Demon Night

envy, though. She’s an odd kind of pretty.”
    Only the knowledge that Lilith might shoot him kept Ethan from shaking his head in disbelief and observing that women were far more critical of each other than a man ever would be. Even upside-down and flattened by the photo, Charlie’s wide-spaced, heavy-lidded brown eyes, her translucent skin, her plump upper lip, and small, slightly crooked teeth called to the most basic urges in a man: to haul her off to bed and put that mouth to good use, to see her eyes darken and skin flush.
    “What about singing?” Jake tossed a silvery compact disc on top of Charlie’s picture, and Lilith picked it up. “I don’t know anything about this kind of music, and most of her performances took place before newspapers and trade magazines began archiving their reviews online—but those I could find said she was some kind of vocal prodigy out of Juilliard.”
    Lilith stood, pressed a button on a remote, and a console slid out of the wall. Ethan watched the player suck the disc in, then frowned at Jake. “Where’d you come up with that?”
    “Bit torrents. Savi told me about file sharing a couple of months ago, but I only began downloading music last week. And since I was scouring papers for Charlie’s info anyway, I looked it up. This was a charity benefit at the Metropolitan Opera in New York, with several other performers—you want track eight,” he said when a male began belting an Italian tune that Ethan had first heard when he was human.
    Lilith skipped through the CD and, as the initial strains filtered through the speakers, announced, “It’s from Lucia di Lammermoor .” She caught Jake’s look and rolled her eyes. “I was a demon, not a Neanderthal. And the most interesting people have always been the politicians, artists, and poets. She’s performing the mad scene from the third act, which means she’s a bit of a showoff, but a confident one. It’s a difficult—” She silenced herself by pressing her lips together when the singing began. She cocked her head, closed her eyes.
    Ethan looked away, stared at the thick-piled rug beneath his boots. He’d listened to enough of Charlie’s music collection to recognize a fine voice. Her soprano was light and high—but with a strength that swelled through him, left him full of its sound. And pure, he realized—most regular folks and professional singers had rough edges in their voices, edges that had become more apparent with his enhanced hearing. He’d heard nothing this clear since he’d become a Guardian.
    Nothing human, leastwise. A voice like that belonged in Caelum—was what he imagined filled the realm before the Guardians had taken it from the angels.
    “Fuck me,” Lilith said after a moment. She returned to her seat without lowering the volume. “ That’s a gift. Unlocking doors is kid’s play next to that. And you said she got off easy? If she lost that voice because of her own stupidity it’s no wonder she hit a downward spiral.” She looked up at Ethan. “Is she drinking?”
    Charlie trilled through a series of quick, high notes that had his gut clenching, his fists tightening. It took a second before he could say, “No. Not a bit.”
    “But she’s bartending. Classic self-flagellation: it serves as punishment because it’s a constant reminder, and the temptation of the drink is its own pain—but she tells herself that her resistance just means she’s the stronger for it. Maybe that’s why the demons haven’t touched her; she’s doing just fine tormenting herself.”
    “If their goal was torture, I’d reckon you were correct. But they don’t send in vampires for that.”
    Lilith nodded, her gaze thoughtful. “Let’s assume there’s nothing about Charlie herself that would have made them hold off, because she doesn’t have this voice anymore. But they did, and there had to be a reason for them—or the demon pulling their strings—to change their mind, and her only link to Legion is her sister. Tell me how they came at her.”
    “During her break. They knew to find her on the roof.”
    “You’ve been keeping an eye on her for two months now. Did they come around Cole’s before?”
    “No. Not the evenings I was watching.” If they had, Ethan would’ve gotten answers from them long ago. “But Charlie calls Jane most every night.”
    “So you think that’s what tipped them off to her routine. Who tipped them off,” Lilith said.
    “Jane?” Jake shook his head. “I