Wyr woke to someone banging on her door. She swallowed thickly, blinking sleep from her eyes as the pounding continued. She picked up her phone, checked the time in the dark bedroom and groaned. Whoever it was had to have the best reason for waking her up before six. The pentagram hadn't even fully lightened yet.
The healing properties of her potion from the night before had done its job, and Wyr found it was easy enough to pull herself from the bed and stumble to the living area.
"I'm up! But you better have a good fucking reason-" Wyr yanked her front door open, and was swooped by white feathers and warm hands. Hands that reached around her waist and lifted her, swinging her in a circle as she braced herself on strong shoulders. Her living room was still dim, and mercifully empty as Lucifer set her back down on her hooves, his bright grin bursting with pride and happiness and something she couldn't place. His eyes were crinkled at the edges as he grinned up at her. He was wearing his vest and shirt, pants and boots, but his top hat was missing, and his blonde curls looked as though he'd been pushing fingers through them all night. Wyr felt her body thrumming with an energy she couldn't deny, feeling the tight grip his claws had around the soft expanse of her waist. He didn't let go, didn't retract his wings that bracketed her on either side. Something crackled between them.
"Lucifer, what are you doing-"
"Heaven approved of the meeting" he interrupted, wings rustling with his excitement. Wyr's heart leapt and she felt something inside relax. Whether it had been Eve who turned the tables in their favour, or Michael had finally relented, she wasn't certain who was to thank…But even if her meeting with Eve last night had been for nothing…Seeing Lucifer this happy and fulfilled was more than she could have asked for. No matter the portent of doom Eve had cast on the future.
"Wyr?" Wyr blinked, shaking the fog from her mind as she smiled down at Lucifer. She smoothed her hands over his shoulders.
"I knew you could do it." Lucifer smiled at her ruefully.
"I couldn't have done it without you." Wyr shrugged and let her hands slide down from his shoulders to rest gently on his chest, intent on putting distance between them. Lucifer didn't pull away though, studying her intently.
"You could have…But it's always nice to hear I'm wanted." Lucifer's claws dug into her waist and a thrill went through her. His brows furrowed.
"Don't sell yourself short Wyr. I'd have never had the idea to send photos of Charlie to my brother if you hadn't mentioned it."
Wyr swallowed back the thickness in her throat. Was she tasting ash? Or was that the sweetness of nervous energy coating her tongue? She felt warm, standing in the confines of his wings, his hands like brands on her waist. She wasn't wearing enough clothing. The night they'd slept together…She'd woken up wearing a shirt, his shirt, judging by the tightness she'd felt around her breasts and stomach, but he'd said nothing about the long, ugly scar that bisected her torso. She only wore a tank top now, and mortifyingly, only her underwear. He mustn't have noticed yet, because Lucifer wasn't letting her go, instead, he was narrowing his gaze at her. His eyes travelled over her face and lingered on her neck.
"You have a new scar."
The heat of embarrassment from being caught like this was flushed away with the icy panic of being caught. How had he noticed something so small? She hadn't even thought about the new scars she would have now… The scabs she'd gone to bed with would have scratched off overnight and left her with shiny pink scars. In her haste to answer the door, why would she have thought about scars? She hadn't had reason to think it would matter right away. Wyr lifted a hand to her neck and tried to smile sheepishly.
"It's nothing serious. Just a scuffle." Lucifer frowned, and stepped closer, inspecting her neck closely. One hand left her waist, only to pull her hand away from her neck. Wyr's heart hammered unevenly with his face so close.
"They look like they're weeks old…But the other day-"
"I'm a witch remember? I have some potions that speed things up. It's nothing, really. Just..." She cast about for a reliable excuse "territory stuff." Lucifer raised a brow at her and Wyr straightened, hoping her smile was calming and easy-going. Goddess he was standing so close.
As though he'd heard her thoughts, his eyes flicked over her face, gazing up at her like she was an art piece. His wings rustled behind her, unable to hide his agitation.
