Approaching the door to the replicated therapist's office, Maze knocked loud and proud. "Lucifer! Hey, can you help me out? We've got a problem," she shouted, and listened to the muffled noises coming inside. She was sure she heard a woman's voice speaking her full name. "Lucifer!" she shouted urgently, and tried the door knob.
"One moment!" he shouted back, and Maze heard the walls rumble.
Accustomed to his anger, and capable of withstanding it, Maze didn't back away, as would have anyone else. She pressed her ear to the door and eavesdropped.
"Forgive you? Dearie me, do you not remember Mazikeen? They don't call her a demon ironically."
"So, you don't think this will go smoothly?"
"I know it won't."
"Then let the ladies handle it."
Then the door came open. Maze startled, then slowly withdrew. "Mother."
"Mazikeen," Lilith responded, keeping her tone light. "A pleasure to see you. How is everything?"
"Dandy," she said coldly, and then pushed her way into the office. "Hey! Something's wrong in DCLXVI."
"Yes, I'm quite sure; there's a lot wrong in hell," Lucifer sniped.
"Hell can wait! My mother can wait."
"Darling, I've only waited several thousand millennia. Can't you at least say three words to me?" Lilith inquired.
Maze glowered at Lucifer.
He shrugged and raised his wine glass. "She did deliver you via Cesarean section bereft of narcotics in the meadow of Simmering Sand, but...perhaps I'm speaking out of school," he murmured, before taking a sip.
She sighed, finally turning around to face her mother. "Why are you here?"
"When the damned were given a window of opportunity, the doors opened, too."
"The gates won't. No amount of therapy is gonna get you into heaven."
"The only deliverance I needed was to break my hell loop." Lilith smiled exuberantly at Lucifer. "It's so wonderful to socialize again."
Maze nodded, pursing her lips. "I should go," she announced. "Before I ruin it."
"Blh'i fl sepghlepi!"
Lucifer lowered his glass, studying Maze's non-reaction.
"Don't you remember your native tongue?" Lilith asked.
"Of course."
"Ire al. Eg dnimwwenjh al."
"N'a ewlg ao hrgll egd bnanh," Maze said, and dismissively turned away. "Prisoner in DCLXVI escaped somehow. I asked around, but nobody even acknowledges me."
"They should. I gave you my blessing."
"In private," she pointed out, and tilted her head. "You had no intention of giving me authority, did you?"
"Why would you ask me that?"
"Because you aren't good with change."
"I think I changed plenty in L.A."
"No. Everything you did served your father's will. Just because the puppet is unaware he's a puppet..."
"Have you been talking to Michael? I led a rebellion, for Pete's sake."
Maze moved closer and slipped her hand into his pocket, pulling out the ring box. "Then who is this for?"
He snatched it from her. "None of your...beeswax! Go look for DCLXVI."
Maze backed away from him, pointing at him with a knife. "Find your own prisoner. I quit."
"Uh―Mazikeen!" he snapped, as she hastily left the office. He got to his feet, roughly setting down his glass. "Don't worry, there's plenty of souls to converse with. If not, I'll be back anyway," he muttered hastily before chasing Maze.
Rounding the corner, he saw her standing there looking right at him, her knife embedded into the stone. He slowed, observing the hatred on her face. "Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but you hated that man," Lucifer said falteringly.
"One of the reasons I want to be torturing him instead of looking for his ass."
He grinned mischievously, tucking his hands into his pockets. "What's the other reason?"
"I'm glad you asked me that," she said, her face registering zero joy. "Like I was saying, we have a problem. You remember that Carol Corbett guy?"
"Uh, yes, Detective Dick."
"Well, he took a few rounds to the chest and now your mom's inhabiting his body. And if the soul of a major criminal isn't here..."
"Bloody hell."
"Yeah. But if you're too busy boning my mother, I understand."
"Don't even joke, Mazikeen; it's not funny! I would never do that to Chloe."
"Chloe?" Maze asked quietly.
"I mean you. I would never do that to you," he said, motioning to her.
"No, you meant Chloe. Because you care about her, but me?" she asked shrilly. "You don't care about me, Lucifer. No one does."
"That is not remotely true."
"Millennia after millennia of having your back. I asked you for one thing, Lucifer," she growled.
"And I answered."
"You evaded. So you didn't have to lie."
He tilted his head, his dark eyes meeting hers. "I haven't the faintest idea why hell is out of your control. So, there. We good?"
"If you don't know, then it's out of my control because even the other demons don't care about me."
He frowned at her. "Everybody cares about you. Chloe cares, and you were going to slit her throat. Ella cares, and you never remember her name. Eve cares, and I've officially lost count of the times you broke her heart."
"I get it, I'm a horrible, horrible person. Thanks for the reminder."
"Actually you seem like a perfectly normal demon, which isn't the point," he said, as his eyes followed her movements when she turned and pulled her knife from the wall, its metal blade ringing against the rock.
She turned back to him, tucking it harmlessly away. "Maybe hell is out of my control because you opened the gate after giving me the key. Does that sound remotely true?"
She moved past him, ignoring his incoherent mumbling as she speedily departed.
Maze sat with a sigh of resignation on the stairwell by Lacy Park. The sky was a dark, bruised orange color and the night was chilly. She rubbed her hands together and glanced down, squishing a bug under her boot. With a sigh, she called out in an emotional voice, "I know you're there, Eve! You started tracking me at Sacred Heart!"
