Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

AN: Lucifer and all recognizable characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and FOX television. Set post 'Take Me Back to Hell'. (Written prior to the start of season 2.)

Summary: There is only one thing that can make an immortal vulnerable, only one thing that can hurt an angel aside from another angel - their mate. It was only a rumor, a baseless myth, something Amenadiel had never believed in, until it happened to Lucifer.

Mazikeen looked down on Amenadiel as he slept. She didn't understand why she had given Lucifer's feather to him, or why it had caused such an enraged panic inside of her to see him so badly injured. She was a demon. Why did she care? But it wasn't just him, and she knew that. It was Trixie, as well. And now, her mother had been added to that list. None of it made any sense to her. She hadn't cared about anyone, or anything since the beginning of time, but now she did and as much as it scared her, it somehow thrilled her, too.

She certainly didn't find the same amusement in it that Lucifer did, but there was a certain emotional buzz that she would get when she saw any of them now, especially Trixie. She shook her head as she paced and growled low at herself. The only thing this caring would do was make her as vulnerable as it had Lucifer. She had no desire to find out if she could get injured as easily as a mortal could. Closing her eyes as she took in a deep breath, she turned back to look at Amenadiel.

"I'll be back, I'll just be more me," she whispered to the sleeping angel as she plucked a feather from his wing.

Tucking the feather into her pocket, she grabbed the keys for her motorcycle and walked quickly toward the elevator. She didn't have any time to spare. If she waited, if she hesitated even for a moment, she would return to Amenadiel's side and watch him until he woke. She couldn't do that, she couldn't be that.

It didn't take her long to get to the beach, and even less time to travel across the deserted sand. The moon shone down on her as she stood at the water's edge and pressed the feather between her palms as though in prayer. Closing her eyes as she took in a deep steadying breath, Mazikeen spoke the incantation and felt the warmth as the fires of Hell surrounded her, swallowing her whole.

She breathed in deeply as the scents of brimstone and ash surrounded her. There were souls crying out, the lost and forgotten who had found their way to Hell after she and Lucifer had left. Their Hells were on autopilot, a torment they created for themselves. Everything they loved had been taken away, or in some manner used against them. Her boots clicked as she stepped through the halls, a smile crossing her face at the simple pleasure of hearing so many evil souls being tortured.

One voice captured her attention, and she turned as her demon side showed. Growling low as she came to stand in front of the cell, Mazikeen opened the door and stepped inside. The man was demanding to be released, yelling that he didn't belong down here, and when Mazikeen saw him, the rage she felt burst forth in an almighty roar. Claws that she only had in Hell extended from where her nails normally were, and she snarled as she reached out.

Malcolm Graham screamed as Mazikeen cut into him, digging her claws into his shoulders and dragging them down his arms. His skin opened beneath her claws as easily as butter, and she purred in the pleasure of the long overdue retribution as she tore him to pieces. Skin was peeled off in some places, in others the cuts made by her claws extended down to his bone. She snarled and purred as she tore at him until he breathed his last. Oh, but the fun had only just begun, she thought. In no time at all, he would be alive again and unharmed as his soul awaited more torture.

She stepped from his cage and locked the door as she took in a deep breath. She was calmer now than she had been in a long time, and she closed her eyes as she leaned back against the door. A smile twisted her lips as she felt the ash fall on her skin. That was one thing she did miss from the earthly plane. Here in Hell, as soon as she exited a cell, any blood or bodily fluids that had gotten on her during the torture would be erased. In the mortal realm, the blood would stay on her skin, congealing and flaking until she cleaned herself of the mess. It had made her practice more finesse, but she had to admit an almost fondness for the feel of the blood long after the work was done.

Her brow furrowed as she pushed away from Malcolm's cell and stepped away from the door. There was a voice that didn't belong, a presence that shouldn't be in Hell. She could smell it - another angel. It was the way warm cream blended with burnt sugar, and just a hint of vanilla. Until going to the earthly plane, she had believed this scent to belong to angels alone. Who would have guessed that celestial beings smelled like Crème Brule?

"Get out of here!" A harsh whisper sounded from her left, and her eyes widened to see Lilith crouching in the space between the cells. "Mazikeen, go!" she snapped at her.

"What's going on?" Mazikeen demanded as she moved to step past Lilith, only to have the demon pull her forcibly into the hiding place.

