Demon Bound

the world she loves more than any other: her hellhound, and Hugh Castleford. Hugh mentored you, didn’t he?” At her nod, he said, “Me, too. Until Drifter took over.”
    “Ethan is a brave man. And patient.”
    Jake’s eyes narrowed, and he regarded her steadily before shrugging. “Yeah, he’s a hero. Anyway, Lilith named both Hugh and her hellhound ‘Sir Pup’—and she also calls her hellhound ‘puppy.’ So I see it as a compliment.”
    “How very optimistic you are.”
    With an easy grin, he strolled into the room. “I am. And you called Lilith ‘woman’ instead of ‘Lucifer’s hellspawn.’ So you don’t have a problem with her heading Special Investigations? Some other Guardians do.”
    “In truth, I hardly know of her.” Except that, through trickery and lies, Lilith had convinced Lucifer to release her—Lilith—from a bargain. Alice had taken particular notice of that. “Michael approves. As does Hugh, who knows her best. I will defer to their judgment.”
    “And she’s human now, so you couldn’t kill her without breaking the Rules, anyway.”
    Alice smiled thinly. “That is also true.”
    Jake stopped in front of her, and Alice decided she did not like that he stood over her by several inches. Why had she never shape-shifted into an immense height? But doing so now would be too obvious.
    “You shouldn’t have shown me your spiders,” he said. “Now that I’ve seen you with them, you don’t freak me out anymore. If you’d bitten their heads off, maybe. But being so careful with them? Nope.”
    What a terrible miscalculation. “That is unfortunate,” she said. “What if you need to teleport?”
    “I’ll manage. If it helps, you’re still creepy. Thirty black widows—and you’re feeding them vampire blood? Weirdsville.”
    She would not be amused. “I also have a tarantula.”
    “I think I’ve seen it.” His gaze dropped to her mouth. “All right, aside from Daddy Longlegs, that taps out my knowledge of different spider species. How about we move on to the temple in Tunisia?”
    “Literally?”
    “Well, I would, but here’s the thing: I already went back earlier today—and it’s gone.” He spread his hands, shook his head in disbelief, and repeated, “Just, gone. There’s a cliff, but no temple.”
    Alice looked away from him, fought the ache again. Her gaze slipped over the sketches on the walls, the photographs.
    “It is such a bother when that happens,” she said quietly.

CHAPTER 3
    Alice hadn’t expected her answers, such as they were, to satisfy the novice. After all, they’d never satisfied her.
    But that was where the similarity between them ended. She hadn’t stalked around her quarters, muttering to herself in the way Jake was now, his hands linked behind his head like a prisoner on the march. He didn’t lower them, even when he stopped in front of a photo and studied a male figure painted in profile.
    She’d memorized the figure’s sword, his simple tunic and sandals, years before. Though there weren’t any hieroglyphs to identify him, Alice was certain it was Michael.
    “And this one?”
    “From a temple about fifty miles west of where Abu Simbel stands now. That is a site in—”
    “Southern Egypt. Constructed during the reign of Rameses the Great, and relocated in the seventies when they built the Aswan Dam. Yes, I know.”
    His interruption was the first sign of irritation at her lecturing tone. He’d listened patiently through a monotonous history lesson about Mesopotamia and India, though he’d seemed to be biting his tongue. She’d pushed on, certain she’d been boring him. But he’d just been polite, letting the eccentric natter on; he’d already known all she’d told him.
    “It seems you do.” She’d tired of it as well. His reaction reminded her too much of her human years, when she’d smile and nod as people lectured to her on subjects that she already knew as well—or even better—than they, and then go on about her business. “I have no idea how long this temple stood before I discovered it, and it disappeared four days later.” Her gaze skimmed the wall below the photograph. A deep gouge scarred the smooth marble surface.
    No, she hadn’t paced the room in her frustration—she’d taken her weapon to it. She’d gained nothing, and left a blemish on her home.
    Oh, why didn’t he leave?
    A soft noise from the mice reminded her how he’d tricked her into inviting him in. He hadn’t brought them in