Demon Angel

human."
    Laughing, Hugh said, "Then don't let her know you refused to go to Caelum. She'll send you in pieces, if she must."
    He sobered suddenly, and slid his hands into his pockets. Caelum. One of the few things she'd dreamed of, forever denied her. Lilith should have been there, instead of risking all for a bargain she'd had little choice in making.
    He met the vampire's gaze. "See it well, Colin. And bring it back to her."
    "You can't have the sword." Michael didn't glance up from the Scrolls spread out on the floor.
    Lilith pursed her lips. "That's not why I came in here." The Doyen slanted her a glance, and she amended, "Not completely." You have his blood ?
    He sat back on his heels, studied her carefully. "Yes."
    I need you to keep him alive with it.
    You're human. If you are the one to cut him, I can't heal him.
    She waved that off. That is not what I ask. After the cups have been filled, I want you to keep him alive by returning his blood to him. I just need extra time .
    His eyes narrowed as he considered it, then he shook his head. It cannot be done .
    It can be done. You are a Healer. Others are limited by their focus, their inability to take their perception down to that level. There is space within for you to place the blood.
    Again he considered it; he wanted to save Hugh almost as badly as she did, despite the dangers to himself. Possession, will, and the integrity of the object—all necessary for calling items from a cache, or vanishing them. Demons, nosferatu, and most Guardians couldn't psychically move beyond the integrity of the whole body, or weapon; Healers could. But he would have to transfer the cells singly: tiny, precise transfusions into Hugh's continually flowing bloodstream.
    His mouth firmed. It would take the focus of a transformation. I couldn't protect you, nor defend myself .
    That was what she needed. Not just to keep Hugh alive, but to have Michael completely distracted by the process of it.
    She took a deep breath. Then you could give me the sword, so that I may protect us. I have the speed and strength necessary to respond to an attack, and I would not likely be challenged if I carried it .
    He stared down at the Scrolls for a moment, then looked up. I will attempt the transfusion, but will not give you the sword .
    Her stomach tightened into a hard knot, but she nodded. Sinking down on her heels, she touched one of the Scrolls in front of her. "This is not the Latin."
    "No." He slid a piece of notebook paper across the floor. You must carve these into his skin .
    She traced the symbols with her finger, felt the sickness rising in her throat. "Follow the blood," she said in the Old Language. His eyebrows winged upward in surprise, and she shrugged. They covered my skin for two millennia; when certain symbols disappeared, so did specific powers. And demons do not deign to speak in human languages when they are Below. I cannot read as fluently as I can speak, but I'm not as ignorant as Lucifer would like me to be .
    He did not try to take it from you?
    I hid it well. And he never expects humans to have more than limited understanding . She glanced up, found him watching her. Quickly, she changed the subject. "Why aren't there many Guardians left?"
    "An Ascension," he said quietly, still studying her.
    Her brow furrowed. "Thousands at once? Like a cult?" Her mouth fell open when he nodded. How could you lose control of them ? Why didn't you stop the Ascension ?
    His laugh startled her. "I don't control them, nor rule over them; I am not Lucifer."
    That was undeniable. She shook her head, trying to understand the structure of power in Caelum, and finally said, "I don't think I could have been a Guardian."
    She stood to the sound of his laughter and went in search of Hugh. She'd failed partially, but it was only in saving herself. Hugh might live now, and that would be worth the price she had to pay.
    And the end, as always, would come too quickly.
    "Bloody hell."
    Just like Michael to throw a vampire to the floor in the middle of a giant room and disappear. Colin rose to his knees, then thought better of standing before making certain—
    There, the girl-woman. Savitri. She stared at him with those wide brown eyes, her fingers clenched on the back of a sofa. Her body was hidden from view, as if she were kneeling on the cushion—probably she had been taking a nap when she'd heard Michael dump him.
    He must be in the Doyen's apartment; his brother-in-law had described it to him