AI When the door finally surrendered to her determined tapping, Aurora's jaw slackened. Had she the wrong flat? The man standing in the doorway was undoubtedly familiar , but... different. He'd always been a suave, polished, and rather classically attractive Frenchman. Now, this Lucien Moreau had slicked-back white-blond hair and a distinctly sinister air about him. She remembered his striking heterochromia more than his face: one amber and one pitch-black iris. Those eyes, no doubt, were why she'd called him a 'rather attractive man' when she first met him.
"Laila," he greeted, his voice like warm treacle. Was that an amused glint in his eye?
She mustered her reserve, forcing her gaze to meet his. "What do you want?"
He leaned casually against the doorframe, uninvited and utterly unbothered. "A chat."
"Well, you've clearly mistaken me for someone else." She began to push the door shut, except he stopped it with his polished shoe.
With a weary sigh, Aurora stepped back and allowed entrance. "You have five minutes before I throw you out, Luc. Should be enough time for your so-called 'chat'."
As he sauntered in, she couldn't help but notice his stride. The confident sway of his body suggested he didn't expect to be tossed out on his ear anytime soon. Ptolemy, Eva's tabby, wound around Lucien's legs, meowing. Ignoring the cat, he remarked, "Nice security. Your friend has three bolts on her front door."
"She has good reason to."
"Admirable precautionary measures. But you, precious Malphora, evade even her protection."
"I've not seen her in months," Aurora replied. "I've been staying low." Or trying to, at least.
Lucien raised an eyebrow . "Busy on council business, I assume?"
"We don't need to discuss it."
"But I do." His voice hardened .
She whirled around, hands on her hips. "It's none of your business, Lucifer."
"It's all my business," he corrected, eyes narrowing . "The goings-on in our little corner of the world are particularly pertinent to me."
"I wouldn't stay here if I were you."
"I'm staying until I get what I came for."
She snorted. "As if you need to ask. You won everything from him. What's your game now?"
"Answers, for a start."
She fixed him with a stony glare. "Noted. And what have you come to give in return?"
His lips quirked. "I'm more concerned with what you have to give than what I can bestow, Aurora. You haven't been forthcoming with certain... assets of yours. Assets I know you possess."
"You overestimate my capabilities."
"Do I?"
"Or perhaps you assume everyone is as willing to trade secrets as you are."
"If they have nothing to hide, they shouldn't fear exposure," he countered smoothly .
"You're a snake. Always have been."
"We didn't part on the best of terms, I admit. But I've come to set things right, starting with reparations for your loss of service."
"My loss of service?" Aurora scoffed. "You mean my near-death experience at the hands of your dear friends?"
Lucien's jaw clenched, and his eyes flickered with a hint of something darker. "Their actions were regrettable. Your pain was not intended."
"Not intended? You'd have let them rip me to shreds had I not managed to escape."
"You were never the target," he insisted. "Merely a casualty of their thirst for power and knowledge. A means to an end."
"Some casu-" she began, only to be cut off.
"That end being you. They aimed to bend your considerable powers to their will. Impress you into their service. And in doing so, they overlooked your value. Your potential ."
She crossed her arms. "I'm listening."
"You had been instructed to lie low and await further orders. I assumed you wouldn't stray far from Brendan and Jennifer Carter in that time, but I underestimated both your foresight and your resourcefulness. Your disappearance was most impressive, given your weakened state."
"It's called grit, Mr Moreau," she declared, "something you wouldn't understand."
His eyes flashed, and for a moment, Aurora could've sworn she saw a flicker of red. "You call me by my last name, yet you have the audacity to speak of overestimating?" He took a menacing step forward. "Perhaps you need a reminder of just how comprehensive my network is, my dear," he whispered.
"Or perhaps you like playing the big fish in a tiny pond, preying on unaware people! Threatening old men and their families is hardly impressive, you know!" She stood her ground despite the heat of his amber eye boring into her.
