Lucifer stopped mid-step. A voice cut through the air like a sharp, playful tune, and soaked in venom.
"And where do you think you're going?"
He turned slowly.
A man stood at the far edge of the roof, hands in his pockets, posture relaxed like he had all the time in the world. His red hair burned like fire under the blood-washed sky, and his crimson eyes gleamed with lazy amusement.
Lucifer knew immediately.
"You must be Daniel."
The man grinned. Wide. Too wide.
"The one and only."
His eyes flicked to Lucifer's fangs, the dark veins under his skin, the dried blood on his hands.
"Huh. A vampire. Of course. Mother always had strange tastes."
Lucifer's jaw tensed.
Daniel's gaze drifted to the side, to where Vina lay curled on the rooftop, still shaking, still clutching her chest.
He whistled low.
"Look what you did to poor Vina. Brutal. Savage. Unforgiving. You definitely inherited Mother's wrath."
Lucifer's eyes darkened.
"Stop saying that."
