Demon Forged

I.” Alejandro rose onto his knees, ducking his head beneath the low dome.
    “We shall shower Jake with our disappointment.” Alice took a deep breath. “We’re blind.”
    Yes. Irena called in her knives, crouching. Alejandro brought in the heavy swords she’d made him. She waited for Alice’s long-bladed naginata to appear in the Guardian’s hands before she said, “On three, I’ll unfold the dome, and give us a wall. The mountain should be at our backs. As soon as we are on our feet, I’ll vanish the steel. On three.”
    She counted, then rolled her Gift through the metal. The dome opened like an oyster shell, flattening and rising to form a wide shield in front of them.
    Something hit the other side. Before Irena could react, the wall slammed into her. She smashed into granite. Bones snapped—not hers. Beside her, Alice’s eyes were closed, her body limp. Pinned by the steel wall facing Alice, Irena couldn’t see Olek. She tried to push forward. Her feet slipped. On blood?
    She struck with her Gift. Steel spikes stabbed outward; Irena heard a feminine gasp of pain. The pressure of the wall eased. Irena folded the thick steel sheet, snapping it closed like an Iron Maiden. She missed.
    Alice crumpled to the ground. Black dust and smoke filled the air around them, above them, obscuring the frozen ceiling. Only flashes of lightning and the never-ending screams penetrated the dense cloud. Irena vanished the steel wall.
    Black dust streaking her beautiful face like tears, a sword in her hand, Anaria lunged out of the darkness toward Irena.
    Olek got there first. The blade meant for Irena’s heart stabbed through his stomach.
    Irena caught the tip as it pierced his back. Her Gift raged through the sword, peeling thin wires from the blade. They climbed Anaria’s sword arm. Irena wound them tight, biting into skin and muscle.
    Anaria froze.
    Her chest heaving, Irena slipped her right arm around Olek’s waist. She couldn’t see Anaria’s face. She couldn’t release the sword. “Let him go.”
    A sob caught in Anaria’s voice. “You killed my children.”
    I would kill them all. Irena didn’t dare say it. Not when Anaria still held the sword. Not when her strength could tear dull steel up through Olek’s heart, not when Anaria’s speed far exceeded Irena’s. Even if she softened the steel, the grigori could punch through Olek’s heart.
    She did not know how to respond, what would get them out of this.
    Olek did. And despite the sword through his gut, when he spoke his words were the smoothest silk. “You will not kill her, Anaria.”
    “No?” The reply devolved into a laugh, high and pained.
    “No. And if you vow you will not, I will tell you the name of the demon who murdered Zakril.”
    The laugh stopped. The sword quivered against Irena’s bloodied hand. “Who?”
    Olek waited.
    “If you speak true, I will not kill her,” Anaria promised.
    Irena’s body trembled. Olek bargained with Anaria as he would with a demon. “Him,” she said. “You won’t kill him .”
    “Her,” Olek said firmly, and before Irena could reply—“Rael murdered your husband. Rael stabbed a sword through Zakril’s chest, pinning him to a stone wall. He pounded iron spikes through Zakril’s wings, and used his desecrated body to leave a message for your children, so they would know where to find you.”
    “No.” The sword jerked. Olek tensed, but didn’t make a sound; Irena clenched her teeth against the terrified scream rising in her throat. “I can see lies, and Rael has never lied to me. He has said he is a friend to me.”
    “If you also see the truth, you know that I do not lie.”
    Anaria’s breath shuddered once, twice. Her reply held less conviction, yet more determination—as if she were trying to convince herself. “He has never lied to me.”
    “Then perhaps you have never asked him the right questions.” Olek’s voice hardened. “Starting, perhaps, with his definition of friendship.”
    Movement flashed at the corner of her eye. A winged shadow passed through the dark cloud. Irena couldn’t determine size or shape.
    Olek must have seen it, too. His heart beat faster. His weight shifted, almost imperceptibly—preparing to move.
    When she spoke, Anaria’s harmonious voice had lost all emotion. “Do you have any regrets, Guardian?”
    Irena stiffened, prepared to liquefy the sword. She searched her cache. An anvil. A rock. It did not matter— this could not happen.
    “Just