For a moment, the silence settled between them, heavy and foreboding . Lucien's nostril's flared, and his hand twitched towards his cane. The ivory handle of the cane, she noted, concealed a thin silver blade.
Taking a breath, she continued, "So why are you here? Why not send one of your thugs?"
"I thought it best to appeal to your... better nature, shall we say?"
Aurora raised her eyebrows. "Do I have one?"
He smirked, the tension easing slightly . "Then let's see about that. Instead of flaunting your skills and courting danger, might I suggest we discuss an arrangement?"
"You know I'm no one's lackey. What makes you think I'd consider working with you again?"
"Because," he drawled, "it's a favour for a favour, Malphora, dearest. I'm willing to let bygones be bygones, but first, I want the truth. What prompted you to desert your post?"
"I'd rather not say."
"I need more than your enigmatic antics, Aurora. Tell me what you know."
She opened her mouth to argue, but he held up a hand.
"Before you decline," he said, "I should tell you something. You remember my son, Mephisto?"
"Mephisto," she repeated, resisting the shudder the name evoked. "Your son. The demon. The... terrifying creature with a rather unpleasant habit of luring humans to their doom."
"Among other things." His tone was guarded. "He's gone."
Aurora stilled. "Gone?"
"In every sense of the word." Lucien's eyes were shadowed , a haunted look on his face.
"A father's grief is nothing to mock. But..."
He nodded. "He disappeared a month ago. There have been no sightings of him since. Not a whisper , not a clue, nada. He's dropped off everyone's radar."
She considered this. "Maybe he finally... passed on?"
A bitter smile crept across his face. "Not likely. Demonic entities have a habit of enduring."
A thought occurred to her. "You think something happened. That he was taken."
"Exactly." Lucien straightened, his eyes hardening . "I know my son, his habits, and his strange... appetites. He's meticulous in his perversions. Whatever has befallen him, it's unprecedented. Something powerful enough to wrench him from this plane without a trace, and I need to know what."
"Why, Moreau? You barely know him, from what I've heard. Why now?"
"Because," he began, voice thick with unspoken emotion, "he's my son, and I'm willing to make amends for my shortcomings as his father."
Watching him carefully , Aurora asked, "And where do I fit into this quest for redemption?"
"He has always been difficult to find. But you... you tracked him once before, if memory serves."
"I happened to be in the right place at the right time. Hardly an endorsement of my abilities," she said lightly , hoping to downplay her involvement.
"I think you underestimate yourself, Miss Carter. Well, we shall see. For your assistance, I can offer you a favour—a rather substantial one, I might add. It could prove useful in the future."
She eyed him warily . "And what's to stop you from betraying me again?"
Lucien smiled. "The fact that you're right here, in perfect health, is testament enough, no? Just think of all the good you could do with a powerful ally like me in your corner."
"Or the chaos I could unleash, given your less savory connections."
"Indeed," he agreed, amused. "That is the devil's bargain, is it not? But you can trust me, Aurora. This time."
She bit her lip, debating. It was unlike her to trust so easily, yet something told her this was different. Perhaps it was genuine desperation she saw in his eyes; maybe his words held more sincerity than she wanted to admit. Either way, she decided, it was a risk worth taking.
"Alright, I'm in," she said finally. "I'll help you find your son, Lucifer. But on one condition." She took a step closer.
"Oh?"
"This favour is already yours," she waved her hand, dismissing it. "But I get to decide how and when it's paid. You have no say in the matter."
His eyebrows raised, and a small smile appeared. "Agreed."
She held out her hand. "Agreed."
After a moment, he shook it, his grip firm and resolute. "Partners?"
"Partners," she affirmed, surprised to find she meant it . "Partners."
As she released his hand, however, a flicker of movement caught her eye. Lucien's leg straightened, seemingly ready to pounce . But it was Ptolemy who leaped onto the counter, his eyes narrowing at the new arrival.
"Goodness," she said softly, her hand going to her heart . "We have company."
Lucien chuckled. "I believe they say that about me, actually."
