Demon Angel

tracing the line of his jaw, her thumb smoothing over the planes of his face. "You have never failed me, though I have failed you many times. I have always been waiting: for you to give me my freedom, for you to save me. And you gave me freedom in the only way you could, though it was Hell for you. You had no other options— but I might have, had I ever looked. The cowardice was mine. I was not strong enough, nor brave enough. Yet you always were."
    His throat closed and he shook his head. Her fingers were warm against his lips, denying his protest.
    "I have given you little reason to trust me, little evidence of my worth, but I need you to trust me in this. I will let you do what you must to save me—but you must let me save you in turn."
    He studied her face, trying to read the mixture of emotions there. "What must I do?"
    "Look away. When I am about to cut into your heart, look away."
    It was the same thing Mandeville had asked of him—but Lilith did not need that kindness, would never ask it for herself.
    But what difference could his seeing her make?
    His lips parted as the truth struck him, and his laughter rang through the room. She was going to lie. And she did not want him to give her away; he would be weak from blood loss, his psychic blocks almost useless.
    A demure smile curved her mouth. "I'm simply doing what my father wanted."
    She found Sir Pup at the threshold to the living room, his muzzles pointed toward the ceiling. A touch on his shoulder and the chorus ended.
    On the sofa, Detective Taylor pulled her fingers from her ears and sighed with relief.
    "You verified that they've been taken?"
    "Yes," Preston said from the entrance to the kitchen, a soda in his hand. His face was haggard, drawn. The investigation had taken its toll on him—or perhaps it was just the past few hours.
    "You know what to do?" Easier to include them than to fight them. Hopefully, Michael or Hugh had outlined their course very clearly.
    Preston nodded. "Once they release the four, we take them and get them to safety." The nosferatu would be focused on the blood, and any demons wouldn't be able to interfere with the detectives' will to leave.
    "Good," Lilith said and turned to find Michael.
    "Agent Milton!" Taylor was on her feet now, her lips pressed tight. "It's not good. We know what you intend to do to Castleford, and we can't allow—"
    "I'm allowing it," Hugh said, brushing past Lilith's shoulder. A small touch, but not accidental. Warmth spread over her skin.
    "We don't care if it's murder or suicide," Taylor said. "If she tries to go through with it, we are obligated to stop her."
    Hugh leaned against the doorjamb, smiled lazily. Heat raced up her spine. "You could come back after you've gotten the boys away. Risk the nosferatu and shoot her before she cuts out my heart." They likely didn't recognize the dangerous glint in his eyes; Lilith did, and a melting awareness pooled low in her belly. He glanced at her, and she realized he'd been trying to distract her with sex. That was her trick, dammit. "I think we've a problem; Michael showed them what he was, they've seen Selah and Colin, but they don't yet realize the danger from the nosferatu."
    She frowned. Remembered that Taylor had already been convinced of their existence, but that her partner had doubted. Her gaze shifted to Preston. "You believed because you saw Michael ?" What was it with men, persuaded by that warrior-angel display?
    The older man flushed. "Hard to refute."
    Taylor shook her head. "And you may have once been a demon, but it doesn't change that you intend to kill a man. We don't understand a lot of the forces at work here, but I don't care whose law you think you are following. In this you'll follow ours."
    Hugh began to speak, but Lilith said sharply, "Then arrest me afterward—no, I'll walk into the station and give myself up. We're the only access you have to those boys, and Hugh is the only way we have of saving them. This ritual is the only hold we have over the nosferatu now, the only reason they aren't slaughtering humans all over the city. You think these things are just serial killers, some creatures who get their kicks by slashing up a couple of humans? You think Selah and Michael are just pretty angels with wings and swords? You think my hellhound is just a freak three-headed dog? Show them your mean face, Sir Pup."
    He shifted, taller than her shoulder. Spikes tore through his fur, scales rippled the length of his belly.