Lucifer tossed the keys to the Jaguar to the valet as he walked smoothly around the front of the candy apple red convertible toward Eric. Eric had been his moody self the entire drive to Lux, where Lucifer's brother was apparently waiting in the penthouse suite, rather than grabbing a drink with his lady friend at the bar. Which was just as well, as far as Eric was concerned. After the ultimatum he'd been given by Betty White, he wasn't sure he could face Lucifer's therapist. She'd know something had changed. That more than one thing had changed, actually.

He was still processing Betty's words. About leaving Lucifer alone and going back to Shreveport and staying the fuck out of L.A. He hadn't told Lucifer—what was the point? Lucifer would get annoyed that, once again, someone was trying to limit him in what he wanted to do. Better to sit with the information himself, and try to decide what to do. But when Lucifer slipped an arm around his waist and led him toward the front doors of the club, he willingly followed, delighting in the other man's touch. In the fact that he was doing it publicly, too. And with that charming, dimpled smile on his face as he said hello to all the people still dying to get a spot in his club for the night. It was a silent claim on him; showing others that they were both—at least for the moment—off-limits.

A quick nod to the bouncer and Lucifer ushered Eric inside to the sound of thumping club music. Almost immediately Eric lost contact with Lucifer as the crowd of well-to-do partiers nearly dragged the devil into their midst, excited to see the charismatic club owner. Anxiety rose in Eric's throat, watching Lucifer's dark head bob away from him into the club, surrounded by the richest and poshest of Los Angeles. The night was foreshadowing Eric's future, he decided. Because if he was a smart vampire, he'd leave Lucifer to Los Angeles and disappear back to the shadows of Shreveport, never to see the devil again.

If he was a smart vampire.

Eric moved with the flow of the crowd as the people gravitated toward the stairs, almost as if they were escorting Lucifer as he made his way down to the second floor. Eric stopped at the railing and watched as Lucifer was spit out of the crowd into the empty space that surrounded the baby grand piano. Eric was anxious about being separated and he was half tempted to vault over the railing and jump to the floor below just so he could catch up with Lucifer. Once again, he seemed to be the only vampire in the club though, and he knew the humans probably wouldn't appreciate vampiric feats of strength and agility. The last thing Eric needed was to start a stampede in Lux—although perhaps that would be one way to break things off with the handsome devil. No better way to ruin a relationship than by completely ruining your lover's place of business.

Suddenly, much to Eric's shock, the people all around him began to chant. It started simple enough, with Lucifer's name. "LU-CI-FER! LU-CI-FER!" He looked around, watching as the chant began to spread from one floor to the next, people abandoning their drinks and leaving the dance floor. Whatever the hell they wanted, it seemed the entire hoard of humans was in agreement. It was apparent that this wasn't the first time something like this had happened in Lux.

This shit would never fly in Fangtasia. Eric was a god there—you did not demand of a god. You grovelled.

After a few minutes of the chanting though, with Lucifer looking bashful but pleased as punch, the club music cut off abruptly and the chant changed. "SING! SING! SING!"

"Oh, but I couldn't!" Lucifer called above them, waving a hand and exuding a bashful pleasure. But the chant only grew more insistent. It soon morphed into "SING FOR US! SING FOR US!"

"Well, alright," Lucifer finally said, pretending he was giving in to peer pressure. But Eric could tell by his body language that he was absolutely ecstatic that they'd focused their attention on him. He liked being sought after. He wanted these people to demand things of him. They loved him, just for being himself—and in return, he loved them back. Which made it all the more curious that he adored that Chloe Decker, who seemed to barely tolerate him.

The crowd finally hushed as Lucifer went to the piano and sat down. There was a wireless microphone sitting on the perfectly polished lid, and he picked it up to flick a switch. "Mazikeen!" he called out into the silence and suddenly the lights went out and a spotlight lit the piano. A cheer went up as he settled himself on the bench and placed the mic close to hand.

