He should have something to say to that, shouldn't he? Something more profound than the kneejerk 'no, you're wrong' that wanted to come out. The one he'd been swallowing over and over again, with Duke, with Octavia, with Linda, with Chloe.

But Lucifer had nothing. Nothing besides a gut full of squirming, incoherent, self-defeating emotion.

They were all useless. Likely to blow something up. To make Duke stalk off the way Octavia had. Bar maybe one, that fluttered up like a butterfly in some poor doomed woman's box.

He tilted his head just so and caught Duke's lips with his own.