"You don't want to tell me the truth?" Wyr licked her dry lips nervously.
"There's nothing to tell." Lucifer's eyes followed the movement of her tongue tracing her bottom lip, his voice turning quiet and contemplative.
"That's obviously a lie."
So he called her out on it, but would he insist on the truth? She almost wished he did, if only to escape the enclosure of his arms. His gaze flicked over her like he was searching for the answer she was unwilling to give voice to. She watched his gaze dip from her face down, catching the way he swallowed thickly, and slowly dragged his gaze back up to hers.
Was she sweating? It felt like it. It felt like she was on fire inside. Low in her stomach, she felt tight with desire and her breath felt louder than a gale between them.
"I…Should probably step back, right?"
Wyr swallowed dryly, body flushing watching Lucifer's eyes blink up at her slowly. His lashes dusted his pink cheeks slowly and the gap between them grew tighter and tighter as he moved closer. What was she supposed to say to that? He was so close now, that if she bent her neck they'd meet in a kiss. He still held her hand, trapped between their bodies, whilst her hand rested on his chest, and his was still holding her hip in a slowly bruising grip.
"Maybe you shouldn't."
Her voice came out like she'd been screaming, hoarse and broken, because that was how she felt. Her will broke as the last straw broke, Lucifer rising, letting go of her hand to cup her cheek. She felt the callous' of his hand, felt the pinpricks of his claws ghost across her face. Her eyes fluttered shut, unable to handle the way their bodies swayed towards each other.
"Wyr."
His voice was soft, unlike hers, and like caramel was smooth and full-bodied against her skin. He said her name like a prayer, his breath dusting against her lips. Was this what being a goddess felt like?
She let out a small, broken noise, unable to deny the longing that was chasing every sensible choice from her mind.
Lucifer's lips brushed against hers, warm and lush and gentle. Hundreds of years in the making. Wyr felt her knees go weak as his hand on her cheek reached around to cup her neck, gently pulling her further down even as he pushed up to meet her. Her hands spasmed in his waistcoat and Wyr clutched onto the fabric, living in the way his hand on her waist clutched at her, grabbing at her body even as she opened her mouth for his tongue.
The soft kiss turned hazy and wanting as Wyr pressed herself closer, wanting more of his touch against her skin. He let out a groan, the sound spurring Wyr on to release her own soft noises. Thoughts disappeared entirely until Wyr was only functioning on the way Lucifer's hands held her tightly against him. His wings pressed into her back, ushering her close and her hands reached up from his chest, wrapping around his neck, brushing against silken feathers. They twitched under her touch and Lucifer ground against her, an animalistic growl forcing her to arch into him as she sucked in a breath.
When his hand moved from her hip upwards, sliding up under her tank top, reality rushed back in like a splash of water.
She'd just lied to him about her neck…What would she be willing to do to cover up the story behind the scar on her torso?
Wyr pulled away, and Lucifer chased after her, pressing kisses to her neck, even as she pulled her hands away from his wings, back to press against his chest.
"Lucifer." She sounded even more hoarse, breath lost from the way he'd kissed her. Her mind felt like mud, thoughts sluggish under the weight of her lust. He needed to stop kissing her. Her hand moved to capture the one moving up her waist and he stilled instantly and pulled away. His cheeks were flushed, probably as flushed as she was, and his chest rose up and down as they both fought to catch their breath.
Wyr shook her head, and Lucifer grabbed one of her hands pressed against his chest. He picked it up and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of his, their fingers entwined together.
"You don't have to say anything…I…I'm sorry, I shouldn't have pushed-"
"No, Lucifer…That's not-" He interrupted her, kissing her hand again.
"Don't explain? Please."
Don't explain what? Don't explain that she'd wanted to kiss him like that since she'd been human? Don't explain that she was a liar, and had lied to him their entire time in Hell? Don't explain that the guilt she felt right at this very moment was now threatening to swallow her whole? She'd become undone in moments by him, and the chemistry and lust and desire she'd felt swallowing her whole had dragged him down too. She'd made a fucking mess.
