Demon Forged (21 page)

Irena loved Polidori’s. Loved the vampires that smelled of sex and blood, and the music that beat like a strong heart. She loved Hugh’s adopted sister, who barely knew how to hold a sword—and who, through sheer determination, had ripped out a demon’s throat less than a week after she’d been transformed. Irena even liked the vain, affected, irreverent, cursed, and dragon-tainted vampire Savi planned to marry.

A vampire who also happened to be Lilith’s best friend. Irena didn’t hold that against him.

Despite his numerous faults, Colin Ames-Beaumont
could
hold a sword. Could stand his ground with it, and damage anyone who crossed him. And she had to admire that Caesar himself probably hadn’t had Ames-Beaumont’s self-confidence . . . or his ego.

Unlike another vampire she knew. Her gaze settled on Deacon’s trapped expression, and she grinned. It widened when he turned his back to her.

She vanished her mantle as she reached the booth. Though she recognized the dark vampire on the other side of the table, she shoved in next to Deacon. He bumped against Rosalia, who braced herself against the curve of the seat. Irena’s apology to her was answered with a quiet laugh.

Irena half-turned toward Deacon, leaned her elbow on the table, and propped her jaw in her hand. “You’re an idiot. I told you to wait.”

“I chose not to listen.”

His pulse throbbed in his neck, his jaw was tense. Not trapped now, but angry. Maybe insulted.

Good. A man without pride couldn’t be insulted. So Deacon had a bit left.

The lights flickered before she could respond. Irena frowned, calling in a knife. When she saw Jake had teleported into the middle of the dance floor, Radha and Mariko at his sides, she vanished it again.

Ames-Beaumont muttered, “Bloody hell. Shall we just invite all of Caelum?”

“Oh,” Rosalia said on a quiet breath. Her eyes shone with moisture and joy radiated through her psychic scent. “Oh.”

Irena got out of the way, but Deacon wasn’t quick enough. Rosalia scooted over him, her ass dragging across his lap. He tensed. Looked pained and hungry, all at once. His gaze remained on Rosalia as she rushed out to meet her friends.

Interesting. He’d never looked at Eva or Petra like that.

Irena dropped into the seat again. Jake strolled over, toothpick lodged in the corner of his mouth, his hands in his pockets. Savi looked up at him, her brow creased. “Was that you? The lights?”

“Seems so.”

“Your second Gift?”

“Yep. Although I hope it turns out to be something a little better than making the power go on and off.” He rubbed his hand over his shaved head. “And that I’ll be able to control it soon, because computers haven’t been so great around me lately. You got my message about the church, and digging around in the financials?”

Savi shook her head. “Apparently, we don’t need to.”

“Why?”

“It was the community’s church. Her brother’s, apparently. Lorenzo Acciaioli.”

Jake sucked in his breath through his teeth.

Irena frowned. “Did he know she was there?”

“Knowing Acciaioli, there’s a damn good chance of that,” Deacon said.

“Yes,” Ames-Beaumont agreed.

Then he was better off dead. Irena glanced up at Jake again. “Were there any more nosferatu?”

“Nope, and it’s just past dawn there now. If there were, none came back to the catacombs. I’m heading back in a second; Alice is there by herself.” He looked around, to where the three Guardians were embracing in the center of the dance floor. Tears streaked Rosalia’s cheeks, but her smile could have lit the room. “I, uh, guess I’ll be back for them later so I don’t break up their reunion.”

Ames-Beaumont looked to Darkwolf. “A private room, I think.”

The vampire left the table. Jake glanced at Irena.

“One hell of a day, huh?”

“Yes.” She’d seen worse, but she couldn’t argue with his assessment. “Be safe.”

Though she felt the thrust of his teleporting Gift, the lights didn’t flicker when he disappeared. Then Savi laughed, her gaze on Irena’s hair.

She reached up. Static stood each strand on end.

“You need a ground,” Savi told her. “Try touching—”

Deacon hissed as Irena brushed her hand against his, and a painful spark arced between them. She yanked her hand back, shook out the sting. That discharge had been a lot stronger than she’d expected.

“I was going to say one of the metal pipes, but that works, too.” Savi leaned back into the cradle of Ames-Beaumont’s arm. “Deacon tells us he needs a partner.”

