Demon Angel

her knee, and she leaned down to scratch his ears, frowning. The hellhound hadn't known, either—he was supposed to have given warning if anyone came to the door, but he hadn't sensed Bradshaw's approach.
    "It's your Gift," she realized aloud. "A perfect psychic mask, so that you can pass as human." And like Selah's teleporting, the Guardians had hidden knowledge of the ability from demons, the better to use it to their advantage—and safety. Michael wouldn't place one of his Guardians in such a dangerous position unless Bradshaw had some protection. If he hadn't been able to pass as human, Beelzebub would have had him killed.
    Bradshaw gave a short nod.
    "And the others with the same Gift? All in subordinate positions to Lucifer's demons?" Though humiliating for her, it cheered her to think others remained unaware of the Guardians in their midst.
    "There are very few others," Hugh said quietly. "It's a rare Gift."
    An edge of resignation in his voice; he was pleased that Michael had managed to counteract the demons' foray into human society, but frustrated by the limitations of it.
    Bradshaw frowned slightly. "How did you know? I never took this form in Caelum, and you weren't my mentor."
    Hugh's brows drew together, and his gaze unfocused, as if he were remembering and thinking about it. "You didn't have any involuntary reactions when Lilith lifted you: no breathing change, no pupil dilation, no muscle reflex. You were prepared for Beelzebub—and prepared not to react. It was the response of someone who'd trained himself to stifle human impulse, but it takes decades of practice to reach that level of mastery over your body."
    Lilith snorted with laughter. "As you well know."
    He smiled, and his gaze heated as it skimmed her length. "I do." Then he shrugged, and glanced at Bradshaw again. "You overcompensate for your Guardian reflexes; fortunately, most demons are arrogant and self-absorbed, so they probably won't notice."
    Lilith scowled. Arrogant and self-absorbed? She wasn't the one showing off and conducting an impromptu fool-the-demon lesson. "Thank you, Professor," she said, and his lips pressed together as if he were holding back his laughter. "Where are the nosferatu hiding?"
    Bradshaw ran his palm over his bald head, as if uncomfortable. He shot a glance at Hugh. "You've found out more from Beelzebub in half an hour than I've been able to glean in years. We've concentrated our efforts since the nosferatu came into the city, but even Michael didn't know most of this."
    Lilith's eyes narrowed. "Does Michael know where the nest is?" When Bradshaw nodded, she flashed a broad smile. "He's keeping it secret; he's concerned that if Hugh finds out, he will do something absurd." As well he should; if Bradshaw had known and refused to tell them, he'd likely be stretched out next to Beelzebub.
    Bradshaw nodded again.
    Hugh arched a brow, looked pointedly to the floor. "More absurd than ambushing a demon in a building filled with armed federal agents?"
    His blue eyes were filled with amusement, and it was difficult to maintain her own sobriety. Difficult to keep her heart from her throat, from launching herself into his arms. Did he know how it affected her, his ability to shed insult, to laugh at himself so easily? "Rushing into a nosferatu nest is much more absurd than this," Lilith said. "The nosferatu can kill you."
    "So could have anyone outside this office, if he'd managed to escape us and raise the hue and cry."
    Lilith grinned. "The hue and cry?"
    "I would have shot you," Bradshaw offered. Every trace of mirth fled from Hugh's features, and Lilith placed her hand on his forearm. His muscles were like steel beneath her fingers. Bradshaw noted the exchange with a widening of his eyes, then added with a grimace, "On second thought, I couldn't have. Why are you human?"
    "So that I can kill Hugh," Lilith said, waiting until Hugh met her eyes. Animosity between Guardians and demons—even a Fallen demon—was to be expected; it wouldn't disappear simply because he loved her. When she felt the tension ease from him, she turned to Bradshaw. "There's more Michael isn't telling you." Michael couldn't tell him; the stipulations of the wager forbade it—but they didn't forbid Lilith.
    It didn't take long to outline the terms of the wager, and though it was obvious Bradshaw thought Lilith's soul wasn't worth the loss of Caelum and Hugh's life, he didn't say it aloud. Smart man, Lilith mused—he may not understand