Lucifer stepped back, and a rush of cool air had Wyr shiver without the downy softness of feathers at her back. Her hands dropped, Lucifer letting go so slowly, that she wanted to pull him back towards her.
"I should go…I…I still haven't told Charlie the good news."
Shock pulsed through her. Had she been the first one he told? Her body felt tied in knots, and her eyes stung as she swallowed back the thickness in her throat and tried to smile. Her lips felt swollen, and for once, instead of ash, she tasted caramel. His taste was on her tongue.
"Luci…"
She wasn't sure what she was expecting, but Lucifer was backing away towards the door.
"I'll call you, once I've talked to Charlie. Okay?"
He was out the door so fast, that Wyr had no words to call out after him. She reached up and felt her lips, revelling in the plumpness and heat there.
They'd really just done that, and he'd really just run away.
"It's a rare day in Hell when you want to meet here of all places Alastor."
Alastor straightened his coat lapels as he looked at the bar with a grimace. Her Revenge was quiet tonight, and Wyr had found her friend tucked into a private booth at the back of the space, nursing a whiskey and drumming his claws on the pockmarked table. O'Malley had already poured Wyr a drink by the time she entered the bar and Wyr blew her a kiss as she ducked towards the back.
"Every wall has ears, my dear." Wyr supposed it was probably the safest place to be listened in on when the one in charge was O'Malley. Even inside Her Revenge one couldn't be too careful though. She wondered if O'Malley would take it as a compliment that Alastor trusted her bar to be a safe enough place to speak. It didn't stop her from throwing up a ward spell around the table, forcefully dispelling any curious ears Alastor hadn't intimidated away. Wyr sipped her rum and felt it burn down her throat, wetting her dry lips. It had been two days since the meeting. Four since Lucifer had come calling.
Four since he'd kissed her.
Three since the message that the meeting had been organized…And radio silence since. Lucifer hadn't contacted her, but the clock tower hadn't changed. There was less than a month left until the extermination. She didn't know where she was standing with Lucifer, and it wasn't like her to not know where she stood with someone, but they'd both made mistakes that day and she had to give him space. She needed to stop thinking about how his mouth fit against hers, how plump her lips had felt when he pulled back. The faint taste of blood mixed with caramel from a nick on her tongue from his teeth.
Alastor's glass clinked as he set it down on the table between them. Wyr let out a startled breath and caught his curious gaze. She shook herself.
There was less than a month left until the angels would come down with a holy vengeance. Eve hadn't lied. She'd gotten the meeting approved, somehow, but whether Charlie had persuaded the angels to change their mind or not…She supposed with Alastor here, with a drink in his hand…It was fair to say the meeting hadn't gone to plan.
"What happened?"
He was slow to answer, staring into his tumbler with a contemplative smile. She wasn't used to seeing him like this, even before he disappeared. Instead of giving her a straight answer, his gaze moved out to the bar.
"Were you aware that during the last extermination, an angel was killed?" Wyr paused in lifting her glass to her lips, liquid sloshing over the surface as it whacked back down onto the table. Time seemed to stop, buffer, and restart in a single instant and Wyr stared at Alastor, whose smile had grown sinister. He was watching her like a hawk watching a mouse in an open field.
"So you didn't…Interesting."
Wyr choked back her retort, that she wasn't an overlord, so how was she supposed to know- more than that, how had he found out in the first place? Did the other overlords know? Who had killed an angel? How?
"So much lost potential" he continued. "If you'd ever be interested in attending those meetings…You could learn a lot of the goings on." Wyr rolled her eyes and clutched her drink to her chest.
"I learn enough from the dead."
It was easy to bluster, to fall back on her job because an angel was dead. Which meant they could be killed. She supposed that was an obvious thing they should have known. If Sinners could die here, why not the angels? What did the angels do for their dead? Eve's voice filtered through her mind.
A war is approaching. You know which side you must be on.
