Chapter 27 Lucifer
LUCIFER
My phone buzzes under my pillow, the vibrations shaking the entire fucking bed.
I’m content to ignore it.
Until the bastard device buzzes again—longer this time—like it’s deliberately testing my fucking patience.
Bold move.
Hasn’t the shitty thing got any internal memory? Or is it like the rest of the world—determined to learn nothing from its own suffering?
You’d think the piece of metal would have stopped this incessant buzzing after my seventh new phone this year.
I shove my face deeper into the pillow, my back aching in that dull, post-shift way that means I did some good work last night.
Buzz. Buzz.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I mutter, rolling onto my back and snatching it out from under the pillow.
I squint at the screen, already planning the murder of whichever fucker is on the other end of this line.
I answer without bothering to soften my tone. “If this isn’t urgent, I’m coming down there and stapling your tongue to the pier.”
There’s a pause at the other end. A slow, careful breath, as if the person is actually scared of me.
Good. It’s always easier when people clock you as the villain from the start. Saves me the effort of teaching them the hard way.
“Lucifer,” he says shakily. “You—you told me to call you.”
“I don’t even know who the fuck you are.”
His heart stutters on the other end of the line, and I just know he’s something small and breakable. The sort the world snaps without even noticing.
“It’s, um, Myles. Myles Matthews. You, um, you asked me to help you?”
I sit up. Just like that, the fog burns off.
I need to tread carefully. The kid is a mouse shifter—soft, skittish, and exceptionally easy to scare.
He’s about Maeve’s age, maybe a year younger. And for reasons I don’t feel like unpacking at stupid o’clock, I’ve got a weak spot for him and his twin after our shared “kidnapping” mess.
I don’t usually keep people like him once my job is done. They’re too breakable—too damaged. But something about the mice called to me.
Myles is smart. Dangerous in that quiet little way of his—fingers on a keyboard, and the whole world could burn.
He’s the kind of person you keep close because you don’t have to threaten him to earn loyalty.
No, he’s someone that I need to reward. Keep him safe, and he stays.
“Shit. Myles, my man, I do apologise,” I say, forcing charm into my voice like I’m flicking on the politician switch I was brought up around. “I thought—well, it doesn’t matter. I never meant to bite your head off.”
“It’s… it’s okay, Lucifer. Um, Mr Graves.”
“Lucifer—Luc, even—is just fine. Now, what can I do for you?”
“I found him.”
“Him?” I bite back a snarl. “You know who took the contract?”
“Yes. Well, I think so. It wasn’t easy—they covered their tracks well. But I found a pattern in the blockchain transactions that... um... well, it’s complicated, but I traced it back.”
I don’t give a fuck how he did it. Wizards have wands. Myles has a keyboard. Same result.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed and grab my boxers from the floor. Not only am I up ridiculously early after my long fucking night, but now I need to handle it.
Fuck, Fate’s really got her hand on my throat today, seeing how hard she can push me before I bite back.
“I need a name, Myles. Who is it?” I slip on my boxers, already searching for a clean shirt.
When you’ve got a lead, you don’t waste time.
Another pause. Longer this time.
He’s not scared of me. He’s scared of being the one who hands me the match—and has to live knowing he watched me strike it.
My imp stretches awake within me, alert and intrigued.
He wants out there. Now.
He wants this cunt to bleed for what they did to her.
To our mate.
“I… it’s Caspian. He’s a siren shifter, mated to a mermaid, and currently works—”
“I know him. The siren, right?” I interrupt.
I stare at the wall, my pulse ticking in my throat like a countdown.
“Yes.” He sounds regretful.
“Currently working a protection detail on Alpha Phoenix’s orders.”
“Yes. I found his signature on his contract. Wait, no, that’s not what I meant. Not the bad contract. Just his employment one.”
I exhale, slow and deliberate, because if I don’t, I’m going to laugh—and that would be a mistake right now.
If I let the insanity loose now, I won’t get it back until the job’s done, and that’s a waste.
I need a clear head long enough to secure Maeve first, because vengeance is an indulgence.
Keeping her alive is the law.
“That,” I say quietly, “is the worst possible answer you could’ve given me. But you’ve done a good job. Really.”
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I already know exactly how Maeve is going to take it.
And I know she gets the honour of hearing it first.
“I wanted to help you, Lucifer, but, um, I need you to know he was just the one to deliver it. He didn’t, well, um, it was already—the man—”
“Take a breath, kid,” I say, pitching my voice somewhere that sounds like calm.
Whether it actually works is debatable—my nerves feel like they’re on fucking fire.