Did this happen often at Lux? Eric couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. It was like out of some sappy, corny movie—the kind that people never fucking rewound when returning it to his video store. Outward he was cringing as Lucifer prepared to sing the crowd a song. Inward, he was hanging onto Lucifer's every movement. He'd never witnessed anything like this before, and he was morbidly curious.

Lucifer looked at the keyboard, hands raised, fingers wiggling and ready to start, but then he leaned into the mic. "Don't expect something fast," he told his crowd, but there were no boos. Instead, the people settled, quieted down so they could apparently hang off of Lucifer's every word and note. "This is for the drop-dead tall blonde I walked in with," Lucifer told the audience and then his hands dove to the keyboard and began to play an upbeat melody.

Eric dropped his head into his hand, feeling mortified at being singled out. But when he bothered to look up, no one was even paying him any mind. They were all focused on Lucifer, no matter where in the club they were. Lucifer was engrossed, fingers jumping over the keys as he played the intro to a familiar song, something a few decades old. Not fast but not slow either. Something in between and happy. His head was bowed, dark hair matching the gleaming black finish of the piano. He and his piano were the only things in the club in light, everything else dimmed and darkened. As a vampire, it didn't matter though—Eric could see everything just fine. He began to edge his way down the stairs, aiming for the bar where Maze was hovering, watching her boss with a curious look on her face.

Eric's steps faltered as Lucifer began to sing, his voice surprisingly beautiful and in tune. "It's a little bit funny . . . this feeling inside . . ." Lucifer wasn't just playing a song on the piano. He was playing the Piano Man. Eric paused from his trajectory to try to catch a glimpse of the other man through the crowd surrounding the piano. It was a bit of a surprise when he immediately locked eyes with Lucifer, the man crooning directly at him. The tiny smile that accompanied the words did something to him and suddenly the embarrassment seemed to disappear. This was what being with Lucifer—and being loved by Lucifer—would be like.

Over the top professions of love. Designer clothes. Driving through the warm night with the top down and the wind in their hair. Public displays of affection. Their eyes seeking each other out through an entire crowd. A connection like no other.

God, if he could, he'd tie this man to himself for the rest of eternity.

Shoulders slumping, he turned away from the serenading devil and made his way to the bar. After that visit with Betty White, he knew it was pointless. Unless he could convince the devil to leave Los Angeles and live out in Shreveport, where Eric was the Sheriff of the tiny little Area 5, he couldn't safely do so. And Eric simply could not imagine Lucifer in southern Louisiana. More importantly, he didn't want to see him there. Even Pam hated it there, and she was far from the social butterfly Lucifer clearly was. Lucifer would hate it there—he would wilt. And Eric didn't want that—he wanted Lucifer bright and excitable; the man he had fallen in love with.

It was going to be hard parting company though. Spending time with Lucifer . . . well, it had changed Eric. He'd gone through a lot of changes in the last couple of months, but he'd liked this kind of change. He was beginning to control his emotions again. Dare he say it? Lucifer made him happy.

Happy.

He hadn't truly felt that in a very, very long time.

It didn't matter, though.

He'd seen the way Betty had looked at Lucifer. Perhaps she didn't think he was the actual devil, but she knew with certainty that he wasn't a human. He was different, unique. Which would make him a delectable, rare treat if a vampire could sink their teeth into him. The fact that he was clearly dangerous, too—well, that would just make the hunt that much more sweet.

This was like Sookie all over again.

That was the problem with Eric's taste—he always fell for the special ones.

And everyone else invariably always wanted a taste.

"He's singing to you, you know," Maze said as she sidled up to him on the opposite side of the bar.

Eric sighed. "Yes, I'm aware." He should feel far more embarrased than he currently was. No one had ever been so publicly forward about this sort of thing before. And yes, it made him feel uncomfortable—but there was a zing of excitement there, too. This man wasn't embarrassed to say he was falling for a vampire. A male vampire, at that. There was flattery in there, somewhere.

