Demon Forged

him.”
    Taylor got it. She didn’t understand the code this woman lived by, but she understood that Wren was doing her damnedest to deliver a message in a way that didn’t break that code.
    “Where are they headed? Perhaps we can inform this other party that he’s riding with someone who shouldn’t be operating a vehicle.”
    “The airport. My employer told me that Mr. Deacon has almost completed a job for him. They are returning to Prague, where it will be finished.”
    A job ? Oh, Jesus.
    And why did Deacon sound familiar? Had she run across it in one of the files?
    Wren went absolutely still, her gaze fixed over Taylor’s shoulder. Taylor glanced around. Michael stood just behind and to the left of her. His eyes weren’t black, but they might as well have been. The intensity of his amber gaze burned.
    “Describe Deacon, please.”
    Wren’s gaze darted to where Michael had been standing a few seconds ago. “How—”
    “Describe him.”
    Without moving, Wren seemed to draw herself up straight. “Six-three, two-ten—all muscle. Brown hair, shoulder-length. Green eyes. Scars here”—she drew her forefinger in a line across the knuckles of her left hand—“and in a crescent below his jaw.” She hesitated before adding, “Theatrically altered teeth.”
    The vampire from Savi’s club. Oh, shit. Taylor was almost afraid to look at Michael now. She did. He appeared calm.
    She wondered what was going on below that.
    But the important thing here was that Rael had brought a vampire close to Wren. If the demon wasn’t trying to hide Deacon, what else would he be revealing to her? And what kind of bargain would he use to keep her quiet . . . if he didn’t have her killed, too?
    Michael must have been thinking something similar. He gestured to the car. “Will you please come with us, Miss Wren?”
    Wren didn’t move. “Where, and why?”
    “Special Investigations,” Taylor said. Her phone vibrated again—just once. A text. “For your protection, and to explain a few things about bargains—and why you won’t want to make any in the near future.”
    Wren only hesitated for a second before nodding. “I’ll come with you.”
    “Good. Take the passenger side.” She preferred to have Michael at her back; she thought Michael preferred that, too.
    As Wren rounded the hood, Michael said softly, “She’s not concerned for her safety. She’s curious.”
    Taylor would have been freaked out, but it took all kinds. She got in, checked her message as she waited for Michael to slide into the back.
    She frowned and turned to look at Michael. “It’s Cordoba. He says, ‘Michael is needed at SI.’ And that’s all.”
    But it was apparently enough. Michael’s eyes flashed obsidian. Her breath caught. Suddenly, the man wasn’t someone she wanted anywhere behind her, but something dangerous, frightening.
    “SI,” she dimly heard Wren repeat. “That is where we are going?”
    “Yes,” Michael said in the deep, harmonious voice she hadn’t heard him use around other humans. In the confines of her car, it sounded utterly in human. “We are going now.”
    Taylor braced herself, realizing what was coming, but she didn’t see him reach out. His hand touched her shoulder and the world dove into a flat spin.
    God. Even before she opened her eyes, she smelled the blood. Michael held her against him, his arm like a rock across her stomach. Metal flashed in front of her eyes; he had a sword in his opposite hand.
    Wren weaved dizzily on her knees next to them. She’d gone for the gun in her shoulder holster, but hadn’t pulled it out yet. Her eyes were wide, her face white.
    “I can stand,” Taylor forced out.
    Michael let her go. She stumbled a few steps, but thank God, remained upright. Their surroundings came into focus: the hub at the Special Investigations warehouse. A novice sat on the stairs, sobbing. Standing at the head of a hallway, Cordoba turned their way, lowering his phone. He started toward them, his hands flying in the Guardians’ sign language.
    Taylor’s quick scan screeched to a halt. To her right, Savi sat with her back against a wall, Colin in her arms, her hands clamped tightly together over his chest. Blood covered them both.
    “Oh, Jesus.” Taylor rushed forward. “My God, Savi—what happened?”
    “She got in.” A bubble of hysterical laughter burst from the vampire. “Anaria was in our base, killing our dudes.”
    Colin made a soothing sound, though his eyes were