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acknowledging Irena’s clarification. “Michael asked Lilith to head the agency. She spent almost two decades working for the FBI, and so she was most qualified for the position here.” He pulled off his spectacles and began to clean them against his shirt before adding, “And I’m with her, Rosalia. Not just here at SI.”
    Rosalia’s brows rose in surprise before she smiled. “You always had a soft spot for her.”
    Irena curled her lip. “And do we also love Rael?”
    Alejandro sighed. “We could not do this without the access we are afforded by the American government.”
    “Yes, we could—”
    “Could not do it as easily .” His fingers clenched at his sides.
    “You don’t know Rael’s motive.”
    “No, we don’t,” Alejandro admitted.
    “Do you believe it’s in our interest?”
    “Do you believe we’re blind to his nature?”
    “So you get in bed with a demon because it’s easier.” Irena sneered up at him. “It is sickening.”
    Alejandro faced her, his silken voice deceptively mild. A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I thought you’d understand this, Irena. The Ascension has put a knife to our throat.”
    Irena’s breath left her in a rush. She took a step back, then another.
    But it lay unspoken between them: Olek wasn’t the one who had chosen to get into bed with a demon.
    And she could still see the blade that had been against his throat.
    The only way to stop the pain and anger crushing her chest would be to cut out her heart—and so she did now the same thing she’d done then.
    She left. She didn’t look back.

CHAPTER 4
    Always, everything went back to his misstep. Back to that blood-spattered room.
    With regret digging a hole in his chest, Alejandro listened to the door close behind Irena. Only his will prevented him from succumbing to his need to follow her.
    His will versus his need. For centuries, they’d battled each other. One day, he knew, either his will or his need would crumble into nothing. He didn’t know which it would be.
    And he didn’t know which he wanted it to be.
    But even if he went after her, nothing more could be said. On the matter of demons, Irena was as capable of compromising as an armless man was capable of holding a sword. The only outcome would be more anger, and sharp words, and another return to the room he’d burned four hundred years ago.
    And he still wouldn’t be certain if it was her stubbornness that infuriated him, or the knowledge that she was right: It was sickening that the Guardians collaborated with a demon.
    But the Ascension had put a knife to their throats. Though the Gates to Hell were closed, hundreds of demons remained on Earth—far more than there were Guardians. Given a few decades, the Guardians could gather resources, technology, and the human and vampire staff that would bolster the Guardians’ small numbers, forming an organization that served the same function as Special Investigations. Given a few decades, Michael could find and transform more humans into Guardians. Given a few more decades, those Guardians could be trained and ready to fight demons.
    They didn’t have decades, however. And so they’d revealed themselves to a select few within the American government, and been forced to pick their battles with demons—Rael in particular. Irena would have the Guardians slay every demon openly, if necessary—but if the demons felt threatened and presented a united front, it’d likely be a Pyrrhic victory for the Guardians . . . assuming it was a victory.
    Alejandro wasn’t ready to make that assumption.
    The anger drained from him, as did the heat from his skin. Fortunately, his Gift didn’t manifest as color in his face—and although Castleford and Rosalia watched, they likely didn’t know how much Irena’s leaving bothered him.
    Or so he preferred to believe. Maybe they would believe it, too. “I apologize. Irena and I have been friends long enough that we no longer spare our tongues.”
    Perhaps Castleford,