"What does a dead angel have to do with Charlie's meeting?" Alastor's eye twitched and his smile snarled at one side. Wyr just watched his annoyance with her, unable to bring herself to care she was acting obtuse. She knew what he was getting at.
"The meeting was more of a trial, my dear, and our princess was unable to change any minds." His tone was vibrant and excited, but Wyr could see behind the red of his iris that anxiety chewed at him. His ears flicked back and forth, and his claws drummed on the table. Yeah…Anxiety that was skewing more towards panic. Wyr didn't understand the why though. Why was he so invested? It wasn't all about entertainment, as much as he played it off like that. Something was tying him to Charlie's failure or success, and he was showing it was the success that mattered.
"What about Lucifer?" Alastor's grin sharpened, his gaze honing in on her like a cat. Wyr had thought…Was she wrong? It would have made sense that Lucifer had attended the meeting and backed Charlie up in her fight. Wouldn't the might of two Morningstars have swayed Heaven? In some way, Wyr had been hoping he'd attended…If only to be a real excuse as to why he hadn't reached out to her. He'd been so busy in Heaven with Charlie, that he couldn't call her to have an adult conversation about the other day. About the way they'd made each other feel.
Because she knew how his body had felt against hers, and how it had impacted them both. But why had he run? Why hadn't he gone with Charlie?
"Vagatha and the princess were Hell's emissaries. His Majesty wasn't in attendance."
He didn't need to confirm it aloud, and Wyr didn't mean to feel the words as a punch to the gut, but she did. Alastor looked as though he'd gotten the reaction he'd been after with those words.
It didn't make sense. Logically, it didn't make sense. Lucifer had been so torn about not being able to support Charlie, his deep-rooted fear that she didn't need him. Why not take the chance to back her at a meeting in Heaven determining the fate of Hell and its people? His people?
How did he feel now knowing the meeting hadn't come to anything? The knowledge made her want to jump up and race to the manor. To offer her support, to let him know that they can still fight. She ached for him. He'd done so much to get Charlie to Heaven, but in the end, it had all been for nothing. She'd need to go see him.
"So Adam is still coming."
O'Malley slid into the booth beside Wyr and glared at Alastor across the table. Wyr shook her head, dispelling the thoughts clouding her mind.
"Mal, you really shouldn't-" The pirate waved her off, eyes firmly pinned on the radio demon.
"To Hell with should. Old Al' isn't just here to keep us informed. He's too conniving for that." She threw back the shot of rum she'd brought over and slammed it down, rattling both Wyr's and Alastor's glasses. Alastor's grin turned dangerous as he all but snarled at O'Malley.
"Don't you have a bar to run, pirate?" O'Malley's grin was sardonic as she waved at the empty bar.
"Closed for the night. Now out with it. What are you trying to pull Wyr into? And how do I kill an angel?"
The bar was empty. In the time Wyr and Alastor had been there, consumed by the idea of dead angels, the pirate queen had emptied the place and closed up. O'Malley's straight-to-the-point nature always made Wyr feel more unsettled than settled when it came to business, but she appreciated the way her friend could force Alastor to be honest with them. Alastor's tapping of the table stopped and he looked Wyr dead in the eye ignoring O'Malley's hard stare.
"I need a favour."
You know which side you must be on.
Wyr splayed her hands flat on the surface of the table. It felt a little sticky under her fingers, but Eve's voice was echoing in her mind like she was standing behind her. Eve had left Wyr alone for years, seemingly content to let her do what she wanted, but now she could feel the woman pushing at her, forcing Wyr to understand what she wanted.
"The hotel will be ground zero when the angels come."
Oh. Wyr could see where this was going. She could see the flames, the screams echoing in her head, a replica of the destruction left in the wake of a battle seven years ago.
"So? What's the favour? I hope you're not thinking we'll help you just like that."
Wyr wasn't so sure she had the choice O'Malley was suggesting she had. Alastor took a sip of his drink, his grin firmly unsettled, and directed at O'Malley.
