I spent the rest of the afternoon and evening practicing with the mirror until I gave myself a throbbing headache. As the sun set, so did I, laying on the couch with a cold cloth on my eyes. While it seemed like all the drums of Africa were pounding simultaneously in my head, I felt accomplished. I'd managed to get a fuzzy picture of George as she curled up and went to sleep.

I had just started to fade away, sinking into the comfortable warmth of the plush leather couch, when there came a knock on my door. I knew who it was before I checked the monitor.

I opened the door, and a very haggard Lucifer leaned on the door jamb. He carried his suit jacket over a shoulder, his white shirt rumbled with the sleeves rolled up. His hair, even though short, was in disarray, and he needed a shave. When he looked up at me, his eyes were dull and tired. "Hi," was all he seemed able to muster.

I gaped at him. "You looked like you've had a day from... well, a day from Hell."

He closed his eyes. "You could say that."

"I'm so sorry, Lucifer."

He hung his head. "May I come in?"

I moved out of the door. "Yes, of course."

As he shuffled past me, I asked, "Can I get you anything?"

"No, I can take care of what I need. I just want your company."

"Let me turn on the heater out on the terrace, and we'll sit out there."

He nodded. "Allow me to help," he said, snapping it on as we went outside. The night air was getting chilly at this time of the year, but the radiant heat from the standing heater carved out a little pocket of comfort.

We sat in the lounge chairs, with feet pointed toward the warmth. He sighed heavily and leaned his head back.

"You want to talk about it?" I asked.

"Not really," he answered. "I just do not want to feel alone, honestly. This seemed like the best place to come."

I blushed, awkward and self-conscious.

He snapped a drink into his hand, though I couldn't tell if it was whiskey or bourbon. "Would you like anything?"

"Wine, please," I requested, and he snapped a glass and a bottle to the small table between us. I helped myself to a generous pour; it wasn't as if we'd run out.

We sat in silence. He didn't appear to want to talk, and I didn't know what to say. So, I left it alone. I got up once to allow George to join us when she meowed at the door, but I settled back into place without a peep from him.

Since he didn't show interest in discussing the 'Big Thing,' whatever it was, I asked him about something else, just to get him out of his head.

"Lucifer?"

He turned to me as if he realized I was there for the first time. "Hmm?"

"How come I had to invite you in when you came for me? Why didn't you just come in like you have other times?"

"I could not come in because you told me I could not."

"But you came in and left all the scrying materials here without permission."

"Yes. And?"

I sighed. "So why could you come in then, but not later?"

"Because this is the way consent in my domain works. I assume the admittance I want or need unless specifically told otherwise. After that, the person's wishes sometimes bind me."

"So, you could come and go as you pleased until I told you to stay out?"

"Correct," he said, pausing, "somewhat. I could ignore your wishes under certain circumstances, even if you tried to keep me out. For example, if I had needed to come in to fulfill our contract, I could have done so. Or, if I had needed to do so to create a contract, I could have. Nothing can stop me from performing my duties."

"Rescuing me wasn't part of you, 'performing your duties,' then?"

"No, most certainly not. Quite the opposite, in fact. If you died, I would indeed lose a good candidate for finding the Virtues, but I would get your soul, and there are other candidates. Given that, I could not enter unless it was to collect you." He took a long drink and sank back into silence.

I let it go on for a few moments before asking another question. "You told me when we made our first deal I would live to be old. So, what happened? Why did I almost die?"

"Things changed between us when I asked for a favor."

I picked at the fuzz on my sweater. "Do I live to be old now?"

"I do not know, Olivia. I no longer see your future since I have allowed yours to influence mine to such a degree." He finished his drink, then swirled in a fresh one. He downed it before stirring in yet another.

I couldn't stand it any longer. "What's wrong, Lucifer?"

He sighed and leaned back again. "I—I don't quite know where to begin."

"Just pick a place, then, I guess," I encouraged, sipping.

He held his drink aloft and swirled the ice around, watching the motion. While he stared, he said, "I went to Heaven today."

