Faced with Lucifer’s angry demand, Williamson immediately explained himself from the other end of the phone.
“I’m sorry, Lucifer.
I only just got my phone back.”
Lucifer’s anger paused.
Williamson lowered his voice.
“They detained me almost as soon as I returned from the Lutz house.
They confiscated my phone and the DV camera.”
Lucifer frowned.
“Who?”
Williamson hesitated for a moment.
“The Church.”
The answer surprised Lucifer.
“The Church can interfere with a television station that easily?”
“It depends on how you look at it.” Williamson sighed.
“A small paranormal show like ours can’t fight an organization with that kind of influence.
Even if the Church itself doesn’t officially control television, plenty of powerful people support it.”
Lucifer understood.
“Alright.”
He ended the call and remained sitting on the sofa.
His anger hadn’t disappeared, but now it had a clear target.
The Church had confiscated the footage, rewritten the story, and turned Father Marcus into a hero while making Lucifer look like a publicity-hungry fraud.
The problem was that Lucifer had only been in Los Angeles for a short time.
He had an unfinished agency, limited money, and nowhere near enough influence to challenge something as established as the Church.
Lucifer slowly opened his palm.
Warm golden Holy Light appeared above it.
He stared at the glow for several seconds.
Fine.
I’ll get stronger first.
There was no reason to rush into a fight he couldn’t win yet.
He could accumulate power, money, contacts, and experience until the day came when suppressing him was no longer an option.
His phone rang again.
Jennifer Check.
Lucifer considered ignoring it, but after a moment he answered.
“Hello?”
“Lucifer, are you okay?
I tried calling earlier.”
“I’m fine.
I was on another call.”
Jennifer was quiet for a moment before speaking more seriously.
“I don’t believe what they showed.”
Lucifer looked at the Holy Light still glowing in his palm.
Jennifer continued, “I saw what you can do with my own eyes.
You made light appear in your hand right in front of me.
Whatever that television show says doesn’t change that.”
Lucifer’s mood eased slightly.
“Exactly.
The truth doesn’t stop being true just because someone edits it out.”
“And something fake doesn’t become real just because enough people repeat it,” Jennifer added.
Lucifer smiled.
“Thanks, Jennifer.”
She laughed softly.
“You’re welcome.
You haven’t spent much time around entertainment people, have you?
Stuff gets twisted all the time.”
“Sounds like you’ve had experience.”
“You could say that.”
A faint sound came from Jennifer’s end of the call.
“Oh, my mom’s awake.
I should go.
I’ll come see your agency when I’m back in Los Angeles.”
“You’re welcome anytime.”
“Goodnight, Lucifer.”
“Goodnight.”
The call ended.
Lucifer felt noticeably calmer.
Since revenge wasn’t realistic right now, he would keep building himself up quietly.
When he eventually became powerful enough, the people who had tried to bury the truth could explain themselves to him instead.
He glanced toward Fred, who was still talking on the television.
Lucifer gave a cold laugh.
“I wonder how hard that guy had to work to sell this story.”
Edward looked toward him cautiously.
“You’re really okay?”
Lucifer raised an eyebrow.
“Maybe you should break something,” Edward continued.
“You’re being way too calm now.”
Lucifer laughed.
“Break your head.
I’m going back to sleep.”
He stood and headed toward his room, but not before giving Fred one final look and committing the host’s face to memory.
Early the next morning, Edward woke him again.
“Lucifer, why are people calling my phone asking for you?”
Lucifer took the ringing phone and answered.
“Hello?”
“Is this Lucifer’s Supernatural Consulting Agency?”
Lucifer suddenly remembered something.
During his improvised advertisement, he had given Edward’s number.
“Yes.
How can I help you?”
There was a brief silence.
Then the caller shouted, “I just wanted to tell you that you’re a fraud!”
Lucifer moved the phone away from his ear.
“Have a nice day.”
He hung up.
