Demon Forged

She’d have to remember to watch her words, to smooth away her own accent.
    She said carefully, “Good morning.”
    He smiled again as he approached her. His steps were still quiet. She glanced down and saw that his shoes were like any other man’s on top, but the soles were soft and supple.
    “Lilith is still negotiating with Captain Jorgenson, Taylor’s superior. We will be delayed past seven.”
    She already missed the music of his native tongue. “What was decided?”
    “A multiagency task force. But Taylor is not the police department’s first choice, so Lilith is applying pressure.” His voice deepened. “You still have the smell of the hunt on you.”
    “It was a good one,” she said, and watched his gaze slide down her form.
    He stopped within an arm’s length. “You’ll need to change.”
    Yes. Irena closed her eyes and tried to picture the right clothing. Something like Taylor’s. But she could not focus on the details of buttons, of seams. She could only think of Olek, there in front of her. He had the scent of the flame upon him. Of smoke and heat.
    “Irena.” He passed beside her, and laid a booklet on the conference table, open to a flagged page. “If you need a visual.”
    She joined him at the table and recognized a clothes catalog. “You carry this with you?”
    “No. Lilith asked Selah for it.” He tugged on the side of her brief shirt, his fingertips skimming her waist. A shiver raced over her skin. “She has only seen you in this and thought you might need the help.”
    “And she gave it to you to pass on?”
    “I believe Lilith wished to make sure Selah was not harmed in the delivery.”
    Irena laughed, then turned to study the catalog. She visualized trousers, a jacket, a white shirt. She vanished her clothes and replaced them with the newly created ones. Alejandro’s shoes served as the model for hers.
    His eyes darkened as his gaze lifted from her face to her hair. His brows rose. She knew what he was asking. The style should be smoother—and better suited to the occupation.
    She pushed her fingers through the strands until there were no more tangles. That would have to do. Her gaze dared him to argue. He didn’t, but he didn’t back away, either. “And these are for you.”
    She took the identification, credit cards, and wallet that appeared in his hand. Her picture had been altered so that she wore the appropriate clothing and hair. Irena’s gaze skipped over most of the data, and she didn’t try to make sense of it. She searched for her name, instead.
    “Irena Steele ?” They could not be serious.
    Humor flashed through Olek’s eyes again. “Savi’s idea. Your title is special agent , but aside from introductions, we will use surnames.”
    “And what name do you use?”
    “Alec Cordoba.”
    The name fit him, she thought. Not perfectly, but there was some of this agent in him that felt right. She looked down at the identification again. She ran her thumb over the delicate, looping signature, trying to see it as hers. She could not. Her writing was blunt, heavy.
    Uncertainty fluttered low in her gut. Investigation wasn’t the same as protection, or even a hunt. Hunting required similar stealth and cunning—but there were few rules to heed while hunting, and no need for a delicate touch.
    “You won’t have the lead in this.”
    She glanced up. Alejandro must have read either her face or her psychic scent. Reading his in turn was difficult, but a note of apology had filtered through his voice.
    Had he thought she’d be disappointed? In almost every battle they’d fought together, she’d taken the lead. But this wasn’t her usual battle, and her skills were better suited for backup and support. She saw no shame in taking the rear and keeping a quiet tongue. Her blade was still sharp.
    She vanished the wallet. “If you had put me in as lead, I would’ve named you an idiot.”
    “And I would have lied and said that Lilith made the decision.”
    His dry response pulled a short laugh from her. His forefinger stroked down the center of his clean-shaven chin in a gesture as sensuous as it was familiar.
    “What do you wonder, Olek?”
    The wry smile in his eyes told her he had many questions, but he limited himself to one. “The novices heard you were the first to make a vampire. Several have come to me, asking about the story. I had nothing to tell them.”
    The novices had gone to him? Because she and Alejandro were well known as friends . Perhaps