Devil in the Details
Two days later, as Izzy woke from her nap, she found a box at the foot of the bed.
Curious, she pulled the ribbon undone and lifted the lid to find the most beautiful dress she had ever laid eyes on folded neatly on a pillow of tissue paper. Carefully, she pulled the dress from the box, red silk slipping like water through her fingers. A note fluttered to the floor. It took too much effort to pick it up, but well worth it when she finally held the note to the light and read the swirling cursive.
Tonight. Eight o'clock. Meet you at Lux.
- L
When Lucifer had suggested dinner, Izzy had thought he meant something like their Thai outing. Something casual that would require the same comfy pair of yoga pants and a hoodie. Clearly tonight was on a whole other level.
Eyeing the clock, Izzy saw she had just under two hours to get herself ready. Not a lot of time, if she were being honest. It would take at least thirty minutes to shave; it had been months since her legs had seen a razor, and bending at the waist was damn near impossible. But there was nothing she liked more than a challenge.
By the time seven forty-five rolled around, Izzy was a totally different woman. Shaved, a face full of make up, and zipped up in red silk, she felt more like her old self than she had in months. Maybe that was Lucifer intent, letting her slip back into her old skin so that she could feel a shred of normalcy.
Studying herself in the mirror, Izzy admired her reflection, proud of the strong woman who looked back at her. She'd gained weight since staying with Lucifer, no longer the skin and bones Aldertree had made her. She'd filled out in her bust and at the hips, the silk clinging in a sensual way that Izzy had not seen herself since becoming pregnant, hiding away in hoodies and sweats. As comfy as those things were, they weren't sexy. They weren't her familiar skin-tight leather. And while she wasn't a silk girl back then, she couldn't help but appreciate the way it flattered her waist and her belly, the way it skimmed her skin and didn't pinch or pull.
And, of course, Lucifer's reaction upon seeing her step out the elevator was worth everything.
"Miss Lightwood, you look - "
"Hubba hubba," came a voice from behind. "Who are you trying to fuck?"
Maze. The demoness sauntered over their way, black leather boots clicking on the floor. She held a box - more like a metal brief case - in one hand, her phone in another. Her lips were pursed in their usual unimpressed scowl, her dark eyes glittering with annoyance.
Lucifer cleared his throat and composed himself.
"Mazikeen has kindly offered her services to bodyguard you for the night."
"Lucky me," Maze replied snarkily with a roll of her eyes, jabbing her finger in Lucifer's direction. "I will be charging you for this."
"Yes, yes put it on the tab," Lucifer said with a wave of his hand, walking over to the bar and leaving the two women alone.
Maze looked uncomfortable. Izzy knew that Maze wasn't the most comfortable around Nephilim, but Izzy thought that they'd been working on their relationship since she'd come to live with Lucifer. However, the doubts weren't necessary.
Maze thrust the box she held into Izzy's hands.
"Here, I got these for the baby," she said, looking pointedly away from Izzy as she took it.
"Oh, Maze, you didn't have to do that..."
Izzy opened the box to find a set of stainless steel knives glittering up at her. They weren't as elegant as angelic weapons, but they were sleek and powerful. Izzy could spot the craftsmanship in the way the handles were carved, in the elegant, clean lines of the blades.
"They're not your special Nephilim kind; didn't know if the kid would take more after her dad. I've used a few of these myself, they're reliable enough. Gotta start training 'em young. I could hold a knife before I knew how to walk. Had my first kill down before my first word," Maze said, pride in her voice. "My siblings never saw me coming."
Pregnancy hormones were something else, because Izzy felt tears spring to her eyes, an outpouring of love welling up for the demon.
"Thank you," Izzy blubbered, reaching out and pulling Maze into a crushing hug.
"Yeah, yeah, well, can't have you going soft. This kid's got a lot of shit headed their way. You both need to be prepared."
