Demon Forged

what was coming. Alejandro did, and he returned the vampire’s stare until Deacon pulled back to look at Irena.
    With a swift punch to Deacon’s jaw, she laid the vampire out flat.
    Yes. There was more than one reason Alejandro didn’t often take his eyes off her.

CHAPTER 2
    “What the hell was that for?”
    Deacon’s new lisp prevented Irena from taking his anger seriously. She picked up his fang from the sidewalk and wiped the long, pointed tooth against her leather stockings. Deacon sat up and snatched it from her fingers.
    “That was for coming to Rome.” Before he could resume snarling at her, she added, “Put your tooth back before your mouth heals.”
    Deacon pushed the fang into the bloodied gap between his upper teeth as he got to his feet. “Is Rome forbidden now? Fucking make up your mind, Irena. You Guardians talk about free will, but—”
    “You idiot. The nephilim might still be here, and they are out for vampire blood.”
    “Ah.” The fingers holding his tooth in place ruined his sudden grin. “So you were worried about me?”
    “You are too stupid for me to care.” She hooked her thumbs into her belt, took a casual glance over her shoulder. Around the piazza, humans lost interest when no more punches were thrown. She’d heard exclamations of surprise and a few whispers when she’d slugged him, but little other response. Irena wondered whether they’d have interfered if she’d been a man and Deacon a woman. She turned back to him. “And I wouldn’t have hit you if you couldn’t take it.”
    “Thanks, Irena. That makes it hurt less.” Deacon managed sarcasm even with his hand stuffed in his mouth. He nodded over her shoulder at Alejandro. “Would you hit him?”
    No. That meant touching him. “I would never have to, for he is never stupid.” If only Olek had been a fool. Then she would not admire him so much. “He is Alejandro Sandoval de Córdoba y Hacén. A Guardian and a friend.”
    “Does your Guardian friend ever change his expression?”
    “No.”
    “He doesn’t look like your usual type. Too many brains, not enough muscles.”
    Irena smirked. “And so you are my type?” Not that the vampire lacked brains. She continued over his muffled laugh, “Why are you in Rome, Deacon? Has your community been threatened?”
    “No. They’re fine.” His gaze shifted from hers. “And it’s not my community anymore.”
    Irena stared at him in disbelief. He’d been leading the Prague community for more than sixty years. “What happened?”
    “Another vampire moved in. Strong. Nosferatu-born, maybe.”
    Vampires transformed by nosferatu blood were stronger than those who transformed with vampire blood. And in most communities, leadership was determined by deadly combat—so the most powerful vampires led.
    Cleverness and skill could overcome strength, however; it surprised her that Deacon had been outmatched physically and mentally. And where had this new vampire come from? The nosferatu-born were uncommon. Unless a Guardian interfered, the nosferatu would kill its human prey.
    Had any Guardians recently created a nosferatu-born vampire? She would have to find out.
    Alejandro came up beside her, and regarded Deacon with a flat, unwavering stare. “The one who defeated you allowed you to walk away?”
    Yes, Irena also found that strange. Only a foolish vampire would leave a rival alive—unless he thought slaying Deacon might cultivate resentment instead of inspiring loyalty. Deacon was beloved by his community; mercy might win his successor more support than ruthlessness could.
    “He claimed he didn’t want to kill me. Only to take over—and he didn’t need to finish me off to do that.” Deacon looked to Irena, bitterness in his psychic scent. “Let’s just say that yours wasn’t the first hit I’ve taken in the last month. And that this healing was nothing in comparison.”
    Irena met Alejandro’s gaze and saw the same question that she knew was in hers. In the past two years, since the Gates to Hell had been closed, several demons had tried to pass as vampires. If a demon insinuated himself into a community and assumed leadership, he could force the vampires to kill humans or deny their free will. As long as the vampires carried out his orders, the demon didn’t break the Rules.
    “He hit you?” Irena asked Deacon. “With his hands?”
    “You know any other ways to hit?”
    “Yes. Were his fists cold?” A demon’s skin was hot.
    A demon’s