that—she’d left Caelum behind several times. Leaving didn’t mean she wouldn’t hunt nosferatu or protect humans from demons; she just didn’t seek out other Guardians.
The last time had been after she’d made a bargain with a demon who had copied Alejandro’s face.
She met his eyes. They’d darkened to black. Yes, he was remembering, as well.
Shame burned; she looked away before he saw it, and forced her thoughts back to Rosalia.
If Rosalia had told her friends she was leaving, that explained why no one had been looking for her. And so she hadn’t necessarily been in the catacombs for as long as she’d been missing from Caelum.
“What date is your last memory of Rome?” Irena asked.
“It was July of 2007.”
A year and a half ago. “And after the Gates were closed,” Irena said, frowning. After Lucifer’s nest of nosferatu had been sent to Chaos realm, and Lucifer had been locked in Hell. So Lucifer couldn’t have captured Rosalia for the nosferatu.
Rosalia stopped rubbing her arms. “The Gates are closed? The Gates to Caelum ?”
Hugh shook his head. “The Gates to Hell. Lucifer made a bargain with a group of nosferatu. They were slaying humans. Performing rituals.”
Rosalia studied his face. “Humans close to you,” she guessed.
“Students of mine,” Hugh confirmed. “Michael made a wager with Lucifer—and Michael won. Lucifer is bound to keep Hell’s Gates closed for the next five hundred years. That was in May of 2007.”
“But there were demons who escaped Hell before the Gates closed,” Alejandro said. “Several hundred.”
“There were some in Rome.” Rosalia swallowed. “That is the last I remember—coming across a group of demons in the catacombs.”
Hugh frowned. “Are you certain? A group of demons—not nosferatu?”
“Yes.”
“Lucifer’s demons or Belial’s?”
“I don’t know. Does it matter?”
“No,” Irena said.
“Yes.” Alejandro’s reply smoothed over hers.
Hugh leaned back in his chair. “In August of last year, Michael and Selah killed seven demons in Rome. Michael told me that he couldn’t find you then, but we thought you must have been shielding.”
Even Michael couldn’t teleport to someone if they completely shielded their psyche. With the iron spike through her head, Rosalia hadn’t been shielded—she’d simply not been there.
“The demons are dead?” Rosalia’s voice was even, but wrath burned through her psychic scent. Wrath—and disappointment.
Was she hoping to avenge herself? Irena approved. “Yes,” she said. “But only those ones. There are others to kill, and demons are all the same.”
“That isn’t true,” Alejandro said. “There are those who follow Lucifer, and those who support Belial in his rebellion against Lucifer—”
“You split hairs again. Demons, nosferatu—the Guardians’ only purpose is to slay them. You create a meaningless difference so that you do not feel dishonored by being here. Here, where you are supported” —Irena let the full force of her anger turn the word into an accusation—“by one of Belial’s demons.”
Alejandro’s profile was a rigid mask. “Our purpose is to protect humans.”
“By killing demons.”
“Even those demons who can be useful to our purpose?”
“Yes.”
On the bed, Rosalia tore her wide-eyed gaze from them and looked to Hugh. “Dru said Michael created Special Investigations so that we’d have a human avenue when we need one. That you are training the novices here . . . with Lilith.”
Hugh smiled slightly. “Lilith has Fallen—or rather, the demon equivalent of Falling. She’d only been a halfling demon: A human changed by a ritual,” he added when Rosalia’s brow creased.
“A willing ritual,” Irena said.
It wasn’t as if Lilith had been forced to become a demon; she’d had a choice. And given the options of serving Lucifer or death, Irena would’ve chosen much differently than Lilith had.
Hugh inclined his head,
Andrew Cartmel
Mary McCluskey
Marg McAlister
Julie Law
Stan Berenstain
Heidi Willard
Jayden Woods
Joy Dettman
Connie Monk
Jay Northcote