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deflected his pain with a hard loop of hate. What does it matter to me? Alvaro made his choices. He had abandoned Diago when he was a child, bartered his soul to Moloch in order to avoid reincarnation, and thrived on the blood of others as an ‘aulaq . Diago didn’t have one damn reason to care what happened to Alvaro.
    Except Alvaro gave his life so I could escape Moloch and save Rafael. The act won Diago’s respect. But there’s a long walk between respect and forgiveness. One selfless act didn’t negate a lifetime of neglect.
    Nor did it explain Alvaro’s sudden reappearance. Had he come back to warn Diago? Of what? She hunts? What the hell did that mean?
    And who is she ?
    â€œAlvarez?” Garcia’s voice took an edge.
    â€œI’m fine.” Say it enough times, it might come true. He fixed his eyes on the car in front of them. “I’m fine.”
    Garcia lowered his book and watched Diago for the rest of the ride. When the train finally rolled to a stop at the Passeig de Gràcia station, Diago rose. The moment the doors opened he was off and moving toward the station’s exit. He took the stairs two at a time and didn’t slow until the sun drove the image of his father’s tormented face into the shadows.

 
    CHAPTER TWO
    O nce above ground, Diago assumed a more causal pace. He observed the ­people who went about their busy lives completely unaware of the supernatural world moving beneath their feet. Before he’d joined Guillermo’s group of Nefilim, Diago had enjoyed pretending to be mortal. He’d only used his magic when absolutely necessary and left the matters of angels and daimons to the clergy.
    LIAR. The word carved on Alvaro’s forehead jumped into Diago’s mind. I lied to myself for too long. He’d feigned normalcy for many centuries and disregarded incidents like the one he just experienced.
    It’s like waking after a long sleep. He mourned his old life for only a moment. As he passed a shop window, Alvaro’s face haunted him. Again Diago saw the words: help me . . . she hunts.
    She hunts. What could it possibly mean?
    Diago parsed the clues as he walked. If Alvaro knew of this mysterious female, then she was most likely a daimon, or maybe an ‘aulaq . Either way, she was looking for something, and whatever that something was, Alvaro felt the need to warn Diago about her presence. Other than their relationship as father and son, the only two things linking Diago to Alvaro were Rafael, and the idea for the bomb Prieto had taken from Moloch.
    Diago’s mind immediately jumped to Rafael. Did the daimons hunt his son? Like Diago, Rafael carried the magic of both the angels and the daimons in his spiritual heritage. If the daimons could turn Rafael to their cause, they would acquire a powerful weapon against the angels and Los Nefilim.
    Yet the analysis didn’t fit. Concerning Rafael, the daimons had nothing to hunt. Moloch knew Rafael was with Diago, and no one had made any secret of Diago’s presence at Santuari. No. Whoever “she” was, she couldn’t be after Rafael. That left Prieto, and the idea for the bomb.
    Diago’s musings were cut short when a hand gripped his arm. Startled, he turned to find Garcia had caught up to him.
    Diago tried to pull free without drawing attention to them but Garcia’s grip tightened. “What—­?”
    â€œJust shut up and move.” He steered Diago into the mouth of an alley.
    Diago jerked free and put his back against the wall. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
    Garcia jabbed Diago’s shoulder with one sharp finger. “I asked you a question on the train and you lied to me. I’m going to pretend it was because of the mortals. You’ve got one more chance to get right with me. What happened?”
    Be careful. You need him. You need him to vouch for you. Diago evaded the question and kept his tone even.