Demon Night

hard. “Yeah. A few times, talking to Vladimir.”
    “When?”
    “About six months ago. Then he stopped coming around.”
    Ethan’s eyes narrowed. “You listen in on any of those conversations, Manny?”
    “Yeah,” the vampire said, and though Manny wasn’t moving, everything about him seemed twitchy as hell. “Mostly they talked about letting people know about us. And whether Katya and Vladimir would be willing to be the proof humans might need if the senator went public. He kept saying people deserved to know the truth.”
    Maybe so, but it’d likely unleash a commotion unlike people had ever seen. “Did they agree with him?”
    Manny hesitated. “No. And he stopped coming around after that.”
    Something wasn’t sitting right here. Ethan didn’t think Manny was lying—but he wasn’t telling the whole truth, either.
    “You know if money changed hands, Manny?”
    “I don’t know anything about that.”
    Ethan would have wagered that was a flat-out lie. “If it did, maybe as an incentive for Vladimir to help the senator out, you know of any reason he wouldn’t have given it back?”
    “Jesus, man—maybe Vladimir sold the guy some blood or something.”
    Maybe, but that didn’t sit right, either. If Vladimir hadn’t agreed exposure would be good for the vampire community, then he wouldn’t have been giving the senator evidence.
    Manny edged toward the door. “Drifter, man—I can feel the sun coming.”
    Ethan clenched his jaw in frustration, then nodded. “Go on then.”
    He watched the vampire scamper away. He’d take a few seconds to look around, but three months of living would have erased most of the evidence of the encounter with the nephil. He eyed the phone on the wall, then shook his head, frowning. San Francisco was just far enough south that the sun rose a couple of minutes later than in Seattle, but there wasn’t enough time to call Charlie and make sure she’d settled in before the daysleep hit.
    In any case, the one thing that’d settle Charlie more than any other was if he tracked down Jane, saw how she was getting on. There’d likely be a record of a hotel stay under her or Sammael’s name, as she wouldn’t be returning to the burned out house.
    Then he’d best be on to Caelum, for another long drift and searching through the Scrolls before he headed back to San Francisco.
    He frowned up at the sky as he left Manny’s house. The sun was just coming up, and he was already looking forward to sunset. He sure couldn’t go long without thinking of her, without wanting to hear her. Already, he was planning his day around when he’d be seeing her again.
    And that sounded awful similar to something Charlie wouldn’t want, something that might have her chewing her arm off to escape.
    He’d best be careful not to spook her; God knew, he’d rather chew off his own arm than send her running.

    The Gate to Caelum lay pretty much in a direct line between Seattle and San Francisco. Though Ethan usually kept over the ocean when making the long flight between the two cities—the better to keep from being seen—he veered inland to a forest clearing just outside of Ashland, Oregon.
    Though invisible, the Gate was a hum in his blood, and he could clearly sense its shape and position with a psychic probe. He dove through the shadows, and moved instantly from air rich with moisture, the scent of pine and dark soil, into Caelum’s bright and dry atmosphere.
    The sun shone against white marble, dazzling his eyes until he blinked and adjusted. Ethan swooped back up, above the tiled courtyards, skimming over a brilliant smooth dome. Caelum’s library was housed in an enormous temple near the center of the city.
    Scarce few Guardians walked below, and Ethan was the only one in the sky. Just fifteen years before, Caelum had been teeming with life; not so since the Ascension, when thousands of Guardians had chosen to move on to their afterlife.
    Most of those that remained in service—particularly the novices—had drawn in close to one another. And as they’d suddenly been without mentors, many Guardians had taken on one or two of the novices for training, knitting the groups even more tightly.
    Now that Castleford had taken over a good chunk of their training, it had loosened up. But not much—and Ethan reckoned not one Guardian who’d been in Caelum after the Ascension would ever forget the sudden, terrible silence that had fallen over the city.
    It made the hairs on the back