Edward looked at him.
“What was that?”
Lucifer scratched his hair.
“Apparently, I used your number in the advertisement.”
Edward stared at him.
“You did what?”
Lucifer smiled awkwardly.
By late morning, Edward had received six or seven similar calls.
Most were people mocking the broadcast, insulting Lucifer, or calling simply to waste their time.
Watching Edward answer another one, Lucifer finally felt guilty.
“If it gets too annoying, change your number.
I’ll pay for it.”
Edward shook his head.
“I’m your manager anyway.
Someone has to answer the agency calls, so I might as well get used to it.”
Lucifer smiled.
“If I’m Sherlock Holmes, you’re Watson.”
Edward looked down at himself.
“I’m pretty sure Watson wasn’t built like me.”
Lucifer had no response to that.
The two headed downstairs.
Lucifer was wondering how they were supposed to reach the agency when Edward walked toward a used Ford Focus parked by the curb and unlocked it.
Lucifer stopped.
“You bought a car too?”
Edward smiled proudly.
“A 2000 Ford Focus.
Twenty-five hundred dollars.”
Lucifer looked over the vehicle.
“It’ll do.”
In Los Angeles, having a car was almost a necessity, and Edward had wisely made transportation one of his first priorities after they arrived.
Their Valley Village apartment wasn’t far from the agency.
With light traffic, the drive to North Hollywood took around ten minutes.
Lucifer’s new storefront sat on Lankershim Boulevard between a video rental store and a musical-instrument shop.
A small community theater stood diagonally across the street, giving the block a strong arts-and-entertainment atmosphere that made a supernatural consulting office look slightly unusual.
Lucifer unlocked the door and stepped inside.
Edward had already purchased basic desks, chairs, filing supplies, and other office necessities, so the storefront no longer looked completely empty.
Lucifer sat behind the desk and sighed.
“Now we just need actual customers.”
Almost as if responding to him, his phone rang.
Lucifer immediately answered.
“Lucifer’s Supernatural Consulting Agency.
How can I help you?”
A familiar woman’s voice came through.
“Lucifer?”
He recognized her.
“Kathy?”
“Yes.”
Lucifer sat up slightly.
“Is something wrong with the house?”
“No.
The haunting is gone.” Kathy hesitated.
“I called because George and I wanted to apologize.”
Lucifer’s expression became more serious.
“For what?”
“The Church came to us yesterday.
They told us not to talk publicly about what really happened.”
Lucifer’s brow furrowed.
Kathy continued, “They bought the house from us and made it very clear that they didn’t want our family staying in Los Angeles.”
“So you’ve already left?”
“Yes.
We’re on our way out of the city.”
Her voice carried obvious guilt.
“George and I feel terrible.
We know what you did for us, but we can’t publicly defend you without putting the children in the middle of this.”
Lucifer leaned back.
“Then don’t.”
Kathy fell silent.
“Take care of your family.
That’s more important.”
“Lucifer…”
“You already paid me.”
He smiled slightly as he remembered Chelsea’s coin.
“One dollar.
Contract completed.”
Kathy laughed softly despite everything.
Lucifer continued, “Just tell Chelsea that Jodie left happy.”
“I will.”
“And if your family ever gets haunted again, call me.”
Kathy laughed again.
“We will.”
“But next time I’m charging more than a dollar.”
“Fair enough.”
“Have a safe trip, Kathy.”
“Thank you.
Goodbye, Lucifer.”
“Goodbye.”
The call ended.
Lucifer looked at the phone for a moment before setting it on the desk.
The Church had acted fast.
They had controlled the television footage, pressured the Lutz family into silence, purchased the property, and pushed them out of Los Angeles.
Before Lucifer could dwell on it any longer, the agency door opened.
Edward hurried inside with obvious excitement.
“Lucifer!”
Lucifer looked up.
Edward grinned.
“We’ve got a real commission.”
[Reader Support Milestones]