Maze wove her motorcycle through traffic, cutting minutes of time among backed-up cars into seconds with each dangerously tight twist and turn. Her eyes were continually scanning for gaps in the cars ahead of her, and although for most of her ride, she'd been able to spot them rather easily, in the extraordinarily large crowd of cars ahead it seemed she would have no room to maneuver whatsoever. She would be trapped in traffic while barely a quarter-mile from her destination—a fate which Maze hated even the thought of.

Therefore, as Maze still had room to maneuver, she made her way to the far right of the road, then hopped the curb up onto the sidewalk. Revving her engines, Maze saw that apart from the line out of Lux's doors, there was no one in her way. A grin twisted its way up her face, and Maze went full throttle, racing her way down the surprisingly deserted sidewalk. Then, just as it seemed inevitable that Maze would turn the line into a particularly bloody salsa, Maze spun the bike to the side and braked, skidding her way right up to the club's front entrance.

Maze stepped off her motorcycle, took off her helmet, and slung the object at the nearest valet. Then, speaking in the same low growl she used to intimidate her bounties, the demon gave her instructions to the attendant. "One scratch on that thing, and I come for your head. Got it?"

Nodding meekly, the valet mutely handed her a ticket for the motorcycle—clearly, tales of her were still being used to frighten the new hires.

But when she saw the fear which exuded from the servant from mere stories of her actions, Maze scoffed, and her disdain was evident in every word of her response. "No, I really don't want to carry that around. You'll be able to remember it without that, though, right? I mean, it's not like I'm that forgettable. Right?"

The insipid servant's head bobbed up and down frantically, but she could tell his eyes didn't have the fear in them that she knew would keep him from forgetting.

She made an intimidating step towards the valet, the movement causing him to flinch. She smiled a bit at that fear, savoring it, and her next words must have seemed disconcertingly cheerful to Lucifer's terrified employee. "I want to hear you say it. You won't forget my bike, right?"

Her eyes were drilling into the manservant, and even as he responded those terror-filled eyes were averted from her own. "I- I won't forget your bike."

"Good." Now practically beaming, her teeth bared in a toothy grin, Maze turned away from the attendant and strode through the large double doors into Lux. She had cut in front of an absolutely massive line, but if any of them complained, they were quickly shushed by those who had seen her intimidating display and the knives at her hips.

Sashaying onto the dance floor, Maze forged a path through the crowded nightclub, her body all too familiar with this particular environment. As she made her way through, Maze found herself pressed deep into the crowd, just as she liked it when she was partying. As she forged into the press of the crowd, a well-endowed woman was grinding on Maze's back, pressing Maze forward and into a towering hunk of man-flesh as he hip-thrust in front of her. The two were obviously together, their coordinated outfits all tight leather and nylons stretched across fit bodies, and they were just as obviously inviting Maze to more… private… activities.

Now normally, Maze would gladly participate in the fun that was brewing here. It would be a nice distraction, and these two obviously had the necessary… creativity not to disappoint her. But she had something to do for Lucifer, and Maze wouldn't be deterred from it.

Now, Maze's commitment to this favor for Lucifer didn't come out of some desire to please or sense of loyalty to him. Rather Maze, at the moment, very much did not like Lucifer. It wasn't some burning hate directed towards his very existence, but it was there, and the history behind it meant Maze was not going to be on good terms with him anytime soon. So had Lucifer asked her to do this for him in any other circumstance, for any other reason, Maze would have gladly told him to buzz off.

But Linda had asked Maze to try to fix things with Lucifer, to give an honest effort at making up with her former ruler, and there were very few things Maze was not willing to do to make her best friend happy. Even if Lucifer was being a prick with the whole 'earn my forgiveness' thing.