"I didn't know you cared," Izzy sniffled, a smile on her lips.
"I don't. I just don't want to see Lucifer falling apart like some kind of blubbering mess when this happy family shtick blows up in his face," Maze stepped back with a frown, her teeth pulled back in a snarl but Izzy knew she didn't mean it. Deep down, Maze was a softie. It showed in how fiercely she protected them. Even if she wouldn't say it in words, her actions spoke loud enough.
"Alright, Mazikeen, that's enough," Lucifer said as he returned, drink in hand. "Don't you have a door to guard?"
She sneered and sauntered off, the door slamming shut behind her. Outside there was likely a long line of disgruntled party animals waiting for their favorite club to let them in, only to wind up disappointed when Maze gestured to the "private event" sign on the door.
If Lucifer was bothered about the lack of business, he didn't show it.
He steered Izzy to her seat, guiding her into the chair he'd pulled out. The table before them had been set with candles and crystal glasses, the mood far more formal and classically romantic than Izzy expected, but in a good way. This was all a pleasant surprise, and she couldn't help but smile as Lucifer pulled out two bottles: one red wine and the other sparkling grape juice.
"For the lady," he said with a flourish, pouring her non-alcoholic drink into her glass before uncorking his wine. The fact that he wasn't already three glasses deep in whiskey spoke enough for itself.
"Thank you."
Lucifer nodded his head with a smile. He placed both bottles to the side and walked away only to come back with two plates of the most mouth-watering pasta carbonara Izzy had ever seen. Pasta was a constant craving of Izzy's thought the pregnancy. She hadn't seen a single one she couldn't devour.
"Do you have secret plans to turn Lux into a Michelin-star restaurant?" Izzy teased, making grabby hands at her pasta.
"Not any time soon," Lucifer replied, wisely stepping out of the way as soon as the plate made contact with the table. He knew by now that if he came between Izzy and her pasta that he risked losing a finger. "I simply saw Lux as the best setting for compromise without compromising your safety. You get out of the penthouse and I get to treat you to dinner."
"You didn't have to," Izzy told him for the hundredth time, though each bite of carbonara had her meaning that less and less. "We could have had dinner at the penthouse and it would have been fine."
"You don't find the penthouse claustrophobic?" Lucifer asked, unconvinced. "It was meant for just one Devil, not three."
"I grew up in a massive compound inside of a church. I actually like the intimate, contained feeling of the penthouse. It's comforting, cozy, even with all the glass walls and sharp edges. Which we will have to baby-proof at some point."
"Yes, especially if the child has wings. Wouldn't want them to get caught in the light fixtures."
"I know we joked about it before, but do you think that's a possibility?"
"Anything is a possibility with you, Miss Lightwood. Better safe than sorry," Lucifer said in a teasing tone. "If you're truly comfortable in the penthouse, I'll let the sleeping dog lie, but the moment you feel trapped we can go wherever you'd like."
Izzy put her utensils down, a strange feeling knotting her stomach. Suddenly, she wished she hadn't eaten so much.
"And if I want to go back to New York? To the Institute?"
Lucifer raised his brows, surprised.
"I would have to tell you that you'd be making a mistake. But I wouldn't stop you."
"Really?"
"Really," he confirmed, gaze dark and steady. "I trust your ability to keep our daughter safe. I trust your ability to know yourself."
"If you trust me so much then why would it be a mistake?" Izzy prodded, not angry but confused. "My whole family is in New York."
"It's not you I don't trust, Miss Lightwood. It's those around you who have proven time and time again that they are not your allies. Can you really say you trust them?"
"You're talking about my parents."
"And the bastards who locked you up to run their twisted experiments."
"Aldertree is dead."
"Your parents are very much alive." Lucifer's frustration was mounting, but kept himself in impeccable control. "You won't even tell them about your pregnancy. How do you think they'll respond to a fully formed baby with abnormal supernatural tendencies cooing in your arms?"
