"I've been to Louisiana and back," Lucifer informed the woman.
"Louisiana? Why the fuck for?" The words were spat out like venom.
Lucifer sighed insufferably. "What do you think?" he asked.
"Running away from Chloe again?" The woman rolled her eyes. "You've become so predictable."
Lucifer sat up straighter, pretending to wipe away a piece of lint from his perfect shirt. "I didn't run from Chloe," he huffed.
"No, you ran from your feelings," Linda observed.
Lucifer threw up his hands. "Must you all gang up on me?" Lucifer glanced at Eric. "In front of guests?" His question was met with silence. "Look, it doesn't matter what I was running from. Point is, I went to Louisiana and met my first vampire."
The bartender glanced toward Eric, the disdain on her face clearing to show interest instead. "You're a vampire?"
"The only one in Lux, it seems," Eric agreed.
"Right. Eric, meet Maze. Maze, this is Eric Northman, vampire, Viking, and decidedly not a replacement for the Detective." Lucifer gave Linda a snotty look, as if daring her to disagree.
Linda held her hands up placatingly, nodding her head. "No, you're right, Lucifer. Eric is definitely not a replacement for Chloe."
Eric, though, was looking at Maze. She'd begun to give Lucifer hell again and Eric realized Lucifer had spoken of her before, stating that Maze would love Pam. And now that he was assessing her, he decided Lucifer was correct. They were both sarcastic and bitchy. And considering Maze was the bartender, she also wasn't afraid to disrespect her boss, either. And she did it with flair.
Eric couldn't help the appreciation in his eyes as he looked her over—all leather, very tight fitting but supple. Studs, chains. A perfect figure. Just enough cleavage showing to whet one's appetite. A dark complexion, with darker eyes. Her mahogany brown hair styled straight to look silky soft, despite the promise of violence in her eyes. The same belligerent cast to her posture as Pam, signifying she was looking for a fight, and would enjoy drawing first blood.
Oh, yes. This woman was like Pam alright. Perhaps they didn't share similar taste in clothes, but they'd be a force if they teamed up against their superiors. Sarcastic, powerful bitches, the both of them. And besides, Eric had always been fond of leather against silk, chains tangled in lace. He wore the leather; Pam wore the velvet. It had always been that way.
"You're right," Eric said, interrupting Maze's reaming out of the devil. "She and Pam would get along fabulously." Both in and out of bed, if Maze would allow it. Pam hadn't taken a male lover in decades. This woman would be perfect for her.
This got a smile from Lucifer. "See? I'm right, aren't I?"
"Like two mismatched peas in a pod," Eric agreed.
Maze stopped her tirade, "Been talking about me?" she accused, and then pushed herself into the booth next to Eric. Eric slung his arms over the back of the booth, allowing more room for the women on either side of him.
"Of course I've been talking about you, Maze. What's not to talk about?" Lucifer smiled. "Besides, pretty sure I've met your perfect match. Problem is, she's back in Louisiana."
Maze gave a far-from-delicate snort of dry laughter at that. "You think I'd go for some backwoods yahoo? Maybe you don't know me at all."
Eric shifted, so he could look at her. "You don't know Pam," he countered. "I promise you, she's no backwoods yahoo. And she's constantly letting me know how much she suffers the small town life. When I first met Pam, she was in San Francisco and she was very well to-do, in her own right."
Maze rolled her eyes. "Whatever."
"If you'd prefer someone older and wiser than my hundred year old progeny, there's always me," Eric said. "I don't mind insolence on occasion," he admitted. He leaned closer to her and scented the air, freezing in his approach to her when he realized, once again, that this was no mere human. He pulled back, "What are you?" he asked. She didn't smell like Lucifer. Or like Pierce. And she sure as hell wasn't a fairy.
What the hell was with Los Angeles? Was it like Bon Temps? A nexus for the supernatural?
"I'm a demon," Maze said boldly. "Got a problem with that?"
Eric's gaze flickered to Lucifer who nodded confirmation. "She accompanied me here when I first left hell. We've yet to be back since."
"Unfortunately," Maze said sourly.
"Tired of the earthly delights?" Eric question as he wrapped his head around the idea of demons walking in daylight. It was surprisingly easy. He was already certain that he was falling in love with the devil, why not add subservient but surly demons to the list of things he was beginning to believe in?
"Tired of this bullshit morality thing," Maze said. "I'd rather be torturing souls."
"Nothing stopping you from torturing people while they're still alive," Eric commented.
"Are you offering?" Maze shot back, and she gave him a quick look up and down. "You might be fun to have begging me for mercy."
