Demon Blood

posture stopped her from saying it now.
    She shifted her clothes from the pajamas to her black pants and boots, instead. A heavy cloak formed over her dark shirt. “I am leaving you to celebrate, then. When I return, I’ll find an opportunity to wire Theriault’s apartments. If Michael has no information, perhaps we will learn more of Malkvial that way.”
    “Michael?” Gemma blinked. “You’re going to Caelum?”
    “No. I will be in San Francisco.” Where the Guardians kept a base of operations that was connected to American law enforcement. Even if Michael wasn’t at the Special Investigations warehouse, someone could find him for her. Rosalia hadn’t been to Caelum since Pasquale had died; she wasn’t ready to return now. She glanced at Vincente. “I do not know if this matters to you, but I would change the stories to include Michael’s lie.”
    He hadn’t been a man when he’d killed the dragon in the Second Battle, but a grigori, the son of a demon. Rosalia wouldn’t tell the truth through his story, however—it would be the story of his sister, Anaria, who’d been the reason the nephilim had slaughtered so many vampires, including those Rosalia loved. Until six months ago, Rosalia hadn’t even known about Michael’s sister. Now her thoughts were filled with the woman who possessed such terrifying power and good intentions.
    Supposedly, the path to Hell was paved with good intentions. Rosalia hoped to make that path an expressway for Anaria and every one of her cursed nephilim children.
    Vincente shook his head. “Michael lied, yet you go to him now?”
    “Yes.” Michael was not perfect as she’d once painted him, yet he always came through when he was needed. But Michael couldn’t do that if he didn’t know she needed him. Rosalia smiled and flicked her hood up over her hair. “I have a little more faith in him than you do.”

CHAPTER 3
    Anaria
    After the First Battle, Lucifer gained the throne in Hell, and as its ruler, the realm resonated deeply within him, strengthening his already considerable might. As the eons passed, he practiced his magic, using symbols and blood to increase his knowledge and power. He opened Gates to Earth and sent his demons into the world. He made portals to Chaos, where dragons with unharnessed magic reigned over a realm of stone and fire. From the creatures of both realms, Earth and Chaos, he took blood and bodies, and formed new life in Hell—the hellhounds, the basilisks, the nychiptera, and more—each terrifying and hungry. He named the act “creation” and said his powers equaled those Above, yet he was not satisfied. For although some of Lucifer’s creatures feared him and a few were loyal to the throne, none worshipped him.
    On Earth, however, humans had begun worshipping the seraphim, despite having little reason to do so. The Rules protected humankind; they did not have to fear the angels, who in their weakness never made examples of men or demanded their obedience. Lucifer was not weak, and so he schemed to create a race superior to humans—a race that did not have to follow the Rules and that could bring humanity to their knees. A race that would obey and worship him, as was his due. To that end, he carved symbols into the flesh of his chosen demons—including his most powerful and loyal lieutenant, Belial—and bade them to drink the blood and eat from the heart of a dragon. The spell transformed the demons; they left Hell and mated with humans. Five sets of twins were conceived, and in each set a child of light and a child of darkness were born. They were the grigori, and they possessed strength and power, just as Lucifer had planned.
    But Lucifer had not anticipated that the demons’ transformations went deeper than the physical, and that they might love their human mates and their children. The seraphim befriended and loved the children, as well, and so the grigori were raised as a family—not in hatred and fear, but with understanding and kindness.
    Of the grigori, Belial’s daughter, Anaria, was the most understanding, the most kind. Her goodness shone through to her soul as easily as the sun through glass. Though her dark brother, Michael, possessed greater physical strength and spirit, it was Anaria they each tried to emulate, and to whom they looked as a guide. She was their heart.
    Her heart she gave to another grigori—Zakril, one of the light twins and brother to Khavi. They married, and their lives were filled with a