Demon Forged

Irena usually didn’t notice that he had teleported until she heard his heartbeat. But this time, she sensed him immediately—and almost suffocated under the weight of his psychic scent.
    She usually couldn’t even feel his psychic scent.
    “Yes. I just—” Taylor glanced to the right. “Never mind. Later.”
    Irena was not sure if Savi had even heard. The vampires moved uncomfortably, though they didn’t look as blanketed with the dark weight as she did.
    Then it lightened, though his eyes were fully obsidian. To Irena’s surprise, he sat next to Taylor. The detective stiffened, but didn’t scoot closer to Savi.
    His harmonious voice had a deep, hard edge that she rarely heard. “Who are you?”
    Without color in his eyes, it was impossible to know where his gaze was focused—but as there was only one person at the table Michael didn’t know, Irena said, “Deacon.”
    “You found Rosalia.”
    The vampire looked uncomfortable at taking the credit. “Yes.”
    “Thank you.”
    Beneath the table, Irena’s hands began shaking. Michael had not done anything, but something about him terrified her.
    Something the vampires obviously didn’t feel the same way.
    Michael drew in a breath. The goblet in front of Deacon vanished and reappeared in Michael’s grip. “Nosferatu blood.”
    Deacon glanced at her. “To see if I’ll end up stronger.”
    The Doyen nodded. “You might. And I should not be surprised that it is Irena who has thought of it. She is the one who made the first of you.”
    “What? The first vampire?” A wave of curiosity washed away Savi’s discomfort. “How?”
    “It is a tale for a darker night.” Irena’s gaze held Michael’s. “The story does not end well.”
    Irena, only a century old, had come upon a young woman trying to fight a nosferatu. Though she hadn’t killed the creature—Irena had—the woman had fought with honor. So Irena had cut the heart from the nosferatu’s body and given it to her.
    Irena hadn’t known that the woman would heal with each bite, or that when she’d ingested enough, she’d transform. But they’d both been delighted and amazed when she had. Irena had helped the young woman explore her abilities throughout the night . . . but had not anticipated the agony that the sun brought.
    She’d died, screaming.
    “It did not end well for that one. But many lives have been saved since.” Michael looked at her and spoke in the language of the Mongol Horde. Irena had not heard the dialect in centuries—and, very likely, no one else at the table could understand his words. “It was not a failure. You could not know daylight would kill her.”
    But she should have guessed. She’d known a nosferatu’s weakness. Beneath the table, she laced her trembling fingers together. Why had he used a different language—one that only she would know? “Did Khavi tell you who the woman was?”
    “Yes.” He angled his head slightly, toward the corner of the booth where Taylor and Savi were speaking with each other. “The human beside me.”
    Irena’s heart thumped a painful beat. “What will happen?”
    “A vampire. Khavi does not see how or when it comes about. Only that it does.”
    And that explained why Michael was here. He would not let it happen. Neither would Irena. “Can it be changed?”
    She knew he would say yes. Michael believed that free will dictated the future, not prophecy.
    “Yes.”
    Then why was he so upset? Unless . . . “Was there more? Did she tell you more?”
    “Yes.” The dark psychic weight pushed her down again—despair. Terror. Then it lifted, as if he’d made an effort to conceal it. “But I will not let it come to pass.”

CHAPTER 9
    Demon, name unknown. Alias, Fabián Palacio.
    Demon, name unknown. Alias, Roberto Verón.
    Affiliation: Belial, suspected. Palacio and Verón have assumed co-leadership of the vampire community in Bue-nos Aires. I witnessed blood drawn from vampires and col- lected, similar to the methods outlined by Sammael (Legion Corporation, Seattle). Further observation indicates that the demons are training a select number of vampires.
    And the demons could have used tutoring themselves, Alejandro thought, lifting his pen from his report. His desk chair creaked as he leaned back and looked through the open window of his study. Winter birds chirped and fluttered in the garden. Across the bay, the city of Cádiz was nestled like a pearl between the satiny blue water and the clear skies.
    Many