Demon Angel

Hugh's protectiveness toward her, but he'd wisely decided not to test it.
    "Where's Michael now?" Hugh said when Lilith had finished.
    Bradshaw's brows drew together. "Your house." When they looked at him blankly, he said, "Selah came back, and Michael managed to go get the vampire."
    Startled, Lilith met Hugh's gaze, saw the same relief and surprise reflected there. "Let's go."
    Bradshaw's sigh caught them halfway to the door. "What am I to do with this?"
    Lilith turned. "Spin it. You have the case files." She did a poor job of concealing her enjoyment when his jaw clenched.
    After ten years of trying to expose her lies, he needed her to create more. This was difficult for him; she wasn't going to make it any easier.
    "Lilith," Hugh said quietly. She arched a brow at him, and relented when he said, "Take pity."
    It was only fair, she supposed; they had created the mess. She glanced at Beelzebub, slid pieces together, rearranged them. Bradshaw's abilities were going to make this much simpler than if she and Hugh had only themselves to rely on. "I suppose you don't want anyone to know you are a Guardian?"
    "No."
    Of course not, Lilith thought; the fewer who knew the better. A psychic mask was useless if a demon could pick the truth from another Guardian's—or human's—mind. "First, you are going to shift into Smith's form and walk us to the elevator. Then, as Smith, you'll put in for emergency family leave, transferring his cases to yourself, particularly the investigations involving the nosferatu." She nodded to herself, thinking it over. They had intended to use Beelzebub as the evidence Taylor and Preston had been looking for, knowing it wouldn't completely exonerate Hugh, but it would at least give more credence to his story—and though they'd have to keep it quiet it would allow the two detectives more maneuvering ability. Lilith didn't like the idea of all of the responsibility falling on the Guardians, via Bradshaw, just as it would have been the demons' when Beelzebub had taken over the case. "You're friends with Captain Jorgenson, Ingleside? Get his two detectives working with you; call them tomorrow morning, when you've got the files on your desk. They're going to come in with two nosferatu. Dead, of course."
    "From the lake?" Hugh said.
    Lilith nodded. "I'll give them an anonymous tip tonight. When I dumped them, I hadn't realized they wouldn't disintegrate in the sun. But it was after the first ritual, so they'd have resistance; they're likely still there." She saw the doubt on Bradshaw's face and frowned. "They already know a lot of it, and they aren't going to run around screaming about demons and vampires. It'll stay quiet if you make certain it stays that way. Run with the cult angle as in the letter. Keep your team busy tracking down phantom leads: hardcore Goth clubs, the missing bodies, linguists to explain the symbols and whatever shows up after the autopsy of the nosferatu, like body modification. Let the detectives go after us; we won't hide much from them, except your part in it, but I doubt they'll even mention to you the possibility that any of this is nonhuman; they'll be content, for the moment, just having access to the case again. But if they do, pretend to be skeptical until you get irrefutable evidence."
    Bradshaw nodded slowly. "What will that be?"
    Lilith shrugged, her heart suddenly heavy. "In about two days, you'll know. Keep Beelzebub's body in your cache until then. The blood, too." Sir Pup didn't have the precision to vanish something as amorphous as blood without destroying the carpet or leaving trace evidence behind, but a Guardian would.
    "And what about you?"
    She blinked, and an ironic smile curved her lips. "You finally get to suspend me, pending investigation of the stolen books and weapons found in my apartment." She slid her badge from inside her jacket, tossed it to him.
    He reverently smoothed his thumb over the gleaming shield. "No spin on this?"
    She shook her head. It was all I had was not a defense, and it wasn't worth the effort to create one. More important to concentrate on the last thing she had, the only thing that mattered.
    She slid her hand into Hugh's. "Let's go," she said.
    Darkness had fallen by the time they made it through the rush-hour traffic. As they turned from Sunset Boulevard and neared Hugh's neighborhood, Sir Pup began running close to the motorcycle; she could hear his uneasy growls over the smooth rumble of the engine. She tightened her