Now once more resolved to fulfill her task, Maze pushed her way past the enticing pair, practically shoving people out of her way as she headed straight for the elevator which led up to Lucifer's penthouse. People were shouting at her, their rhythmic movements disrupted by her manhandling, but they were (rather ironically, she thought) drowned out by the very same music they had been moving to. Her movement through the club now much more rapid, Maze soon began to ascend the flight of stairs which led up to the elevator. Her combat boots thudded softly on the carpeted staircase, moving with a quick yet dignified pace that allowed her to arrive at the elevator within seconds.

Maze pressed the button to call the elevator down, and as she waited for it to complete its descent, tapped her foot to the throbbing beat. Looking idly down at Lux's lower level, she saw that those she had shoved aside were once more grooving to the fast paced music, and that the pair she had turned down were leaving, an attractive man wearing booty shorts and a nearly unbuttoned silk shirt in tow.

Maze was strangely disappointed by that, but she wasn't particularly surprised. The types of humans you found in clubs like this were fickle, shallow people, and it was all-too easy to fade from the memories of people like that. Though honestly, the same thing happened with most of the people Maze encountered. She'd drift through their lives, but—Maze forcefully cut off that brooding line of thought, trying not to dwell on it. And it was a good thing, too. If she hadn't done so, she might have missed as only seconds later the 'Ding!' of the elevator's arrival rang out onto Lux's upper level.

Stepping forward into the elevator, the doors slid shut, blocking the club's noise remarkably effectively to create a perfectly silent space—much to Maze's relief.

Maze held a lot of resentment towards Lucifer, but at least he had the taste to not bother with any elevator music on the way up. Maze had sworn that if she ever met the person who'd decided a police precinct of all places should have elevators that played 90s slow jazz, she'd make them pay for the misery they'd caused her. I mean, seriously, 90s slow jazz of all things? Maze knew for a fact that at least a billion souls were getting tortured with 90s slow jazz down in Hell at that very moment!

Maze was startled from her internal rant, however, when the elevator's doors once more let out a loud 'Ding!' and spread open, welcoming Maze to Lucifer's massive penthouse. Nonchalantly strutting into the familiar area, Maze was surprised to see that nobody was there.

Pulling out her phone, Maze navigated to her texts as she tried to pull up the one Lucifer had sent to her.

And that was another thing, too! Back in Hell, when Lucifer had orders for her, she had knelt at his throne and he had boomed his commands down at her with such authority that Maze could not help but obey. And even on Earth, even when Maze had served him no longer, Lucifer had at the very least spoken to her in person whenever he wanted her help.

But a text? That was the very height of disrespect. Lucifer was lucky Maze's best friend wanted her to make up with him, because otherwise, Maze wouldn't have given Lucifer's request a second thought.

By now, Maze had pulled up Lucifer's text, and as she read through it, she found a whole new reason to be annoyed with him.

Previously, Maze had just skimmed the text, and it had seemed like enough information for her to get this done. Reading it in full, however, revealed that it didn't contain nearly as much information as she had thought. Maze, it began. please come over here and help this mortal find Annabeth. Where was 'here'? Was Maze even in the right spot? Better yet, who was 'this mortal'? How was she supposed to find 'Annabeth' for someone if she didn't know who they were? And, most of all, what the hell had Lucifer been thinking when he wrote this text? I'll forgive you for helping Cain if you do! Honestly, that was the only part of the text that had a clear meaning to Maze. Unfortunately, that meaning was really starting to piss Maze off.

Maze may not have been the best with people, but she knew how to do right by her friends. And because of that, Maze knew for a fact that making those you care about essentially pay for your forgiveness wasn't something you did if you actually cared about them.

So now that Maze had read the text in full, really grasped what Lucifer had said, she knew Lucifer didn't actually care about her. He still just thought about her as a means to an end, as nothing more than a tool serving at his behest.

But Maze was past caring, at this point. Sure, Lucifer didn't deserve this favor from her. But Maze had done worse to keep her friends safe and happy, so she would gladly pretend to make up with that selfish tool if it would make Linda happier.