"I don't need a favour from you. I hardly think you'd be of any use…You're not even an overlord." Wyr winced, knowing O'Malley's stance on being an overlord. The pirate slammed her fist down on the table, a growl at the back of her throat.
"You and I both know I'm an overlord whether I like it or not with this one backing me." She hooked a thumb at Wyr, who folded her hands across her chest. That was not what she'd expected to hear.
"Mal, you know I don't-" O'Malley waved a hand at her, intense gaze pinned on Alastor with a smug smile.
"Shut up. We both know that if I'm an overlord I can bring a lot more firepower. I have the access." She sat back, eying Alastor. "So? What's this favour you want?"
It was like having a lawyer speak for you, and whilst Wyr appreciated her friend's fire, Eve had been clear…Wyr knew there was no avoiding the coming conflict. She'd played a passive role for hundreds of years…But now, with Charlie's hotel the front line of conflict… After the conflict with the Vees, and Eve's interference, paired with the odd interference of Alastor's… Wyr's gut was telling her Eve's prediction was coming, whether they tried to negate it or not. War was coming, and Wyr knew where she'd be standing.
"I'll stand with Charlie." O'Malley spasmed, turning to her.
"Wyr! You can't just-"
"I can. You heard what Eve said. She knew exactly what side she wanted me to take." Wyr looked at Alastor, their gazes meeting. She stared at him hard, examining the red iris' hiding the depths of Alastor's secrets. He was bound to this, as much if not more than she was. Seven years ago she'd tied her fate to his…Maybe this time at least they'd succeed.
Maybe it would have been smarter to call him, Wyr thought as she looked up at the iron gates. They were locked tight. If she'd called though, he would have had the choice to ignore her.
She'd met with Charlie the day after she met with Alastor, and offered her aid in warding the hotel and providing supplies. O'Malley had declined the visit, stating she'd be in 'private meetings' with other overlords, trying to gather backing. The atmosphere had been tense, everybody quiet as they'd sat at the bar discussing details.
Wyr had asked if Charlie had heard from her dad, but the girl hadn't…She'd called multiple times, but after hearing about the failure of the peace talks, he hadn't answered since.
So now she was here, in front of his mansion without a plan and no idea what was waiting inside. They hadn't had a real conversation since the kiss…And she didn't know if it was a good or bad thing. If she went by the feeling in her gut? Probably bad.
Hooves were not helpful when climbing fences, with no way to grip the bars, so with a kindled amount of magic, she infused the muscles in her thighs with power and jumped. She sailed over the fence, and landed lightly, waiting for a trap of some sort to snap her up.
When nothing happened, she turned to the drive and trotted up, meeting no opposition even as she made her way to the front of the mansion. She climbed the stairs, panting lightly as she knocked on the double doors. An imp answered the door in a traditional butler's suit looking shocked, no doubt because he hadn't expected a woman to show up at the door with no notice.
"May I help you?" Wyr nodded, looking past the imp through to the dark entry hall.
"Yeah, I'm looking for Lucifer. Is he in?" The imp looked torn, looking back into the mansion and then looking her up and down. Wyr swallowed dryly.
"I work with him, in the graveyards. I need to speak with him about a business matter."
"I'm…Not sure if His Majesty can take visitors presently." Wyr frowned at how reluctant the imp sounded. Was something wrong with Lucifer? Why couldn't he receive visitors?
"Could you ask him? Let him know I'm here. My name is Wyr-He'd let me in if he knew it was me."
The imp thought about it, and as he opened his mouth, no doubt to tell her to leave she interrupted him.
"Please, it's about the princess. Just let him know I'm here." She reached into her bag and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. Lucifer's wide, sharp grin looked so fake on the bill compared to his soft smile from the other day…Wyr handed the imp the bill with a smile. The imp tried to look offended, but when she waved it in front of him, he snatched at it and tucked it into his pocket. He pulled the door open wider to let her through and pointed to a velvet couch on the side of the hall.
"Wait here. I'll inform Hi Majesty of your arrival."
Wyr sat and watched the imp as he went up the grand staircase and turned left. She waited a few moments more, before standing and following after the butler as quietly as her hooves could on the marble floors.