"He's crazed!" Lilith whispered harshly. "Thousands of demons have already been killed," she snapped.

"By who?" Mazikeen growled, preparing to fight whatever threat had befallen her kin.

"Me," a dark male voice sounded from behind her, and she stilled as she heard Lilith laugh.

There was a rage in Lucifer that he hadn't seen in a long time. A fire burned bright behind his brother's eyes, and as much as he knew they both feared the prospect of their mother being freed from Hell, there was sense of betrayal Amenadiel felt from Lucifer that he wasn't quite sure what to do with. It wasn't directed at him, that much he did know. He stood from his seat on the couch in the penthouse and followed Lucifer to the elevator. It didn't take them long to reach the bar, and even less time for his brother to find the bottle of scotch he favored.

Normally one to decline, Amenadiel gratefully accepted the glass of spirits his brother offered him. The events of the last thirty hours had more than warranted the alcohol. He narrowed his eyes as he watched Lucifer pace, and sighed silently to himself when he realized his brother wouldn't be the first one to speak. It took him a moment to realize why Lucifer was so upset, his eyes widening as he spoke his thought aloud.

"You think she helped Mom escape, don't you?" Amenadiel asked, and watched Lucifer's eyes glow red.

"Well, that doesn't sound like the kind of evil duplicitous thing a demon would do, now does it?" Lucifer asked, humor covering his rage.

"But why would she do that?" Amenadiel asked, trying to understand what could make Mazikeen do something so reckless.

"Because she wants to go back to Hell.," Lucifer offered with a shake of his head, and downed the scotch in his glass. "Because she knows that Chloe is the one thing that makes me vulnerable?"

Lucifer opened his mouth to say more, to offer his belief that the reason itself didn't matter considering what the outcome inevitably would be, but a crash from outside the club's door drew his attention. His lips twisted in a sardonic smile, disbelieving humor mixing with rage, as he believed the noise to be caused by the humans picketing his club. Ever since the incident with the preacher, his front door had been crowded by religious zealots. They'd wanted him to repent, to change his name, to do any number of things that he had no intention of doing.

The club had been closed for the past day and half due to the investigation, the murder, not to mention the riots the same "good Christians" had started with the few patrons who had shown up to offer him their support. He shook his head as he reached for the bottle of scotch, only to turn his attention sharply to the door when the crash sounded again. He watched the door open in disbelief as someone stumbled inside.

"Bloody Hell," Lucifer cursed as he watched the woman collapse to the floor.

She was too far away for him to see who it was, but he watched her struggle to her feet as he and his brother moved toward her. He cursed again when he recognized the familiar form, his brother mirroring his response as they moved closer to Mazikeen. She lashed out, hissing at them when they got close, and Lucifer pulled back at the sight of her face.

"Maze," Amenadiel whispered in horror from behind him.

The sound of his voice startled her, and Lucifer watched as the demon lashed out again, trying to strike at them. Her movements were clumsy, exaggerated, and aimless. He cursed as he realized that she couldn't see them and called to Mazikeen, trying to get her to recognize his voice. Her face was burnt, her skin torn and bruised, but it was the smell upon her that held his attention the most. Brimstone and burnt cream, ash and rotten meat. She had been to Hell, yes, but she had been attacked by both an angel and a demon.

"Maze!" he snapped at her again, only to watch her hair lift as she spun around. "Bloody Hell," he snarled, and surged forward to wrap his arms around her from behind.

She couldn't see them, her eyes had been burned from their sockets, and she couldn't hear them, the claw marks that shredded her ears made her deafness undeniable. He closed his eyes as he held the struggling demon and pushed his energy into her, healing her injuries as she struggled in his hold. He called to her again, his hold relaxing as she turned and collapsed against him. Lucifer held her, his arms loose around her, her face buried against his chest. If ever there was a time when he thought the demon might cry, now would be it, but she didn't shed a single tear. She simply held onto him as she gathered her bearings, and he let her as he waited to learn what happened.

"Michael," Mazikeen said with difficulty. "Michael's working with Lilith," she panted, fear and exhaustion in her tone. "They freed your mother. Trixie," she whispered the child's name as she lost consciousness.

"Michael?" Amenadiel repeated with disbelief, as Lucifer lifted Mazikeen into his arms. "That's impossible," he denied.