Still, all of that meant nothing if Maze couldn't figure out what Lucifer wanted done in the first place. There were no mortals in sight, and once she found them she wouldn't even know what she was supposed to help with.

Inwardly shrugging, Maze began to look through the penthouse, checking to see if Percy wasn't just in one of the penthouse's many nooks and crannies.

Maze started by checking the bedroom, thinking perhaps Lucifer had found a soft spot for one of his flings, and had decided to help them score some exotic new drug. But when she looked, there was nothing to even indicate he'd even had a fling recently. Her face blank, Maze stepped out onto the balcony to continue her search.

See, while there appeared to be nobody out there, Maze knew all too well how easily someone could hide in plain sight while on this balcony (having done it many times herself). Now, to be fair, Maze thought as she paced back and forth across the balcony and searched for 'this mortal'. They'd have to be as paranoid as I am to hide themselves while they were expecting company. So him hiding himself was pretty damn unlikely. But that was the only explanation so far that meant Maze wasn't in the wrong place entirely.

Then Maze got a glimpse into the hot tub, and she realized she'd severely misinterpreted Lucifer's request. There was a body at the bottom of the Jacuzzi, their face looking up out of the water. They weren't moving, and considering Maze hadn't seen them since she entered the penthouse, they likely hadn't been moving for some time.

Trying to gauge the corpse's age, Maze noticed the body was still fresh, with the victim's honestly quite-attractive body still unaffected by rot. Doing her best to crunch the numbers in her head with what little forensics information she'd picked up from Ellen, Maze realized that Lucifer must have texted her to come over only minutes after drowning them to death.

'Finding Annabeth' must have been a euphemism for getting rid of the . Just… wow. That was Lucifer for you—self-centered and inattentive as they came.

I mean, did Lucifer seriously expect her to demean herself this way? Even when Maze had worked for Lucifer, she had never been expected to perform… this kind of work. Lucifer had never tasked Maze with disposing of a corpse even when she had devoted herself to him absolutely. Why did he think she'd be willing to do so now that she was her own demon? Did he know about Linda wanting her to reconcile with him?

Wait. Actually, had Lucifer ever even killed anyone while Maze had served him? No. No he hadn't. He'd certainly harmed others: driving criminals to madness by showing them his true face, shattering bones as he swiped enemies out of his way, and such. But the only time Maze could ever recall Lucifer murdering someone was—

Cain.

Lucifer had murdered Cain with one of Maze's own daggers. Lucifer had murdered him for his crimes against Chloe Decker and Linda Martin, two of Maze's closest friends. The only problem Maze had with what Lucifer had done, was that she'd never gotten her own chance to make Cain regret what he'd done.

Oh, the tortures she would have laid upon him for threatening Linda's life… really, Cain was lucky in the way he'd died. Sure, he'd gone to Hell, but it had been a quick death, and his body had been taken by the LAPD as evidence, ensuring that neither Maze nor anyone else could desecrate his body as he deserved.

But now, Lucifer had killed someone else, and Maze knew that if anything, Lucifer was now resolved to stick closer to his rules against the murder of mortals.

So whatever this mortal had done, it must have been bad. It must have threatened those Lucifer cared about, and considering they shared so many friends between them, it was more than likely this person had tried to hurt people Maze cared about as well.

Maze had been wrong about Lucifer. This wasn't grunt work, this was a gift! She could mutilate the now disturbingly handsome body of this grave offender just as she had wanted to do with Cain, and at the end of it, she would discard them like the garbage they were.

Maze began to imagine the grotesqueries she could transform this body into, and her mood immediately improved. Now considerably more enthusiastic, Maze shot her arm out and yanked the corpse out of the hot tub, expecting it to fly out, then lie limp on the balcony floor where Maze could inspect it more thoroughly.

She was therefore quite surprised when, in the span of a few seconds, the supposed corpse opened his apparently sea-green eyes, drew a gleaming bronze sword from his pocket, and redirected his momentum into a whirling spin around Maze that ended with him standing behind her, his sword at Maze's throat. He was holding the sword tight against her skin, just barely digging into her flesh. But even that was surprising, as Maze's tough demonic flesh had never yielded easily to any blade besides those of her siblings.