She followed after him, grateful for the carpeted floors of the upper hallways, into the family wing Lucifer hadn't deigned to show her on her visit. When the butler came to the end of a hallway and knocked on a door, she pulled back around the corner, peeping around it to watch the butler enter the room. She moved on silent hooves closer down the hall.
"…Visitor for you, Your Majesty."
"Send them away, Jeeves."
"They were very insistent on seeing you, Your Majesty."
"I don't care. I'm busy."
"They said their name was Wyr, Your Majesty."
There was a beat of silence, and Wyr wished she could peek into the room, to see what was going on, but she heard Lucifer's voice again, resigned, quiet, broken.
"Tell her I'm busy."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Hurt ate through her like a poison. He was sending her away, after not answering her messages, not answering his daughter's calls? After kissing her and running away, he was denying her entry. Anger chased after the hurt. The imp walked back through the door and was startled when he saw her standing by the door.
"What are you-" He exclaimed. She shoved him aside, feeling slightly bad for her rough handling of the imp, but also not able to stop herself from entering the room. The imp chased after her as she pushed the door open and glared at the slumped form at the desk.
This wasn't Lucifer's office she'd been in last time, but a workroom filled to the brim with small yellow ducks. The roof was covered in striped fabric like a ring-top circus, and the windows glowed red in the afternoon light, casting a dramatic flair over the scene. Lucifer's desk was a pile of blueprints, lit with bright yellow lights, and gears and wires were scattered across the surface of it. What drew the eye though were the stacks, piles and mountains of rubber ducks that littered every surface. Each one with a cute, perfect face that matched the one she kept on her nightstand.
At the desk, Lucifer spun in his chair at the interruption of the imp and maybe Wyr would have settled down, slowed down, thought about what she would say to him if he hadn't tried to get rid of her…Because he looked like a wreck, with purple bruises under his eyes, bloodshot pupils, and a haggard, exhausted look on his face that spoke volumes. But he'd tried to avoid her, after kissing her, and Wyr wasn't a demure woman who'd back off. He'd kissed her.
"Wyr!" Lucifer staggered to his feet, and the imp surged forward.
"Your Majesty, I'm so sorry, she must have followed me up here!" Wyr brushed past the imp, practically stomping past him to poke a sharp nail into Lucifer's chest. She glared down at him.
"You tried to send me away?!" She watched his throat bob as he reeled backwards.
"No-I, Wyr, that's not-" She shook her head at him, and shook off the imp's touch at her arm.
"That's exactly what you tried to do! I came here to check on you because you've been avoiding me! Not to mention Charlie! But you don't want to see me!?"
Lucifer shot his butler a look, and the imp stepped back.
"Leave us." The imp rushed from the room, pulling the door shut behind him. Wyr's breath was coming short and sharp, her eyes stinging as anger gave way to hurt. Never had she thought he would try to avoid her. Never did she think it would hurt this much knowing he had tried. He reached for her hand, claw still digging into his chest. He was gentle, but firm as he gripped her hand, pulling it away.
"Wyr." She shook her head, shooting a look at the bright lights of his workshop to stop the tears from falling. She blinked rapidly, then squeezed them shut, shaking her head. She'd held back tears for hundreds of years now, she would continue not to cry over men. Over him.
"I can't believe you."
"I'm sorry." His voice was hoarse and quiet in a room filled with the sound of her harsh breath. "You weren't supposed to hear that."
"That doesn't make it better."
"I know."
His simple acceptance dulled the pain somewhat. He wasn't trying to deny it, but accepting he'd done something wrong.
"You kissed me" she muttered, looking down at the ground between them, unable to bring herself to look him in the eye. "And then you just ran away."
A warm hand grabbed at hers, fisted by her side. He didn't say anything for a moment, but tugged her closer, clasping both her hands in one of his so he could reach for her cheek. He forced her to look up until they were looking at each other. Having lost the burn of anger, Wyr could appreciate just how broken Lucifer looked.