"Is it?" Lucifer asked with a low growl. "There was never any war," he told his brother. "That whole reason Dad cast me out, was nothing but a lie. I was never plotting, or planning anything. All I did was ask Him a question. It was Michael who spread the lies. And it was Michael who turned the others against me."

"What question?" Amenadiel asked, his brow furrowed at his brother's revelation.

"I asked dear old Dad why he gave the humans free will, but left us bound. Aren't we your children, too?" he repeated the question he had asked his father so long ago. "Not long after, I found myself being cast out, and other angels telling me they were ready to fight by my side in the war. I didn't even know there was a war."

"Wait, what?" Amenadiel stood dumbly silent inside of the elevator as Lucifer walked into the penthouse. "Brother?" he called after Lucifer as he gave chase. "The rebellion, the call to choose sides," Amenadiel said as he shook his head, disbelief heavy in his voice and face. "That wasn't you?"

"No," Lucifer said, grinding his teeth as he laid Mazikeen down on the couch. "I never wanted a war. I never wanted anyone to suffer. All I wanted was the truth. And the more He claimed his creation of the humans to be perfect, the more I wanted to know why he had given me the gift of temptation and the ability to pull out a person's deepest darkest desires if not to use it on the humans."

He looked back at the mess that had become of his loft and knew that the same people who had cleaned and repaired it the last time would do so again. In twenty four hours it would look as though nothing had ever happened.

"I didn't force her to take that apple, you know," he told Amenadiel, as he released a harsh sigh. "All I did was ask her if she wanted it. She was the one to pluck it from the tree. She was the one to bite it and eat the fruit." He released a hateful sigh, and shook his head. "I didn't disguise myself as a serpent as your good book proclaims. I didn't lure her to the tree. All of that is nothing but baseless propaganda. The only thing I did, was prove Father wrong."

Rehashing the old stories, revealing the truths that no one had been willing to believe before, had left him raw and bared. He needed to leave. He needed . . . Lucifer closed his eyes as he sighed with amusement at himself. He needed Chloe.

"It's over," Chloe said as she closed her eyes, and dropped her head. "Trixie's safe," she reminded herself, as her hands began to shake. "Lucifer's fine. You're fine. It's all over," she said again, as she pulled in a trembling breath.

In seconds, the shaking had spread from her hands to the rest of her body, and she began to fall. She wasn't sure who caught her, but felt herself seized in a strong pair of arms as she fought to pull the air into her lungs that she so desperately needed. She couldn't breathe, and fought harder to pull air into her body as the arms around her changed their hold on her. Her heart was beating too fast, her lungs burning with the desperate effort to breathe and, as spots began to dance in her vision, she felt herself floating through the air.

"Shhh," Lucifer whispered in her ear, as he sat down on her couch, and held Chloe on his lap. "Just breathe, love," he instructed her softly.

He knew she was hyperventilating, knew he had to calm her breathing before she passed out, but wasn't sure what to do. Too used to being the cause of a person's terror, he wasn't quite sure how to go about calming it. He held her closer as he brought his lips to the shell of her ear and promised her she was safe, promised her his protection. Her trembling increased, the frightened shaking almost violent, and just as her gasping breaths seemed to grow faster, they turned into uncontrolled sobs instead.

Lucifer sighed as he felt her arms move from where they had been folded against his chest, and pressed his lips together in a thin line as she clung to him as though her very sanity depended on it. Maybe it did, he allowed with an arch of his brow. He cupped the back of her head as he leaned back against the couch, and kissed her hair before he tucked her head beneath his chin. The heat of her tears soaked through the silk of his shirt, branding him, as he held her tighter. If Malcolm weren't already dead, he would hunt the little bastard down and kill him for what he had done, and the state Chloe was left in now. She had been so strong throughout everything, and just when he had thought her tough exterior to be impenetrable, he had stepped in through the unlocked door of her house to see her break.

"I'm here, Chloe," Lucifer promised her when she began calling his name, her voice muffled and broken by her sobs. "I'm right here. I've got you."

He looked up at the sound of footsteps and found Trixie to be staring at him with wide frightened eyes, the dark orbs impossibly large in her small face.

"Lucifer," her voice trembled as she spoke his name. "What's wrong with-"

"It's alright, moppet," he promised the child as he cast his eyes down to the woman crying in his arms. "Today's all just been a bit much for your mum."

"She said I won't see daddy again for a long time," she told him, her little chin trembling as she caught her bottom lip between her teeth.