“And he will get one, eventually.” Irena met Deacon’s eyes and lowered her voice until the music covered it from anyone not at that table. “But until you find someone suitable, someone you
want
,” she stressed, “there are alternatives. I’ll give you the first here. The second, I’ll explain later . . . because there simply isn’t enough for everyone.”

She thought she saw understanding in his face. He couldn’t know that the alternative was demon blood from a
living
demon. But he’d have realized that if an alternative was available and word of it became public, every vampire unhappy with their blood-sharing partners would want it.

The Guardians’ supply was limited. Just one demon, who was bound in a bargain to give them a pint a day. That amount could feed one vampire, maybe two. Not more than that.

He said cautiously, “What is the first?”

She pulled a lead goblet out of her cache, used her Gift to expand the size of the bowl, and looked to Ames-Beaumont. “No humans are here?” She didn’t sense any, couldn’t smell any—but it was best to check.

“If there were, Hawkins’ disappearing act would have set them talking, don’t you think?”

Perhaps Jake’s teleporting hadn’t, but this probably would. She called in a nosferatu’s head between her palms. Blood dripped from its severed neck into the goblet. Savi’s eyes widened; Ames-Beaumont began laughing.

There were other noises, gasps. Soon, all of the community would know that a Guardian had given Deacon nosferatu blood. That he was unique among them. And when his shock had passed, Deacon would realize that the community knew of it, too.

“Jesus Christ,” Deacon said. “You expect me to drink that?”

Despite his words, his gaze was fixed on the blood. The scent was thick, and because it was nosferatu, strong and dark. The other two vampires didn’t appear as affected—but then, they’d probably fed from each other already.

Irena squeezed, hoping to get the blood running faster. Some had drained out onto the ossuary floor before she’d vanished the head. That spilled blood was in her cache, too, but mixed with dirt. At least this was clean.

“It’s dead blood, so even though it will suppress the bloodlust, it won’t feed you for long.” Too many days without living blood and vampires became weak and stupid. “But it might make you stronger.”

Need flared in Deacon’s eyes and was quickly covered. “I’ve never heard that.”

“Neither have I,” Ames-Beaumont put in.

“That is because, as far as I know, no vampire has ever drunk a significant amount of blood from a nosferatu. Have you heard of such?”

All of them shook their heads.

“That is why I said
might
.” With two fingers, Irena ripped out the nosferatu’s tongue, vanished it, and poured more blood from its mouth. Savi half-laughed, half-moaned, and covered her eyes. “But even if it doesn’t do anything, drinking this won’t hurt you.”

“What makes you think
might
?” Deacon asked.

“Jake,” Irena said simply. “He has had two transformations, and has become as strong and as fast as a Guardian four times his age. Vampire blood and nosferatu blood are the only bloods that transform. If you, a vampire already, drink vampire blood . . .” She lifted her shoulder. “No difference. But if it is this? Perhaps it will.”

Savi peeked through her fingers. After a brief hesitation, she said, “Colin and I . . . I am not as strong as he is, but I
am
stronger than when I first began drinking his blood. There was a difference. Some of the changes—like the additional strength—have been slow. Other changes were immediate.”

Such as both of them being able to see Chaos in a mirror, instead of just the cursed and tainted Ames-Beaumont being able to. Such as having a strong anchor to Chaos—strong enough that no one but Michael could teleport them anywhere without ending up in that realm.

Irena would not have referred even vaguely to how Ames-Beaumont’s blood had affected Savi, but she was grateful that Savi had made mention of it. Even if the blood did not strengthen Deacon, it might give the vampire confidence—however false—until he regained his own.

“There, you see? It is not the same, but it is similar.”

Deacon nodded at the goblet. “Will that much do it?”

Irena frowned. “I would know that, how? I have just told you it has not been done before. It is enough to transform a human to vampire, but a vampire to . . .
more
vampire?” She shrugged. “But even if it does not have an immediate effect, I have three nosferatu—two raw, one cooked. The blood of all three is yours if you wish to keep trying.”

He apparently did. When she slid the goblet toward him, he reached for it.

Savi moved at the same time, lifting her arm to greet someone, her smile a bright, warm curve. “Andy. Sit with us.”

