Demon Forged

why Bradshaw had asked her to come in for an additional interview. Of course Wren hadn’t, but Rael claimed she did. And in Rael’s place, Alejandro would have done the same thing.
    Knowing that didn’t bother him; thinking like the demon would be an asset later. He escorted Rael into the conference room where Preston and Taylor waited and took the opportunity to study the demon’s walk, the way he nodded as he greeted the detectives. Alejandro knew Rael called his receptionist by her first name and his personal assistant by his surname. Later, he’d watch recordings from the floor of the Senate, interviews, and campaign speeches.
    But the congressman wouldn’t be the same. He’d sell his house and take a modest apartment in the city. He wouldn’t be as outgoing, he wouldn’t smile much, and he wouldn’t attend as many functions. He’d be passionate about his work, focused— if somewhat solitary. The changes would be blamed on his recent personal loss. Grief would do that to a man.
    Not a demon. Rael sat at the conference table with barely contained energy, like a child waiting for a gift.
    He spread his hands as he addressed the detectives sitting at the end of the table. “I’ll get right to it. You are looking at my personal head of staff, Maggie Wren. You’re looking in the wrong direction.”
    Alejandro rested his back against the wall directly across from the demon. “That is not what the evidence suggests,” he said.
    Rael’s frown managed to be both earnest and irritated. “Then you aren’t looking hard enough, Guardian. I don’t expect you to take my word for this—but she’s a good woman.”
    “She was an assassin. She made her living by murdering humans,” he said, laying it on thick.
    Alejandro saw a distinct difference between government assassins and murderers, but he preferred Rael to think of him as a narrow-minded, sanctimonious Guardian. The demon would be less likely to expect what came later.
    “You don’t believe a human deserves a second chance? That’s all I’ve wanted, to offer her—” He broke off. In a human, Alejandro might have believed the suppressed display of emotion. “You must see that this is the work of a demon—one of Lucifer’s followers—who is looking to hurt me, and to discredit me and mine. And the FBI are following the clues they’ve laid like dogs. You need to dig deeper—”
    Khavi appeared at the end of the room, with Irena beside her, blinking through her disorientation. Rael’s shock hit Alejandro’s psychic shields.
    “Khavi!” The demon’s greeting was surprised and welcoming.
    And Alejandro believed that display of emotion. A leaden weight formed in his gut. “You know each other?”
    Preston sat forward, as if uncertain whether he should be standing—either because the women had appeared or to get out of the way. Irena began to walk along the table on Rael’s side, toward the detectives.
    “Yes,” Khavi said, making no effort to approach the demon. “He was a friend to Zakril, Anaria, Aaron, and me in the centuries after Michael ordered Anaria’s execution. We hid from the Doyen together, fought together.” Her smile was sharp. “It is lovely to see that he is a friend to the Guardians again.”
    As if uneasy, Rael looked away from Khavi. He glanced to his side, as if just noticing Irena walking past him. For an instant, he seemed surprised again. He quickly recovered, flashed his smile at her, and turned away from her to look at Khavi again.
    Idiot, Alejandro thought.
    Irena smashed the demon’s face into the table. The impact cracked as loud as a gunshot. Taylor jumped up, her hand flying to her weapon. Preston rocked back in his chair, his face slack with surprise.
    Her muscles visibly straining, Irena held the demon down, her fingers clamped over the back of his head. “I am not your friend. And when the time comes, I will kill you.”
    Rael forced his head up. Blood dripped from his nose, his mouth. His teeth clenched, he gripped her arm, and tossed her over the table. Apparently finished, Irena went without resistance. She landed on her feet beside Alejandro.
    Rael laughed as he stood, holding a white handkerchief over his nose. He glanced at Khavi. “You will tell her, I hope, that she has not a chance of defeating me.”
    “Oh, you are safe from her. She does not slay you.” Khavi’s eyes softened. “Anaria will.”
    Rael’s smile faltered. Khavi vanished.
    Alejandro thought Rael appeared almost lost