Demon Angel

Selah, perhaps; Lilith didn't know her scent well enough to be certain.
    Rushing through traffic, glancing off bumpers and rebounding with a few choice curses, she made it across the city to Fisherman's Wharf within minutes. The area was lousy with tourists; she'd be safe among them.
    It was the second time in twenty-four hours that she'd had to flee for her life; normally, she'd have been upset by the repeated humiliation. Instead, she strolled through Pier 39, grinning like an idiot.
    Their reunion had gone well, until she'd had to call Hugh a spineless worm.
    A stiff breeze skimmed across the pier, carrying voices and a mixture of aromas. She singled out an oily, musky thread, and followed it to the northwest end of the dock. A crowd always gathered near the sea lions that sunned themselves on the boat docks. If she mingled long enough, she could determine whether the Guardians had followed her; if they had, the strong odor of the sea lions might mask her scent, and provide enough confusion to enable another escape.
    She couldn't feel Michael or Selah now, but she hadn't expected to; Michael was particularly adept at blocking psychic probes, and Hugh had been Selah's mentor. He'd have taught her well.
    Too well, she thought with a touch of self-disgust. Lilith hadn't known the Guardians were near until she'd scented them the usual way: with her nose. Until that moment, she'd been stupidly unaware of everything except Hugh; she'd been swimming in his flavor, intoxicated by the brief taste she'd had of him.
    Her lips held the tang of sea and fish now, but she rubbed her tongue against the roof of her mouth, savoring the memory of their kiss, trying to recapture the sensation. She'd never before noticed that humans smelled and tasted alive in a way immortals could not; when Hugh had been a Guardian his body had been sterile. Today, she'd perceived the routine of life on his lips: the bitterness of coffee, the warmth of cinnamon toothpaste, the bite of pepper and tomato.
    She'd decided she would kiss him again and soon. But first, she'd had to pretend—for the Guardians' sake—that her interest in him had vanished. If they knew how he affected her, they'd be at an advantage, and expect her to approach him again. It did not fit her plans to show up at Hugh's house only to find Michael and Selah waiting for her.
    Better to let them think she found him revolting. Michael could easily look into Hugh's mind and find the same fear she had, and verify the reason behind her apparent disgust.
    The number of people watching the sea lions had dwindled, so Lilith joined a group of retirees on their way to a restaurant. Conscious of her dark and formal suit amongst the plethora of pastel knit shirts and khaki shorts, she smiled brightly at a grandmother and inwardly cursed Lucifer. Once, she could have looked as matronly as any of them and shifted into different clothing with barely a thought.
    With a short laugh, she forced her shame and embarrassment away; neither emotion was useful, and limited her as much as her missing powers did.
    Strange, that someone like Hugh harbored doubts about his worth, but the fear had been real and lurking at the edge of his thoughts like a sharp-toothed eel. He had probably been able to feel its presence, but it would have slipped away if he attempted to see or name it. Her experience had allowed her to simply catch hold of it and drag it to the surface—but she'd been surprised when she'd felt the shape and heft of it.
    She couldn't determine if the fear was recent, or if he'd managed to hide it when he'd been a Guardian. If it was new, then what had Hugh become in the past sixteen years to give him such doubts? Was it just a fear—or an unconscious acknowledgment of truth?
    Either way, if— when —Lucifer decided it was time for Lilith to fulfill her bargain, she could easily manipulate it, make it grow and fester like a cancer.
    Her stomach was heavy and throat tight when she broke away from the retirees and darted through the restaurant kitchen. She found the exit, joined a small party of teenagers leaving the pier, and waited with them for the bus. Squeezed in among tourists and commuters, she determinedly forced thoughts of Hugh from her mind.
    Bad enough that Guardians might sense her vulnerability— disastrous if another demon did.
    By the time she entered the federal building and passed through the security check, her psychic defenses were tight, impenetrable. Even so, she was