Demon Bound

he was too accustomed to scaring himself—he expected blood to drip from them at any moment.
    Time to move on, then. Fighting his girly shudder, he crossed to the south side of the room.
    As soon as his light revealed the first sculpted panel, Jake froze.
    He’d seen this before.
    There was the dragon that Lucifer had called forth from Chaos during the Second Battle, and the human Michael thrusting his sword into its heart.
    And it was a near replica of a frieze carved into the doors of Michael’s temple in Caelum.
    Why was it here ? Jake’s heart kicked into overdrive.
    And he heard a footstep from behind him.
    A gloved palm slapped over his mouth before he could react. A slim hand rose in front of his face, fingers flashing a warning in the Guardians’ sign language.
    Do not move, novice. Do not even breathe if you wish to live.
    He nodded, but didn’t relax. Demons also knew how to sign. And like a demon, she had no odor.
    Quickly, he tucked his phone into his jeans pocket, leaving the backlit screen exposed, and raised his own hand. How do I know what you are?
    As if not being dead wasn’t a gigantic hint.
    The gloves vanished; the fingers pressing over his lips were strong, slender—and warm. A demon’s would have been hot.
    All right, he signed, and she released him after another warning to be silent.
    The moment he faced her, she asked, Can you teleport away?
    Probably not. Right now, he was more curious than afraid. Since she’d known about his Gift, she obviously recognized him—but he didn’t recognize her. A hijab covered her hair and forehead; layers of loose robes concealed her tall form. Her dark eyes studied him from beneath black brows.
    When he shook his head in response, the dusky skin over her jaw whitened and she looked toward the chamber entrance.
    Jake knew almost every Guardian by sight, and most by mannerism. She’d probably shape-shifted into this form to blend with the regional population, but he didn’t have a clue who she was.
    And he wasn’t going to get the opportunity to ask. Her weapon appeared in her hand: a tall staff topped by a long, curving blade.
    Which Guardian wielded a naginata? Jake wondered as he replaced his crossbow with his sword. Even Mariko, the Guardian who’d introduced Jake to the weapon, didn’t use it except for practice—the wooden staff splintered too easily.
    But this one had obviously been modified to withstand a Guardian’s strength and frequent use: the staff was fashioned of steel. To counter its weight, the blade extended half again a naginata’s typical length.
    With a wince, Jake glanced down at his own sword. He didn’t quite measure up.
    The Guardian’s gaze followed his, and when she met his eyes again, he thought humor quirked her lips.
    Use the crossbow, she signed. They’ll flare their eyes to see.
    Demons. Jake’s grip tightened on the sword before he exchanged it with the crossbow again. Their eyes shone crimson; in the dark, they’d serve as a bright red target.
    But rarely an easy one.
    The Guardian was watching the entry again, and the low psychic thrum of her Gift pushed through his body. Her fingers moved at her side. They’ve entered the bathing chamber. Three of them.
    No telling what her Gift was, except that it had helped her locate the demons. Jake couldn’t hear or sense them—but because she’d used her Gift, they’d have sensed her.
    She turned back to him. Do the bolts in your crossbow have venom?
    Yes. The shafts and arrowheads had been coated with hellhound venom—not enough to paralyze a demon, but it’d slow one down.
    Don’t miss, she signed, and with an elegant sweep, she caught the edge of his cell phone on the point of her blade and flicked it out of his pocket.
    Taking the hint, he vanished it into his hammerspace. Darkness surrounded them. Her hand clasped his, and he felt the brush of her wings before she tugged him into the air.
    Okay. Apparently, her Gift was the ability to see in the dark. Jake dangled beneath her, aware that they were flying upward, expecting to smash into the ceiling at any second.
    But she slowed, hovered, and maneuvered forward until stone was at his back, his side, and formed a shelf behind his knees. She lowered him onto the ledge, pressed her hand against his chest in an unmistakable Stay put .
    He heard the air rip through her wings as she dove away. A moment later, light flashed from the antechamber. A grating screech accompanied it, like iron fingernails