With the tiny trickles of red now making their way down her neck from where the sword rested a clear warning of the situation's danger, Maze slowly drew her right knife as the attacker began to speak.

His quiet, tired voice spoke calmly, but Maze wasn't really listening. Still, she got the gist—been a long day, yada yada yada, sarcastic comment, what were you going to do to me? That was all it was, really.

Still, although the talking was annoying, it was also distracting him from what he should have been paying attention to. Maze had begun to spin her right knife on her finger, the movement barely concealed from her attacker by the palm of her hand in preparation for her counterattack.

Then, in a sequence of events that could only be described as lightning-fast, Maze launched her blade up through her opponent's sword hand, knocked the sword out of his hand, kicked his legs out from under him, and flung his bronze blade off the balcony.

Then, preparing to finish him off, she summoned her blade from his hand. Blood gushed out freely, and Maze grinned as she sprinted the last few meters separating her from her prey now that she'd sent him sprawling. She was nobody's prey, and she was going to finish this man off like the predator she was to prove it.

But then Maze was the one to be sent sprawling, as a blast of superheated water came up through the floor and pushed her away from her prey. Maze was blasted through the windowpane behind her, sent back into the main area of Lucifer's penthouse.

And the water wasn't stopping, continuing to push Maze further and further from her prey. The sheer force of the water was eroding the stone beneath and behind her, and its searing heat forced even Maze's demonic flesh to redden and ache with pain.

But Maze wasn't out of this fight yet. She dug her feet into the penthouse's dark marble floors, anchoring herself against the flood that had been forcing her back. Then, careful to stay low to the ground and minimize her profile, Maze bolted forward. Her hell-forged muscles pumping furiously, step by step Maze anchored herself closer and closer to her opponent. Her vision was blurred, water everywhere, but even as the flow of the water intensified once more, she was not deterred. As she steadily made progress towards her opponent, she began to make out an indistinct profile ahead of her, presumably directing the water.

Though Maze had previously been doing her best to maintain a pace she could sustain, now there was a chance to take her opponent out permanently. So Maze flipped her knives, coiled her entire body as low to the ground as she could, then leapt at her opponent.

Maze's body shot out of the stream of water like a missile, her knives poised to enter her challenger's flesh. Even once he saw her, he hadn't moved from where he stood—likely frozen in sheer terror.

Then, when Maze was only a few feet away, that sword from before once more flashed out of her opponent's pocket, ready to split her in two.

Maze knew she had to block it. So midair, she spun until she was vertical, and stuck her legs down into the balcony's floor. Now able to stand her ground, Maze crossed her blades in front of where the sword would strike, confident in her ability to block the hit.

Then the blow slammed into her blades, and rather than feeling the impact vibrate its way up her baldes and through her bones, Maze's demon blades slipped out of her hands. As they slipped out, Maze could feel moisture on her palms, and realized that her opponent must have used that water to loosen her grip. But losing her blades was a problem Maze could easily fix.

So even as her enemy's bronze sword swung up, its point now at her throat, Maze tried to summon her blades back.

But they had been swept up by a wave at that point, and though she could feel them strain to escape their watery prison it was of no use. Maze had lost. And now, the victor of their fight once more spoke to her with his sword at her throat.

But this time, Maze had no choice but to listen as his angry voice echoed through the air. "All right, let's try this one more time. Who are you, and what were you going to do to me?"

Maze knew she needed to come up with a lie about what she had planned to do to him. She could hardly say, "I was going to carve up your body until it was barely recognizable as once belonging to a human, then dump it in an incinerator," to the guy with a sword at her throat!

So Maze decided to stall for time as she did her best to think of a good falsehood to tell him, to give him not just her name as he had asked, but also every title which had ever preceded it.

