A growl rattled deep in Eric's throat and Lucifer pulled himself from his grip to see who was pissing off—and insulting—the vampire. A man with sandy blonde hair and a scruff that wasn't quite stubble but also not quite a beard either, shot through with silver, stood in the doorway, just behind Ella. He was in a blue plaid shirt, tucked neatly into a pair of clean blue jeans with a belt buckle that was just a tiny bit too big for his frame, the outfit somehow matching the slight southern accent that told Lucifer the man clearly came from Shreveport, or perhaps the little town of Bon Temps—from out of Eric's past.

He wasn't a particularly large man, although standing so close to Ella offset his short height, making him seem tall. But if he came any closer to Lucifer and Luci's vampire, he'd definitely have to be looking up to keep eye contact. For such a small man, he certainly had a lot of balls to be insulting the thousand year old vampire though. Clearly the two had some history and it bothered Lucifer that he didn't know it.

"It's been a few months and my dear Viking has yet to try to kill me," Lucifer said hotly, eyeing the man and trying to decide how much of a threat he was. "I've also not seen him kill anyone. And I can assure you, we spend ample enough time together for me to judge that." Lucifer mused, a slow smile crossing his face, a devilish light coming to his eyes. "Although I suppose sex has always been involved, in one way or another. Hasn't it, Eirikr?"

Satisfaction washed over him when he saw something flicker behind Eric's icy cold stare. Warmth. Warmth that Lucifer put there. It felt good knowing he had that affect on someone.

Lucifer went to roll down his sleeve, but Eric stopped him with a strong hand on his arm. Lucifer frowned as Eric pricked his thumb with a single, sharp fang, and then rubbed a couple drops of blood over the marks on Lucifer's wrist, thus healing them. Yet again, Lucifer was left without proof of Eric's claim upon him. "I wish you wouldn't do that," he complained.

"Fang marks are not a badge of honour," Eric said, giving the devil a frown of his own. "If you see a human with marks, it means the vampire does not respect or value the person enough to heal them. That or an exchange of money was made. I would hope you would want me to value you and show it by giving you my blood."

Lucifer wanted to pout—he wanted to be able to show off that he was in a special relationship with a vampire—but it was hard to argue Eric's logic. And Eric was the vampire expert here, not him.

Eric was saying he respected Lucifer. Which, if Luci had to admit it, didn't happen very often with the people he loved.

"Aww, I think the vampire is saying he has feelings for you, Lucifer," Ella looked smitten at the idea.

"Feelings," Eric sneered, but Lucifer knew it was all bluster. A second later and the snarl was gone from Eric's face, replaced by a soft look. Oh, he was about to gaze at Lucifer. "Lucifer is mine," he said, which got an eye roll from the strange man, but just about melted Ella into a cooing goo.

"Typical of you to treat your new friend like an object, Eric," the man in the door said.

"He's just as much mine as I am his," Lucifer shot back, not liking how Eric was being treated. He stuck a hand out toward the man. "I don't believe we've met. Lucifer Morningstar, the devil at your service."

The man hesitated a moment, as if weighing Lucifer's words. He finally shook, an unsure look marring his face. "Sam Merlotte."

"And to what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?" Lucifer asked.

"I'm Ella Lopez," Ella butted in, but her eyes were on Eric, not on Sam, clearly hoping for the vampire to shake her hand.

Lucifer jostled into Eric, encouraging the vampire to be friendly.

"Eric," he said shortly, eyeing the woman's hand. It was clear he wasn't certain how he felt about how much energy Ella had, but he eventually grudgingly shook her hand.

"There's a problem in Bon Temps," Sam said, eyes going back to Eric. "I went looking for you only for Pam to tell me you'd left."

"You talk shit about me but still think you can ask for my help?" Eric asked, folding his arms over his chest. It didn't look quite so domineering without his leather jacket, but the ice in his eyes would make the devil shiver if it had been directed at him. "If it's a vampire problem, go to Bill. I'm not anyone's whipping boy any longer."

"Well, that's just it. It's not really a vampire problem," Sam said. He looked at Ella and Lucifer and then frowned. "It's a supernatural problem, don't get me wrong. But it's affecting others, not vampires."

"And why do you think I care?"

