Demon Angel
course, the nosferatu bouncing limply at her sides. She'd dump their bodies in the lake, and then return to her apartment and clean herself up.
She might find the answers she wanted at work; if anyone would know the reasons behind this infestation, it would be her boss. Her grin twisted into a snarl.
God, but she hated her day job.
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CHAPTER 10
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ASAC Bradshaw's office reflected its occupant all too well: bland and tasteless. The Assistant Special Agent in Charge of the San Francisco Division of the FBI, Bradshaw was also careful, precise, intelligent—and completely unaware that his immediate superior, SAC Smith, happened to be one of Lucifer's lieutenants.
And although Lilith suspected that Bradshaw thought her a nutcase, she knew he had no idea how far from normal she actually was.
He listened silently as she gave her account of the Oregon arrests, steepling his chocolate brown fingers as if in deep contemplation. More likely, he was trying to think of a way to take her badge. He'd quietly opposed her methods and assignments since she'd been transferred to the San Francisco office ten years ago, suspecting their legality and her reliability.
With good reason, too. Lilith didn't hesitate to manipulate evidence when the truth couldn't be proven through usual means. With demons and vampires involved, truth and lies became distorted; she created an official version that was as authentic as possible.
She doubted that Bradshaw would appreciate hearing that the head of the cult had been a rogue demon posing as a god; Lucifer had taken exception to the rogue's arrogance, and SAC Smith had given her the assignment. She'd had only to capture and take the demon to one of the Gates leading Below, but bringing down the human part of the cult legitimized Lilith's presence there.
Why Lucifer didn't just send a horde of demons in and take out the rogue, she could only guess. Perhaps he enjoyed playing according to human rules, and then bending them to his purposes; perhaps it gave him pleasure to infiltrate and act through human institutions.
And perhaps he just relished the knowledge of how much Lilith despised it.
In any case, the favoritism and leeway shown her by SAC Smith hadn't earned her any friends in the division—not that she needed or wanted any. But she would have appreciated avoiding the type of bullshit she was being forced to endure now.
Still, when Bradshaw closed the case folder and didn't run through his typical piercing questions in an attempt to locate flaws in her report, she was almost disappointed. She'd created some truly spectacular lies; it was a pity her brilliance would be wasted, accepted without a single argument.
What he said instead was better. "I don't like you, Agent Milton."
She stared at him expressionlessly a moment, delighted by the unexpected admission. How she loved it when humans were honest. "I'm sorry to hear that, sir," she said. "I shall make acquiring your respect my sole endeavor from this point forth."
In a twisted way, he already had her respect—not that she'd let him know that. His insight and determination to do right reminded her of Hugh, though Bradshaw lacked the underlying passion that had drawn her so powerfully to the knight. Bradshaw presented her a pale substitute, but it was, at times, an entertaining and challenging one.
He tapped the folder against his desktop, contemplating her wordlessly. "Just so we understand one another," he finally said and passed the file back to her.
Her smile was genuine. "I think we always have, sir." Tucking the folder beneath her arm, she stood.
"You've put in for time off this afternoon?"
She couldn't tell him that she wanted a chance to backtrack the nosferatu's trail through the park and would rather do it during the daytime. "Yes, sir. I have no current investigations, and during my absence my personal affairs—"
"It's been approved." He waved off her explanation.
Lilith snapped her mouth closed, disappointed that another lie had gone to waste.
"Thank you, sir. Good day, sir." She clapped her heels together and saluted because it amused her and left him shaking his head in disapproval.
Feeling quite jolly, she paused at the front desk, inquired after SAC Smith, and heard the same reply she'd been given all morning: he was in a meeting, and taking neither calls nor appointments.
The prick. Unfortunately, she couldn't determine the veracity of it; his office and the conference room had
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