Her eyes drilling into the eyes of her former foe, Maze began to intone the titles which represented all that her life had been. "I am the greatest of all demons, the one whose blades are known to have cut a thousand of her sibling's throats. I am the greatest and cruelest torturer Hell was ever known, she who was entrusted with the torture of Goddess herself when her husband cast her down into Hell. I am she who was the right hand demon of Lucifer the Morningstar during the countless millennia of his rule in Hell, and the lover of Amenadiel the Firstborn before his fall. I am the greatest hunter of mortals the world has ever known, and my prowess in combat is such that my blades have carved through the flesh of angels."

For a moment, Maze paused. The mortal would excuse it as being for dramatic effect, but the real reason was that Maze needed to gather her thoughts before this final line.

Maze reviewed the plan: she'd give her name, the mortal would prod her towards answering the second part of his question, and Maze would say that she had thought he was one of her bounties. Alright, then. She had this. Now she just had to finish her introduction.

So, her voice now booming with confidence, Maze spoke once more. "I am Mazikeen of the Lilim. And I-"

Then, Maze cut herself off, as something utterly baffling had occurred. As soon as she had said that final line, that she was Mazikeen of the Lilim, her opponent's eyes had widened, and he'd hurriedly put the sword back in his pocket.

Did my introduction scare him that much? No, there's something else to it. What could it be, though?

At this point, Maze just wanted to pounce on him so she could get out of there, but she knew that fight would be so one-sided as to have only one possible outcome. And Maze wouldn't be the victor of that outcome, not when her blades were gone and her opponent had a sword capable of truly cutting her.

Then, as Maze studied him further, she realized the fight she'd been envisioning might be even more one-sided than she'd first thought. While in the midst of battle she'd assumed he'd merely pressed through and ignored the wound to his sword hand, it was obvious from this perspective that the wound had healed. If she hadn't stabbed him herself, she'd think he'd never been hurt in the first place.

So despite all the aggression still pent up inside her, Maze remained still as the now-relaxed mortal spoke at her. "My name is Percy Jackson, and I think I know why you're here.'

Though, if Percy was willing to converse, Maze could hardly keep from releasing the aggression in less direct ways. So, her tone venomous, Maze responded to Percy's statement, "Oh? And Why would that be?"

At that, Percy straightened his back, a strangely weary satisfaction echoing throughout the tones of his voice as he spoke. "You're the greatest hunter in the world, and Lucifer sent you here to help me find Annabeth."

Now, see, at this point Maze was furious. That fury came from a variety of places, all anger of varying intensities that had somehow blended together to create the maelstrom of anger she was currently experiencing. She was annoyed with Percy for besting her and sending her knives who-knows-where. She was enraged with Lucifer for essentially loaning a favor from her to someone else. And, most of all, Maze was angry with herself for letting herself fall into the trap of once more doing Lucifer's bidding.

Maze didn't work for Lucifer anymore—she worked for herself and those she cared about. And though Linda had wanted her to reconcile with Lucifer, Maze knew Linda wanted her to avoid backsliding into being Lucifer's lackey even more.

So having realized that the course of action her emotions were driving her towards was one with which her best friend would be in complete agreement, Maze gave her response to Percy's statement. "Sorry, no. I'm not Lucifer's lapdog anymore—he can't just loan me out whenever he wants to grant someone a favor. I work for me and mine now, and nobody in that group is going to benefit from me helping you."

When Percy heard that, the satisfaction crumbled from his features, and all that was left to his expression was a face of sheer desperation. But apparently Percy hadn't given up yet, for though his voice was so pained it seemed almost like Percy was croaking, he still pressed on. Yet the desperation must have made him vicious, because now he was hitting where it hurt. "Are you sure about that? After all, your blades still seem to be missing. Do you think you'll be able to find them on your own?"

At that, Maze snapped. Charging forward, she swung her fist straight into the center of Percy's chest with all the force of a medieval battering ram. Those blades were the first things that had ever belonged to her! They were millennia old weapons that could wound angels! She WOULD NOT give them up to some squalling mortal brat!

