Demon Angel

them.
    "Aside from the DemonSlayer games at Auntie's, do you know anything of Mr. Rafferty's activities?"
    Hugh returned his attention to Detective Taylor. "He played football in the fall, I think. His papers often used analogies comparing the sport to devices in literature."
    Preston gave a bark of laughter, which he quickly smothered.
    Hugh allowed himself a smile. "It could be tedious reading at times."
    "As tedious as your book?" Taylor said sweetly.
    His smile faded. "No." Behind the detectives, Lilith's eyes shone furiously crimson. He frowned at her, and as if remembering herself, she visibly regained control. "I don't know much beyond the football. I imagine Courtney Eliot would."
    "His girlfriend," Preston said, and Hugh nodded. "So during those game nights, he never talked about clubs they might have frequented? Any type of music he liked?"
    "If he did, I don't recall mention of it."
    "Do any of the other students who meet talk about a specific hangout, a place they got together?"
    Hugh shook his head. "I don't recall any," he said truthfully. "I'm often at the restaurant, but I'm not active in the game itself, so I'm not privy to many of the conversations that take place while they play." He checked the clock over the door. "They'll be meeting tonight, at eight. If any attend, that is; I imagine most of them have heard about Ian by now."
    Even as he said it, he knew that many of them would be there. It was human nature to gather and grieve, sharing their memories of the life they'd known.
    And often dangerous to grieve in solitude. He knew that well.
    He didn't dare look at Lilith for the ache in his chest. If she was trying to read him, she would feel it. Would she think it was for Ian?
    "Are you familiar with a club called Polidori's? Have you ever heard any of your students mention it?"
    Startled, his gaze locked with Lilith's, and he suddenly understood. She'd somehow pointed them in the direction of Polidori's, suggesting a link between it, the nosferatu, and Ian's murder. And, because of the book bearing her name and its contents, it made him the primary suspect, solidifying the detectives' suspicion that he'd been involved.
    "No," he said flatly. Lilith looked away, her jaw flexing as if she wanted to speak but could not.
    His hands clenched in his pockets. A moment alone. Then she was going to talk. If he did it well, didn't hold back, she was going to scream.
    "He's smart," Taylor said. She unlocked the sedan's door, then looked across the blue metal roof at her partner and Lilith. "And he knows it. I expected that his arrogance would lead him into a mistake, that he'd claim to have some knowledge and show off, but he gave us a neat runaround."
    "Smug bastard," Preston agreed. "What was your impression, Agent Milton?"
    Her lips tilted slightly. The look Hugh had given her as they'd left had created the most significant impression; she could still feel the arousal the heated glance had stirred within her.
    She didn't know what he was thinking, and she didn't like how eager she was to find out.
    But as she couldn't tell them that, she gave them an answer by rote. "I think he knows we're on to him; you should continue surveillance, see if he tries to cover any tracks he might have left. If nothing else, he'll be wondering what we didn't say, and he'll want to determine if he's left any evidence, or if someone connected to him has revealed more than they should have." She paused. "If he's our man."
    "You don't think he knows something?" Preston raised a brow.
    "Knowing is not the same as perpetrating," Lilith said.
    Taylor smiled thinly. "But it might make him an accessory. He's our strongest lead, Agent Milton, but don't think we aren't investigating every possible avenue."
    Lilith heard the territorial note in the other woman's voice and couldn't care less. She had her own territory to protect; it made no difference hers was not a case, but a man. "She's not suggesting we aren't doing our job, Andy." Knowing she was going to piss them both off, Lilith said with a shrug, "Maybe I am." She had to force away the regret that rose when Preston's expression cooled and Taylor's hardened. "That book you showed me was not written by a man congratulating himself on his mental prowess. ' The demon from Hell itself, burning and terrible, speaks with fearsome intonation, "No recourse will you find, no escape from my horrific clutching. All your souls are belong to us,'" " she quoted, shaking her head. "It's