"Ah, nuts," came a responsive mutter. Eve came to stand beside Maze, her dress fluttering in the wind. "That's really impressive."
"What can I say? I'm a bounty hunter."
"So am I."
"I have more practice. And you're loud. You want to keep being a bounty hunter, you need to be quieter."
"I was loud?"
"You stepped on a rock."
Eve's expressive eyebrows went up and she sank down to sit beside her elusive, hot-headed wife. "Amenadiel told me what you did...what you asked him to do. How could you do that, after everything..." Her voice trailed off when Maze shot her a dirty look. She continued her question, but changed her tone. "Everything you did to get one?"
"Why don't you run off and ask Amenadiel?"
"I'm worried about you, Mazie. I'm worried about us. For Amenadiel's sake, you were ruling hell! What did you have to be scared of?"
"I wasn't ruling hell." Maze shrugged and looked down at her boots. "I was a ghost down there."
"Well, oh well! You know, you could have asked your omnipotent buddy for a favor, too. Now when you die...I'll be alone."
"You're going to heaven; you were always going to be alone. This was preordained the worst long-distance relationship in the entire friggin world."
Eve stared at Maze, confusion and concern in her impossibly huge eyes. "Is this your way of breaking up with me?"
"It's the only way to save my life."
"No! You could have asked Amenadiel to treat you well down there. You probably wouldn't even need to ask," Eve protested, as Maze stood up. Her words made the demon pause, staring down at her.
"Don't you see a problem with that?" Maze asked, as she began taking off her wedding ring. She held it out, and Eve turned her pretty face in the other direction. "'Kay, well... Something you should know for when you die. The ring of immortality you're wearing guarantees heaven to whichever human wears it. It's like a ticket to paradise."
"Well―take it!" Eve said, beginning to take it off.
"Whichever human," Maze repeated. "Angels don't need it, and there's zero chance for a demon. But you... You're going to heaven and we all know it. My advice: Give it to a human you care about. Trixie, Linda, Ellen...the bus driver you were checking out." She rolled her eyes.
"What, he was cute!"
"Yeah, but he was a bus driver."
"So, wait." Eve stood hastily. "You're really not going to do whatever it takes to stay with me? I...I asked Amenadiel to send me to hell, but he wouldn't do it."
Maze scoffed, tilting her head. "You're an idiot."
"Well―I only did it because I love you more than heaven."
"I love you, too. Which is why you should give the ring away, Eve," Maze muttered. She turned and retreated down the sidewalk, and Eve tearfully watched her go; then began to climb the stairs.
Realizing he was unfortunately awake, Corbett moved his head, getting a generous dose of sunlight against his eyelids. He ducked back into the shadows, his sleepy mind registering that if it was morning, he needed to get ready for work. And worse, he probably needed to rush. Then something else occurred to him; he was laying on his left side. The sunlight should have been on the back of his head.
What? He always slept on the right side of the bed. It was closer to the door. He turned over onto his side with the intent of crawling over to the right side and checking his phone for the time. Instead, he found himself climbing onto the form of a person, concealed beneath the blanket.
A grunt came from under the covers. He lunged off, in a confused panic. What the hell? He'd gone to bed sober.
"Oh, what the hell?" his blanket said.
It sounded...manly. Corbett yanked the blanket away―exposing Pete Daily.
Corbett's yell made Daily yell. Their eyes locked and they yelled some more, each of them scrambling out of the bed. The last thing Corbett saw before the bed blocked his view was the sight of the serial killer's naked ass, plunging into hiding.
Corbett continued to kneel, pressing his eyes against his bedsheet and listening to the breaths coming from the other side. "How did you get in my house? That's a felony! Why were you in my bed?"
"I don't know! I don't remember anything, but I was sober, I swear!"
"Me too!" Corbett yelled back.
"You were? You naked?"
Corbett opened his eyes, checking himself with a gasp. "Yes!"
"Oh, fuck, I'm... Is there stuff? On the...on the bed, is there stuff?"
"Don't care! Get out! Fucking leave, man!" Corbett shouted, and threw a pile of unfamiliar laundry over the bed. He peeked over the mattress, watching the clothes slide off. Pete's arms came up as he put the shirt on and then Corbett heard a zipper. He was still yanking the pants on, going commando, as he pushed the bedroom door open and staggered out. Alone, Corbett slowly got to his feet and began inspecting the bed. Yep...stuff.
Fully dressed, Pete got all the way down the stairs and was halfway to the front door when he saw a shadow appear by the door. Then Ella stopped in front of the window, staring at him in horror; and his first inclination wasn't to laugh at her misfortune. He wanted to comfort her. Not that he could explain a damn thing, except that Corbett was alive; though he thought it might be good enough. But she disappeared before he could decide what to do. She disappeared before he could blink. He heard the soft clink of her key to Corbett's house hitting the concrete.
He went to the door, figuring out it was unlocked, and let himself out. He raised his eyes in the direction she had taken, but she was long gone; and feeling confused and angry, he used his foot to slowly push the key aside.
He didn't know how long he would be out of prison, but he knew he would be apprehended. It was only a matter of time. But he would use that time to make Corbett suffer. For this event, for stealing his girl, because he didn't like him, and just because. And for being with Corbett, he would make Ella suffer, too...
Then he would kill her.
No, he wouldn't. Wait, what? He was standing there arguing with himself. Ridiculous! He might be dangerous, but he wasn't crazy. It wasn't like he had more than one voice in his head...