"You know, that's a good question," Sam said. "I did go to see your King—"

Eric coughed and interrupted. "Not my King anymore."

"—but he didn't seem very interested in the problem either. Told me if it didn't affect his people, it wasn't something he needed to look into. I swear, Bill Compton has become increasingly selfish and uncaring."

"And so your second choice is me?" Eric asked, incredulous.

Sam sighed. "Look, I don't know what to do. For all that I don't trust you, I know you get shit done when there's a threat."

"Maybe Bill has a point. If it's not affecting vampires, why should I help?" Eric asked, turning his back on the smaller man and moving into the office area.

"Pam told me why you left Shreveport," Sam said, voice getting louder as Eric moved away. "Why would you open a supernatural detective agency if you're going to turn away those in need?"

Lucifer saw Eric's shoulders hunch, but it was the promise of a mystery that turned the devil toward Sam. "You're absolutely correct. Please, come in. We can discuss your problem and see what we can do to help."

Lucifer led Sam to the collection of couches and he sat across from him, wondering why Eric was being a little shit to the man—or more correctly, why Sam was being a little shit to Eric. Eric was definitely a reactionary sort of vampire, and it was clear to Lucifer that there was some beef between the two of them.

A moment later, Ella plunked down on the couch next to Lucifer, an eager look on her face. "Are you telling me there are other mythical creatures out there, not just vampires?"

Sam seemed to clam up, looking at the vampire across the room instead.

"Of course there are," Lucifer soothed. "Logic dictates that if there's one myth rooted in reality, so should more. Eric has told me that werewolves exist, and I've even met one. And fairies, can you imagine that?" Lucifer gave Ella a winning smile. "And angels, don't forget we exist."

Ella rolled her eyes at him, having long ago assumed Lucifer was an eccentric, just like most humans did.

"Can you not give away our secrets?" Sam asked, looking worried.

"Don't worry, little mutt. Lucifer isn't aware of you or your particular talents," Eric said from his spot by his desk. He snapped his laptop shut and opened a drawer to stuff all of the receipts into. "If you want to come to our supernatural detective agency seeking help, then you need to accept that everyone who works here is in on your little secrets though." Eric leaned against his desk and glared at Sam. "Lucifer can't possibly expect to help you if he doesn't know what he's working with."

"I'm safe to talk to, too," Ella insisted. "These two goofs don't know they need a forensic scientist, but they do."

"I don't even see why I'd take on something Sam Merlotte requests of me."

"Come now, Viking. This is literally the first person to come to us since we opened our doors. We need a case." Lucifer gave Eric an imploring look.

Eric sighed and made a hand motion, asking Sam to tell them the problem.

Sam sank into the couch, looking relieved. "It started with the gators, actually."

Lucifer turned his attention back to the man, raising an eyebrow in curiosity at that. "Alligators?"

Sam nodded, wringing his hands that hung between his knees. "Hundreds of them across the state just up and died. Didn't seem to matter where—some on roadways, others just belly-up in the swamp. All at the same time."

"Dead gators?" Eric asked. "That's hardly a supernatural problem. And we're not crossing state lines when the government can just look into it themselves."

"Well, they have," Sam said, his dark blue eyes giving Eric an imploring look. "And they've come up with nothing. There's absolutely no reason why gators all across the great state of Louisiana would all just die like that. Maybe if it had been localized." He sat up straighter, hands running up and down his legs in anxiety. "I suspect it wasn't just Louisiana, but the federal government is being mum on this subject. Local news is talking about it, but there's not a word on the national level."

"Still not supernatural," Eric told him.

Sam sighed in frustration. "Best we can figure, they look to be as if they were boiled alive. Every single once we've come across in Bon Temps, regardless of whether they were in the water. And it's only the gators." Sam grew tense as he thought. "Well, in terms of animals, anyway."

"What does that mean?" Lucifer asked, intrigued. Alligators just dropping dead for no apparent reason?

"Yes, what are you implying?" Eric asked dryly.

"I'm saying that whatever killed the gators is now . . ." Sam trailed off, grimacing. Clearly uncomfortable with saying what he came to say in front of humans.

"Look," Eric said, exasperated. "You can trust Lucifer. So either you tell us or you can get the hell out of here and stop wasting our time."

