Demon Moon

by Meljean Brook

  His tainted blood. He clenched his teeth against the sudden wave of memory, but the rot filled his mind, the putrid scent of Chaos and blood and wyrmwolves. Don’t scream. Feed and you’ll be strong enough to fight them. Strong enough to run.

  Don’t leave me here—

  Savitri abruptly stopped, then staggered when he bumped into her, too distracted to catch himself. Automatically, he steadied her with his hands on her bare shoulders.

  Reality in the form of her warm, smooth skin reasserted itself all too well.

  The pulse beating at the base of her throat drew his gaze; his bloodlust ripened when its pace increased. He dropped his hands from her with a soft apology.

  Good God, but she was light, fragile. She hadn’t the least protection from him.

  She’d be safer in Michael’s temple, secluded there with her sleeping grandmother. He’d show her the symbols; she could lock him out.

  “I just can’t get over how beautiful it is,” she whispered. She tilted her face up and spun in a slow circle. “It’s unreal.”

  Colin looked as well, bringing his hand up to cover his eyes from the sun before he remembered that it wouldn’t sting.

  Sublime. The brilliant blue sky, pierced by pillars and spires of white. Huge onion domes and columned temples rose in perfect balance around them. It did not matter which prospect he beheld; it took his breath, his reason, and shattered every ideal of beauty he’d ever had.

  And left him giddy with awe and delight. His chest ached, his eyes burned as if he were weeping—and yet it was laughter that spilled from him, left him so weak he had to lean over and brace his palms against his knees.

  He couldn’t make sense of any of it.

  Don’t leave me here alone.

  Shaking his head, he straightened. Savitri sat on the ground beside him, her legs folded under her, her bottom resting in the curve of her heels. She stared at her hands; in the few hours they’d toured through Caelum, he’d come to recognize her attempt to regain her self-control.

  She couldn’t look much longer than he could without losing herself in it; that terrible, wonderful sense of shattering. Frightening, too—but she’d never shown her fear, though he’d heard her heart and lungs racing, had seen the trembling that had overtaken her.

  What was wrong with her? His brows drew together, and he held out his hand to help her to her feet. “Does anything scare you?”

  As if startled by the question, she blinked up into his face. Her fingers clenched over his for a brief second, and a half-smile shaped her lips. “Yes,” she said. “When I think about it.”

  What the bloody hell did that mean? But the sparkle of water caught his attention, and he only said, “I shall have to make you think about it, then.”

  “Think about what you’re saying, Michael,” Selah said, and Chaos roared in around him.

  Blood filled Colin’s mouth. His own this time. Thank God.

  “The nosferatu have been feeding from creatures in Chaos for months now—maybe even from dragons. They’re stronger, more powerful than before. If you go, can you fight them without your sword? Is it worth the risk to both of you on the slight chance they’ll stumble upon a combination of symbols that opens a portal?”

  “They’re bloodsucking monkeys on fucking typewriters.” The sharp rattle of glass accompanied Lilith’s angry declaration. The dark mountain to Colin’s left quaked—she’d hit the mirror. “The wyrmwolf was a fluke.”

  “He’s back.” Castleford’s tone included a warning. To whom?

  Colin shook his head, tried to clear it. Impossible. Not with the screams ringing in his ears. “Enough. Open the fucking door.” He had to force the words out through clenched teeth. He closed his eyes, shut out the rot. Stopped breathing, to block out the odor.

  But they still filled him.

  The décor in the observation area offended Colin’s senses almost as badly as the Room did. Bland beige carpet, walls washed in a weak blue. Colors likely chosen to calm and soothe, but they only managed to declare the designer a tasteless idiot.

  “Is the protection spell still active in this room?” Lilith looked to Michael for confirmation.

  “Yes.” The Doyen stood with his arms crossed over his massive chest, a tall, bronzed warrior with brutally short hair and an expression that could have been sculpted beneath Rodin’s skilled hands. “We will not be overheard; you may speak freely.”

  Colin leaned back against the observation window; behind him, the Room was dark. “I’ve no intention of ever returning,” he said. “And certainly not to see a horde of scribbling nosferatu.”

  “You may not have a choice,” Michael said. “The danger is twofold: If they open a portal to Earth and return the stronger, the death toll will be catastrophic. The vampires we are training cannot defeat nosferatu alone, and we have not enough Guardians. More than wyrmwolves may slip through in their wake; if they release a dragon—”

  “Perhaps you can make yourself a new sword.” Colin’s fists tightened in his pockets. “I’ll not go back. If you simply intend to look at the symbols, it only provides the nosferatu confirmation of their ingenuity—unless you intend to fight them? But if you are killed, who will teleport me out?”

  “There would be no one,” Castleford said softly. He glanced at Michael. “I agree that the threat does not equal the risk.”

  “I’m bloody thrilled that you agree with me, but it hardly matters. I’ll not return.”

  “There is the second danger,” Michael said. “It can be no mistake they make their attempt amongst the bodies above.”

  “You can’t know that it will open into Hell,” Lilith said.

  “We’ve all thought it,” Selah said, rising from the sofa. Her wings opened wide; a quick shake ran through the feathers as she smoothed them. “Those souls who have reneged on their bargains have their faces frozen in a field Below, and they scream; in Chaos, bodies hang from the ceiling, and they scream. And scream.” Her blue eyes filled. “I don’t know that I wouldn’t Fall rather than return, either.”

  “You wouldn’t,” Castleford said.

  “I’d consider it. I only wouldn’t because I have an easy escape.” Selah shook her head, and turned to face Michael. “I can’t teleport him out if you are defeated. If they break through the ceiling into Hell, what is the danger? The Gates are closed. If the nosferatu traveled through to Hell, they couldn’t escape—most likely, they’d be killed by the demons there.”

