Demon Forged

then set her fork down next to her half-finished pasta.
    Irena continued eating. Always, with food, she wanted to savor it—and also wanted to devour it as quickly as possible. She kept a steady pace as Taylor called Preston and left a message for him, updating their progress.
    “They must still be in with Rael’s staff.” Taylor put away her phone. “You were pissed in Lilith’s office this morning. Why?”
    Irena snorted. “Which time?”
    “When they were going through Cordoba’s assignments. Do you think they’ve loaded too much on him?”
    Irena had to laugh. At Taylor’s questioning look, she said, “No. And I wasn’t angry; I was envious. I have a territory, I check in on the vampire communities and slay any demons that I come across, but my numbers are nothing like Olek’s. Cordoba’s.”
    Taylor’s brow creased. “So Lilith was just sticking it to you?”
    Irena didn’t know if Lilith or Alejandro had thought of going over his assignments in front of her. It was something both would do. And it was both challenge and declaration, though a subtle one: If Irena would be visiting SI more frequently, then they would use her.
    “They know I want more to do. But I am stubborn, and Lilith or Ol—Cordoba will give me assignments in another way.”
    “You don’t seem the type to take orders from Lilith.”
    Her stomach heaved at the thought. “Not orders. Information, which I choose to act upon.”
    She wouldn’t ignore it, just as she wouldn’t have ignored Deacon’s request even if she hadn’t known the vampire.
    “You won’t work for SI?”
    “No.” Irena lost her humor. “Not with Rael behind it.”
    Taylor nodded and her gaze fell to Irena’s empty plate. “The sniper rifle was a semiautomatic. No one knows we found the weapon; that info wasn’t released. And Wren might have said all that shit just to throw us off—to make it look like she’s trying to help us, when really she’s just covering her own ass—but there’s also another option: The guy only shot once because he didn’t miss. Then you’ve got the appearance of an attempted assassination on the congressman, which I bet he can spin to the voters a million ways, but the wife was always the real target. No one looks at Rael because, well, he was shot, too. And even if someone does, no jury is going to buy that he put himself in the line of fire. Not unless everyone finds out he’s a demon . . . but if that happens it all goes to hell, doesn’t it?”
    Irena regarded her quietly. “You would make a fine Guardian.”
    “Oh, good. Even if we nail him on the evidence at some point, he’s not going down for it—but it’s all right because I’d look great with wings and leather garter belts and thigh-highs. Lifetime goal, achieved.”
    Irena continued looking at her, wondering about the vampire Khavi had predicted—and if, instead of wings, fangs would be in Taylor’s future. Had Khavi mentioned death? Or had Michael—and Irena—just assumed it?
    Not that it mattered. They would change whatever fate it was. No human should be transformed against their will.
    The detective sighed. “Shit. No offense.”
    “I took none.”
    Taylor checked her watch. “We’re due at Rael’s place in twenty. How do I go after him?”
    A demon who’d lived as a saint? Who had made creating the appearance of a good man the work of a human’s lifetime? Irena thought it over as she finished off the bread.
    “Do not go after him,” she decided. “Question him as if it never occurred to you that he might be behind his wife’s assassination.”
    “Why?”
    “There is a demon beneath the man he shows to everyone. One who wants credit for what he did. If he did it. And even if he did not, he will at least expect that we suspect him. Or that you do. If I do not, he will suspect us .” Irena stopped, realizing that she was heading into a circle and confusing herself; planning a deception did not fit her well. She barged through on the course she wanted. “But when you do not do the same—act as if you suspect him—his ego and his pride will be damaged. It might lead him to act in a way where he exposes himself.”
    “Do you think he’d be that careless?”
    “No.”
    Taylor fell into another of her silences as Irena paid for their lunch with one of the credit cards Olek had given her. As they headed back to the car, she felt Taylor’s sudden tension.
    “Someone’s in the back seat of my car.”
    Irena recognized the