"No, my dear," Lucifer said softly. "I'm afraid you won't. Your dad did something . . . " He frowned as he thought of how best to explain what happened to a child. "A long time ago, your dad did something bad, but today he did something brave. But what he did today, couldn't make up for what he did before."

"So he won't-"

"Luci, you didn't - oh," Amenadiel said as he came to a stop, his eyes wide, and looked between the small child to where his brother sat on the couch cradling the distraught detective in his arms.

"Not one word about this," Lucifer ground out to his brother between clenched teeth, his gaze fierce, before he turned to Trixie with a comforting smile. "It's alright, moppet," he assured the young girl. "This lumbering oaf is my brother," he told her, and glanced between her and Amenadiel. "Amenadiel, this is Beatrice, but everyone calls her Trixie. Beatrice, meet Amenadiel."

"Your brother?" Trixie asked as she turned her attention from Lucifer to his brother. "He doesn't look like you," she said as she edged closer to Lucifer, feeling unsure of meeting anyone new after the events of earlier that day.

"We have the same father," Amenadiel told her, watching curiously as the child seemed to be looking to his brother for assurance and protection.

"So . . . You're step brothers?" Trixie asked, trying to understand how they could be related.

"Something like that," Amenadiel told her with a grin of amusement. "Why don't we give your mom and Lucifer some time alone, okay? I'll even tell you a story if you like," he offered, and watched as Trixie again looked to Lucifer.

"It's alright, moppet," Lucifer assured the girl, and nodded his head toward her bedroom. "Why don't you have him read that book you love so much, hm? The one with the sneezing panda," he suggested, and watched her look at her mom before nodding solemnly.

"A sneezing . . . panda?" Amenadiel asked as he looked at Lucifer in confusion.

"You're sure he's okay?" Trixie whispered to Lucifer, and he nodded.

"Promise," Lucifer replied, and smiled at her. "I would never let anything hurt you, moppet," he pledged to her sincerely, and felt the heat of his brother's stare.

"Go on, Trixie," Amenadiel instructed with a smile. "I'll be right there," he said, and watched the girl disappear into her room. "Once we get them settled, brother," he said to Lucifer, his gaze as resolute as his voice, "you and I need to talk."

Lucifer nodded once, and watched his brother step into Trixie's room. The smooth baritone of Amenadiel's voice soon sounded again, and Lucifer chuckled as he heard the angel read the children's book aloud. The premise of the story was ridiculous, the lines of the fable made more amusing by the knowledge of who read them, and Lucifer smiled as he bent his head down to rest his lips against Chloe's dark blonde hair. He breathed in deeply of her scent before he gathered her close and stood from the couch.

Carrying her up the stairs and down the hall to her bedroom, Lucifer closed the door quietly with his foot, and stepped over to her bed. Her sobs had long since turned into quiet tears, and though he knew she was still awake to some degree, he also knew that she was moments away from falling asleep. She gasped, her breaths hitching and broken, as she clung to him desperately when he tried to lay her down on the bed.

"Shh," Lucifer soothed her, petting her hair as he sat on the bed with her. "I'll be back in a few moments. Why don't you change into something a bit more comfortable to sleep in."

He watched as Chloe seemed to pull into herself, her eyes darting to the side, and cupped her face in his hands, drawing her gaze back to his.

"I'm not leaving you," he promised her, his kind gaze serious. "Certainly not in this condition. I will be back."

"Ok," Chloe said softly, her voice barely a whisper, and he kissed her brow before he stood from the bed.

Lucifer looked back at her as he stood in the doorway, and met her gaze with a reassuring smile before he pulled the door closed behind him. He heard his brother's footsteps in the hall and looked up to meet his gaze. Amenadiel nodded his head toward the landing of the stairs, and Lucifer nodded in return as he followed him through the house and into the kitchen. He opened his mouth to speak, only to fall silent when his brother raised his hand in a request for his silence.

"Before you say anything, Luci," Amenadiel began. "I'm going to ask you a few questions, and I demand your complete honesty."

"I'm always honest," Lucifer said, a bit offended by his brother's insinuation that he wasn't. "You're the one who seems to have a problem with that particular virtue."

"No leaving anything out then," he amended with an arch of his brow.

"Fair enough," Lucifer said with a tilt of his head, and rolled his wrist as he signaled his brother to get on with it.