I yank a pair of pants from the wardrobe and step into them while Myles wrestles his stutter back under control.
“Caspian was only paid to deliver the package. It was sealed upon collection,” he says almost calmly.
I silence my side of the line for a second, cursing like hell, before unmuting again. “How sure are you that it was him, Myles?”
“Very,” he says. His voice trembles, but there’s a certainty there that makes my imp howl with approval. “I triple-checked the data trails just to be sure. It all leads back to him, I swear.”
My imp hisses in pleasure, already dreaming up the blood we’ll spill. But I shove it down hard.
Now is not the time. Not when I know exactly how badly this is going to fuck my girl up.
She’s never liked Caspian, sure, but knowing he’s been in charge of her? He’s been in her home. Around her friend.
This is going to devastate her. Because it’s not just a betrayal but proximity in the first place she ever felt safe.
“Thank you, Myles. I’m gonna need his last known location, please. Address, schedule, everything you’ve got on him.”
I pull a clean shirt over my head, already planning how we’re going to handle this.
First—Maeve. I need to make sure she’s safe and out of his reach.
Next—Draven. Daddy needs the full picture so he can start moving pieces on the board.
Then the twins, the nosy cunts that they are. They’ll sniff the drama out faster than a bloodhound.
Atticus. Alvie. Ari. Wade.
Fuck. That’s a lot of people I couldn’t give a fuck about to loop in—for her.
I can even do it politely if it keeps her safe.
“Yes, sir. I’ve compiled everything into a file.”
“Good work.” I pause, actually meaning it. “This isn’t on you. You’re just the messenger, Myles. You did exactly what I asked, and you did it well, at that.”
I can practically smell his relief through the line. “Thank you, Mr, um, Lucifer.”
“I’ll transfer the funds to your account today. And something extra for the trouble. You do good work, kid.”
“I—I don’t need anything, really,” he stutters.
“Yeah, well, you’re getting something anyway.” I grab my jacket, shrugging it on as I move out of my room. “Good work doesn’t go unrewarded, and I want to make sure you’re safe.”
“Safe?”
“We’ll talk about it another time, okay? Send me the files, and I’ll call you later on.”
“Already done. They’re encrypted, and I’ve sent you the password separately. Just in case.”
I grin. “Thanks.”
I hang up on the cute little mouse and shove my feet into my trainers. I don’t bother lacing them tighter as I leave my storage locker and head to Maeve’s flat.
I can’t imagine she stayed at Hadrian’s place longer than she needed to, but we’re going to have to go back.
I can’t let her stay at her place, not with the huge security breach.
By the time I reach Maeve’s building, my fingers have bruised the steering wheel, and my jaw’s half locked from holding myself back.
Not sure even my supernatural healing can fix this level of stress.
I don’t waste time knocking—never have, never will—instead, shoving my key in the lock, the metal teeth barely catching before I throw myself inside.
“Maeve!” I shout, tension threading through me.
Nothing. No answer. No running feet, no biting sarcasm, not even a swift “fuck off.” The silence hits like a fist.
“Maeve!” I yell again, my vocal cords cutting out. “Come on, princess, don’t ignore me.”
Ari rounds the corner, coming into the hallway, her mouth quirked with wariness as her eyes already dart to the exit.
She’s dressed for work, the standard-issue polo stretched tight over her shoulders, and her dark blonde hair is knotted in a ponytail.
The sight of her alive, unharmed, and unworried gives me exactly zero relief.
She’s not who I came for.
She’s not the person I needed to see.
“She’s not here. What’s going on?” Ari demands, her voice laced with wary suspicion, “Is she—did something happen to her?”
There’s a hitch in her voice, a flicker of real fear, and I don’t blame her.
Maeve is… difficult to get to know. Guarded. Sharp. Dark.
But once she lets you in, you realise she’s the light—she’s soft where the world is sharp, brave when it has done everything it could to quiet her.
She’s everything that matters.
My perfect mate.
Ari is lucky to have her in her life, and with her gone… it’s terrifying.
“She’s fine, I promise,” I say, biting off the words so they don’t betray how little I believe them. I step into the living room, scanning for any sign that Maeve has been home this morning.
“She’s not been back,” Ari continues. “Should we be worried?”
“Who is with you?” I ask instead.
Ari’s hand curls around her phone before gesturing her chin towards the kitchen. Alvie emerges, blinking blearily and holding a half-eaten bacon sandwich.
Greedy bastard. That was probably meant for me.
I heave a sigh of relief, thankful it’s him and not the siren. I don’t think I’d have remained calm enough to explain to Ari what happened before I smashed his face in.