Demon Angel

him. Hugh had been right in that.
    He closed his eyes, and his chest rose and fell on a heavy sigh. "Yes. I would have."
    It was not the answer she'd expected. She felt him watch her as she walked to the door. Her hand on the knob, she turned— and gave him a little bit of what he'd given her. "It worked. Those two hours, before Lucifer found me—I don't know if it was Heaven, or Oblivion, or something else… but it was two hours of freedom. Two hours without Hell clawing at my back." And reason enough to risk Lucifer's anger now; she owed Hugh freedom, even if it was only an earthly freedom that kept him from being imprisoned on false charges.
    His eyes glistened, and she had to look away.
    "Is this why bargains no longer have any allure? Why you've changed?"
    "Have I?" A smile pulled at her mouth. "If I have, it might just be when I'm around you. You are a corrupting influence, to be certain. Soon I'll be good !" She shuddered facetiously.
    He gave a choked laugh. "Perhaps you should be with me more often. Complete your bargain, Lilith—only spend a hundred years in the doing. Torment me for decades. After all that time, old and decrepit, I will finally give in to you, and in the interim you will discover how corrupting I can be."
    "Don't tempt me, Hugh." Her eyes glowed in warning. "It would take very little persuasion for me to do just that—and it would be a torment."
    "For me?" He shook his head.
    Her smile was pure bravado. She opened the door and paused. Looked at the desk. "How many?"
    His cheeks colored slightly, and he ran his fingers through his hair. "None." Her brows rose, and their gazes locked. "Ever."
    The air left her lungs in a rush, and she sagged against the doorframe. "Why?" She stared at him; what was wrong with women, that they hadn't taken him? Or had they tried and been rebuffed?
    His eyes were shadowed. "When I first Fell, I was too…"
    "Fucked up?" she offered.
    "Yes." His voice was grim. "An eight-hundred-year-old Guardian transformed back into a human teenager. And later, it seemed dishonest to be with a woman—truly be with her— when I couldn't divulge my history, and any developing love would be based on lies. I'm not designed for casual sex simply to relieve my frustration; I don't think there is any sin in it, I just cannot do it."
    "And when you were a Guardian? I thought it was a love-fest in Caelum." So different from Hell, where lust and physical pleasure were forbidden to halflings—and impossible for demons to feel.
    His mouth quirked into a smile. "For many. But I served, at first, with religious—and celibate—fervor. Later, many of the Guardians were those I'd mentored. They were students, and it was… awkward."
    "But there were those you hadn't mentored, and after a while those you trained would be—" She broke off as she realized the truth. "And there was me."
    "Aye." He didn't look away. "I spent so much time resisting you, I could not be certain that I would not think of you when I was with another. So I was not with any others."
    Crazy chivalrous martyr. She ignored the melting warmth that stole through her. "Are you offering yourself up as a virgin sacrifice then? You think that will be enough, that you'll have the skill to tempt me? You don't have a prayer."
    His gaze raked over her form, heated and intense. "I don't need prayer—I have eight hundred years of imagining what I would do to you."
    "I will use that against you as well," she said, breathless.
    He grinned suddenly. "And that is something worth praying for."
    Lilith heard ASAC Bradshaw coming, but had nowhere to hide. She'd claimed desk space in one of the empty cubicles in the guts of the department office, and she was hemmed in by a wall and the gaze of the rookie in the cube across the aisle who hadn't taken his eyes from her since she'd returned from San Francisco State. For a moment, she considered going through the rookie to make her escape; he'd been stuck with background checks for the past couple of days, droning away on the telephone. He was probably ready to put a gun to his head. A visit to the hospital and an exciting tale of a crazy demon would have been doing him a favor.
    She looked up and sighed. No escape there, either. The ceiling panels would never hold her weight.
    "Agent Milton." He held a package in his hands, his dark skin in sharp contrast to the thick white envelope.
    The SFPD shield decorated the upper left corner. Preston had been quick; too bad Bradshaw had