Amenadiel crossed his arms over his chest as he stared at his brother. "When you first met Detective Decker, did you feel drawn to her?" he asked, only to roll his eyes at his brother's playful smile. "More than just sexually."

Lucifer's smile faded as he looked at his brother. "Yes," he admitted with a sigh.

"Be specific, Luci," Amenadiel demanded. "How were you drawn to her?"

His lips remained closed as his tongue moved up to trace over his front teeth, and Lucifer took in a deep breath before answering his brother's question.

"I couldn't look away from her the first moment we met," he said slowly, hating his brother for digging so deeply for answers he hadn't even wanted to admit to himself. "That first moment when I looked in her eyes, I couldn't see anything else. And later on, when I discovered my ability to pull a person's desire from them had no effect on her, I was . . . I was hooked. She was a mystery I couldn't solve."

Amenadiel breathed in deeply as he nodded slowly. "You told me that your mortality is only in question around her. How so?"

Lucifer fairly snarled as he looked at his brother, and turned around as he moved to the cabinet above the stove. It was the last place he would ever keep liquor, considering the temperatures that would come from below it, but he knew Chloe did so only to keep her daughter from getting into it. He pulled down the bottle of whiskey and reached into the cabinet to the left of it for two glasses. The fact that those same glasses were made of plastic and had cartoon characters on them was of no consequence to him in that moment, though he did hear his brother's chuckle as he poured them both a drink.

Lucifer took a deep swallow of the whiskey, before he set the cup down and met his brother's gaze. "The first time I bled was when I goaded her into shooting me. I was trying to prove a point about my immortality," he said, his grin tinged with wry humor, "and it backfired. I was burned once, carrying her out of a fire," he admitted with ironic humor. "The next time I bled, was when I cut my hand with a knife here in her house. The third time was tonight when Malcolm killed me. When the good detective is not around, my immortality is unquestioned."

Amenadiel nodded slowly, his eyes wide, and took a drink from the princess-decorated glass. "When you are enraged, the devil inside you demanding to be let free, can she calm you?"

"Yes," Lucifer admitted heavily. "She's done so on multiple occasions. All it seems to take is a few words, a touch, sometimes, just a glance."

"And when you've felt unstable," Amenadiel pressed further. "Does she make you feel strong?"

Lucifer growled as he was forced to admit another truth he hadn't wanted to. "Yes. What is the bloody point of this?"

"Just answer a few more questions, brother, and then I will tell you," Amenadiel promised. He waited for Lucifer's nod before he continued. "How long after working together, did sex with other people no longer appeal to you?"

He tried to scoff, tried to brush off the question with his normal wit and bravado, only to meet his brother's gaze and fall silent with a deep sigh.

"Six months," Lucifer admitted, and watched Amenadiel nod thoughtfully. "It didn't stop me from fulfilling my carnal desires, but there was one night, one . . . moment . . ." He drew in a deep breath and released it in a heavy sigh. "And then I just couldn't anymore. They weren't her."

"The deal you made with father tonight," he said, and held up his hand when Lucifer looked ready to protest. "In agreement to do as he asked, and be the 'perfect son', what did father have to promise you in return?"

"To protect Chloe," Lucifer said, his breath rolling from him as his eyes flashed red at the memory of what had brought him to make that promise. "To always keep her and Beatrice safe." He swallowed down the last of his whiskey before pouring more into his cup, and looked up at his brother, his emotions storming in his eyes. "Now what was this bloody round of twenty questions about, dear brother?" he fairly snarled.

"One last question, Luci," Amenadiel postponed him. "You saved Chloe once. You were shot, but you didn't bleed. Your immortality was still intact back then. So what changed?"

Lucifer shook his head. "I . . . " His voice trailed off, the uncertainty clear in his expression.

"You fell in love with her," Amenadiel answered his own question, and watched Lucifer recoil as he scoffed.

"I'm the devil, you nit," Lucifer growled. "The devil doesn't fall in love."

"Then why did you go after her? Why have you saved her time and time again, if not for love?" Amenadiel asked pointedly.

"What is your point with all of this?" Lucifer raged quietly, his voice growling.

"My point," Amenadiel emphasized, "is that you have repeatedly sacrificed yourself for her, and only for her - and her child," he allowed with a tilt of his head. "You would return to Hell - give up your freedom - for her. Not for father, not for me, or Mazikeen, but for her - a human. You protect her," he continued, his words slow as he stared at his brother pointedly. "You care about her. Even now, you are more angered that I'm keeping you from her than you are that I'm asking these questions."

