Demon Angel

documents."
    Frowning, she said, "I have."
    "Difficult to pass as a human for two hundred years without mastering it," he amended with a smile. Then he said, slightly horrified, "What are you doing?"
    She quickly unlaced her corset, let it drop to the floor. With barely a thought, she stripped off her glamours, stood before him naked from the waist up.
    His gaze was riveted on her shoulders. "What are those?"
    She didn't glance down at her arms, her chest. As plans went, it wasn't a very good one. A distraction, really, and an opportunity to use the little power she owned in this human world.
    "A way to make life a bit more interesting for the SFPD," she said.
    At six, Hugh left Savi sleeping on the sofa, snoring into a pillow she'd brought from her room.
    And ran.
    An hour before, two officers had relieved the pair who'd sat through the night. If Hugh had been less tired, if the memory of Lilith's stricken face and Savi's red-rimmed eyes had been less immediate, he might have taken pity on them.
    It was petty and unsatisfying, but still he veered away from the roadway circling through the park, where the cruiser had followed him at a discreet distance. Smiled as he heard the car doors slam, and the pounding of stiff-soled shoes on the wet grass. The officers were young and athletic, but couldn't possibly keep up with him.
    Rose and gold streaked the lightening sky, the chilled air was heavy with the odors of the lakes, birds filled the park with their chirping; Hugh kept his eyes on the ground in front of him and pushed himself hard. Twice he had to stop and run in place, waiting for the officers to draw close enough to stay within sight—no sense in taking his pettiness to a degree that seemed evasive— but it was several miles before he noticed the dog.
    He loped along about fifteen yards to Hugh's left, keeping pace without effort. Though shaped like a domesticated breed, he was as large as the wolves that had once roamed the medieval forests. San Francisco had strict leash laws and he wore no collar, but he looked too healthy and well-fed to be a stray. Sleek black fur covered rippling muscles, and his eyes shone brightly in the pale morning light.
    Perhaps too brightly. Uneasily, Hugh cast another glance to the side; the dog turned his head and seemed to grin.
    Colin had said a dog was protecting him. Hugh had thought it a joke, but now he wasn't certain.
    Hugh eased down to a jog, and the length of the dog's stride shifted. Then, as if his legs were too long for such a slow gait, he transformed until he was only a few inches taller than the average retriever.
    Hugh stopped beside a tree and braced his hand against the trunk, then doubled over and laughed until his stomach ached.
    Eventually, a quiet growl brought him to his senses. The short hairs on the back of the dog's neck were raised, and his gaze was fixed on the approaching officers.
    "They're no threat," Hugh murmured, and he wasn't surprised when the dog relaxed, lying down with his muzzle on his front paws. "Are you Colin's?"
    The dog shook his head, his ears flapping wildly.
    "Lilith's."
    Canine lips stretched back, as if in another grin.
    "Everything all right, Castleford?"
    Both men were flushed and winded, but neither showed any signs of temper. The younger one, Hugh judged, couldn't have been more than a year or two older than Savi.
    "Everything's fine," he said. "Just a stitch. I'll take it easier on the way back."
    The older one sighed with relief. "We'd be grateful."
    "We'd also be grateful if you ran by a coffee shop on the way back," the other added with a grin. "We weren't expecting a morning run, and we'd like to refuel."
    Hugh nodded absently and glanced at the ground where the dog had been. It was gone—or hidden.
    A hellhound. He'd never seen one before, but what else could it be? They were rumored to be nearly uncontrollable, feared by demons and nosferatu.
    Yet somehow Lilith had befriended this thing. And despite her declaration that she was determined to fulfill her bargain with Lucifer, she'd sent it to watch over him.
    This time as he ran, he let himself remember their conversation from the night before instead of using the exercise to drive every thought from his head.
    She'd been human once.
    Why hadn't he seen it before? His gut burned, but he forced himself to keep a steady pace instead of trying to outrun the pain his ignorance—and now knowledge—brought. How easily he'd dismissed the humanity he'd seen within her, so