"I don't know, Lucifer. I don't know..." Izzy shook her head, a mix of emotions rolling through her: anger and frustration, but also grief and resignation. "In an ideal world, they'd be happy for me. They'd love our daughter as much as I do. But they're not idea parents. They're barely parents at all."
It was hard to admit, even harder to stomach, but Izzy knew she was deluding herself. Deep down, she knew that her parents wouldn't accept her child, just like they wouldn't accept her now that she hadn't bent to their every whim. Her mother had betrayed her, her father left her behind in his absentee nature. She only had Alec and Magnus, Jace and Clary, and she could keep those relationships anywhere. New York was just a place where she lived a part of her life. It wasn't home, not anymore.
"If you moved back, you'd be subjecting yourself to their rule," Lucifer reminded gently, reaching out to take her hand in support. "You've lived that way before. You've told me you hated it."
"I did. I still do. But what else is there? I can't stay here forever."
Lucifer frowned. "And why not?"
"You don't mean that."
"I never say things I don't mean. You'd ought to know that by now."
Tense silence passed between them. It wasn't bad, just...charged. They stared each other down, assessing their sincerity. Izzy didn't dare allow herself to hope; she'd been bad enough letting her guard down these past months, letting herself settle into Lucifer's home and his life. To make that a real change, not just a transient one, felt like a monumental step that neither of them quite knew the significance of.
"You were weird the other night," Izzy shifted gears abruptly, not at all as gently as she rehearsed in her head. "About the bath. When I - when I said I'd care about you forever. Well, not in those words exactly but..."
"Ah, yes. That."
"Sorry, I'm rambling," she said with a sigh, trying to right her wrong. "I wanted to apologize if I overstepped some boundary or made you uncomfortable - "
"There's no need to apologize, Miss Lightwood. You've done nothing wrong," Lucifer assured, taking a long drink of his wine. It was already his second glass, and while Izzy knew that alcohol had no effect on the Devil, it still put her on edge. It felt like he was hiding behind his glass, and she wanted to know why.
"Then why the strange behavior?"
Lucifer sighed, swirled the dark wine in his glass.
"You have to understand that when you're raised a certain way - perceived a certain way - such feelings don't come as easy. I'm not used to great displays of affection nor hearing that affection in words. It's honestly quite hard for me to believe them."
Izzy's heart hurt for him. "I completely understand."
"Really?"
"Lucifer, I was raised a Shadowhunter. We're not exactly the touchy-feely type. My own parents let me be locked in prison 'for my own good'."
"Yes, well, Robert and Maryse are low on the totem pole of parents, even by Nephlim standards. All offense intended."
"You'll find no arguments here." She never thought she'd be in a place to make light of her trauma, but time and distance made things easier. "We will be better than they were, won't we?"
"My experience in parenting is limited. My own parents were distant, absent even. Everything I know comes from babysitting the Detective's spawn. And yet, I feel as though I can honestly answer yes. This little girl will know nothing but love, if only because you will ensure it, Miss Lightwood."
"Don't count yourself out just yet, Lucifer. Who knows, you might even surprise yourself."
Lucifer's expression was hard to read. Something akin to wonder and tentative hope. Like no one had ever believed in him before. It made Izzy want to go up to Heaven and rant at God himself.
"Speaking of surprises, we should try to come up with a name at some point," Izzy continued before things got too emotional. "I don't want to make something up on the day of delivery, half out of my mind and say something stupid."
"Must we?" Lucifer groaned. Picking out names had been the bane of both their existences for weeks. "Why is such a simple decision anything but?"
The rest of the dinner passed with light banter, no more talk of hard subjects. Izzy asked about past cases and Lucifer questioned her about her most tantalizing missions. They exchanged laughs and many more glasses of wine and juice. After a particularly delicious lemon tart, Izzy felt full and warm and safe. Loved, even. Lucifer might not have thought himself good at the whole feelings thing, but he was doing alright in her book.