But then, Maze's blow stopped cold, Percy's skin somehow unbroken despite the massive force she had exerted.

Remarkably unaffected by her murder attempt, Percy continued to talk at Maze. "Look, it's pretty simple. You agree to hear me out without trying to murder me, I'll let you have your magic knives back. Deal?"

In what was beginning to become a theme in her interactions with Percy, Maze restrained her fury, and agreed. "Deal."

Instantly, Maze could feel as her blades' watery prison removed itself. All obstacles now removed, the blades flew into Maze's hands.

All her attention on the blades, Maze inspected them for damage. But all seemed well, as drawing a finger along their edges still drew blood, and when the blades were held up into the afternoon light, her eyes still couldn't find even the slightest of nicks on them.

Having settled her worries, Maze maneuvered the knives in her hands so that their blades pointed down, then slid them down into the sheaths at her hips.

Still not in a good mood, but willing to at least listen to and then laugh at Percy's request, Maze nodded. "Go ahead."

Percy sucked in a breath. "Right. Right," His voice trembling with nervousness, Percy began to speak. "So it all begins at this place called the Wolf House. Now, as you might guess based on the name, there's a lot of wolves. But this beginning centers around one wolf in particular…"

And for the next half-hour or so, Maze listened to Percy's story. She learned of the Wolf House, of his journey to San Francisco and pursuit by the Gorgons. She learned of how he'd summoned a tsunami, and how his body had hovered on the edge of death until he'd been awoken by what Maze knew to be Lucifer's mojo. She learned of the deal Percy had made with Lucifer, and of the things he had seen in Lucifer's eyes. He told her everything, and Maze listened attentively.

Oh, at first she hadn't. She had wanted to disrespect his history, to chortle at his pitiful desire to find some random mortal. But the fact was that Percy's past was all too similar to her own.

He'd fought for his very survival just as Maze had for thousands of years, had clawed his way through wolves and Gorgons and Devils and even demons by whatever means he could.

And all of it had been in search of a single connection, in service to the one previous person he had clung to even when everything else had fled his mind.

Percy Jackson was, in many ways, the ideal demon. His everlasting loyalty, his savage will to survive, his preference for solving problems with violence, and even such superficial things as his weaponry— each and every aspect of Percy Jackson aligned with the very principles that had guided Lilith's creation of the demons. All of it served to make Percy Jackson entirely familiar and entirely sympathetic to Hell's former greatest torturer.

Percy Jackson was like a dark mirror of what Maze could have become. He was what she would have become had Maze not found friends to anchor her once she left Hell, had Maze remained loyal to Lucifer and never acted with any will of her own.

And with that realization, Maze discovered that she actually wanted to help the demigod. Though not with finding Annabeth—Oh, no. Maze knew full well what chasing old loyalties like that could lead to, and so she had resolved to guide Percy away from this path, to show him that he could form a future that wasn't about discovering his past.

"Alright, Percy." Maze told him, pressing the button to call the elevator up. "I'm about to be real generous here, so you better be grateful. I wasn't lying about the payment thing—I can't just spend all my time looking for some random blondie as a favor to you. I've still got to make rent. So if I do this, you're going to pay me for it by helping me hunt bounties. Now, that 'if' depends on another 'if', and that second 'if' is one you're gonna know the answer to by this time tomorrow. See, you're going to come with me for today, help me get through some bounties as fast as I can. And if I make over double what I normally make in a day, I'll help you find this 'Annabeth' chick of yours. Deal?"

"Deal." Percy agreed. Then, continuing, "And I am grateful, by the way. Thank you for this."

Honestly, if he really tried, Percy probably could equal Maze in the amount of bounties he gained. But if he wanted to accomplish that, then he'd have to commit fully to the work of catching criminals—and Maze knew from personal experience that once a person like Maze or Percy had gotten attached to something, there was no going back.

