Demon Angel

cleansing, the lack of emotion: impossible not to recognize it. There was no need for a demon to bathe. She was going through a ritual, purging herself. For what purpose?
    "Why are you dressing like that?"
    She froze, then glanced at him from under her lashes. "You prefer me unclothed?"
    "I wonder why I haven't yet seen you in any form other than Lily and the demon. I wonder why you wear real clothing, when you can create it with a thought. I wonder how it is that I surprised you in your home, and why you sent Colin to the restaurant instead of going yourself—in any guise. You enjoy those powers, revel in them."
    He nearly took back his words as she glanced down at herself, and shame flickered across her features, erasing her amusement and leaving a blank, remote expression.
    "Lucifer claims it is an effect of the blood loss and the subsequent resurrection," she said without emotion. "But I know a Punishment when I'm subjected to one."
    "He has taken your ability to shift?"
    "Except for my full demon form, and those in between. And to send dreams. A few other minor abilities, too."
    Lucifer had that kind of power? "This is why the symbols are missing," he realized. "Why give you the form you use now?"
    "To remind me that I subjected my will to his when he transformed me." Turning toward him, she swept back the wet curls that had fallen onto her forehead. "And to punish me for my long-ago vanity, I imagine. One of his promises was that I would never age, that my beauty would never succumb to time."
    "Then he denied it," Hugh realized, following her to the table and laying his sword down. And when Lucifer allowed Lilith her own face, it was not a reward, but a constant reminder of the choice she'd made. There had been many times Hugh had taken on the face of another, but he'd always been able to return to his true form.
    "I often work undercover. More difficult to remain unnoticed with this face, with the same face each day. He relishes that difficulty," she said, but with that awful, uncharacteristic detachment.
    Hugh studied her, looking for any emotion, and found none.
    "Lilith," he hesitated, then lifted his hand to her jaw. "Are you well? What has happened?"
    A shudder wracked her body. She pressed her cheek into his palm, then wrapped her fingers around his wrist and dragged his hand from her face. "Do not be kind to me," she said from between clenched teeth, her eyes glowing brightly. "You will destroy me with it."
    Though her statement felt like a blow to his chest, he said, "If it brings you pleasure, I shall do my worst."
    Her grip tightened, but the pain of it was nothing to the smile that tilted the corners of her lips. With a sigh, she released him. "I heard you come in; I was surprised by the sword. I did not think your babysitters would allow you to carry one around the city."
    "They don't know," he said. "I left through the back of the restaurant." He'd taken the opportunity the detectives' precipitate leaving had given him; their surveillance team had not yet arrived when Hugh had slipped out. Savi and Auntie would likely be upset with him, but it seemed the only time to search Lilith's apartment.
    An unexpected boon, that she was still here.
    "At night?" She shook her head; the smile had not yet faded. "You couldn't have waited until the nosferatu…" Trailing off, she regarded him with narrowed eyes. "Have you ever heard of a nosferatu resistant to the daysleep? Or daylight ?"
    "No. And the only vampire is—"
    "Colin, I know. I don't know why or how he is, though. And no matter how I threaten him, he won't tell me."
    Hugh knew, and he had no reason not to tell her now. "Michael's sword tainted Colin's blood when he was human. You remarked once on his sister's resistance to your suggestions; she came by it the same way: the sword."
    "The spoiled little slut," Lilith said absently, as if her mind was working through something else. Hugh suppressed his grin.
    "You saw a nosferatu during the day?"
    She nodded, and her mouth thinned into a grim line. "Perhaps they used the underground parking structure to escape the sunlight, but they were awake."
    He searched her face, caught the lingering fear that crossed her features. "How many?"
    She held his gaze. "Five. And one was in a human's form. He had your student's scent."
    "Ian?" His breath stilled, and his hands trembled as rage tore through him. Though she must have felt it, he kept his voice even. He would not make her a target for his anger. "The