"Haven't you heard?" Eric asked, letting his voice come out a purr. He could flirt with Maze in such a way he couldn't with Lucifer—he had zero emotional attachment to this woman, and it felt freeing to do so. He couldn't give two fucks if she turned him down, but if she did accept a good roll in the hay maybe he could at least vent some of his sexual frustration. He could consider it as screening the woman to see if she would be a good match for Pam. If she was, maybe he could send Pam this way and she'd leave him the hell alone with his moody thoughts. "It appears I don't have a soul."
"Don't be ridiculous, Viking," Lucifer shot out from across the table. He sounded upset. "We've already gone over this. You have a soul—we just don't know where it is." Eric glanced at him to see Lucifer was upset. It seemed he didn't like Eric and Maze flirting. Why? Was Maze perhaps off-limits?
Eric shrugged, pretending like Lucifer's reaction didn't matter to him. "It's currently not on me. Might make torturing me harder to accomplish." He turned back to Maze to give her a toothy grin that promised a delightfully painful night. "I've never fought and fucked with a demon before."
"In that order?" Maze was quick to reply, then stopped, surprise crossing her face. "Wait, you're just taking this in stride? You believe me?"
"Well, he's the devil, isn't he?" Eric asked, nodding toward the brooding Lucifer.
Maze looked to her boss. "He believes you? Just like that? In a handful of days?"
"Took him just one day to sleep on it," Lucifer replied, sounding smug and happy.
"This one believes you that quickly, and still you moon over a Detective who isn't even interested in you?" Maze sneers at him.
Yes, Eric decided. She was just like Pam. Not knowing when to curb her attitude. At times it was entertaining, at other times insufferable.
"I don't moon over anyone," Lucifer shot back at her. "Watch your tone with me, Mazikeen."
"Or you'll what?" she countered, clearly not knowing when to stop. "Send me back to hell? Please, I'm begging you. Torture me, Lucifer. Put me in my place."
Lucifer sighed and flopped back into the cushions, glancing around the table as if asking the others if they saw the bullshit he had to put up with. However, when it was apparent that Lucifer wasn't going to punish her for her insolence, she turned back to the vampire in the booth, showing interest in him. "So a vampire, huh? Where's the fangs?"
Eric dutifully popped them out, giving the demon a smile and a growl.
"You like to be a predator, do you?" Maze asked, giving him a mutual snarl back.
"I don't like to be," Eric said. "I am one."
She gave him another once over. "Prove it."
Eric's growl turned lustful. Now here was someone who actually fucking responded.
"Do you mind?" Lucifer's foot shot out and kicked Eric in the shin. Eric's snarl turned real as his attention shifted to the man sitting across from him.
"What?" he hissed. If Lucifer couldn't let him flirt with the demon then why was he even being shown off to all these people? Eric was his new vampire friend, but it was clear back behind the club that that was all that he was. A friend with fangs. The demon, on the other hand, seemed ready and willing to have a bit of fun and at this point in Eric's night, he really needed to let off some steam. Somehow.
And if she was a demon, he wouldn't have to be careful, like he would with a willing human partner. In fact, maybe she'd have to be careful. Now wasn't that a novel idea?
"My apologies, Viking. That was meant for Maze. I didn't bring Eric here for you to flirt with. I brought him here to seek help from brother dearest, who doesn't seem to be willing unfortunately."
"Help?" Maze asked. "So you've only come back to ask questions and then you'll be gone again? Typical."
"Well, I didn't say that, did I?" Lucifer grumbled. "But I'm going to find the answer to the Viking's question, even if it requires some effort."
"Why is that?" Linda asked. "You say it's important to you, but you won't tell us why."
Lucifer sighed, rolling his eyes as he folded his arms across his chest. "Does it matter why? I just do."
"I think it's important. You won't tell us why you're so concerned; why Mr. Northman is important to you. But you also won't let Maze get to know him better. How come?"
"Why does it matter?" Lucifer asked, upset again.
Linda leaned into the table, staring Lucifer down. "Why won't you talk about it?" she countered.
Lucifer blew his breath out through his nose in an angry huff and refused to speak. Linda tapped a finger against the table. "You see, Eric, Lucifer doesn't like being vulnerable. More often than not, he'll run from a situation rather than confront the hard questions. Or admit to his feelings."
"I can be, vulnerable, Doctor," Lucifer replied testily.
"Can you though?" Linda asked.
Lucifer's eyelids flickered, almost as if he was trying to hold in his anger. Eric couldn't blame him. The therapist was being awfully blunt in her assessment of him, and whether it was true or not, she could learn to use some tact. Or not fucking assess him in front of friends and family. Wasn't she off hours?
