Demon Blood

each of them: Appearances were almost always deceiving. It didn’t require full-blown cynicism, but a healthy dose of suspicion never hurt.
    Or it ended up hurting less . Rosalia could’ve probably exercised her cynicism a little more often.
    The warehouse door opened into an empty white corridor. At the end, a novice disguised as an older gentleman in a butler’s uniform waited behind thick glass. With her Gift, Rosalia could have slipped into the building without using the entrance or bothering with security, but doing so felt rude. Though every Guardian was welcome at the warehouse, this facility and Special Investigations wasn’t hers . She presented her identification, instead, and submitted to the retinal scans designed to verify the identity of shape-shifters. Once admitted, she passed into a hallway, walked past offices and conferences rooms. They were mostly quiet now, though a few Guardians and vampires sat at desks, typing on their computers and speaking various languages into their phones.
    She reached the warehouse’s hub, where corridors headed in four directions and stairs led to the second floor. From the passageway across the hub, the psychic hum of a Gate reverberated through her mind, warm and gentle. With a few steps, she could cross into Caelum, a city of marble shining beneath a never-setting sun. She turned left, instead, seeking either Jake or Selah, two Guardians with the ability to teleport. Rosalia’s Gift could carry her through the dark, but she couldn’t go to a specific person unless she already knew where they were.
    She found Jake in the tech room. The young Guardian stood in front of one of the computers, his hands clasped behind his shaved head, staring at the machine like he wanted to shove his boot through the screen. The scent of fried circuitry hung in the air.
    She’d heard he’d picked up another Gift after he’d been transformed a second time. Apparently he was still working through the kinks.
    Jake glanced at Rosalia when she said his name, then did a double- take.
    She wasn’t surprised by his reaction. She hadn’t been in contact with any other Guardian since taking Deacon from Prague to her home. She was, however, surprised that he managed to keep his eyes on her face. Whenever she’d seen him before, his gaze had always been glued to her chest.
    God had been generous when He’d created her—and He was either kind to the men who looked at her, or cruel enough to test their character every time they did.
    “Hello. Jake.” She waved her hand, hoping to snap him out of the surprised expression that was rapidly turning into uncertainty. “Ciao . I know I have dropped in on you, but I need to speak with Michael. Will you take me to him?”
    His eyes widened. His gaze hadn’t dropped yet. Impressive. “Uh, yeah. But I don’t know if I can—”
    “Will you try? It’s important.”
    “But, you can’t—Shit. I need to tell you . . .” Doubt flooded his psychic scent. He ran his hands over his head, obviously flustered. “Hold on, okay?”
    He vanished.
    Rosalia smiled and closed her eyes. In the darkness, she listened. Upstairs, the novices chatted and played the card games that doubled as practice. Most of the rooms on the second floor were empty. Six months ago, she’d tried to seduce Deacon in one of those rooms, hoping he’d warm to her. It hadn’t worked, and she’d left—disappointed, frustrated, angry. She’d thought he’d been beaten by another vampire, rejected by his women, and tossed out of the community he’d once led. She hadn’t known his partners Eva and Petra had a demon’s knife to their throats.
    Now knowing the true circumstances, she respected that he hadn’t accepted what she’d offered. Not that she’d been very good at seduction. She’d never included it in her repertoire of talents.
    Perhaps she should have. She wasn’t likely to get the chance again, and she’d have liked to know what it was to be with him, even once.
    She also liked to console herself by imagining that he’d turn in a terrible performance. A suck and a thrust and a haul off .
    Heartbeats and a rustle of clothing told Rosalia that Jake had returned—but not with Michael. Irena and Alejandro accompanied him, still unsteady on their feet from the teleportation. Rosalia lifted her brows at Jake. Maybe he’d thought she just needed assistance slaying a demon. Alejandro and Irena were undeniably perfect for that. But they weren’t who she needed