Angels of Darkness

was shocked by it, too, needed some reassurance of her own.”

And now his granddaughter was more interested in becoming a Guardian. That explained the training, then, and the books they’d been reading at Perk’s Palace—and how Miklia had become friends with the girls she’d once called the Brainless Bitches. Jessica must have shared the truth with Ines and Lynn, too.

“Not that it matters now,” Brand continued. “They’ve both lost any connection to the community—Miklia to her brother, and Jess to . . .” The lines in the old man’s face deepened. “You saw the remains? You’re sure it was him?”

“We found his ring.”

At Marc’s mention of it, Radha called Bronner’s ring and his partner’s jewelry into her palm from her cache. She carefully wiped them free of ash before showing them to Brand.

With watery eyes, the man nodded. “That’s his. So let’s try to find out who did this.”

He led them into a small examination room. Concrete floors, a long metal table, instruments, and recorders. Paperwork covered a small desk. Brand must have already finished his examination. All that remained was the smell of blood, death, and disinfectant.

“Were you able to identify the woman?”

Brand nodded. “Marnie Weaver. She’s a local. My grandfather paid her to come in twice a week, and she has been for the past twenty years. Nice girl—woman now. I’ve known her since she was just a young one. She never asked questions, but I don’t know. Maybe she’d figured it all out.”

“Were you able to get a fix on the time of death?”

“Not the time you’re looking for. Sunrise this morning was at seven-oh-four. Considering how cold my grandfather always kept the house, I’d put it anywhere between six and eight.”

Damn it. That time couldn’t tell him definitively whether a vampire or human had been responsible. But he realized Brand had more to tell him.

The old man sank into a chair, heaved a sigh. “A neighbor saw her car pulling up to the house this morning, though. At seven thirty.”

After the sun had risen. Marc glanced at Radha, saw the dismay in her eyes. A human, then. Someone that he and Radha couldn’t physically catch or kill—someone they couldn’t even touch if the person didn’t want to be touched. Not without breaking the Rules. Exposing that person, however . . . that they could do. As soon as they knew who the hell it was.

Unfortunately, Marc thought he did know.

“I know what that means.” Brand looked from Marc to Radha. “It wasn’t a vampire hoping to take over the community. Tell me that you’ll catch this demon bastard.”

A demon couldn’t have done it, either. “If a demon killed this woman, he’s already be dead,” Marc said. Rosalia and Deacon would have slain him by now—but they’d also have let Marc know they’d been here. “Do you have any idea who else might have known about the vampire community?”

“Anyone else . . . you mean, people?”

“A human, yes.”

Brand sat speechless for a moment, shaking his head. “No. Everyone who knows, they’re related to the vampires by blood. They have just as much reason to protect any vampires here.”

“All right,” Marc said. If the man didn’t want to see, he wouldn’t—especially if that meant looking at his own blood. “You’ve helped me. Thank you.”

Brand nodded. “I hope you’re wrong about it not being a demon.”

Marc hoped he was, too.

The last time Radha had visited a morgue, she’d been with a novice Guardian-in-training. She’d managed to fill a room with zombies and frighten the poor boy half to death before he’d realized they were illusions. If she told Marc later, he’d probably laugh.

Not now, though. That weary expression came over him again, the burdens of the world. They exited through the receiving door, into the dark, icy parking lot. Without a word, he formed his wings and launched up—but didn’t go far. He landed on the roof of the nearby courthouse, standing at the edge to look down at the empty street below. Radha landed next to him.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” he said.

He didn’t have to explain. She took his hand, loving the strong, warm clasp of his fingers. “Using a stake to kill a vampire is the mark of a demon trying to set a scene . . . or the act of someone who doesn’t know what the hell they’re doing. It’s difficult, inefficient.”

“They learned quickly, though. All the others, killed while they were sleeping, then dragged into the sun.” Jaw clenched, as if he still wanted to deny it, Marc shook his head. “Miklia was late to school yesterday morning. You remember Sam mentioning that?”

“Yes.”

“Late because they were killing vampires, killing a woman. And not a one of them walked out of the school looking like they killed anyone that morning, even accidentally. Did they?”

No. And that was disturbing. They’d shown no remorse, no guilt, or any other emotion. With the vampires, Radha could understand it, a little. She didn’t feel remorse or guilt for slaying demons. They were evil, pure and simple.

The girls must have believed the same thing about vampires—even though those vampires had been one of their brothers, their grandfathers.

Somewhere, they’d gotten the truth twisted around. Maybe a book they’d read, something they’d overheard, a movie or television show they’d seen. Maybe they’d heard of a vampire like the one who’d killed Radha, and that convinced them. Maybe when they discovered that the Guardians’ mission was to slay demons and to protect humans, they mixed it all up, thought vampires were the demons, or that the vampires were possessed. Something.

Whatever it was, they’d taken it too far.

She gently squeezed his hand. “We both know how belief can be warped, so that people think they’re doing something good—when in reality, they’re just destroying other good people.” Guardians and vampires were basically the same as they’d been before their transformations. Their personalities didn’t change; only their abilities did. “But to kill a woman, and not feel any remorse—that means they feel justified destroying anything standing in their way. And it’ll happen again.”

“I know,” Marc said. “And if it had just been the vampires—hell, it’s not right—but I’d have just set them straight about vampires, make them understand who they killed . . . and then make them live with what they’d done.”

“Maybe not punishment enough, but still punishment.” And if the other option was turning the girls over to the vampire community, and letting them dispense justice or punishment . . .

That wasn’t even an option. Maybe in some circumstances. Not this one.

“Yes,” he agreed. “But for what they did to Marnie Weaver, that’s not our decision to make.”

No, it wasn’t. That was for the human courts to decide, and he knew this territory and the law of the land better than she did. “What will you do?”

“Most likely, I won’t have to do anything. There will be evidence. Someone will have seen the Cherokee. The girls will have left a fingerprint. There’s no chance that four teenagers got in and out of there without leaving some kind of trace. So I’ll wait. I’ll head back to Riverbend and keep an eye on them, make certain they don’t slay any more vampires. And if it seems like the sheriff isn’t getting anywhere in the investigation, I’ll point him that way. Maybe send him those text transcripts when SI puts them together.”

“That’s probably the best way.” Radha rose up onto her toes, softly kissed his mouth. “This is one of the harder ones. It’s not just the vampires, not just a woman—those four kids threw their lives away, too.”

He nodded, focusing on her lips. Maybe thinking of the kiss she’d just given him so easily. “You have to go back?”

“Not right away. Rosalia and Mariko are covering the news for me. Nothing has popped up yet.”

And that was the most efficient way of hunting most demons. They stumbled across some demons, so regular patrols around a territory were necessary, but almost all of the other demons Radha found came from a