Lucifer finally seemed to collect himself, and he turned away from Linda and directed himself to his brother again. "Please, Amenadiel. Save me from myself and go visit the Silver City."
Amenadiel sighed. "Fine, I'll go. But Luci, you might not like the answers I find."
"Any answer is better than no answer at all," Lucifer said. "And besides, I was told Dad is missing—I assumed you'd want to pop on up there to see if they're telling me the truth. If Dad truly is missing, shouldn't you be concerned?"
This got a serious nod from Amenadiel, and a surprised gasp from Maze.
"God is missing? What is it with you and your family going on walkabouts?" Lucifer gave Maze a withering look, but it was nothing like the fire in his eyes when she'd been flirting with Eric. "No one running Hell, no one running Heaven." Maze paused, her eyes glittering with mirth. "Nothing new, I guess."
"Luci, can we talk in private?" Amenadiel asked.
"About what?" Lucifer asked.
"About Dad," came the reply.
Lucifer sighed. "Alright," he said as he scooted out of the booth. He pointed at Eric. "Viking, don't go anywhere." Then he pointed and glared at Maze. "You bloody better get back to work."
"Oh, I will," she said smugly. "When I'm ready." She leaned into Eric, and Lucifer's hand came down on the table hard.
"Now," he told her, fire in his eyes.
Maze rolled her eyes as she stood up from the booth. "You never let me have any fun."
"There's no fun for you with my vampire," Lucifer snapped at her as he pushed her toward the bar. "There are people waiting for their drinks, Maze. The bar can't run itself, you know."
If Eric had a pulse, it would have raced at that sentence. His vampire. When was the last time someone had used possessive terms for Eric? Godric, of course. It was always Eric announcing someone belonged to him.
Eric watched Lucifer and Amenadiel slowly make their way toward an elevator door, where they slipped inside when the doors opened. As the doors shut behind them Eric slumped in the booth. Linda was still there, scooting to make some room between them, but Eric kept his arms over the top of the cushions. He looked less broody and more . . . mysterious when he did that. Because he certainly was broody at the moment—not that he needed the therapist to know that.
Linda was watching him, a finger tapping against her chin and a tiny smile on her lips. "He does, you know," she finally said.
"He does what?" Eric asked, not following her train of thought.
"Look at you like he looks at her." Linda grabbed her drink and sipped it. "Oh, it's not completely the same. But he's definitely infatuated, if that was something you were hoping for."
"Infatuated . . ." Eric said slowly, testing the word out and what it meant coming from a therapist. Infatuation wasn't love. It wasn't what he'd wanted first with Sookie, and now maybe with Lucifer.
Infatuation was a passing fancy.
No, he'd had many of those in the past thousand years, and this was decidedly not a passing fancy, an infatuation.
"Not the best word of choice, you're right," Linda soothed. "It's more than infatuation. It's very obvious he respects you, and I can see you give him the same respect back. That's something he's been lacking in recent relationships. I'm not sure he knows what to do with it."
"Why are you telling me this?" Eric asked, partly appalled at her gossiping about Lucifer but also secretly excited at the prospect that maybe, just maybe the man was interested.
"Because I also see how you're looking at him," Linda told him. "And even though your friendship is new, it's based on mutual respect." Linda leaned closer to Eric, her eyes scanning the people to make sure Lucifer wasn't coming back. "I'd much rather see him with someone who cares about his emotional welfare. Which you do." She smiled broadly at the vampire. "You can't possibly convince me that you wouldn't want to take this friendship to a different level."
Eric was silent, his own eyes roving over the people around them, searching for Lucifer.
"You're not exactly subtle," Linda told him when he continued to ignore her.
Eric growled. "I've never had reason to be subtle," he replied. "I usually take what I want."
"Then why haven't you done that here?" Linda asked. "You do want him, don't you?"
Eric scowled at her. "Of course I do," he said. "Stop analyzing me."
"I just want to help, Eric." Linda reached a hand out to pat him kindly on the knee under the table. "If you're so used to taking what you want, why haven't you tried taking him?" Linda gave him a knowing look. "I know Lucifer. He would not turn down any opportunity if it presented itself. He's a very . . . adventurous person."
"Know that from experience?" Eric shot back, uncomfortable with the thoughts she was making him have. Why hadn't he initiated something yet? He'd never been shy to express his interest before. Or take something he thought he deserved. But Lucifer . . . almost from the beginning, he knew he wouldn't do that with him.
"Deflecting, are we?" Linda accused.