Sam looked at Ella next. "I swear, I'm trustworthy!" Ella said.

Lucifer sighed and patted Ella on the knee. "Ms. Lopez can be trusted with secrets so long as there isn't obstruction of justice. She's had my back numerous times in the past year or so."

The woman nearly bounced on the couch next to him, clearly pleased with his vouching for her.

For a moment, it seemed that Sam wasn't going to dish, even though he'd travelled halfway across the country just to seek out Eric's help. But finally, with a shake of his head, he started to talk again. "The alligators seem to be the only animals affected right now. Any that are still alive seem sick, and I know scientists are looking into it, but . . ."

"No news, I assume?" Ella asked, as if this was her case, and this was her private eye agency. Perhaps she was a bit too gung-ho; ready to jump into Lucifer's new life so wholeheartedly.

Sam nodded. "Exactly. And now . . . well, now it seems the Weres have contracted whatever the hell it is."

Eric pushed off from his desk, pacing back across the office. That had gotten the vampire's attention, it seemed. "You know that for a fact?" he asked. "The same thing as the alligators?"

Sam nodded, shoulders easing as Eric came to crowd Lucifer into the centre of the couch across from the small man. "Far as I can tell, anyway. I don't exactly know a lot of the Weres, you know? But rumour is, every pack in Shreveport is down and out with a mysterious illness. Burning fevers, wracking coughs, the works."

Sam's perpetual frown deepened and he leaned forward, eyes on Eric. "And from what I understand, Hot Shot is gone."

"Hot Shot?" Lucifer questioned, looking between the two men.

"Small village close to Bon Temps," Eric said dismissively. "You can barely call it more than a trailer park. And they're all related."

"Like a whole family living in the trailer park?" Ella asked.

"Something like that," Sam said, clearly wanting to get back to his story. "But they're gone, now."

"Gone?" Eric asked.

"Best I can figure, they all succumbed to whatever this is," Sam said. "You know, because of . . ." he trailed off.

"The drugs and inbreeding?" Eric asked coolly, clearly having no problem saying it out loud.

"I assume so?" Sam shrugged. "I know not all of the Weres in Shreveport are doing well, either. Probably the ones hooked on V."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Ella said. "Slow down. Weres? V? Inbreeding? What on earth are you all talking about?"

Eric smirked. "Supernatural things."

"Ha ha," Ella replied sarcastically. "How can I help if I have no idea what's going on?"

"I don't recall asking for help," Eric countered. "Or even accepting to help Merlotte in the first place."

Ella looked between the two of them. "Bad blood?" she asked.

"Sam Merlotte has consistently shown a dislike for vampires," Eric said. "And a blatant disregard for vampire culture."

"What? Ignoring a vampire when they claim they own a person?" Sam shot back. "I'm sorry if I disagree with ownership of people, in any form."

A growl came from the vampire and Lucifer put a hand on Eric's thigh, hoping the touch would ground him. "You're not here to discuss Eric's ownership over anyone, though. You're here on behalf of the Weres, no?"

Sam leaned forward on the couch, his brow creased in worry. "It was one thing when it was just affecting the supernatural predators. But it's more than that, now," he said. He took a deep breath and Lucifer realized the man was shaking with pent up worry.

But before Sam could continue, there came a hesitant knock on the door.

Everyone—Sam, Ella, Eric and Luci—turned at the interruption, and Lucifer caught his breath at the sigh at the door.

A tall woman in a gorgeous skirt suit stood in the doorway, peeking in at the group of them. A redhead with an hourglass figure, she looked like the perfect client that would walk through a private eye's door, and Lucifer felt a zing of excitement. First Eric's acquaintance, and now this? The North Star Agency was hitting the ground running!

Lucifer shot up from the couch, stepping over Ella's legs in his attempt to get free of the couches, hand reaching out to shake as he crossed the space toward the stranger. "Lucifer Morningstar at your service," he said, voice friendly. "How can North Star help you?"

There was a sigh of annoyance from behind him, Sam Merlotte clearly upset at being interrupted. But Lucifer wasn't going to turn a second client away. Especially one with big green eyes that looked at him with fear and distress in them. He wanted to help.