"Stop this nonsense," he scoffed, and downed the half glass of whiskey in one long gulp.

"Don't brush me off, Luci. You won't survive without her," Amenadiel warned. "And she won't survive without you. Only true love could make an angel so vulnerable."

"I've no time for fairytales, brother," Lucifer sneered, and turned away. "The devil can't fall in love," he laughed at the absurdity of it. "Not that it would matter if I had. You seem to forget, dear brother. Once I find mummy and put her back in her cage, I will be condemned to Hell as well."

Amenadiel watched Lucifer turn away and leave the kitchen. "No you won't, Luci," he said when Lucifer was too far away to hear him, and disappeared with a rush of wind.

Lucifer opened the door quietly as he stepped into Chloe's bedroom, and shut the door silently behind himself. He bent down to remove his hand-stitched Italian shoes, and set them by the door before he removed his belt. In moments, he was wearing nothing but his black silk boxers, his pants and shirt folded neatly on the chair by the window with his suit jacket folded over the back of it. Chloe moaned as he sat on the bed behind her, and he lifted the cotton sheets and overstuffed comforter as he slipped into the bed with her.

He smiled when she called his name, and leaned over to press a kiss to her temple as he settled behind her. He soothed her when she turned to face him, his expression turning serious as she tucked herself against his chest. Unlike himself, Amenadiel had not only the ability, but also the will to lie. Lucifer knew that he could lie if he wanted to, but had never once seen the point of doing so. It simply wasn't in the devil's nature to be dishonest, but his brother's honesty was something that was almost always in question. At least when it came to him.

He didn't know if he believed in the notion of an angel finding true love, or that Chloe was his. The only thing he was certain of, beyond the shadow of a doubt, was that he would do anything to protect Chloe and her little spawn. When he had seen Malcolm pointing a gun at Chloe earlier that evening, and heard the deranged man's confession that he had meant to kill her almost a year prior on Palmetto Street, he had felt something inside him snap even as the coldness of his rage gave him a certain kind of clarity. He had vowed in that moment to do whatever it took to protect Chloe, even if it meant his own mortal death.

"Lucifer?" Chloe called his name again as her eyes fluttered open, turning her head up to look at him, her gaze darkened by the exhaustion clouding her mind.

He kissed her brow in lieu of answering her, and felt the rush of her breath against his chest when she sighed deeply.

"Don't leave," she begged, the words slurred together, as she fought to stay awake.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he told her, and chuckled as he smiled wickedly at her. "Looks like I finally got you into bed."

"Shaddup," she mumbled, and slapped weakly at his chest.

"Go to sleep, love," he told her softly, as he captured her offending hand and held it over his heart. "I'll keep you safe."

She mumbled softly, her words unintelligible, before her eyes fluttered closed and she fell asleep in his arms. He chuckled at the sound of his name on her lips and wondered why it seemed that everything between them was always, in some manner, upside down and backwards. He kissed her brow as he petted her hair, before he let his head drop to the pillow with a sigh, and was asleep within seconds.

A dark shadow fell across the patch of moonlight that crossed the corner of the end of the bed. The eyes that watched over the occupants of the bed were dark, fierce, and though the person they belonged to had often wanted to kill the detective, Mazikeen found that the human woman had earned a grudging kind of respect from her. Mazikeen was a demon, immortal, but still the detective had thrown herself on top of her, shielding her with her fragile human body.

Mazikeen turned away from the sleeping couple, exiting the room soundlessly and stepped through the house. So much had happened that day, so many things that she was still only beginning to understand. She and the detective had been reluctant partners for a few good hours, though somehow both had found amusement and excitement in the pairing. Amenadiel had nearly died and she had given the feather she had taken from Lucifer's wing to heal the angel, and in the same moment admitted that there was something undeniable and intangible between her and Lucifer's brother.

And then there was Trixie, she thought as she stepped up to the child's bedroom and slipped inside. She would never admit as such out loud, but she was very attached to the child who seemed enamored by her boss. Trixie wasn't shy about saying what she thought, or giving an honest answer even if it sounded rude. Perhaps it was just the simplicity of youth that allowed the child such frank honesty, but she appreciated it all the same. It was why she had fought so hard to get back here, back to LUX to warn Lucifer about his mother even though she had barely been able to keep herself upright. The thought of his mother hurting Trixie had been the only motivation she'd needed.