I choked on my wine and coughed. It was not the beginning I had expected. When I could breathe again, I asked, "Why?"

"To try and see if I could arrange for some new terms between us."

"You want to break our contract?"

"No. No, I very much want those souls, and you are the perfect person to do the job."

My stomach dropped. I was a little horrified by how relieved I was to hear his words and how smug I felt about being 'special' for the job of killing seven people. I picked at my sweater a little more.

"I wanted to see if I could convince him to give you your daughter back."

The glass of wine slipped from my hand, bounced off my lap, and landed on the concrete, cracked and broken. I ignored it. "What did He say?"

Lucifer snorted. "What He says every time I ask Him for something. 'You have nothing left to bargain with, Lucifer.'"

"He—He wouldn't do it?" I asked, my voice strained and my eyes full of tears.

Lucifer looked at me, the concern plain on his face, and snapped away the glass, spilled wine, and his drink. He moved smoothly and came to kneel beside me. "While He did not say so, I do not expect He would not do it. Though, He certainly implied this to be the case just for the drama and pain it caused me." He reached and cupped my face. "I do not think, ultimately, He could do it and still maintain His sense of order."

I closed my eyes. "Well, in the end, whether He wouldn't, or couldn't, doesn't matter much when it comes to the outcome. Deirdre is still there, and I am still here. There is no way for the two of us to be together ever again." Opening my eyes, I gazed at him, "Unless I fulfill my contract with you."

He took his hands away, withdrawing. "I am sorry, Olivia. This would seem to be the case. I tried to make it different."

I smiled weakly. "Thank you, Lucifer, for that."

He sat back on his heels and reached into his pocket. "I did, however, make another stop on the way home. I got this for you." He handed me a small box.

I couldn't help but chuckle, though outright laughter was beyond me. "What is it with you two and jewelry? This is the second box today! Lilith had a box for me too."

He paused. "My sister gave you jewelry?"

I pulled out the scrying pendant and showed him. "She gave me this. She said it would be my portable scrying mirror and would likely be very useful."

Lucifer palmed the pendant and looked at it closely. "Yes. Yes, I do believe it will. Well done, Lilith!" he exclaimed, mostly to himself. "Take a look at what I brought. I think this, too, could be helpful." He held out the box once more.

I took it and opened it. Inside, a small ring, a silver vine, shaped itself into the Tree of Life. I took it out of the box and tried it on my right hand. It adjusted itself and curled around my middle finger. "It's beautiful. But I don't understand. Other than it is a gift from you, why is it important?"

"It is charmed with powerful magic, Olivia. One of protection. This will help keep you safe... and alive."

I looked at the tiny circlet of silver, wide-eyed. "This is a ring of immortality?"

He laughed, honestly laughed, for the first time that night. "No, Olivia, such things do not exist. This, however, is charged with life. Should you be hurt, it provides a little extra life for you."

"Thank you, Lucifer. This is kind of you."

He inclined his head. "Let us go back inside. I would see you tucked in before I leave."

I blinked. "You're... leaving?"

He looked at me, eyes smoldering. "I would stay, Olivia, but now is not the time. You are still weak, and you are feeling vulnerable, grateful, and overwhelmed. It would not be fair, and I think you know that."

Holy shit. He cares!

Lucifer stood, pulling me up with him, and held my hand as he ushered me to my room. I was glad he didn't seem to expect me to speak because I couldn't have; his behavior shocked me.

He snapped me into my typical night attire of sleep pants and t-shirt before turning down the bed for me. I climbed in, George jumping up from the other side. Then, he literally tucked me in.

He raised my hand to his lips and brushed them against my knuckles. I understood in that instant him leaving me was the greatest gift he could give me; he denied himself for my benefit. I got the impression this was not a common occurrence.

He fire-snapped a portal to his office. "Good night, Olivia."

"Good night, Lucifer." I closed my eyes, not wanting to watch him leave. I knew he was right; I was in a vulnerable place and, once it passed, I might not feel the same. He hesitated, so I rolled over, away from him.

He sighed, the portal closed, leaving only George and me.