Demon Bound

hard. “Should I lecture you on the difference between forging swords to slay demons and forming a prison for a friend?”
    “No.” Alice sighed. “Twenty years ago, it seemed a sensible solution.”
    “Only an odd-brained ox would think it sensible.”
    “You agreed to it.”
    “You were petrified with fear, certain Teqon would have your soul in the frozen field the moment you left Caelum. You were like the novices who will not take their first dive without a mentor on the ground to catch them. A sensible novice knows that she will suffer the same injuries crashing into the ground as into her mentor, and that if she insists otherwise, two will be injured instead of one. But you were not sensible.”
    Alice stared into the flames until her vision blurred. What a strange picture of herself this presented. She’d always thought she’d formed a reasonable plan despite her fear, not as a result of it. But did reason ever come from fear?
    She couldn’t deny she had used the box as a safety net, as a way to exert some control over her fate. But it was a net that would hurt as much to land on as the ground—and hurt others as well. Irena would have had to build it, someone would have had to teleport her into it, and everyone would have known that she was isolated inside, slowly going mad.
    In the end, it would be no different than the frozen field—except that she would have laid an additional burden on her friends by asking them to help her into it.
    She blew out a soft breath. “I suppose a sensible mentor says she will catch the novice, but steps aside at the last minute rather than be smashed.”
    “She steps aside,” Irena said, “because only a stupid novice would not be more sensible on the second dive. You are odd, not stupid.”
    “Yet I am a fool?” she asked, smiling.
    “If Jake left, that means you did not tell him you no longer intended to use the box. That you had already decided against it, but were unsure if that decision came from reason rather than dread.” When Alice didn’t respond, Irena tilted her head, examined her face. “Why is he the one you test yourself against? I know very well that you think for yourself and that your mind is your own—yet when you were uncertain, you measured yourself against him.”
    “I do not know.” When she had more time to consider the question, when everything she felt for him settled, she might discover the answer. “Or do you mean: Why him . . . and not you?”
    Irena’s eyes widened and she burst into laughter.
    Alice had not expected more than a chuckle. Surprised, she asked, “Would that be impossible?”
    “Yes.” There was a feral edge to Irena’s grin. “We do not have a common measure. Hate does not drive you; compassion does. A sense of fairness. You slay demons because you care for humans, because you know they are evil, because they take advantage of and twist everything good.”
    Alice’s eyebrows furrowed. “We all hate them.”
    “You despise what they are, what they do.” Green fire burned in her eyes. “I hate them . Every single demon, and every single drop of blood in their veins. You thrill at a fight, and relish a victory. I relish the break of their bones, the rending of their flesh—and above all, the kill.” She drew back slightly, her gaze steady on Alice’s face. “And so you would not be comfortable with my unit of measure.”
    “No, I would not,” Alice agreed. She understood that hate—she felt it for Belial. But she could not conceive of it on such a wide scale—not against demons who had not personally harmed those she loved. Hate was too intimate.
    And that much hate sounded far too exhausting.
    She hesitated before asking, “And Michael?”
    Irena’s expression cooled. “If you decide to fulfill your bargain, and Guardians are queuing to take your head . . . I will no longer be standing in line.”

CHAPTER 21
    After three hours of flying and passing through several Gates trying to find Jake, she had never wished for the Gift of teleportation more.
    It would not be much longer until he found her , she knew. In a little more than an hour, the sun would have set over Turkey, and they would begin searching for Anaria’s temple.
    And when the sun rose again, she would ask him to take her to Cairo—and harden her stomach to do what she must. She would have her Sunday in Giza.
    She would have not just one, but as many as she liked.
    Dawn had just come to San Francisco when she located Selah in