By the time ten o'clock rolled around, Izzy felt her eyelids drooping, her body craving sleep. This was more excitement than she was used to, even more than building the IKEA furniture. She craved soft pillows and a plush mattress.
Lucifer, bless him, picked up on her very obvious cues. Perhaps he wasn't that much of a lost cause.
"Come now, Miss Lightwood. Let's get you to bed."
He escorted her up the elevator and into the bedroom where he coaxed her out of the red dress and into a comfy pair of pajamas. Strange, how okay she was about him seeing her naked. Strange, how domestic it was instead of erotic. She was putty in his hands and she trusted him to take care of her. Safe and sound.
Once in bed, Izzy curled up under the covers, gazing up at Lucifer, handsome as ever. He was still in his suit, not planning on joining her any time soon. Not that he needed sleep. He might even decide to open the club up for peak partying hours.
"I didn't tell you the whole truth, earlier," he said softly, his hand carding absently through her hair.
Izzy cocked her head, confused. "I thought you didn't lie."
"I don't, which is why I held my tongue, but you have a right to know, so..." Lucifer sighed, sitting at the edge of the bed, close enough for Izzy to smell the sweet musk and wine scent of him. "It wasn't just my childhood traumas that had me reacting that way about the bath situation."
"Okay, then what was it?"
"I find myself attracted to you, Miss Lightwood," he said, and Izzy laughed. "Of course, you already knew that. Mutual attraction is what led us to this situation in the first place. Mutual attraction is not enough to make a relationship last, and I fully thought that you would fade into the crowd of nameless faces and bodies that littered my sheets."
"Wow, way to boost a girl's ego."
Lucifer laughed along with her. "Truly, my number of exes is staggering. Something I'm proud of, in truth. But then, I got to know you. I got to live with your laugh and your snark and your demands for mangoes at breakfast even when they're out of season. I live with the knots in your shoulders and the way you bite your lip when you're thinking and the skip in your step when you're about to call your brother. All these tiny things that I thought would annoy me, but in truth I find myself enjoying."
Izzy felt her breath catch, her head floating somewhere in space.
"Lucifer...what are you saying?"
His hands found hers, strong palms grounding her back in reality.
"I'm not saying that I'm in love nor am I promising anything to you. I'm not even expecting commitment. You're free to leave as soon as the baby is born and you're out of danger. But I hope that you'll choose to stay," he said, much more vulnerable than Izzy had ever seen him. He licked his lips, his dark gaze darting across her face, searching for a sign everything wasn't about fall apart. "I hope that you'll continue to live with me, that I'll get to continue to wake up to your morning breath and feed you mangoes while our daughter sleeps by our side. Because the truth is I'm falling for you, Isabelle. And I don't want to raise this family with anyone else."
"Well, good, because I want to raise our family with you," Izzy replied, steeling herself with a shaking breath. Lucifer was sure to feel her tremble, the way her entire body buzzed with both fear and wanting. "I...I can't tell you how I feel. Everything's just so overwhelming and I'm stuck between gratitude and something else and it's all so confusing..."
"There's no need to fret, take as much time as you need," Lucifer assured, his hands warm in hers. "Even if nothing happens, if these feelings are just due to proximity and parenthood, then we will still maintain our civility and give our daughter the best life possible. This, I promise you."
Izzy smiled. She believed him.
... - ...
L.A. felt colder to Chloe. No matter what the season, Chloe had always felt comfortable in her blazers or jackets, sometimes even too warm under the blazing sun. She'd refused to remove the layers, however; they were her armor, her shield against the rest of the world. Now, this layer of brown suede was the only thing keeping away the chill that ran down her spine as she looked up at a very familiar building.
"I recognize this place..."
"Hmmm?"
