Chapter 3

58 years later… 1988

"Lucifer, you are much too old to still play with your food like this. Just feed, and let's move on." Sam groaned as he lifted his head from the woman he'd just killed, rolling his eyes as he watched me toying with my dinner, allowing him to believe I would let him escape before throwing him back and tormenting him.

"How many times must I tell you, Alastair, my name is Damien, not Lucifer? I have not gone by Lucifer in over a century now, and you must stop calling me that." I responded with a sigh, shaking my head at him as I watched my dinner try to scale the fence to get away, but to no great avail, as there was nowhere, he could hide that I could not find him. 'You would think he would realize by now that he cannot escape unless I allow him to. These humans are by no means of the word smart.'

"If I must call you Damien, you must call me Sam." Sam countered as he walked over to the fence and, in one swift movement, grabbed the man by the back of his shirt and threw him down, the sound of his skull hitting the pavement ringing out clearly in my ears.

"He's dead, damn it. You know how much I loathe a meal without a heartbeat!" I growled as I gave the man a swift kick in the abdomen, snorting in amusement as I watched him go flying across the alleyway and slam into the side of the building across the way.

"And you know how much I loathe having to sit here and wait while you endlessly torment your dinner. We've things to do, Damien; get it over with already."

"Fine," I said with a roll of my eyes, shaking my head as I crossed to where the man had fallen and sank my fangs into his shoulder, drinking his blood as quickly as I could before healing the wound and following Sam as he walked back to the car. "When did you lose all humor?"

"I did not lose all humor, Lucifer; I simply outgrew such childish things."

"You are calling me childish, now?" I asked him as I got into the passenger seat, watching out the window as we sped forward, biting my tongue to stop myself from saying something I knew I'd regret. 'I am not childish; I simply enjoy torment, as you used to. I've taken on the role of the vampire king, and I've fulfilled it for over seventy years. I more than deserve the time to let loose and drop this foolish guise I've been wearing these last decades.'

"I apologize, I am not calling you childish, but I have a present for you. If I allowed you to continue to play with your dinner, I might have exploded from trying to keep this a secret."

"What is it?" I asked him, furrowing my brows in confusion as I looked around to try to see where he was driving us, but to no avail, as I could not tell.

"A present, Lucifer, my god," Sam responded with a roll of his eyes, trying and ultimately failing to hide the grin I could see playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Since when do you give me presents, Alastair? I feel as though this present will leave you the new vampire king from the way you are smiling."

"You turned me into a vampire over a hundred and eighty years ago, and I have not left your side since then. If it were not for you, I would be dead, as I would have been, had you not turned me. I've been looking for a way to thank you, but nothing came close to being equal to what you've given me."

"Out with it, Alastair! I can see that whatever this is, it has you very excited. I do not think I've ever seen you so happy, and that is saying something, as I was there to witness the first time you tasted blood as a newborn." I responded, watching him as we sped forward, trying to grasp what he was thinking, but to no avail, as he was keeping his face emotionless, much to my ever-growing chagrin.

"We are here, so I suppose you will have to wait and see for yourself," Sam responded with a laugh, jumping out of the driver's seat the moment the car came to a stop, nearly skipping towards the front door of the warehouse he'd driven us to.

'His excitement is terrifying, to say the least. What in the world could he possibly have found that made him so damned happy?' I thought as I followed him out of the car, watching him as he held the door open for me, motioning for me to walk ahead of him into the warehouse. I started to walk through the door but stopped when I caught a scent, one that seemed vaguely familiar and strangely so.

"Don't, Lucifer, you'll ruin the surprise!" Sam groaned, then put his hand on my back and shoved me through the door, flipping the light switch on the wall behind us, bringing a group of men into view.

"My god! You found him!" I gasped, unable to stop myself from laughing out in a mixture of amusement and shock when I saw the man kneeling in the center of the warehouse being restrained by a group of seven vampires, his golden eyes narrowed in hatred as they landed on me. "Alexander, long time no see."

"I should have known!" Sinclair responded, trying to shake loose the restraint of the vampires surrounding him, but to no great use, as they would not give him a single inch of leeway.

"So, you're a recreant now, huh?" I asked him, looking over my shoulder at Sam, who was grinning from ear to ear as his eyes darted from me to Sinclair, then back to me as he watched our reactions. "You've truly outdone yourself this time, Alastair."

"Sir," One vampire said, clearing his throat to grab my attention before tossing me a stack of documents. "We found these on the recreant."

