Angels of Darkness

her best Don’t say stupid things look. “Marc.”
    He grinned. “I have to consider the seemingly impossible. After all, we were almost killed by four human girls . . . who knew exactly how to kill us and had a near-perfect plan to carry it out. What are the chances of that?”
    Her expression pensive, she pillowed her head on his shoulder again. “Not very good,” she said. “It’s odd, isn’t it?”
    Yes. And Guardians didn’t ignore strange things like that.
    They also didn’t ignore that no human girl could bash in a reinforced basement door . . . or that one said to another, The book said a door would open, and it did, didn’t it ?
    â€œWhich book do you suppose they were talking about?” Marc wondered.
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    B y noon, not everyone in Riverbend had heard about the shocking confession from four high school girls yet, but enough had that the astonishment and disbelief rippled through the town. By noon, Gregory Jackson was behind the counter of his mother’s coffee shop, watching an American football game. Across the street at the library, children’s story hour had just begun.
    Radha had to give Marc another look when he held the library door open for her—but she supposed that a library was probably the most appropriate place for an invisible friend. No one noticed his strange behavior, anyway . . . not even the old bat at the circulation desk.
    Which was why, in the end, Guardians were always going to win out over demons: Guardians kept their eyes open.
    In the corner, a semicircle of three- and four-year-olds sat enraptured while a woman read to them about giving a mouse a cookie. A few adults browsed the fiction shelves. A teenage boy sat at a computer, casting wary glances now and then at the circulation desk.
    None of them noticed when Marc called in his sword—no one except Mrs. Carroll, the crotchety old librarian.
    But only because Radha let her see it.
    Her eyes widened behind horn-rimmed spectacles. Her voice lifted, shrill with alarm. “Who are you? What are you—”
    The blast of Marc’s psychic probe cut her off, and beneath the cracks in the librarian’s shields, Radha felt the scaly touch of a demon’s mind.
    The demon fell silent, glowering at Marc with narrowed eyes and pursed lips.
    â€œIt was perfect,” Marc said. “You’re everything a demon almost never appears to be: old, frail, in a position of service—a position that requires you to help people. The perfect disguise to hide from a Guardian, or to hide from Basriel when he was taking over this territory. But hiding just wasn’t enough, was it? You decided to start meddling. And who better to meddle with than teenage girls, who could do any killing for you? Especially if they were trained to kill Basriel—or later, to kill a Guardian that they believed was a demon.”
    The librarian glanced at the children before looking back at Marc. “You won’t do anything in here.”
    â€œYes, I would. Because if you’ll notice, no one is pointing at my sword yet. I could slay you now, and no one would see a thing.”
    â€œI don’t believe you.”
    â€œOf course you don’t.” Marc nodded. “Radha?”
    With the slightest adjustment of her illusion, she appeared visible to the demon—crossbow in hand, only a few steps from the circulation desk.
    â€œNow you’ll notice that no one is pointing at the naked blue woman,” Marc said.
    Naked? Not even. When she wanted to be naked, there’d be no mistaking it. But she’d have to show him later.
    The demon stood, calling in a long, curving sword to each hand. No one reacted. As if emboldened by the lack of response, crimson scales suddenly erupted over its skin. Black horns curled back from the librarian’s wrinkled forehead, and the demon shape-shifted— growing taller than Marc, its body heavy with muscle. Its eyes began to glow crimson.
    â€œCome on, then,” the demon challenged them.
    Marc shook his head. “I just want to know about the book you used to poison Miklia and her friends. Did you write it yourself?”
    â€œIt’s a work in progress.” The demon smiled, exposing long, dangerous fangs. “So were they. And after I kill you both, I’ll just write another one, and find another human.”
    Radha sighed. Why did demons always sound the same? Blah blah kill you all