So whether he succeeded or failed, this deal would force Percy to learn the same lesson Maze had—when you've got a chance at a new, brighter future, don't waste it on recreating the past. Instead, you should find reasons that anchor you to that brighter future.

For Maze, those were hunting down evildoers and protecting her friends. For Percy… Well, hopefully just one of those reasons would be enough.


Lucifer swung the door to Linda's office open, then stepped into the beige-toned room, a wide grin on his face.

On the car ride there, he'd done his best to process how Percy had reacted, and it had been wonderful! At no point in the explanation had Percy thought of him as evil incarnate, at no point in the explanation had Percy seemed confused by what Lucifer was saying, and at no point in the explanation had Percy even attempted to flee from learning the truth!

Now, Lucifer knew that his true nature couldn't be handled so easily. An explanation was necessary to fix things, but it was far from the only task which Lucifer needed to undertake. After all, Percy may not have fled, but he had tried to murder Lucifer the first time they spoke, and Lucifer knew that his eyes had utterly terrified the Roman demigod. And Percy had already possessed some basis for the supernatural, however one-dimensional it had been.

No, Lucifer wasn't done in his efforts to fix things with the Detective by a long shot. But at the very least, Lucifer now had a basis for how he could explain his world to the Detective—and that was progress beyond anything else he'd done in the last two weeks.

"Dr. Linda?" Lucifer called out as he walked in. "I trust I haven't completely missed my session?"

At that, Linda sighed. She was sitting behind her desk, piles of file folders and paperwork in front of her.

The whole mess of it looked awfully boring, and so Lucifer was glad for Dr. Linda's sake when she swept it all to the side and got up to go sit in her therapist's chair. Sighing again, Linda sat up in the chair and started talking. "No, you have. But it's alright, I'll just do my patient records another time. After all, you seem better than you have in weeks, and if I don't deal with Cain now who knows when you'll be willing to bring it up?"

At that, Lucifer shifted slightly.

It wasn't as if Cain was a difficult topic—he'd deserved what he'd gotten, and so what if Lucifer didn't feel any guilt over it? Lucifer didn't feel guilty about punishing the guilty- it was as simple as that. What couldn't Linda understand about that reasoning?

Having contemplated it, Lucifer knew the answer to that question. Everything about it.

So, for no other purpose than to avoid an argument, Lucifer declined. "Actually, I don't particularly wish to discuss that issue."

Linda sighed there, but moved on. "All right then. If Cain's not an option, then I want to deal with whatever's gotten you out of the rather depressed state you were in when I saw you last."

Lucifer sat down on the couch opposite Dr. Linda, his posture straight for the first time in weeks. "Right, then. You see, I recently made quite a lot of progress in dealing with the Detective's devilish revelation. You see, there was this—"

Then Linda put her hand out in a signal clearly meant to cut him off, and though Lucifer was confused, he did as she had instructed.

Then Linda began to lecture him, her tone revealing that she was obviously frustrated by something, though Lucifer didn't know what. "Now, first of all, ever since Chloe left you've been jumping the gun with this 'devilish revelation' business. First the depression, now this progress of yours—I mean, have you even considered the possibility that Chloe could have accepted you? Maybe the vacation is just a vacation."

Well, that made no sense. Maybe it did to Linda because she hadn't been there, but when Chloe had seen his devil face, she had been utterly horrified, not accepting. But the doctor always eventually gave him some good advice, so Lucifer just had to keep listening until he heard that.

The doctor was continuing now, so Lucifer eagerly tuned in, hopeful for what the oncoming revelation might be. "Have you considered the possibility that in the process of confronting this hypothetical Chloe situation, you've been purposely neglecting some other important issues?"

Was that the sage advice? No, Lucifer didn't think so. The situation with the Detective truly was his most pressing issue at the moment, and he couldn't really think of anything else that had recently troubled him.

So Lucifer told Dr. Linda exactly that.