"I'm sorry." The two words were whispered between them like a secret.
She sagged, forehead coming down to bump gently against his. This close they shared the air between them, and the scent of caramel and smoke that accompanied the Devil soothed the burnt edges of her hurt.
They breathed together, Lucifer keeping his hand on her cheek. Finally, after moments, or hours, Wyr pulled away and looked over Lucifer properly. His hand fell from her cheek and he looked away dejectedly.
"It's not your fault Lucifer." He didn't look at her, dropping her hands to move back to his work table. Wyr looked over the piles of rubber ducks, then back to his hunched-over form. He rested his forehead against his hand.
"You don't know that."
Wyr made her way up to the bench and peered over his shoulders. He ran his fingers through his hair, messing up the already tangled curls. The bench was full of blueprints she didn't understand, precise measurements and runes all jumbled together. She placed a hand on his shoulder, feeling the tightness there.
"I do. You got Charlie the meeting." She thought for a moment, and then asked "But why didn't you go with her?"
"It's her thing. I told her when she asked, that Heaven wouldn't listen to me…That they never listened to me. So she went alone." Wyr frowned at the man.
"I find it hard to believe that's the only thing that would stop you from helping Charlie. You told me all the stories."
"It's different this time." Wyr stepped back, crossing her arms, confused.
"Why is it different? This is probably the time she needs you the most. Especially now. Heaven is coming, and Adam is going straight for the hotel. Charlie needs you right now."
Her words seemed to act like stones being pelted at the demon. Lucifer tucked more firmly into himself even as Wyr drew away. The softness and forgiveness they'd only tentatively broached seemed to begin to shrivel.
"It just is, Wyr. I don't need to explain."
"Oh, I think you do. To me at least, because I don't understand. Why are you not taking Charlie's calls? And why are you avoiding me?"
He could feel her pulling away behind him, feel the weight of her gaze pushing him down below the surface where he struggled to rise. Wyr was confused, upset, frustrated, and it was all his fault. Ever since his phone call with Seraphina, when she'd reluctantly informed him of the change of plan, when he'd raced to Wyr's apartment and kissed her, he'd been living a half-life. Intense joy, wild pride, and a thick haze of lust had driven him to Wyr. When she'd opened the door he'd been too bold, and when he'd finally noticed her fully... He'd lost control. He'd completely disrespected his friend, shot past every boundary, and worse, she'd had to tell him to stop.
It was awful.
Lucifer was a monster. He was everything in Hell's abyss. There was a reason he'd been made king of Hell, and yet sometimes he forgot. Wyr had every right to tell him to stay away and to preempt that, he'd just kept himself away. He should have been locked away years ago, been deposed at least, but it had never come.
And then Charlie called, telling him about the meeting, and the debacle that had occurred. He wasn't surprised that many of the angels didn't know about the exterminations, and wasn't surprised that the conversation had broken down to petty in-fighting. Heaven was a bureaucratic nirvana, Hell was a defunct monarchy. It was a wonder his father still believed there was a point to any of it. But then, Lucifer had gotten his avoidance behaviour from someone.
"I've been busy. With work."
What a miserable excuse. Too busy with work to talk to Wyr? Maybe she would buy it…But too busy for Charlie? Wyr knew him better than that. He picked up the delicate golden screwdriver and fiddled with the set of wire-thin gears on his table. He wondered briefly, what Wyr thought of this room. Would she discern it for what it was? Deep depressive episodes where there was nothing and no one who could pull him out? Or did she write it off in anger as an amusement?
"Liar."
He closed his eyes against the glare of his work lights. His breath shuddered in and out. He wanted to say something, anything, to send her away. Send Wyr far, far away from this city. To give her freedom from him, from the Sinners that choked the streets, from the responsibilities that tied them together. So many words made his throat tight, too tight to swallow, too tight to let a single word loose. He felt her behind him, pulling away, realising him for what he was.
"You and I both know you'd never be too busy for Charlie, especially when she needs you."
