Trust Lucifer to not give her a scathing scolding. The stark difference between him and Michael come to mind, so she can't help but think just—how Michael might react (for he will notice, too, won't he?).

She tries not to worry about that right now. As things are, Lucifer isn't dropping this point of conversation, even if he's acting like he wishes to put more attention elsewhere.

If there is surprise in her features for the way he seems somewhat concerned for her, he'll completely miss it in lieu of glancing away.

Wanda holds onto her wrist, the one he had held fast to seconds prior.

"I made a pact with an Old God," she mutters, not at wanting to keep it secret, but intensely aware of how, if nothing else, this might incur 'judgement'. "A patron of dark blessings."

Didn't she want to escape a demon's influence, before? Oh, well.