Demon Marked

knew about demons.”

“I notice they aren’t helping you now.”

“Because they’re dead.”

That grief must have slipped through his emotional shields, or Ash heard something in his voice. She looked away from the road, studied his face. “What happened?”

“A demon ripped them apart.”

Sally and Gerald had known some information about demons, but they hadn’t known a lot. Like many vampires, they were mostly ignorant of their origins, having heard only bits and pieces of the truth about Guardians and demons, but not the whole story. So they’d known enough to capture a demon, to take it down alive, but hadn’t known enough to keep it down.

“How long did you work with them?”

“Three years, off and on. Sometimes they went into other vampire communities and gathered information.” And other times, they’d worked together with him—Nicholas making certain their sleeping forms were secure when the sun rose, and then training with and learning from them by night. “I met Rosalia after that.”

When she’d slain the demon who’d butchered Gerald and Sally. Still, that demon’s death hadn’t been enough of a punishment. Not after Nicholas had seen what it had done to his friends.

Nicholas had been going it alone since then. He wouldn’t ask any other humans or vampires to risk their lives in pursuit of his revenge, and he sought help from Rosalia only because she could take care of herself—as she’d aptly demonstrated by beheading a demon several times stronger and faster than she was. One moment Nicholas had seen Rosalia and her partner facing the demon, and the next moment she’d been bleeding from her gut and the demon’s head had been rolling across the floor.

“Rosalia is the Guardian?” Ash asked.

“Yes. And because that’s what Guardians do—hunt demons—she had more information about how to find them.”

“And how do you?”

“The most obvious sign is the temperature of their skin.”

Ash rubbed the tips of her fingers together, as if feeling the heat of her own skin and considering that. Finally, she said, “It’s obvious, but difficult to use for identification, I’d think. You’d have to touch a demon to know.”

Not necessarily. Modern infrared sensors could detect higher temperatures from a distance, and the differences were noticeable, especially if the demon stood near a human. No reason to mention that, though.

“It’s a problem,” he agreed. “I can’t walk down the street shaking everyone’s hand.”

“Or kissing them, like you did to me.”

So she’d figured that out? “If I’d shaken your hand, you’d have noticed me grabbing the Taser.”

“So? You could have just not let go of me. You know I can’t pull free without breaking the Rules.”

No, he couldn’t have just held on. He’d needed payback, however small. “You showed up with Rachel’s face, and I thought you were Madelyn. I wanted to electrocute you. So I got close enough to do it.”

She nodded, as if in understanding. “All right. The kissing makes more sense, then.”

No judgment? No pointing out that he was a sadistic bastard? Who the hell was this demon? He’d given her freebies all over the place, practically invited her to tear into his character, and she sat and nodded her head because it made sense.

“Is the hot skin the only difference?”

Her question made Nicholas realize that she’d been waiting for him to continue. He shook his head. “Demons count on people to explain away the unexplainable. A man disappears, and people tell themselves they must have been mistaken—that they just didn’t see him turn a corner. Someone moves too fast, looks inhuman for just a second, and they come up with excuses: They’re tired, their eyes are playing tricks, they—”

“Are going crazy,” Ash said.

“That, too. Most of the time, they shake their heads and laugh it off.” Others couldn’t, and some, like his father, landed in the care of doctors like Cawthorne—and then took a dive from the tallest bank tower in London. “But if you know what it might really have been, you look a little harder.”

“And then make sure you’re right by touching them?” When he nodded, she said, “So it’s all luck—a matter of seeing something at the right time? You’ll be looking for Madelyn forever, then.”

“We will be looking,” Nicholas reminded her. Though he’d be stupid not to get out of this bargain as quickly as possible. The more time he spent with the demon, the less he could figure her out. He hadn’t counted on that. When he’d made the bargain, he’d been certain of his ability to predict her reactions.

He should have been able to, goddammit. He should have been dodging her slings and arrows, not reminding himself that he shouldn’t be attracted to her, that he shouldn’t be amused by her. He’d expected subtle insults, not . . . whatever she was doing.

“We,” she echoed. “And based on what you’re saying, it really will be forever. Or until we die of old age.”

She wouldn’t grow old. Nicholas didn’t correct her, though.

“It’s not just luck,” he said. “You called their methods unoriginal, and you aren’t wrong. And that’s how you look for them.”

“A trail of dead dogs?”

Jesus. And people thought Nicholas lacked sensitivity. He wasn’t bothered by her question, but he definitely wouldn’t be letting her talk to the Boyles, even if she did learn to shape-shift.

“Not dogs. Dead people, sometimes. If someone says that a loved one came back to talk to them, there’s a good chance it was really a demon. If someone undergoes a complete personality change, a demon might have taken their place. If members of a vampire community start disappearing, they are probably being killed by a demon. If vampires start killing humans, there’s probably a demon in the background, prodding them into it. They use humans and vampires to do what they can’t: break the Rules.”

“I see.” She was quiet for a moment. “That’s still a lot to look for.”

“A lot of shit to wade through, and a lot of dead ends,” he agreed. Except for when it involved vampires, humans did everything he’d just mentioned without demon influence, too. “But I’m just looking for one demon, and I already know how she works. So I’ve been searching for something similar.”

He’d searched for a mother whose personality had undergone a sudden transformation. He’d searched for a husband who’d been committed to a psychiatric institution. He’d searched for a wife who’d taken over her husband’s business—probably in the financial sector—and who’d begun working all hours of the day and night, transforming the business into a burgeoning success.

He’d also searched for a kid battered by every recent change in his life. The ones marked by razor scars across their wrists or who’d spent nights in the hospital having their stomachs pumped. That had been the worst part of the search. He’d found far too many of those kids, and not a single one of them had ended up there because of a demon.

Did Ash know that part of his history? He hadn’t been wearing a shirt in Madelyn’s bedroom. If Ash had spotted the scars on the insides of his wrists, she could guess their origin, just as she’d guessed what Madelyn had done to Ringo. Not that it would matter if Ash had guessed; he was no longer self- destructive. All of the rage and pain he’d felt as a kid had cooled and hardened, and he’d channeled it into revenge.

“You searched for her and found me, instead,” Ash said.

He’d find Madelyn, too. “Yes.”

“And I resemble the assistant she killed—a woman you once dated.” Her brow furrowed in a way that told him she’d been distracted by some detail again. “But I can’t figure out why Rachel would date you, no matter how charming you were. As Madelyn’s assistant, her association with you created an enormous conflict of interest and was completely unethical.”

That had never been a problem for Nicholas, not where Madelyn was concerned. “Why is a demon bothered by something unethical?”

“I’m not bothered.” She frowned, as if trying to decide whether she should be or not. Finally, she shook her head. “What I don’t feel is beside the point. I’m trying to figure