Demon Forged

they’d been assigned to crowd control . . . and a woman had died on their watch.
    Just screwed, all around. But she was going to make damn sure her partner didn’t go down with her.
    Unfortunately, she didn’t know how the hell to do that. With a sick feeling in her gut, she finished up the call and stopped at the top of the stairs. The Guardian pulled her through the roof door again, and she blinked at the bright sun.
    Irena glanced at her. She’d probably listened in on the conversation. Only God knew what the Guardian saw in her face—or how much of her emotions she could read.
    “What is San Francisco General?”
    “A hospital.”
    Irena frowned. “Do you and your partner know the congressman is a demon?”
    Well, if she hadn’t known he was a demon, she would now. Not that it mattered; someone was dead, and someone else had to be held accountable for it—demon or not. “Yes. But we still have a job to do. Questions to ask.”
    “Yes. Of course.” Irena’s brows drew together, and Taylor had the feeling she’d either said something the Guardian thought was incredibly stupid, or they’d been talking about two different things. God. She could never figure these people out.
    “So are you going to take this one?”
    Irena looked baffled. “Me?”
    “Not you you. Special Investigations.” Taylor flapped her hands like little wings. “The Guardians.”
    Her expression changed—into scorn, maybe. Then frustration. She looked out over the roof and said quietly, “I don’t know.”

CHAPTER 7
    Alejandro shed the appearance of a federal agent the moment he entered the Special Investigations warehouse; he couldn’t shed the frustration of spending four futile hours at the hospital so easily. He and Detective Preston had learned next to nothing from Rael—and once the FBI had arrived, he’d listened in on a repeat of next-to-nothing.
    According to Preston, Taylor and Irena hadn’t found much more.
    Beside him, Drusilla shifted into her own shape and un-clipped her hospital badge from her lab coat. Frustration twisted in her psychic scent, as well, but Alejandro didn’t think hers had anything to do with the little information they’d gotten, or even that the safeguards SI had prepared in the event a Guardian or vampire was severely wounded in public had been implemented to cover up a demon’s injuries. No, he thought Dru’s frustration came from being in a hospital full of people that she simply couldn’t help. In that, Dru was much like Irena: Neither woman could tolerate a situation where they couldn’t do anything.
    Alejandro had to admit he could not tolerate it, either—the difference was, he’d look for another option. In all fairness, Dru’s Gift didn’t give her one; she couldn’t heal natural diseases or human-caused injuries. But Irena was just too damned stubborn to see—let alone consider—alternatives.
    He passed through security and into the corridor leading to the central hub, and halted midstride when he heard Irena’s shout from the direction of the gymnasium, followed by Castleford’s voice giving instructions and calls of encouragement from the novices.
    Shaking off his surprise, he continued on to the hub. He hadn’t expected Irena to remain in the city after taking her leave of Taylor. And he hadn’t expected her to return here . But he’d forgotten about the vampire upstairs—she must be waiting for Deacon to awaken; sunset wasn’t far off.
    Irena’s battle cry rang out—a sound that Alejandro had only heard her use during practice. A second later, Pim crashed through the doors and smashed into the opposite wall. The plaster collapsed around her body. The novice’s arm twisted at an unnatural angle, the bone piercing the skin below her elbow.
    Drusilla gave a gasp of dismay and started forward.
    Irena stepped through the doors and crouched in front of the novice. “It was well done until you lost your balance. You shouldn’t startle so easily.” Her gaze fell from the novice’s pinched features to her arm. “If you heal that, we will try again.”
    Drusilla reached Pim’s side. Unlike Michael, Dru couldn’t heal from a distance, but as soon as her hand touched the novice’s skin, the warm roll of her healing Gift ran over Alejandro’s psyche. The novice’s flesh mended instantly.
    Irena looked up at the healer with a feral smile. Drusilla’s jaw set. Neither of them spoke.
    In the silence, Hugh came out of the gymnasium. He slipped his