The woman by her side looked at Chloe, curious. Once more, the elegant stranger was clad in all black, her high-necked dress buttoned up to the throat. She twirled her umbrella in her hand, casting her beautiful face in shadows. Only dark eyes glittered under the shade, letting Chloe know that the woman's attention was all on her.
"Earlier this year, there was a case...dead bodies that kept showing up around this old church..." She stared at the broken shutters, the falling shingles, the cracked stone and ruined buttresses. "Are you sure this is the right place?"
"Very sure." The woman's tone was nearly bored, her own gaze raking over the structure with disdain. "Nephilim are a secretive people. They don't like to draw attention."
There was that word again: Nephilim. Lucifer had used it before, had even tried to explain something nonsensical about heaven and hell. Only now, Chloe realized belatedly, he was likely telling the truth. Whatever laid beyond that door was likely something her human mind would break at accepting.
Fear bolted down her spine with each step up the cracked stairs. Her hand halted above the rotted wood, stalling. It was then she realized that she was alone.
She turned back to the woman still on the sidewalk. "You're not coming with me?"
"No. They know my face, and I am...not welcome," she explained, her lips twisted to a grimace. "Perhaps I was too enthusiastic last time I approached them, but it will be different with you. They said I had no proof, but you were the Devil's partner. If not you, who can they believe?"
"I'll make them believe me."
The woman smiled, serene in her beauty. "Thank you, Chloe Decker."
"I should be thanking you..." Chloe laughed a little, realizing - in her own manic chase for answers - how rude she'd been. "You know, I just realized, I never asked for your name.
"You can call me Lily." The woman smiled, her teeth bright white and sharp. For the first time since meeting her, Chloe felt a tad on edge. "Now go. Save us all."
Chloe nodded and turned her back to Lily. She raised her hand to the rotting double doors. It seemed so silly, all the sudden, to knock for entry to an abandoned building. Still, there was something about this place that sent a chill down her spine. Like if she tried to break the doors down they'd hold strong. Like there was something else lurking just under the surface.
Two raps, quick on the wood. They echoed in her ears, down the stairs, down the street. Or maybe Chloe was being dramatic. Her heart was also pounding so hard she could have sworn she'd hear it a mile away.
One moment, then another. Silence stretched uncomfortably.
When Chloe was about to turn and walk away, the doors creaked open. Inside was no abandoned building. In fact, it looked like the church was well maintained, stone swept and walls clear of smog. A well-dressed young boy opened the door, curly hair unruly and glasses smudged.
Like the corpses Chloe found round back, black marks inked his pale skin.
Chloe swallowed.
"How did you find this place, mundane?" the boy demanded in a tone that was better suited for a forty year old.
Chloe reared back, shocked. Coming face to face with a living member of the cult she'd tracked was one thing, but a child member? Jesus, this kid couldn't have been any older than Trixie. And wasn't that a sobering thought: Trixie with tattoos and hardened eyes, knives belted to her waist her lip curling in a snarl over her gapped big girl teeth.
"I-I have something you might want to know about. What your adults might want to know about." She craned her neck around the kid. "Are there any adults around?"
"Go away, mundane," the kid sniffed and went to slam the door.
"Wait!" Chloe shouted, catching the door before it closed along with her opportunity. "It's about Lucifer. Lucifer Morningstar."
That got the kid's attention. He glared at her over the red rims of his glasses, studying Chloe. Chloe felt flayed alive, like a specimen under a microscope.
"Follow me."
The kid opened the door wider.
Chloe hesitated. She shouldn't follow this kid inside. Once she was in, this cult could kill her and leave her like the bodies she'd found months ago. She looked over her shoulder for assurance, only to find that Lily was gone. Vanished. Like she was never there at all. Chloe was alone.
There was only one path now: forward.
As soon as the doors shut behind her, the world spun. It was like a fog had lifted, the room around her shifting and shimmering until old church walls remodeled themselves with steel beams and glass walls. Sure, the stain glass cast colorful patterns on the floors, but so did the vibrant large screens and glowing weapons.
