call, a certain pub ran with blood. Hopefully, it was the blood od bad people as well.
And she distanced herself from Dan, this time beyond repair.
But they also shattered the drug gang, saving a few kids from this town from a new kind of brain-damaging shit. Did it mean, that the consequences were balanced?
Where there any other consequences she didn't know about?
She risked a quick glance at her partner, for a small second losing the trail of her thoughts to admire, how beautiful he looked like, sitting so peacefully by her side, long eyelashes casting a shadow on his cheeks. Why exactly did he choose to pose as the devil? With such beauty as his, he could easily claim to be an angel.
Ah, but angel image wouldn't fit his temper tantrums, thought Chloe with a smile. And even less his lifestyle. Her partner was a man of devilish passions, fondness for sinful pleasures, angelic beauty and love to music. Not forgetting the temper of five-year-old and conviction that the world always revolves around him.
Did everything, that was happening, had consequences for Lucifer too? He always seemed so much… above everything. So careless and uncaring. Oh, yes, most of this commotion he made around himself was to hide his true self from everyone, himself including, she realized that. But still, she had no idea how the real Lucifer looked like.
Once again she recalled the Great Dane of her neighbours, now shaking her head almost with shame. How could she have compared Lucifer such reliable, homely animal? No, he would rather be something far more sophisticated and fickle. Like a…
Like a dragon.
Chloe had no idea why such comparison suddenly came to her mind. However, once she thought about it, she felt terribly uncomfortable with this idea, with the picture of being followed by a dragon, a powerful, sentient and wise but inhuman…
"Detective? What is it?" she heard a familiar voice and she saw him watching her with concern.
As for someone so self-centred, Lucifer became recently very sensitive to her moods.
"Nothing. It has just been… a difficult morning," Chloe smiled evasively and added, to change the subject: "You are unusually silent. What are you thinking about?"
"Feelings. How surprising consequences they might have," came the immediate answer.
"Feelings?" Chloe echoed, clearing her throat. "You are speaking about Margot Jensen?"
"Yes," he replied after a long moment of silence and with hesitation. "Yes, about her. I hope so."