Demon Night

underneath the vehicle, and then—by all accounts—lifting it and tossing it over the side of a bridge. And, somehow, that same vehicle, which disappeared from the scene at the bridge, being involved in an arson fire at the home of a wealthy medical researcher.” She extended her leg, glanced down at the toe of her boot. “This should be a mile up your ass right now, but I haven’t had to come up with so many lies so quickly in decades. So I’m having far too much fun.”
    “ Far too much,” Castleford echoed dryly. “She’s had the novices claiming to be eyewitnesses, and they’re feeding bloggers, reporters, and the investigators so many conflicting accounts that no one will be able to piece together the truth of what happened. Fortunately, we’ve only seen one photo so far, taken from a cell phone—you on top of the SUV, but no wings or guns.”
    “You look ridiculous,” Lilith said. “Like something out of a bad action movie, so we’re playing that angle, too—kids making a home video, an unauthorized film shoot—though it would have been better if you’d been wearing a hat. And we’ll buy costume wings, toss them into the lake. Maybe a hang glider, too, because we’ve been running with that on the personal blogs. And speaking of movies…”
    She trailed off and looked at Castleford, who crossed the room and sat against the front of her desk. Ethan had difficulty seeing the young, monkish Guardian he’d known in the human man before him, but the patience in Castleford’s gaze and the deliberation which underpinned Castleford’s every movement were as familiar to Ethan as the weight of his holsters, the heft of his wings.
    Michael had transformed Ethan, but this man had made him a Guardian.
    And the concern he read in Castleford’s psychic scent worried him more than Lilith’s grin. One, that it was there—and two, that Castleford was letting him read it.
    Castleford held Ethan’s gaze and asked, “How is Charlotte Newcomb?”
    “She’s adjusting. But she’s a vampire, and she’d rather not be,” Ethan said quietly.
    Lilith sat up, turning her computer monitor to face him. “Savi called us directly before dawn, told us she’d just taken a look at this video, then sent it to us by e-mail. It’s copied to you, so it’ll be in your inbox, as well.”
    The images were from the security feed from the front of the lake house. Jane’s car arriving, the vampire streaking out of the shadows. The angle changing as Savi chose the feed from another camera, and Charlie was trying to crawl past Sammael into the house, then being forced toward the SUV.
    Castleford slid on his glasses, tilting his head as he studied the monitor. “She chooses her hits well—going for the least expected and the most impact in vulnerable points—and she learns quickly what doesn’t work.” He paused. “Did she fight all the way?”
    “Yes.” Ethan watched with his hands clenched, his jaw set. When it looped back to Jane’s car driving in, he managed to say, “Fought the vampire, leastwise. She chose the transformation at the end, but only because she didn’t want to die.”
    Castleford frowned, glanced at the video again. “When the choice is between life and death, it’s a fine line between free will and force. Sammael must have known that she’d choose the change, that she’d force herself to drink.”
    “He was good: the setup, the vampire,” Lilith said, then turned off the monitor. “But it shouldn’t have happened.”
    “No,” Ethan said, his voice rough.
    Castleford turned to Ethan. “Lilith and I can speak with Jake, or you can.”
    Ethan’s brows drew together, and he glanced between them. “You’re putting this on Jake ?”
    “No.” Lilith frowned, and laid her hand on Sir Pup’s neck when the dog lifted one of his giant heads from his forepaws. “Newcomb was yours. We’re putting it on you—all of it, including Jake.”
    “And everything we have to say to him would be more meaningful coming from you,” Castleford said.
    Well, damn. Ethan pulled the sides of his jacket back, hooked his thumbs in his suspenders, and studied their faces. “Does this mean I’m mentoring him again?”
    Lilith offered a demure smile that Ethan figured was pure evil. “Only demons Punish their own kind. Guardians are too good at punishing themselves when they fuck up. Any attempt to top that guilt is an exercise in futility.”
    Castleford slanted her a wry look before glancing back at