Irena glanced up, and didn’t conceal her surprise. “Detective Taylor.”

Off-duty, obviously. The scent of coffee and stale cigarettes clung to the officer’s jeans, her black leather jacket, her hair. If possible, she looked more tired and drawn that she had that morning. Her gaze fell to the nosferatu’s head clutched between Irena’s hands.

She didn’t blink, didn’t blanch. After a brief pause, she looked up at Savi again.

“Join us, detective,” Ames-Beaumont said, his voice smooth and amused. “And if you’d like to become a vampire—a nosferatu-born one, which I assure you is the very best kind—our winged friend Irena can assist you.”

“Thanks, but no.” Taylor looked over at Deacon, who was steadily drinking from the goblet, and took a seat next to Savi.

“Are you here officially?” Ames-Beaumont asked.

“Semi-officially.”

“Which means not officially at all.”

“Colin.” Savi nudged him with her elbow. “What’s up?”

Taylor’s gaze remained on Ames-Beaumont. “I need to know where you were this afternoon.”

Because Ames-Beaumont was the one vampire who
could
have been at the courthouse that afternoon. Irena knew it hadn’t been Colin—the scent had been human—but the shooter had been
so
obviously human that she hadn’t thought to tell Taylor that. She’d never imagined the detective might consider other possibilities.

Intrigued, Irena looked at Taylor more closely. It took guts to come into a vampire’s club and ask him to prove he didn’t kill a human woman.

“Around noon, I imagine?” Obviously, the vampire knew why Taylor had asked, but Irena couldn’t tell if he was insulted or amused. “I was in my daysleep from dawn until just after sunset.”

“Can anyone verify that?”

That irritated him. His brows lifted very slightly.

“I was with him,” Savi said. “We went to bed together.”

“That’s not an alibi. You might as well be dead during the day. He isn’t.”

Ames-Beaumont sighed. “Pray tell me why I would try to kill the congressman?”

“Because he is a demon,” Irena said, vanishing the nosferatu head and the smears of blood from her fingers. She glanced up to find them all looking at her. “That is reason enough for
me
.”

Taylor smiled, then pinched the bridge of her nose. “Look,” she said. “A human died, so Guardians are out as suspects, and so are demons. Daytime means nosferatu and vampires are out. If the murderer wasn’t a human, you’re the only one who could have done it.”

She’d ruled out a demon killing Julia Stafford, because the nephilim hadn’t come to enforce the Rules and slay the demon. Neither had it been a Guardian, because Michael had not asked any of them to Fall or Ascend.

How did Taylor know that much about them?

“No,” Ames-Beaumont said. “I am just the only one who wouldn’t have been punished already for it.”

“Either way.” Taylor spread her hands. “The FBI grabbed the investigation, not SI. And the feds won’t know to look your way, or any other way. But if it’s a human, they’ll know how to go after him.”

“So asking me will serve what purpose? Easing your mind?”

“I’m just trying to cover the bases that they can’t.”

Why had Lilith never recruited this one for SI? Irena leaned forward, began to ask—and to tell her that SI
would
be taking over part of the investigation—but Ames-Beaumont apparently decided to relent.

“Sir Pup was guarding our house while Savi and I were in our daysleep. He can verify that I was there.”

Oh, he could not be serious. But with one look, Irena realized that he was. Her laughter burst from her in a howl. She fell back, clutching her stomach.

Taylor rubbed her hand over her face. “You want to use Lilith’s
dog
for an alibi?”

“He’s perfectly capable of answering your questions.” Ames-Beaumont glanced at Deacon, whose perplexed expression set Irena off again. “Sir Pup is a hellhound, not a dog.”

Deacon’s expression didn’t clear. “A hellhound?”

“Big,” Taylor told him. “With three heads and teeth like this.” She held her hands about six inches apart. “Scary as hell.”

“And it guards you on the days you sleep?” Deacon’s face lost all expression.

“Yes.”

Irena sat up, wiped her eyes. “I can verify that Sir Pup wasn’t with Lilith today. And also that the shooter smelled human.”

Taylor nodded, and exhaled slowly. Exhaustion seemed to settle over her. Savi reached out, touched her arm.