"Sinclair? Leave it to you, Alexander." I said as I scanned through his driver's license and passport, snorting in laughter as I tossed Sam the documents, watching as he rolled his eyes and threw them into the garbage can. "Where, oh where, have you been hiding, Alexander?"

"I see not how that is any business of yours, Lucifer," Sinclair responded with a snarl, his golden eyes darkening into an amber shade as he continued to struggle against the vampires restraining him.

"It may be none of my business, but I have to know. I haven't seen you since 1784, Alexander. It's been over two hundred years since then. What year is it now, Alastair?"

"It's 1988 now, Lucifer. Two hundred and four years since he turned you and left without a single word of explanation." Sam happily chimed in as he crouched down in front of Sinclair, cocking his head to the side as he inspected Sinclair's face, then gave him a swift kick in the mid-section, groaning in grief as Sinclair didn't so much as blink. "Tough guy, huh?"

"Tell your leeches to release me. I'll show you just how tough I am, pet of Lucifer." Sinclair responded with a smirk, then spit in Sam's face, letting out a chuckle of amusement as Sam reeled back in disgust. "You are still holding a grudge over two centuries later? I cannot believe they crowned you the king. A whiney bastard like you, driven only by his sociopathic need for chaos and destruction, hell-bent on revenge."

"Driven only by a sociopathic need for chaos and destruction, huh?" I repeated as I crouched down in front of him, narrowing my eyes with a growl as our gazes met. "There is none quite so bastardly as you are, Sinclair," I said, spitting out his name as if it was venom on my tongue, then looked around at the group of vampires restraining him before looking over my shoulder at Sam. "How long do we have before we must pack up and move?"

"Sooner, rather than later. We've been here nearly forty years, and we are very close to outgrowing our current identification." Sam responded, raising an eyebrow as we watched me, waiting for my reasoning for asking.

"The house I told you to build in Chicago, is it ready yet?"

"It is, yes."

"Tell them to build a cage strong enough to hold a recreant and have it done before we arrive. This is a present I do not wish to destroy quite so quickly, as I know it could not have been easy hunting down such elusive prey." I said as I stood, clapping Sam on the back with a grin. "This is a gift I never would have guessed."

"A cage to hold a recreant? It will only take us a few days to get there. I'll tell Bartholomew to have the house retrofitted. Are there any other specifications you'd like?" Sam asked as we walked back to the car, holding the passenger side door open for me, before crossing around to sit in the driver's seat.

"Yes, have every door fitted with steel. If he gets out of the basement, I need to be able to trap him anywhere he may go. The basement door, make sure nothing can break it, and no sound can escape." I said with a nod, turning sideways in my seat to watch him as we drove back towards home, inspecting his face for a long few moments before saying anything more. "How did you find him, Alastair? I have tried for two centuries now, and I do not believe I ever got close."

"It was difficult to do, Lucifer, but by Jove, I did it! That damned man had more connections than either of us thought, which explains how he could abscond our every attempt to locate him before now. I found him in Baley, of all places."

"Baley, Colorado?" I asked as we pulled into the driveway of our house, walking side by side into the mansion, then made our way towards my study, where we began packing our files.

"No. Baley, Russia. I found him a year ago, but I had to have him moved slowly, as I didn't want to chance him escaping. Do you know where Sinclair comes from?

"No, I don't, but based on his accent, I'd say Europe. I suppose it makes sense that he hid in Europe, the sneaky bastard. I cannot for the life of me figure out how a recreant could survive this long when every vampire has been searching for him." I said, shaking my head with a sigh as I sat behind my desk, handing Sam the files out of the drawers so that he could pack them.

"He doesn't have a Russian accent, though. Do you think he's from Russia?"

"I know little about Alexander, not from lack of want. It is as you've said. He has friends and connections that none of us knew of. How else would he have new identification? The license he held was established only months ago."

"Can I ask, why did you choose Chicago to be our next home?" Sam asked as he sat in the chair across from me, dialing Bartholomew's number, watching me as we waited for him to answer.

"I have never been to Chicago, but I believe living nearby an elder would be best, and seeing as how Bartholomew is the only elder I trust, he is the only one I will live nearby," I said with a sigh, leaning back in my seat as the call was sent to the answering machine.

"I take offense to that, Lucifer, as I am an elder as well." Sam gasped, putting his hand over his heart, his blue eyes widening in a feigned reaction of horror.

"You know full and well that you are the exception to that, Alastair," I responded with a roll of my eyes as I redialed Bartholomew's number, groaning as the answering machine picked it up once more. "Since we are going to a new town, we need to stop using our birth names. From this point on, you must call me Damien, and I must call you Sam."