Demon Angel

cold eyes. "You will try." Stepping aside, he opened the tomb.
    Her brows drew together; Selah was not inside. Nor was Lilith's target. There was only one entrance, and they'd stood in front of it. "What kind of trick is this?"
    "No trick," Hugh said softly. "We leave such methods to you. We will both be protecting him, Lilith—and we will convince him to go. His mother does not believe she owns herself; once we persuade her of that and she acknowledges her free will, we shall take them both to the North."
    "So he will flee, and his abuser shall never pay… and you will let him be used in the meantime?"
    "It is unfortunate, but aye. I must."
    " 'Unfortunate'?" Hilarity rolled from her, high-pitched and wild. "Just as losing an eye is unfortunate?"
    "For a Guardian, losing an eye is nothing at all. It regenerates."
    She searched for any humor accompanying the statement, and found none. It did not surprise her; she had not heard him laugh for two hundred years.
    Hers had become increasingly desperate.
    Her amusement faded; a strange lethargy took its place. She could not even make the effort to fly—she perched on a nearby tomb, and watched him walk away. It was hard not to admire his form; even in that endlessly youthful body, he had powerful shoulders and a strong back.
    She should have stabbed him through it.
    London, England
    October 1945
    Despite the early morning sun, London lay drab and tattered, like an old woman abed in a ragged dark cloak. The wartime blackout had ended; electricity hadn't yet been restored to this part of the city, but still the mortar-pocked townhouse was closed and shuttered.
    Hugh was not surprised; the vampire inside didn't need the light. The front door opened easily—the lock had been broken. The rooms were bare but for the cracking plaster, rubble and dust. A broken portrait frame lay empty near the fireplace in the front parlor; the marble mantel had been removed.
    A tortured moan drifted down the stairwell, ripe with pain— and human. A wet, wheezing cough followed it. The scent of blood permeated the air: the human's, and the rich, heavy odor of a vampire's.
    Colin's.
    Hugh frowned as he moved toward the stairs, automatically transforming the suit he'd worn on the street into his woolen robe. The vampire had never managed to create more of his kind; each attempt had ended in death. Did Colin try again?
    The risers screeched under his weight; the carpets had been ripped away, the wood left to dry. As if disturbed by the sound, a shower of debris rained down from the vaulted ceiling.
    Hugh froze; the building had been damaged, but it was not so shoddily constructed. His sword appeared in his hand. "You promised you would not kill him," he said softly.
    Lilith dropped from above; the banister splintered beneath her boots, but did not collapse. Her wings snapped wide. "This house reeks of sickness and blood," she hissed. Her weapon glinted at her thigh. "I tire of both."
    So did Hugh. "Then you ought not to be here; if you have sought me in hopes of finding relief from them, you must be disappointed." He turned, continued on to the next step.
    Her sword pressed against his throat; he knocked it away with a dismissive swipe of his blade.
    The psychic blaze of anger hit him before she did. His steel shattered under the force of her blow. Hugh called in a second sword, blocked a thrust that would have torn through his heart. He spun; his heel slammed into her jaw.
    Lilith crashed through the banister; the foyer wall crumpled around the shape of her body before she slid to the floor. Blood streamed over her chin, splattered at her feet along with a small chunk of flesh.
    She'd bitten through her tongue.
    His gut roiling, Hugh watched her spit into her hand, her body heaving, and waited for her second attack. It didn't come. She stared up at him, her narrowed gaze radiating crimson heat.
    Then her attention shifted, moved past his shoulder. Surprise etched a line between her brows.
    "How marvelous! A demon is struck dumb by my countenance," Colin said. The vampire stood at the head of the stairs; his slim sword gleamed as sharply as his smile. "How fortunate that you do not need a tongue to appreciate it." He glanced at Hugh; his mouth dropped open in exaggerated shock. "Good God, now I am speechless. I daresay that robe is a greater sin than any she could imagine."
    "I rather doubt it," Hugh said. His face was without expression as he took in the vampire's appearance; the dark suit