Lucifer walked down the empty street, neon lights washing across his face in bleeding streaks of red and blue. The wind carried stale city warmth mixed with the faint sweetness of nearby flowers that refused to die, even here.
He heard her footsteps before she even stepped off the curb.
He sighed softly, closing his eyes for a moment, feeling the tiredness seep through him like cold water soaking into old stone.
"Come out," he said, his voice low but carrying. "Ivy."
She froze, half-hidden behind the burned-out husk of an old street kiosk. Then, slowly, she stepped into the open, her boots crunching against stray gravel and broken glass.
She wore the same jacket from the van ride. Her hair was tied back roughly, dark strands falling over her eyes. She looked small against the emptiness of the street, but her gaze didn't waver.
Lucifer turned to face her fully, slipping his hands into his pockets.