"Wh-what is this place?"
"Keep moving mundane."
The word mundane must have been a slur, or some kind of terminology for someone who wasn't part of the cult. It was clear mundanes weren't wanted, and she was the only one in the place.
Cult members milled about - people clad in black and covered in the same matching tattoos - focused and driven as soldiers, most of them young. They had to be soldiers, she thought as she followed the kids. They were all so scarily similar: clothes, shoes, the blades strapped to their arms and thighs. She may not have been a soldier, but Chloe was a cop, and she knew what a briefing looked like. She knew what folios and crime boards looked like. They went on around her, voices pitched low and scattered with words she did not know.
Not that her brain was working.
This was so much to take in.
Her cult was far more sophisticated than she believed. Everything was so much more complicated.
Eyes followed her as she followed the kid. They tracked her every move and voices followed. Chloe was used to being watched; on crime scenes, every bystander wanted to get a good look at the first responders and detectives on the case. Everyone wanted to be a true crime junkie. But this? This must be what a deer felt like right before the cougar pounced.
The kid wound them through a series of halls in what used to be the church rectory. Of course, they were well-lit and not very damp, not anything like she'd expect.
They ascended a set of spiral stairs and stopped in front of one door. How it was any different than the others, Chloe didn't know, but the kid knocked sharply three times then folded his hands neatly behind his back. Parade rest. A child solider.
Chloe felt sick.
Footsteps came from the inside and the door swung open. Chloe was greeted by the sight of a woman in black pencil dress and a slicked-back ponytail. Her tattoos stood starkly against her pale skin, her dark eyes flashing with annoyance when she spied Chloe, but softened when she looked down at the boy.
"Max, what is this?" she demanded, talking to the boy as if Chloe were invisible. "You know not to disturb your father and I while we're in meetings."
"This mundane came to the door - "
"And you let her in?" The woman hissed, angered now. She sneered at Chloe, then snapped her gaze back to her son. Chloe had never been parented harshly, but she'd been on the scene of enough neglect and abuse cases to recognize this was no loving home. The kid flinched, but kept his head up.
"She said she had news about Lucifer Morningstar."
Immediately, the woman's anger faded into curiosity. She was still aggravated, but it mellowed as she slid her gaze back to Chloe, looking her from head to toe. If that gaze came from anyone other than this terror of a woman, Chloe would think she was being checked out. Instead, she felt like she was being filleted.
"Come inside."
Both tried to enter, but only Chloe was allowed.
"Not you, Max. You have training to attend."
"Yes Mom," he grumbled before turning around and disappearing down the hall.
Chloe didn't want to be left alone with these strange and austere people. For some reason, she felt safer with the kid. Maybe it was because he was around Trixie's age so she was softer on him than his parents. His parents looked like they were about ready to skewer her.
The woman shut the officer door behind Chloe with a click. No lock, not that it was needed. Chloe was effectively trapped in an office that looked like it came out of a gothic novel, full of dark wood furniture, high ceilings, and stained glass windows just like the rest of the church. At a desk near the center of the room sat a man with a bald head and a dark shadow of stubble across his square jaw. His face was pinched in lines, studying Chloe like a hawk.
"Take a seat," the woman demanded, gesturing to an uncomfortable looking chair across the desk.
The woman stood behind the desk next to her husband, one hand perched on the top of his high-backed chair. They made quite the intimidating couple.
"Who are you, and what is your connection to Lucifer Morningstar?"
"Wow, what a warm welcome," Chloe snapped, finally fed up with being on the outside. "Whatever happened to hello, how are you?"
The man smiled unkindly. "Hello. My name is Robert Lightwood and this is my wife, Maryse."
"Pleased to meet you," Chloe replied, flat in affect because her whole skin itched with anxiety and there was so much nervous energy buzzing down her spine that she felt like throwing herself out the nearest stained glass window just to get out of this place. "My name is Chloe Decker, and I'm a detective with the LAPD."