"She doesn't need me." His voice sounded wrong like it was grating out of him. His eyes stung and he squeezed them shut. He knew what that meant, and the shame of spilling tears in front of Wyr again was almost his undoing.
"That girl wants her father, Lucifer. She wants her dad with her. She needs you to back her up." He shook his head, dropping the tool in his hand. It landed with a clatter. He couldn't bear to face her so he spoke to the table.
"I've failed her too many times Wyr. So many times I can barely bring myself to count them. She doesn't need my help. She's got Alastor after all. He treats her like a daughter from what I've heard."
He heard a bark of laughter.
"Alastor? A father-figure? That's the dumbest shit I've ever heard. Alastor doesn't have a single paternal instinct in his whole body."
"It doesn't matter, Wyr. The point is, Charlie is better off without me."
"Charlie is better off, a week away from an extermination, that is targeting the hotel, without her father? Are you serious?" Frustration built, like steam building up in a kettle on the stove, until it screamed. He stood, shoving his chair back and turning to look at Wyr. Her cheeks were pink with anger, eyes glossy as her gaze bored into him. She was holding herself tightly, hands on her hips and fingers digging into her flesh. She wore pants for once, and a shirt with billowing long sleeves.
"If I get involved with this, if I make one wrong move, the treaty ends Wyr. So I am serious. As long as Charlie doesn't fight, she'll survive." Wyr jerked back, surprise shifting across her face like he'd struck her.
"What do you mean, 'if she doesn't fight'? Lucifer…That's her hotel. The sinners there are her friends. They're her people. Of course she's going to fight! If you'd just call her back and listen, you'd know-"
Brimstone and smoke lit under his skin, and flames spewed from his mouth. Without realising, he'd shifted, and his wings twitched and quivered behind him, tail lashing back and forth. He breathed in flames and felt them heating the room.
"I don't need to, Wyr! I don't need to do anything! I'm the king of Hell!"
Why didn't look cowed as she looked up at him, instead, she widened her stance and glared up at him. She wasn't a coward like him.
"Then protect your fucking people Lucifer! This goes beyond Charlie and her safety! This extermination isn't for crowd control! They keeping Hell under their boot, and I thought that was why you rebelled in the first place. You need to step in." Wyr's voice was filled with so much conviction, that it burned him. Her words were a poisonous truth. He wasn't even aware he was talking until the words growled out of him.
"Sinners aren't worth saving. Redemption is beyond them, and I won't condemn the treaty and the lives of the hellborn for the worst of humanity."
He may as well have hit her, with the way she lost the pink staining her cheeks, the quick steps backwards, her hands moving to wrap around her middle like she was protecting herself. From him. Her emotions, from being so visible in her eyes, shuttered and she looked away.
The world seemed to slip sideways as the lights grew dimmer, a familiar dark hole growing as Lucifer realised just what he'd said, and who he had said it to.
"Sinners aren't worth saving?"
She'd made a serious mistake. Lucifer hadn't changed his mind about his people. Which meant in some way he thought she was not worth saving, right? Because Wyr was a Sinner. Maybe she didn't act like the others, but she'd been down here as long as Zestial, if not longer, and they were a limited breed. But they were both still Sinners at their core.
Lucifer dropped back to the ground, reaching for her as Wyr backed up, hands clenching into fists as she forced herself not to let any tears fall. Not in front of him. Weakness wasn't an option. Not in front of someone who didn't think she was worth protecting. Was his kiss just a work of lust? Was it just the culmination of seven years of celibacy? He'd found a woman he was attracted to, and kissing her was just his lust overtaking him. Not that he liked her, like she liked him. Personally, intimately, liked his kindness, his innovation…The way she'd believed he cared deeply.
She'd been wrong.
Wyr blinked, and she felt the sizzling tear as it wet her eyelashes, and splashed down her cheek. She swiped her fist over it, rubbing it away like she could rub away the weakness sending a shakiness to her knees.
"I have to go."
She turned and raced from the room.
She didn't hear him come after her.