"Maze?" Trixie called her name in the darkness, her young voice thickened by her tears.

"Thought you were asleep," Mazikeen said as she looked at Trixie.

Trixie shrugged her shoulders quietly as she bit her lip. "I try, but . . . I keep seeing that man, the detective. He scared mom. I've never seen mom scared before," she admitted softly.

"Malcolm is dead, and he is in Hell where he belongs," Mazikeen said matter-of-factly, her expression fierce. "He can't hurt you anymore," she promised Trixie in a softer voice.

"He tried to kill mom," Trixie said, as she sat up against the headboard of her bed with her knees against her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. "He said he'd tried to kill her before. He laughed. He . . . And then Lucifer. . . " Trixie fell silent as her breath hitched and tears filled her eyes. "There was blood on his shirt - lots of it," she told Mazikeen. "Mom said he died, and - and . . . "

Mazikeen's eyes widened, her arms held away as she stared down at the human child that was suddenly curled up on her lap with her arms wrapped around her waist. The girl was crying into her chest, and Mazikeen released a deep sigh as she reluctantly returned the embrace, patting Trixie awkwardly on the back. Her head fell back to thump against the wall behind her when Trixie curled closer.

"I love you, Maze," Trixie murmured as she fell asleep, and the demon looked up at the ceiling.

She was a warrior, a demon. She was Lucifer's most loyal and fierce protector. She was feared by most, but this small human child loved her. And Lucifer, Mazikeen admitted reluctantly, loved the child's mother. Her arms tightened around Trixie unconsciously when she thought of the possibility that the girl could have been killed that night, and she found herself shaken by the prospect of it. Trixie had been the first true friend she had made, and she knew she would do whatever it took to protect the girl in her arms.

"What do you want?" Mazikeen asked, her voice casual and uncaring as she kept her gaze focused on the ceiling, affecting an air of nonchalance.

"The same thing you do," Amenadiel said as he looked at the picture she made, with the child wrapped in her arms.

"You came here to hold Trixie?" Mazikeen asked as she leveled a bored look at the angel.

"I'm here to protect them," he answered her, his grin teasing even as his eyes spoke of his sincerity. "C'mon, Maze, even you've heard the stories. The soul bond between an angel and their mate."

Mazikeen frowned and nodded slowly. "If an angel and their mate are separated, the mate will die. If the mate of an angel dies, the angel dies," she said as she looked up at Amenadiel. "I thought those were just stories. No angel has ever found a mate before. At least not that I've heard of."

"That's because no angel has," he told her, his tone heavy with the implication of what it meant. "Angels are forbidden to have relations with humans."

Mazikeen scoffed with wry humor. "Really? Then explain niphilium."

"That's why they're forbidden," he said, and released a sigh as he sat on the side of Trixie's bed. "A child of a human and an angel could either be pure and everything divine, or . . . " he said, and lifted his brows in revelation. "They could be more powerful and more dangerous than the worst demons from the pits of Hell. The prospect of them was too dangerous. But then there were also the humans who believed that the niphilium were to be sacrificed as infants, their lives and blood tribute to the God that had allowed them to be created. Humans thought sacrificing them would bring them immortality."

"Oh yes," Mazikeen said with a roll of her eyes. "The beginning of the tales of vampires. Humans who drank the blood of infants to gain immortality. Lucifer favored them when their souls came down to Hell. He was always more creative with them. He never has taken well to the harming of a child."

"No, I don't suppose he would," Amenadiel said, and studied the child in Mazikeen's arms. "Protect them well, Maze."

She narrowed her eyes on him, as she watched him disappear. Something about the tone of his voice had made the words sound like a final goodbye, and she didn't understand it. She shook her head as she reached out for the lamp and extinguished the light to cast the room in darkness. Whatever it was that Amenadiel was thinking, she was certain she would find out about it later. For now, all she wanted to do was sleep.

Reaching for the blanket on the bed when Trixie shivered, Mazikeen wrapped it around the girl in her arms, and closed her eyes. The past twenty-four hours had been challenging to say the least, and she was more than a bit exhausted. Tipping her head down, she kissed the top of Trixie's head without thought, only to scoff at herself for the benevolent gesture. Tipping her head back to lean against the wall behind her, Mazikeen closed her eyes and let sleep claim her.