"Ahh, so you are the mundane law officer who's been sticking their nose in our affairs these past months."
"You were dropping bodies all over my streets. What else was I supposed to do?"
"The unfortunate demise of our fallen Shadowhunters is not mundane business. Your backwards legislation delayed our honoring of the dead, something we cannot easily forgive."
"As much as I feel for you, that's not my fault. I was doing my job, trying to protect regular people from whatever cult you have going on here."
"A cult," Robert laughed, loud and booming. "Is that what you think we are?"
"Of course a mundane would see us this way, minimizing our sacrifice, disregarding it," Maryse sneered.
"We protect you from creatures like Lucifer Morningstar," Robert spat, eyes narrowed at Chloe like she was upsetting him just by standing across from him. "Every time a demon or a creature comes crawling out from Hell, we are the ones who take care of it. We dedicate our lives to protecting this world, you pathetic mundanes, from demonic horrors. This world would crumble without our protection. But by all means, call us a cult."
Two months ago and Chloe would have laughed at this man and called him crazy. But two months ago, she didn't know what she knew now. She hadn't come face to face with the impossible. The Devil.
"Well, you did a pretty terrible job," Chloe said, her voice hoarse with tension. "Lucifer has been right under your nose this whole time, living in LA."
"We are well aware of Lucifer's presence in the area. We had an agreement."
"And that agreement means letting him live amongst mundanes, letting him work with them, terrorize them?" Chloe questioned. "He was my partner for years. We worked side by side, me and the Devil, and not once did anyone warn me of what he was, what he could do. He would stare criminals in the face and it would drive them insane. I didn't know how he did it at the time, but now..."
"Lucifer has been flaunting his power?" Robert asked, his brow quirked. "Oh, no, that wasn't part of our agreement at all."
"Lucifer doesn't care about an agreement!" Chloe argued, getting fed up with Robert and Maryse's nonchalant approach. This was a legitimate problem. They needed to take this seriously.
"Lucifer Morningstar has always been and will continue to be a problem, but at the moment our hands are tied."
"Tied how?"
"He recently did us a favor. Rid the mortal plane of a rather large nuisance. We find ourselves indebted to him."
"Of course you do. Of course." Chloe felt her grip on reality slipping, hysteria settling in. She laughed mirthlessly. "Everyone owes the Devil a favor."
"Miss Decker - "
"And what about the girl he's got hostage?" Chloe shouted over whatever bullshit Robert had to spew. She was just so mad and terrified and helpless. "What happens to her? Is she part of your debt?"
"Girl?" Maryse's face went even paler, her tone small but grave. She stood from her perch on the desk, eyes locked on Chloe, ready to pounce. "What girl?"
"Lucifer is keeping a young woman at his penthouse."
"How do you know this?" Maryse demanded.
"You mustn't let them know I told you," Lily had implored, the photos strewn out before them. Romans passed them by, not paying any mind to the horror show unfolding at this inconspicuous cafe table. "If you tell them it was me, they won't believe you."
"How did you even get these?" Chloe gasped, feeling ill.
She picked one of the photos up. It was grainy, but clear enough to make out Lucifer's tall, imposing form as he postured himself protectively around the body of a much smaller woman. Woman was barely the word for her: fragile, pale, terrified if the posturing of her body was anything to go by. Lucifer was clearly bullying her into Lux, glaring at his surroundings as if they would tear her away from him.
"A woman has her ways," Lily said, her tone dark and rich with fury. "When she's been scored, she's capable of anything."
"I've seen photos," Chloe replied vaguely. She wouldn't betray Lily's confidence, not when the woman had gotten her this far. "Lucifer...he trusts me. He doesn't think anything is wrong, but I can't keep this up forever and - "
Chloe caught her breath. It was so hard to put all these churning feelings to words. All she knew was that she was scared, and she wasn't the one living with Lucifer. That girl in the penthouse, even if she seemed fine, she must have been so, so scared.
