Demon Forged

investigation into Rael.”
    Ah. This was Irena’s method of preventing conflict—she removed herself from the equation. Amusement eased the tightness that had been squeezing at his chest. “And so you want me to ask Lilith to pull the strings.”
    “You are more . . . diplomatic than I. And you know SI better—the American police better—and can imagine a way that will work for Taylor, as well. She doesn’t know about Khavi’s prediction, and even if she did, I doubt she’d accept protection. But if we involve her in the investigation she’ll be working near us, and Michael will not be the only one who protects her.”
    He capped the aloe and used the action to cover his silence. Dear God, how she amazed him. Irena could be so stubborn, so unwilling to see any view but her own narrow and unyielding one. And yet she was also this. Able to see the nuances of a person’s soul—to know how someone thought, how they would react. Able to anticipate conflicts, and maneuver around them.
    Always as blunt as a sledgehammer, but never as dull. Little wonder that she fascinated him. He would never understand how she could be a hammer and a sword, all at once.
    “I will ask Lilith,” he agreed.
    “Now.”
    “She is sleeping now.”
    Did Irena know that when she flashed that grin at him, he would move mountains for her—and enjoy every second of the effort? Suddenly, irritating Lilith had never been so appealing.
    “Very well,” he said.
    She turned. But not to go, he saw. She stepped out of the solarium and onto the patio, looking out over the bay. The puncture in her back had faded to a pink line.
    “This house is yours?”
    “It belonged to Carlos Marquez . . . a demon that I killed three decades ago.”
    This time, her grin twisted him up. Though he’d seen no harm in taking the demon’s house and assets, he’d thought she would disapprove.
    She turned curious eyes on him. “Why do you keep a house?”
    “Why do you keep a forge?”
    He didn’t expect an answer and didn’t receive one. Quietly, she studied the city across the bay.
    She probably saw it better than he did. Cádiz was a city of columns and arches, walls and gates. Alejandro was drawn by the city’s strong Moorish flavor, which had been most familiar to him as a human—but Rome’s powerful hand was still visible, and was the foundation on which the rest of the city had been built.
    Not unlike him, Alejandro thought. Though she’d been missing from his life for centuries, she’d shaped a significant part of it.
    She turned to him. “It is like Caelum, but with color.”
    And she saw the other half that shaped him—his Guardian life. “Unlike the tundra.”
    “The tundra is not always white.” She smiled slightly. “And it is solitary.”
    Except for once. Irena accepted visitors to her forge, but none of them stayed as long as Alejandro had.
    God. They weren’t even fighting, and the ache filled him. He didn’t want to feel this. Not this.
    The breeze teased her hair, lifting it away from her forehead. “But you are not always alone here. There was . . . Emilia.”
    “Yes.”
    She seemed to take a deep breath. He only recognized how false her smile was because he’d never seen her force one before.
    “She didn’t please you?”
    He stiffened. This was what friends did—they spoke of their lovers. He and Irena were not friends. And if this was what friendship meant, he did not want it. “She tired of me.”
    Irena began to laugh. His jaw locked. Abruptly, her laughter stopped.
    “You’re serious?”
    Off-balance, he stared at her. She’d thought he was joking? He hadn’t expected to be flattered by her disbelief that a woman would leave him—not flattered by the one woman he’d failed too badly to have.
    Reminded of that truth, Alejandro recovered. “Yes.”
    “What were her reasons? They could only be stupid.”
    “I didn’t give her the passion she needed.” Pleasure, yes. But Emilia was a woman who demanded more.
    Now Irena stared at him as if judging whether he were joking. “I’ve never seen you that you did not burn.”
    For you. He had little left over for the others.
    “Another man burned for Emilia. And so she left.” Flinging shoes and screaming. Alejandro’s calm acceptance had only made her angrier.
    “And you didn’t fight to keep her?”
    “No.”
    Irena looked away from him. “Then she wasn’t foolish to leave you.”
    If you stop fighting you should feel shame.
    The memory set his