Demon Forged

even if Alejandro had not been ready to take the demon’s place, the attack at the warehouse had changed everything. Perhaps Rael thought the Guardians’ reliance on his support in Washington would save him. The demon couldn’t have been more mistaken.
    “When you next see Rael,” Alejandro told her. “You do not have to hold back at all.”

CHAPTER 20
    Irena didn’t see Rael.
    She didn’t see Alejandro, either, except for in passing. For two days, she and Jake followed the sun’s path around the world, visiting the heads of vampire communities—she’d lost count of how many. Some, she only had to give contact information, and remind them about the dangers the nephilim posed; others, the reminders and warnings had bordered on threats.
    She’d slain four demons posing as vampires. It would have been five, if Jake had not used his teleporting advantage to race ahead. As soon as he could better control his electrical Gift, she thought he would not even have to teleport to slay a demon ahead of her—but she had only let him practice that Gift on her twice. They had too much to do; she could not lay unconscious for hours at a time. And after Cambodia, where she’d seen him throw off a lightning bolt that had struck a limb from a tree and left the vampires too frightened to do more than nod at them, she realized that unconscious might have traded up to dead .
    Jake had talked constantly. Some of it, she knew, was his natural inclination. Grief drove the rest, and after Cambodia, nervous energy and dread, so Irena hadn’t put a stop to his chatter. Every region they visited, he’d told her about the military history or described in detail archeological ruins particular to the area, and she’d learned more about forty-year-old rock music than she’d ever cared to know. By the time they’d finished, and returned to the SI warehouse for the final time, her need for quiet was a physical ache.
    So was her need to see Olek.
    Irena knew what he’d been doing, even if she had rarely seen him. She and Jake had frequently jumped back to SI to check in. There, depending upon the hour, Lilith, Hugh, or Michael updated them on Alejandro, Preston, and Taylor’s search for Laszlo Lukacs—who, it had not taken Savi much time to discover, had been a sharpshooter for the Hungarian police. It had taken less time for Lilith to construct evidence that implicated Lukacs in Julia Stafford’s murder. Once they found the vampire, a money trail and physical evidence would surface, wrapping Lukacs up neatly. The vampire himself would be slain.
    And as soon as Rael surfaced, his blood would run, too. But Congressman Stafford’s hands would stay clean.
    She could accept that, Irena decided as she climbed the stairs to the second floor. And she had to admit a sense of satisfaction, knowing that a Guardian would take over—and make good—a role a demon had created for his own ends.
    She still didn’t know exactly how Olek planned to do it, but she did believe that he could.
    When she reached the second level, quiet hung over the common room like a pale shroud, but it was not the kind of quiet she sought. The novices whispered in careful tones; their laughter only sounded in quick and uneasy bursts. The pall of grief dampened their psychic scents. The fragile tension would have to break soon—but Irena would not be the one to smash through it. She only spoke with them briefly before heading into the corridor that led to the soundproofed, mirrored room.
    She opened the door and paused. Michael stood in the center of the observation area, facing the mirrored chamber, his hands clasped behind his back. His thinking pose.
    “Stay,” he said when she began to back out. “I will not speak much.”
    No. Like Olek, he rarely did. She closed the door, muffling the noise from outside. From the beige sofa at the side of the room, she would be able to see his profile. She seated herself in the corner, drew her legs up. Neither of them breathed. She heard her heartbeat, his, and little else.
    And for the first time in months, she did not feel angry in his presence. The pain of his betrayal didn’t spear through her chest, forcing her rage up to her tongue. She didn’t ask why. She accepted the difference, and closed her eyes.
    Perhaps a half an hour passed before Michael said, “Khavi has foreseen a dragon, come to Earth.”
    The hairs on the back of her neck prickled, and a shiver worked down her spine. She looked up at him. “The