And when she took his proffered hand and he found hers to be familiarly cold, he doubly wanted to help. He'd suggested opening this agency for this exact kind of client—vampires. What even was the point of having this office if they didn't welcome in scared and confused vampires that needed their help?

"Are you really a vampire agency?" the woman asked, eyes scanning the room. "You aren't . . ."

"I'm not," Lucifer said quickly. "But my partner is. Viking, come here."

Eric stood from the couch, dutifully doing as Lucifer asked.

Ella leaned toward Sam, "So is he really a Viking vampire?" she asked quietly, and Lucifer just smiled to himself as he turned his attention back to the woman in his doorway.

"This is Eric Northman, the vampire half of the agency," Lucifer said, happy to see the two vampires shake hands.

The other vampire seemed relieved, as if she thought only another vampire could help her. "My name is Florence Davis." Her relief turned back into worry. "My human has gone missing and I can't go to the police." She grimaced, giving Eric a look. "They'll just think I killed him."

"Did you?" Eric asked, deadpan.

"Of course not!" Florence exclaimed, glaring at Eric. "I would never. Not even when lost in bloodlust." She faltered.

Eric raised an eyebrow, and Lucifer looked between the two of them, an unspoken conversation going on between the two vampires.

"I wouldn't," Florence said, repeating herself with less conviction. "I'm always careful. Always have been, since the start. He smells far too delicious to casually drink from him. And I know he's not dead. I'd feel that."

Eric made a noise of agreement in his throat.

"If you can feel him, what makes you think he hasn't left you?" Eric asked.

"He would never do that," Florence said. "We're in love. Have been for years." Florence frowned. "Besides—it's quite clear he's been kidnapped. And if I ask the police to come, they'll just assume the damage was caused by my attacking him. They always assume we eat the ones we love."

"Don't they just," Eric mused.

Lucifer didn't like that idea though—he was certain his Detective back at the L.A.P.D. would always look at the evidence before coming to a conclusion. But perhaps beat cops didn't listen quite like she did. Still, law enforcement should be upholding the law. Which was precisely why Lucifer had opened this detective agency—for people who knew the law wasn't going to be on their side.

This was a case.

No, this was two cases!

"If you know he's not dead, why not go to him?" Eric asked. "If you say he's kidnapped, he must be terrified." And if there was one thing a vampire could do, it was track down their human if they were in danger. That whole proclamation of ownership wasn't for nothing, Lucifer knew. Eric had found him once, after all.

"That's just it," Florence said. "It's strange. I can feel him, I know he's still alive. But it's fuzzy almost." She scrunched up her face, trying to come up with a good analogy. "It's like listening to someone underwater. You can hear them, but it's distorted, making it hard to understand. I know Mark is alive and he's okay. He's not scared or angry—but that's about all I know."

"If he's not scared then what's the problem?" Lucifer asked.

"Because if you came home to your apartment looking like mine, you'd know something horrible had happened!" Florence said, her voice climbing an octave as she spoke.

"What do you mean?" Ella asked, shooting up from the couch to come join them. "Is it completely trashed?"

Eric glared at her, but Lucifer couldn't help but feel warm fuzzies at her willingness to help.

Florence shook her head. "It's not like Mark interrupted a robbery. It seems more like someone broke in to intentionally take him. It's clear he put up a fight—and caused quite a bit of damage in his bid to keep his freedom." The woman began to tear up, blood leaking from the corners of her eyes. "They hurt him. There's blood and I know it's his. No one smells quite like Jason does . . ."

"What does that mean?" Ella asked. "Do we all smell differently? Do we each have a unique scent?"

Eric shook his head. "Not normally. But we can usually tell the difference between humans and supernaturals."

But Florence was already disagreeing with Eric. "Mark might smell different but he's human. He's not a Were of any sort, and definitely not a shifter, either." Florence sniffed delicately and then looked pointedly at Sam sitting on the couch.

This resulted in a scowl from the small man.

Interesting . . . Lucifer wondered what a shifter was and what supernatural abilities they had.

"Is there anything else remarkable about Mark, aside from how he smells?" Eric asked, and there was an interest in his voice that hadn't been there before.