And crazy as it sounded, he actually did feel . . . special.

Disgusting. Eric was becoming a disgusting sap.

"Not your cup of tea, huh?" Maze said, pulling a blade out of her belt to pick under her perfect nails. The blade was sharp. Dangerous. It looked perfectly at home in her hands.

"Not usually," Eric admitted. Nor did it matter. With Amenadiel waiting upstairs to give them news, Eric's time in L.A. was drawing to a close. And with Betty's threat hovering over Eric's head, it was just as well.

Oh, but it would hurt to go. He knew that without a shadow of a doubt. Even with the man staring him down as he changed the lyrics of the Rocket Man's song from sun to moon. Lucifer was serenading him, and Eric's chest was tight with too many emotions—and he was going to fall apart when he left. Eric just knew it.

Keeping himself safe from the wrath of a vampire Queen was going to break his fucking heart. Eric slumped further against the bar, depressed.

This might actually be worse than with Sookie.

"Generally his singing doesn't get this kind of reaction out of someone," Maze said, eyeing the vampire. "Either they're ecstatic or they get angry."

"It's not his singing," Eric griped. "His singing is fine."

"I admit, it can be annoying. But it's nothing to get sad over."

"I said it wasn't his singing!" Eric snapped.

"Then what is it?" Maze asked, sneering right back. "He's clearly got a thing for you. He made me promise to keep my hands off, so you must be something special."

"It's almost over," Eric said, not sure why he was confiding in Maze where he never would have with Pam. Perhaps because she was a stranger, and he didn't have to run his fucking bar with her by his side. She would be insufferable to Lucifer, not to Eric. "We're going to find the answer and then I'm going to go back home and that will be it. Done. Finished." Eric hissed, hating the idea.

"And that's a problem?" Maze asked, clearly curious.

Eric scowled. "Yes."

"Why?"

He dragged his gaze away from Lucifer who had gone into a very complicated piano solo. It wasn't easy to do—he found himself enjoying what he saw. He looked at Maze, noticing the concern on her face. She loved her boss, he realized. She was just like Pam. No, it was more than that. Her relationship with Lucifer was just like his and Pam's. There was more to it than just boss and subordinate, maker and child. They'd been lovers, confidantes, friends. Not any more, but at one point. She still cared—and apparently she was worried about Lucifer and Eric together.

"I do not want to go home," Eric told her severely. "I'd stay if I could, but that's not the way the world works, does it?"

Maze shrugged. "I just take what I want. Fuck the world."

"Normally, I'd agree," Eric said, turning back to see Lucifer singing again, pouring his heart into the song. If Eric had a heartbeat, it would have doubled watching him. Lucifer, for all his complicated feelings about his Detective, seemed to have a soft spot for Eric too. Was there love between the two of them? Could there be? Was it more than just one sided? "But as a vampire, I don't belong in the Los Angeles hierarchy. Specifically unwelcomed, actually."

"Fuck them too then," Maze replied.

Eric smiled, wishing it could be that easy.

He felt a hand on his shoulder as she pushed him, trying to get him to move. Lucifer was clearly finishing up his song and it seemed Eric had passed some sort of test with Maze. "He's singing to you, you idiot. If you don't understand that's an invitation to be part of his Los Angeles, not some vampire's Los Angeles, then you're a fucking idiot and you don't deserve him."

She was right, Eric reasoned. But what did he do? His thoughts were like torture.

He left the bar then, weaving through the crowd of people standing silently as Lucifer leaned into the microphone a final time, his fingers still running along the keyboard just as perfectly as if he were Elton John himself. ". . . how wonderful life is now you're in the world . . ."

Eric broke through the crowd and crossed the invisible line where the party-goers refused to cross into the piano's space, just asLucifer was finishing a final flourish on the piano. Lucifer looked up, smiling softly at Eric as the last note resonated in the silent club. Eric couldn't stop staring back, desperate to be lost in those dark brown eyes. Lucifer stood just as the crowd started to cheer and he offered a small bow to them before walking around the piano and pulling Eric toward him.

