“But...” Gillian looked from one to the other. “She can't be, Harold's only half demon and I--”
“You're nephilim.” Jasfoup picked up a brush and used it to emphasise his point. “So two nephilims make a baby and are surprised when it comes out to be a full demon? Plus, Harold's genes as son of the Archduke of Hell are pretty dominant. I could map out the genetic probabilities but you'd probably just get confused and try to divide by zero.”
“But--” Gillian seemed to deflate, her anger dissipating like so much steam from a kettle when the sun was out. “She's an angel.”
“Quite literally.” Jasfoup grinned. “Demons and angels are the same stock, you see. Just be careful she doesn't start growing extra eyes because it freaks people out. You've fought angels. You know how freaky they are. It's like coming across a cockroach in your bowl of cornflake. You know it's not going to hurt you but you still don't want to eat the cereal after killing it. If Lucy develops angel traits she'll be like that.”
“Like a cockroach in cornflakes?”
“No.” Jasfoup took her by the hand and led her to the partially crushed box of comics Harold had sat on earlier.
A copy of Strontium Dog fell out causing Harold some consternation. Why was there a Two-thousand AD comic among a box of Marvel ones? Had someone been interfering with his collection? He'd have to catalogue the whole lot now.
He looked back as Jasfoup stroked the vampire's arm in what he thought to be a soothing manner. “Weren't you listening? Lucy will be like the person who finds a cockroach in their cornflakes. You'll be the cockroach, love.”