When Eric refused to say anything, Linda continued. "Look, all I'm saying is Lucifer deserves love. I assume so do you. But if that's what you're looking for, you're going to have to make the first move. Lucifer believes in boundaries and he respects them even when they hurt him. And he really is quite terrified of being vulnerable—he's been hurt too many times by those he desperately loves."
Linda straightened suddenly, sipping on her drink again. Eric looked up to see Lucifer and Amenadiel coming back. Both of them looked serious, but neither looked angry at least. It seemed they'd come to some sort of truce. Eric, on the other hand, suddenly had a lot to think about. And while he appreciated a club as hopping as this one, he really did need to get somewhere quiet where he could piece together his thoughts—now that Linda had given him something to chew on.
He was up and out of the booth before Lucifer could arrive, and when the devil did, he looked concerned. "Is something the matter?" Lucifer asked.
Eric shook his head. "No. I was just getting ready to head back to the hotel."
Lucifer bit his lip, thinking. "I suppose it is best if you get back before the sun starts rising. But I was hoping we could still spend some time together. Mind if I accompany you back? My turn to fly us." He gave Eric a charming smile.
Well, Eric couldn't say no to that. Certainly not after what Linda had told him. So he waited as Lucifer said a few last words to Amenadiel, gave the angel and the therapist appropriate goodbyes, and then followed the devil toward the same elevator he had recently disappeared to.
The ride up the elevator wasn't silent—Lucifer chatted the entire time. The short conversation with his brother had to do with his father, and not to worry, Viking, it had nothing to do with you. It was just best to sometimes leave family drama within the confines of the family. When the doors opened again, they came out into the penthouse suite of the tower.
A massive, open concept suite of rooms lay before Eric, and he marvelled at how opulent Lucifer's home was. With a lit up bar that matched the club below, Lucifer wouldn't have to walk more than ten strides from the bedroom that was up two or three steps beyond to get himself a nightcap. A twin baby grand piano to the one downstairs occupied a place of honour close to the elevator, and there was a lavish living room area with plenty of couches and chairs—and what looked to be sex toys strewn about.
Lucifer caught Eric's surprised look and suddenly rushed over, tidying up, and shoving things under cushions like Eric wouldn't know what he was doing. "Please excuse the mess," he said. "I hadn't been expecting guests, and I've sort of left the place a mess in the past few weeks." The devil was blushing. Blushing!
How about that.
Eric moved further into the suite, trying to peek into the bedroom. A massive bed with the sheets strewn about, Eric found he could imagine himself there—lost in those sheets for days. His gaze slid back to Lucifer, who was kicking a rather large dildo underneath a sofa. Did the man not understand that Eric had worse back at Fangtasia, beneath the club?
An orgy with the devil . . .
Well, he certainly wouldn't turn down that if it ever came up.
"Right, this doesn't matter, does it?" Lucifer said, straightening up. "Follow me."
Lucifer led Eric out onto his balcony, where the breeze lifted Eric's hair and Los Angeles twinkled below and around them. Eric had to admit to himself, as he surveyed Tinseltown, that it was far more alluring than Shreveport. And far from the weirdness that Bon Temps seemed to give off. Pam would give an arm and a leg and her new progeny if they could leave that backwoods town behind. And Eric was almost sure that Bill would let him leave Louisiana if it meant they never had to deal with each other again.
It certainly was breathtaking from up here, too.
But perhaps Eric was putting the cart before the horse.
Linda might have told him that Lucifer was interested, but that didn't mean she was right. And besides, Eric needed to decide if it was worth the risk. He'd already tried giving his heart to someone, and that had failed spectacularly. Why try again? If Lucifer's therapist thought Lucifer had an issue with vulnerability, she'd never met the Eric that existed before the witches had gotten their hands on him. Eric was very, very good at protecting his heart. And there was a reason for that.
He didn't do well with heartbreak.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Lucifer asked, thinking Eric was admiring the cityscape before him and not thinking about whether it was worth risking his heart again.
"Absolutely," Eric agreed. "I can show you the way to the hotel if you'd like."
"Oh no, Viking. You flew me here. It's my turn. Wouldn't you like to know what flight is like with wings?"
"When you put it like that," Eric said.
Be in Lucifer's arms. . . how could a Viking say no?
Lucifer smiled, that light in his eyes tugging at something in Eric's chest. The sound of feathers rustling and then the wings stretched out behind Lucifer, softly glowing in the dark of the night. Lucifer held out a hand. "Shall we go?" he asked.
Eric reached out to grab Lucifer's hand.
Yes. Yes, they shall.