Eric let himself be pulled and when the devil planted a quick, innocent kiss on Eric's lips he responded, drawing it out longer than it needed to be. Lucifer's little crowd really liked that and a second cheer went up. He could feel Lucifer smile against his lips and only pulled back when it was cleat Lucifer wanted to speak. "Seems they like you, Viking," he said, lips close to Eric's ear and his breath warm against him.

Lucifer was decidedly making Eric's decision to preserve his own life very hard to keep.

Lucifer slid his arm through Eric's, thanked the crowd for their love, and then called Maze's name again. The lights came back on, the music began to flow from the speakers, and the people started to disperse. Most gravitated toward the bar, but others headed back to the dancefloor. Lucifer tugged Eric along, heading for the elevator that would lead up to his penthouse suite. Eric was happy to follow, wanting to stay within Lucifer's warmth forever.

When they stepped into the elevator and the doors slid shut, he had every intention of just standing next to the man, but as the music became muffled and the elevator car began to move upward, it was Lucifer who turned on him, pushing Eric into the wall and kissing him soundly. Hips grinding into him, hands in his hair, Eric found himself the centre of Lucifer's attention. Eric's fangs came out involuntarily and when Lucifer asked for more, Eric willingly parted his lips. When he responded to the devil by catching Lucifer's lower lip with his fangs, the other man groaned, almost pleading.

Eric melted at the noise, all of his problems falling away. Suddenly, it wasn't Eric pressed against the wall, but Lucifer. Eric placed his palms on the wall on either side of Lucifer's head as Lucifer's hands strayed down his body to find his hips. Eric's kisses grew hard and he drew away from Lucifer's mouth, craving the rough sensation of stubble against his lips. Lucifer lifted his chin, exposing his neck to Eric and the vampire nearly lost control at that, desperate to do as Lucifer was silently asking.

It was somehow different this time. He could feel Lucifer trembling, their two bodies pressed tight against each other. There was no talk about vulnerability, no insisting that he could be or do something. He hadn't asked to prove himself. Just a silent plea for something more.

Eric laid his fangs against the offered throat, not breaking skin but scraping them down the length of Lucifer's neck. Lucifer shuddered beneath him, the man's breath hitching.

Yes, this time was definitely different.

This time . . .

The thought of Betty and her threat was there in the back of his mind, but he found he simply didn't give a shit. The devil was begging to be his. He'd be a fucking idiot—as Maze had said—if he didn't pounce on the offer. Damn the fucking consequences.

The sound of the elevator door trundling open wasn't going to stop Eric. Who fucking cared? The doors could close again and they'd continue what Lucifer had started. The disgusted sigh that came from just beyond the elevator did stop him though, and Eric growled in anger. He dropped his head, his forehead hitting Lucifer's shoulder as the devil's brother spoke. "Really, Luci? You can't wait until after we meet?"

Lucifer's hands were still on Eric's hips and Eric could feel the tension in the devil's fingers as he, too, grew frustrated at this new intrusion. Were they forever going to be interrupted every time they made out?

Eric's growl deepened as he turned away from Lucifer to glare at Amenadiel. He couldn't think of anyone he hated more in that current moment.

Amenadiel met his stare. "Try me," he said, clearly confident in his own immortality.

Lucifer grabbed Eric's arm, pulling him close. "It's fine, Viking. Amenadiel will tell us what he knows and then he will be on his merry way. Yes?"

"If you insist," Amenadiel said, backing further into the apartment so that the two men could come in.

Eric's teeth sheathed quickly as he realized—he was about to find out what happened to vampire souls. All thoughts of sex and blood disappeared as he surged forward and into Lucifer's apartment. A sudden desperation hit him.

What was Amenadiel going to say?