Florence went from worried girlfriend to territorial predator in less than a second, her fangs coming out and a hiss warning Eric to back off. "Mark is mine," she spit out, clearly thinking the other vampire was interested in taking Mark from her.

"I've got my own special person, don't you worry," Eric soothed. "No need to steal another vampire's love. I'm just wondering if he's got, perhaps, some special abilities."

When Florence didn't seem to back off, Lucifer grabbed Eric's arm and pulled him closer, giving the woman a dashing smile. "He's got no need to steal your Mark, I assure you," Lucifer said. "I keep him far too busy."

This seemed to put her at ease, Lucifer's hand looping through Eric's arm possessively.

"Can Mark read minds?" Eric asked.

She blinked at him in confusion. "No."

Realizing they were still standing in the doorway, Lucifer drew Eric and Ella further into the room, indicating that Florence should go sit on the couches with Sam. She did as suggested and Lucifer couldn't help but smile to himself. He was wrangling all his people into one spot and he was doing a bang up job of it. See? He had no need for Detective Chloe Decker—he could manage his witnesses just fine on his own.

Everyone gathered in the sitting area once more.

"Actually, Mark does have a special affinity that I've never seen in any other human," Florence admitted as she carefully sat on the same couch as Sam. They took up either side of it, neither one seeming to want to get close to the other. "He puts everyone at ease. And I mean everyone. He's just so darn likeable—I don't think he's ever been in a single argument in his entire life. Never once been turned down when seeking a job—things like that."

Lucifer watched a silent look pass between Eric and Sam. Sam turned just a tiny bit on the couch, his body language no longer closed off as he leaned toward the vampire next to him. "Has it ever come in handy?" he asked. "Has there ever been a time when you thought the shit was about to hit the fan, but he smoothed everything over with this . . . ability."

Florence was quick to nod. "Oh, he most definitely got us out of a few sticky situations over the course of the years." She gave a wistful smile. "Almost as if he were a vampire himself."

Another look passed between Sam and Eric and Lucifer began to squirm in his spot on the couch. "What are you two thinking?" he finally asked.

Eric didn't respond, although he leaned a shoulder against Lucifer's for a moment. "Mark doesn't just smell good. His blood is delicious, too, isn't it?"

Florence narrowed her eyes at him again, but then her shoulders slumped. "Yes." She began to cry silently, blood tears ruining her beautiful face.

"Half-fairy," Eric announced.

"I—I'm sorry?" Florence stuttered a bit and then closed her eyes, seeming to will herself to stop crying.

"I think Mark is part fairy," Eric said again. "Tastes and smells delicious. Can do things no other human can do. Sam?"

Ah, yes. Like that waitress that had broken Eric's heart before Lucifer had met him.

"I suspect you're right. But that's just it, Eric. I was going to tell you, but she walked in before I could—"

Before Sam could continue, Eric leaned forward toward Florence, clearly dismissing Sam. "We'll take your case, Ms. Davis. I'll see your human home for you."

Sam sighed. "For crying out loud, Eric. Would you let me finish?"

Yes, wouldn't he? Lucifer knew there was tension between the two men, but Sam Merlotte had come here looking for help too, and Lucifer would like to know what the entire problem was. He was curious.

"Listen to me!" Sam exclaimed when it was clear Eric seemed intent on dismissing him again. "I didn't just come here because of dead gators and sick Weres."

Lucifer found himself enraptured by Sam's mix of anger and fear.

"It's not just the Weres that we have to worry about. Alcide called me today, and while he's sick as a dog—excuse the turn of phrase—it's not his own safety he's worried about. It's Sookie."

Eric seemed to freeze next to Lucifer, cold gaze back on the sandy-haired man. "What do you mean it's about Sookie?" he bit out, each word harsh.

"Sookie's gone, Eric," Sam said. He motioned toward Florence. "If Mark's a half-fairy, then you can bet wherever the hell he is, he's with Sookie. Because someone came in the night and took her—right out of the bed she was sharing with her sick Were."

"Jesus fucking Christ, Merlotte. Why the hell didn't you fucking lead with that?" Eric roared.

With no warning, Eric dove across the space between the couches, quite possibly intent on ending Sam's life right there and then.

Bloody fucking hell.


The version of End of the World that is on my playlist is by Great Big Sea.