When she heard him say it, she raised her eyebrows, but said nothing until he was finished. Then, once he was done, she leaned forward and met his eyes. This was the sage advice, Lucifer could feel it.

"Are you certain? No… actions you did to certain people that you might want to reflect on? Maybe… a person you hurt?"

Was Linda trying to stealthily guide him towards the incident with Cain? No. She wouldn't. Linda had never been less than literal, truthful, and helpful with Lucifer in their past sessions. It would be an utter betrayal of her to believe she would stoop to such a thing as leading questions.

So, Alright. Let's think about this. Who had Lucifer interacted with in the last two weeks other than Cain? Daniel, Maze, Dr. Linda… No, Lucifer hadn't done anything to hurt them recently.

Then, Lucifer's mind hit upon Ms. Lopez, and the promise he'd made to Azrael to be like a brother to her. She'd been utterly depressed at every crime scene he'd gone to the last two weeks, and Lucifer had just ignored her misery. That wouldn't do!

Lucifer stood up from the couch, having gained his sage advice and realized his wrongdoing. But even despite his distress, he still made the time to thank the doctor for her help. "You're right, doctor. I have been completely neglecting the lovely Ms. Lopez! Thank you, for helping me realize my wrongdoing."

Now done, Lucifer opened Linda's door, and stepped out into the greater office complex. Hopefully, the doctor appreciated that he'd been considerate enough not to take up the rest of her paperwork time with his session now that he'd gained enough sage wisdom from her to deal with the issues he'd been ignoring.

Lucifer made his way through the halls of the office complex where Linda worked, heading towards the closest exit. As he did so, Lucifer took his phone out, dialing Ms. Lopez's number and bringing the device up to his ear.

After a few seconds, Ms. Lopez picked up, and Lucifer started to talk into the phone. "Hello, Ms. Lopez. I'm sorry I haven't been around the last few weeks. That was my fault, but I'd like to come over to the precinct and make up for it. To… try and help you with some of your stuff for a change. Would that be alright with you?"

Ms. Lopez's voice came out of the cell phone, speaking with a voice that was obviously straining to maintain her usual sunny cheer. "That's great, Lucifer. Dan and I could actually really use the help right now, so… yeah. It would be awesome if you could come over and help."

Now that did not sound like anything good. "Ms. Lopez, what's wrong?"

At that, Ms. Lopez sighed, and though the noise would have sounded normal coming from anyone else, from Ms. Lopez it was practically a sign of the oncoming apocalypse. "You know how Dan and I get your and Chloe's cases added to our solve rate, right? Because of how we're always helping out and stuff?"

Lucifer quizzically raised an eyebrow, unsure what that had to do with anything. "No, although now that I do, is there any way I can keep Daniel from receiving that?"

There, Ms. Lopez chuckled, but it wasn't her usual bright, happy laugh. No, this laugh was all nerves and anxiety, and the stress in it told Lucifer that he needed to get over to the police precinct as soon as he could. Speed-walking out through the office complex's double doors, Lucifer headed straight for his car.

Soon enough, the laugh cut out, and Ms. Lopez once more began to speak in her voice's now further-strained tones. "Yeah, Dan's sort of wishing the same thing at the moment."

Lucifer wasn't far from his car, only a few hundred feet at this point, and as he made his way over, he had to consciously restrain himself from crushing the phone into scrap. "Ms. Lopez, what's that supposed to mean?"

Now, none of Ella's previous faux happiness remained, and all that was there was the strain. "What that means is one of LA's most notorious serial killers has killed again, and we're the ones who caught the case."

When he heard that, Lucifer stopped caring about whether he'd reveal the supernatural, and used all his angelic speed to bolt towards his car. Within a second, he was there, and even as he jumped up into the seat of his convertible, he was doing his best to reassure Ella. "Fear not, Ella. I'll be there in a moment."

Lucifer hung up.

Then, after tightening his grip on the steering wheel, he jammed the gas pedal to the floor.