"You think this is funny?" she demanded, her gaze flitting back to the window, searching .
"I think we're about to get our answer," he replied, and extended his hand. "Shall we?"
Her heart hammered as she placed her hand in his, the warmth of his skin burning through her sleeve. Together, they turned to face the door—her heart, she realized, was racing . But for what?
The sound of their pursuer's breath was heavy and laboured. A shadow crossed the window, and a shrill, animalistic noise tore through the air.
"Well, this won't do," Lucien remarked coolly, his free hand resting on his cane . He strode towards the door, throwing it open with a flourish. "Shall we, my dear?"
Her gaze fixed on his back, his fluid, almost lazy movements towards the staircase as he descended. For a moment, she hesitated, then she followed, her mouth dry.
"Malphora," he called over his shoulder, "you're positively radiant when you're terrified."
"This is hardly the time," she cried, rounding the stairs before she realised.
Lucien, it seemed, had vanished entirely. There was nothing but darkness and silence , and the sound of the door, still swinging gently on its hinges.
A noise from below, low and menacing, brought her attention back to the landing. There, descending from the shadows, was a hulking , menacing figure. In the darkness, its face was unreadable , but its eyes burned with a deep, malevolent fire.
"Who are you?" she whispered, her voice steady despite her fear . "What do you want?"
A raspy, inhuman voice scratched its way into her mind. "Your friend has..." It paused, as if searching for the right words . "Interesting... tastes."
At the word 'friend', the creature's eyes shifted, its gaze fixing on her pointedly.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, her voice shaking slightly . "I'm just a simple student, studying..." Her words stumbled over each other, betraying her.
"You lie. Deception has no place here." The creature stepped forward, tendrils of darkness swirling around its feet. "I can sense your fear, your... anticipation ."
Aurora bit back a gasp, not daring to breathe. Lucien had vanished, and now she was alone, face to face with her worst nightmares come to life.
"You're afraid, Aurora. And with good reason." The creature laughed, the sound like glass shattering. "One more thing: be careful what you wish for. Your mistakes will not be forgiven."
"What do you want?" she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper . "I don't even know who you are!"
"I know you, Aurora. And I know what you've done." A look of unbridled joy crossed its face, its jagged maw splitting into an unholy smile.
"I don't... wait. What have I done?"
The creature's eyes turned cold. "Tell me what you know about your friend, and you might live to see the light of day again."
Aurora's heart began to race . Her breath quickened as comprehension dawned. "You... you're the one from the hospital. You were there when—"
"Why did you run, little witch?" Its voice was sharp, angry. "Why did you abandon me?"
"I didn't know what I was doing!" She pleaded, her eyes welling . "I didn't mean to—"
"No more," the creature snarled, cutting her off. "I want answers, and I want them now."
The world seemed to come to a stop as the creature stepped forward, its ragged claws reaching for her throat. Aurora's heart thundered in her chest, and she felt her body begin to shake.
In one swift motion, Lucien materialised from the shadows. His cane swung through the air, a silver blade glistening in the dim light. With a violent slash, he severed the creature's head from its body, and it collapsed in a mangled heap at his feet.
Time seemed to stand still. Aurora, frozen in place, could only stare in horror at the scene before her: Lucien, standing over the dead creature, his blade covered in its dark blood, his eyes blazing with a terrifying intensity . And before him, the lifeless, decapitated body, its limbs twisted in a macabre dance .
"It's over." His voice was low, soothing, but beneath it lay an undercurrent of steel. "You're safe."
It took a moment for Aurora's numbed brain to process his words. Shaking her head, she looked around, dazed. The stairs. The door. The dark figure. She remembered.
"I... I think I need to sit down," she managed, her legs suddenly weak .
He moved with frightening speed, scooping her into his arms and carrying her to a chair, while she clutched her throat, her mind reeling.
"We're not safe," she choked out. "It said... You heard it. We—"
Lucien's eyes were cold, his jaw set. "I'll deal with this. You rest."
And with that, he turned on his heel, disappearing into the dark.