Lucifer scowls at Istredd's back. He knows it isn't even the link screwing him over like he thought it might one day. Istredd knows him well enough physically to read the lines of deceit. It's one of those reminders, the one that constantly hounds him, asking the angel: is it worth it to be so known.

He swats away at it like a fly.

Congrats, Lucifer says, a little too sharp, you remembered the lesson even through your anxiety.

Hadn't he also wondered how capable he was at playing Istredd? Just what he would do?

But the mention of Geralt side-swipes him in a way he didn't expect and it's one thing being pit buddies, like Castiel, but it's another thing for them being from the same world, and that's just something else he knows is coming back to bite him, doesn't that just figure?

He also tried to kill me, he says airily. Twice. He waves a hand. Got a good taste out of each other in the Horizon; you two should compare notes on my blood. That was before I put my arm through his chest.

The other part of Lucifer's particular attitude that he didn't discuss with Istredd back in the bookstore is that he's recognized a tendency to, well, self-destruct. Istredd's been on the receiving end of that enough but it has been awhile and maybe the smartest thing for Istredd to do is just walk away for the moment.