It took Chloe two more days to solve the current case. It cost her a titanic effort. Dan tried to ask a couple more times, and after that he just tried to help as much as possible in the work. And the latter caused much more gratitude than his constant, unwelcome obsession.

Afterward, the detective took a whole two weeks off. The lieutenant went to meet her subordinate, since lately she has completed a whole bunch of cases (largely thanks to Lucifer, she remembered against her will). And she could not continue to try to get away from thoughts on an obvious topic with the help of work - she felt that she was starting to run out of steam and was about to fall down like a driven horse. So the decision was made to sit at home and spend time with Trixie.

But the fear hadn't gone away. On the contrary, it kept growing and growing. And it was nothing compared to what she felt after revealing the essence of her partner. It is one thing to find out that there is something that Chloe did not believe in and against which she is defenseless... and quite another to discover such something in herself! The detective desperately wanted to believe that she had imagined everything and she had not thrown a large man into the pool without much effort. However, it didn't work out. She never questioned her memory or her distorted perception of reality. And the surprise of the "thrown object" was very eloquent.

Now she was afraid that the power would return to her at the wrong moment. That she would break something fragile...or anyone. Chloe's imagination vividly depicted hugging her daughter - and she screamed in pain. It got to the point where she didn't return Trixie's hugs, only gently stroking her dark hair.

The Monkey obviously drew her own conclusions from this situation... and on the third day of her vacation she asked what she had done wrong. she, being in her thoughts, at first did not understand at all what she was talking about. And when she realized, fear began to degenerate into anger. Suppressing this feeling with difficulty, Chloe assured Trixie that she hadn't done anything wrong, it was just that her mother was very tired. Then she called the baby-sitter, who, fortunately, turned out to be free (She didn't want to ask Dan, because he would start asking questions like "where are you going on vacation that you can't take your daughter with you, Chloe?"), got into the car and drove to a place that she had noticed during one of her past investigations.

The anger was aroused and fueled by one thought: Lucifer had done this to her! That the reason was in it, the detective had no doubt - only a complete idiot could not draw a parallel between how her partner "played volleyball" with a sports agent and her "shooting shot". However, Chloe wasn't about to show up at "Lux" without preparation. A gun against the Devil was useless... however, she seemed to have an effective weapon. She just needed to figure out how to use it. There was no certainty that the Devil, having endowed her with this power, did not provide for the option of using it against himself… but that was all she had.

A dilapidated abandoned secluded building on the outskirts of the city suited her intentions perfectly. There was enough rubbish of varying severity and strength, which she was going to use in her experiments.

To begin with, she chose a piece of not too thick rebar, estimating that even an ordinary but strong enough person could at least bend it. Chloe tried this and that - the piece of iron did not succumb. Then she began to think about how her power was activated…

The first suggestion was that it might be an adrenaline rush. She tried to evoke a variety of emotions in herself. Anger at Lucifer; the rage of chasing the suspect who decided to run; a sense of danger when a barrel is poked at her, and the detective does the same– or rather, doesn't– that's just her luck; annoyance at fellow cops who thought Malcolm was a hero; even disappointment in Dan as a husband...

Not the slightest response.

Then Chloe decided to rest and think. She tried to remember what exactly she felt then... and remembered. Helplessness.

She again tried this way and that to create the right infusion in herself. Lucifer's demonstration of his invulnerability and dreams about him helped a lot - she almost burst into tears from a sense of powerlessness.

But even that was useless. No changes.

Some part of Chloe was glad about this - at least she shouldn't worry about accidentally hurting others, since no emotion provokes it. The other argued that she needed to achieve a positive result, otherwise she would remain at the mercy of a completely unpredictable being.

Stop. Emotions don't provoke… Her already tired brain could hardly catch the elusive guess. Emotions… do not provoke… But besides them, there are other thoughts. Thoughts! What was the detective thinking?

If only she could, like Lucifer, just spread her arms to the sides and throw away this drunken moron who mistook her for a prostitute...

Really...

She took a deep breath, then exhaled. And she clearly thought: if only she could, like Lucifer, bend this armature...

The familiar feeling of "reduced gravity" passed through the body. And the detective, frighteningly easily turned a straight rod into a bagel.

It was evening. Chloe drove home, terribly tired, but pleased with herself. Calling again and again, as she eventually began to call it, the devilish force, breaking and throwing with its help a variety of construction debris, she found out enough.

Power was invoked by a clear desire to use it. The wording could be different - and, being a very practical person, Chloe tried to choose the shortest possible working version. She settled on a simple "Devil's power!".

In addition, the characteristic state easily slipped away when concentration was lost, but even with full concentration, it did not last longer than fourteen seconds. Moreover, after that, she could not use the ability for a period approximately equal to the time of its use.

And, she admitted, the feel of using it was a little intoxicating... well, maybe not a little... okay whatever, it was cool! Lift heavy concrete blocks, break thick boards, tie rebar in knots...

But the detective scolded herself. Quite possibly, this is what Lucifer wanted. Beckon, offer more, and… take her soul to Hell? To be completely frank with herself, despite the colorful nightmares, she did not really believe that the purpose of her partner was to harm her. But then why? Is this such an extravagant way to get her into his bed? Come on! Although… that would be exactly the style of her partner!

