Demon Bound

the chorus of indrawn breaths. “If you give a dead body to him, will it still fulfill your bargain?”
    “No,” Alice said.
    Irena shrugged. “So you will release her to him, and we will hunt her down.”
    “She was once trapped with her back against a stone wall, and facing twenty of Lucifer’s sentinels. She fought rather than teleport,” Michael said softly. “She will not be so easy to hunt. Or to slay.”
    “Will she be coming after us if we don’t fall in line?” Drifter asked.
    “I cannot say. But if we oppose her—and if she decides to lead the nephilim, we must oppose her—she will strike back.”
    Even Irena appeared troubled by that.
    Alice drew in a short breath, as if her throat was hurting. “It may be that Teqon will only take her to kill her. I do not know.”
    “Since when do we let demons carry out Guardian executions? Or trade the life of one Guardian for the soul of another?”
    Since that had come from one of the pricks Jake wished was swimming, he didn’t even let Alice take time to acknowledge it. “There’s something else. Khavi said that if Alice doesn’t fulfill her bargain, I’ll be killed.”
    Michael closed his eyes. Jake wished he could do the same, and shut out the second round of exclamations and comments, questions and guesses. But no goddamn answers.
    And Alice must have been on the verge of screaming. His chest was tightening along with her fingers, and he thought, pretty soon, something was going to snap.
    But it came quietly. In a sudden lull, Alice asked softly, “Michael . . . what choice would you make in my place? What is best?”
    He shook his head. “There is no ‘best.’ This cannot be decided to everyone’s satisfaction, yet someone must decide. And as it is your soul at risk, Alice—that decision must be yours.”

CHAPTER 23
    Alice was cutting the webs from the frames in the Nephila room when she heard Jake return. After the gathering, she had come back to her quarters, but he’d been responsible for taking a third of the Guardians back to their assignments.
    One look at him told her how that had gone. She hadn’t missed the hostility or the sympathy, and she imagined that there had been many vocal in both as he’d teleported them wherever they needed to go.
    Michael had made it her decision, but whatever her decision, it would not please many. She cared for some of their opinions—and though there were some she did not, she did care if her decision endangered their lives.
    But she would think no more of a disapproving glance than Remus and Romulus did her smile or her frown.
    It was Jake, she thought, who would bear their anger—and, because of his association with her, be a target for it. He would be judged for her actions, blamed for her decision.
    She took in his clenched jaw, the flat stare he directed at nothing. Anaria was still in her box, and already, she thought, some of the blame had begun.
    Carefully, she cut the tether lines of the next web, then vanished it into her cache. When she glanced back, Jake was watching her hand.
    “How long does it take them to make a new one?”
    Was this curiosity—or a safe zone? Her throat tightened. “Only a few hours. I harvest them every couple of days. I could more often, I suppose, but it seems rather cruel to force them to always be spinning.”
    “Would they care?”
    Alice shook her head.
    He tilted his head back, as if looking through the ceiling. “And the widow babies you brought back from Teqon’s? They’re, uh . . . settling in?”
    “Some of them. Some will be killed by the other widows.”
    “Nature taking its course?”
    “Yes. I once tried to stop them with my Gift. It was painful.”
    He was quiet, then said, “Listen, Alice. Michael said this decision could only be yours, so I’m pretty useless around here right now. And you won’t need me to help you out anymore, since Michael can teleport you—and if you decide to make the trade, he can open the sarcophagus. So maybe I ought to start working with Drifter again.”
    “I see,” she said evenly. “Yes, I suppose that is for the best. Ethan is such an agreeable companion.”
    “Yeah, everyone likes him. And you and me—well, we can remain friends.” Nodding, as if in agreement with himself, he repeated, “Friends. Yep. Just like Irena and Alejandro.”
    The wretch. “Very well. Do have a nice life. I hope that you think well of me.”
    “Could you say that again?”
    She faced him, frowning.