"Breathe, Miss Decker," Maryse ordered without an ounce of compassion. "Pull yourself together and tell us about the girl."
"She's young, dark hair, tanned skin. Can't be more than twenty years old," Chloe rattled off like this was just another case, another victim. She kept her eyes ahead on the photo on Robert's desk, understanding sliding into place as she stared into the eyes of a very familiar face. "There."
Chloe pulled the photo off the desk and handed it over, much to the horror of Robert and Maryse.
"My baby," Maryse cried and collapsed into the chair, running her fingers over the photo. The woman didn't shed any tears but Chloe knew the look of a mother in distress. She'd seen it on too many faces, even her own a few times. Even if Maryse was a terrible mother, she was still a mother, and Lucifer had her daughter. That much was certain.
"That creature has our daughter under his spell," Robert spat, hate filling his eyes. "He said he'd put her somewhere safe, but it turns out he's just mocking us. The bastard!"
Robert threw his hands on his desk and cleared it in one fell swoop. Papers and heavy ornaments fell to the ground with a crash, some of them breaking in the fall. Such anger was scary, sure, but not nearly as terrifying as the idea of having your daughter lost to the Devil.
"We have to help her," Maryse pled with her husband, eyes wide and searching. "This has to be enough to violate the agreement. We could send soldiers to his doorstep in an instant - "
"And risk any harm coming to Isabelle? Think this through Maryse," Robert sighed, throwing himself back into his chair. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth. "We will only get one opportunity to free her."
"There's more," Chloe spoke up, both parents eyeing her with desperation. "She's pregnant."
The room got so quiet she could hear a pin drop.
Then, Maryse lost it.
"She's WHAT!" the woman shrieked, her face getting so red that Chloe thought it might burst. That, or Maryse would kill her just for saying the words.
Chloe backed up. "At least eight months along, if not more. Probably ready to give birth any day."
The horror in their eyes mimicked the horror Chloe felt at finding out that particular bit of knowledge. Knowing now that this girl was their daughter...Chloe couldn't imagine the devastation. She briefly thought of Trixie, if this was happening to her, and nausea rolled through her stomach. Devastation wasn't a big enough word to describe that feeling. Neither was rage.
"Bad enough he took her from us, but now this?" Robert seethed.
"Do you think this is why Aldertree took her to Idris? The sickness he found..."
"It's possible," Robert agreed grimly. "He could have been trying to keep it from us, prevent any kind of panic."
"Aldertree should have said something! We had a right to know!" Maryse hissed. "She's our daughter!"
"And I would do something about it if I could, but we'd be fighting with a corpse!" Robert snapped, his anger directed at his wife when it should have gone to Lucifer. He looked over to Chloe, apologetic. "Thank you, Miss Decker, for all of your enlightening information. We can handle things from here."
"Wait - you just...want me to leave?"
"What use do we have for a mundane? You would only slow us down."
"I have Lucifer's trust. I can get close to him without raising any kind of alarm," Chloe argued, unwilling to be dismissed so quickly. She had brought them to this point, had come so far in her own journey. She couldn't stop now. "You can use that. You need me."
"You would betray him so easily? Your partner?" Maryse accused, her eyes narrowing at Chloe. "How can we trust you won't flip on us just as easily?"
"I never once lied to Lucifer, but he spent years lying to me. He broke my trust, my heart - " Chloe sucked in a breath, steeling herself. "He needs to answer for what he's done. And whatever he's doing now, it isn't right. I want to help you make it right, so that maybe, finally, I can get some peace."
The couple exchanged a long, tense look. Whatever conversation their eyes had, it agreed on the same conclusion.
"Well then, Detective," Robert sighed, reaching out his hand to seal the deal. "What do you propose we do?"