With this thought, she parked in front of the house. Exhausted from physical activity and nervous tension, she hoped that this night would be without nightmares. Tomorrow she needs to be in good shape. Chloe had a very important visit coming up. One might say, devilishly important...

Most of the night passed quietly. Only in the morning she dreamed of some crap. The only thing she remembered was a pair of glowing eyes on a face hidden in the shadows. Surprisingly, it didn't raise any concerns.

"Lux" greeted Chloe with an unexpected silence. There was a sign on the door that read "Cleaning Day". she chuckled - even the branch of the Underworld on Earth, it turns out, sometimes needs cleaning. Although, given that visitors usually get up there, cleaning days were to occur every other day. Perhaps this time they had fun with a special intensity... She shuddered at this thought. Good thing she didn't catch it.

However, the bouncers let the detective inside without question.

Stepping into Lucifer's private elevator to his penthouse, she inhaled as if about to dive in, and pressed the right button. Fear retreated somewhere to the back of her consciousness, giving way to the determination to finally find out everything.

The elevator opened with a distinctive sound, letting Chloe into a familiar bright room. If a nightmarish orgy took place here yesterday, nothing betrayed it - everything shone with "pristine" purity.

The owner of this place, dressed in a black silk robe, was sitting at the piano, on which stood a glass with some fabulously expensive liquor.

"Well, Maze, they have already finished cleaning up after yesterday's hum-l-l..." Lucifer began turning around, but stopped short when he saw who had entered. He opened his mouth several times, trying to say something, but squeezing out only some quiet inarticulate sounds. Then he suddenly stood up sharply, shook himself with his whole body, cleared his throat noisily and stretched his lips in his usual smile. "Detective! And I thought that you decided to cut the Devil out of your life... But I certainly welcome your visit!"

"Yes, yes, yes…" Chloe waved her hand impatiently in front of her. It seems that she completely lost her entire reserve of composure during these two weeks. "If I'm not mistaken, you have said many times that you never lie. If so, honestly answer me honestly one question: what have you done to me?"

"Detective…" the man was surprised. "Forgive me, but, as far as I remember, I never did anything with you, although I suggested it many times. And I also want to note that my nature almost completely blocks the effects of alcohol and drugs - so I confidently declare that I could not do anything with you without remembering it, as it sometimes happens with you people. So I really don't understand what you mean…"

"You don't understand…?" Chloe muttered, feeling herself go wild. Shit…she tried her best. And he, as always, jokes! A dirty joke, a dirty joke! "You do not understand?!"

This Detective Lucifer has never seen before. Fury radiated from her, as if rolling through the room in searing hot waves. The bright eyes seemed to have become a couple of tones darker, squinting dangerously, the nostrils flared, the teeth showed from under the lips, but not at all in a smile - it was a predatory grin.

"Detective…" he put down his glass and took a step towards her, "I really don't understand what I've done to deserve such anger. As I already wrote in the message, I just wanted you not to perceive my words about your own essence as jokes or metaphors... Linda does this, and she is my psychotherapist! How is she supposed to help me if she misunderstands all my words?"

"And what does Linda and metaphors have to do with it?!" Growled the detective. Then, she suddenly assumed a completely calm air… but in fact, her fury was frozen. "Okay... well... if you don't understand, I'll demonstrate it clearly."

She smoothly approached the frozen Lucifer, brought her hand to his face, as if she wanted to stroke his cheek...

Devil's Power!

And Satan hung in the air, wheezing and kicking his legs. He instinctively grabbed the hand holding his neck in an attempt to free himself, but failed - she held him tightly.

She mentally counted five seconds, then unclenched her fingers and let go of the ability - it would be better if she recharged faster. Just in case. Lucifer collapsed awkwardly on the floor and coughed. Chloe sat down next to him, grabbed the skirts of his dressing gown and pulled him towards her already with her human strength, which she had not so little.

"And now you're going to deny it?" She growled.

However, Lucifer looked at her in such a way that for the first time the detective doubted his involvement in her new abilities. His face took on an expression… similar to that of three-year-old Trixie when Chloe slapped her on the ass for trying to rip open the socket with a kitchen knife, which scared her mother almost to heart failure. The daughter did not cry then, no... but the child's face expressed complete shock from the fact that her mother, it turns out, can not only kiss and squeeze, but also hurt. This was the first and last time Chloe raised her hand to her Monkey.

"How... What... But... I... This is…" Her partner could only squeeze out.

The detective stared at his face for a few more seconds, then sat down on the sofa next to him and covered her face with her hands. About a minute later, the furniture buckled under the weight of a man squatting beside her. Chloe lifted her head and looked at him.

"You have nothing to do with this, do you…?" she affirmed rather than asked. He nodded slightly, still looking at her, as if at the eighth wonder of the world, and rubbing his throat, on which a red mark was visible in the shape of her palm. Chloe suddenly realized that, judging by the way he was wheezing and clearing his throat, if she hadn't stopped in time, she could have strangled him. "Holy crap!" She burst out.

"Very aptly noted, Detective…" said the Devil, coughing.