  “Lucifer and Belial may even stop in their battles against one another long enough to chase down the bloodsuckers.”

  “Yes,” Michael said. “And the Morningstar would have access, once again, to Chaos. Nothing in the wager he lost prevents him from working to create a Gate from Chaos to Earth before his five hundred years have passed. He has the knowledge, and he would bring the dragons with him.”

  “Let them come,” Colin said tightly. “I’ll not return.”

  Michael’s eyes transformed; when he looked at Colin, it was with a blank, obsidian gaze. “You may not have a choice.”

  CHAPTER 7

  In the most absurd of circumstances, I find myself struck by a curse. I pray that your next letter includes intelligence from those blasted boring Scrolls of a way to break it. I hang on by cravat and waistcoat; if not for Winters, I’d be a terrible mess. I find it most distressing to look into a mirror and see…I’ve no idea what I see. Only that it cannot be me.

  —Colin to Ramsdell, 1816

  Savi wasn’t surprised to find Hugh in his home office—nor when she found him bench-pressing an enormous set of weights instead of sitting at the desk.

  “Can we talk?”

  Hugh paused in the middle of a lift, looking down the length of his body at her. Settling the bar in the cradle, he sat up and wiped the perspiration from his face and chest with a T-shirt.

  The symbols scarring his pectorals were pale against his tan. Savi wanted to cringe in sympathy just looking at them; yet he’d willingly stood for it
, sacrificing himself to save four of his students—perhaps saving the city. The world.

  If Savi hadn’t been stowed away in Caelum, he likely would have been rescuing her from Lucifer and the nosferatu.

  And if her gratitude when he covered them was tinged by guilt, it quickly disappeared when she realized that he’d put on the sweaty shirt. “That’s disgusting.”

  He shrugged, a smile tilting his lips. “There’s less laundry this way.” His eyeglasses sat on his desk; he slid them on, looked her over. “Talk about what?”

  “My psychic blocks,” she said, and moved farther into the room when he gestured for her to join him. “I know they’re naturally high, but…you want me to take that?”

  He had held out a large gray dumbbell. She glanced at the number on the end: seventy-five pounds. “That weighs almost as much as I do.”

  “If you drop it, I’ll catch it before it smashes your foot.”

  Her bare toes suddenly felt small and vulnerable. “Okay.” Hugh supported it as she gripped the handle with both hands, then slowly let it go. Heavy…but it didn’t take much effort to keep it up. “Holy shit.”

  “Curl it.” Hugh demonstrated by bending his elbows. “Do ten. They aren’t naturally high, Savi.”

  “I asked Selah if she could read me. I wasn’t consciously shielding, and she said she couldn’t get very deep. And when I did concentrate, she couldn’t get in at all.” She hit ten, stopped. “I didn’t have to concentrate very hard, either. It’s been getting a lot easier.”

  Hugh gave her another weight, one for each hand. “Everything does with practice. Ten more.”

  Savi hadn’t been practicing, but applying—whenever Colin had visited the house. “Or with hellhound venom and nosferatu blood.”

  Shaking his head, Hugh took the dumbbells. “No. You’ve been blocking since you were thirteen.” He crouched and removed a few fifty-pound discs from each end of a long bar.

  “Thirteen?”

  Pausing, he glanced up at her, his forearm resting on his thigh. “You remember. Just think about it. Make the connection.”

  Her chest tightened. “That was the year I started running.”

  In response to no particular stimuli, Savi’s heart would begin to race, she’d not be able to breathe…and when she recognized what was happening to her, she’d fall into a fugue state and run to the nearest small, dark space.

  But not always a safe space. Usually closets and beneath beds, but Hugh had found her in the walk-in freezer at Auntie’s twice; once Nani had located her in the trunk of a neighbor’s car.

  “And the year you stopped,” Hugh said. With a sigh, he rubbed the back of his neck. “It was a technique I used to prevent my physical response to Lilith.”

  Savi sank down on the floor beside him. The doctors had diagnosed her with post-traumatic stress disorder. “The drugs were working,” she recalled. “But they made me…” Slow. Dumb.

  “Aye.”

  She pressed her fingers to her forehead. “That was the stupid meditation thing you made me do for a couple of weeks with you—the counting and the yoga?”

  “Yes.” Behind his lenses, his blue gaze was direct…and filled with regret. “It should have taken you a year or two to adopt the shields—and you should have had to practice to maintain it. I didn’t take into account your memory, and your ability to absorb information.”

  “So it pretty much separated my brain from my body? Didn’t let me recognize what was going on?” She laughed into her hands, rocked forward. “Oh, god, that explains a lot. Do you know what I have to do when I’m in bed with someone?”

  His cheeks heated. So did hers.

  “Forget I said—”

  “I can teach you to lower them so you might not have to—”

  “It’s not like it’s bad when I’m…oh, god, I’m shutting up.” She sealed her lips together, stared at him.

  “I’m sorry, Savi. You can learn to have better control over your shields, but the unconscious level is likely permanent.”

  “Jesus, don’t be sorry. It’s better than a trunk, or not being able to think. And at least I know now there’s a reason for it—instead of, you know, just being totally fucked up after watching a crazy asshole gun down my family.” She released a long breath. “I still get them—the anxiety attacks.”

  “I know. I see them, now and again. More often since you’ve returned from Caelum. You handle them well.”

  She smiled wryly. “Not really. If I notice it, I freeze up and have to stop myself from going. If anything frightens me, the same thing happens.”

  “Better than blacking out and running.” He stood, gave her the bar. She managed one lift before she had to put it down. “You were able to run when it mattered.”

  “On the plane? I guess. I thought it all out ahead of time; that probably helped. It wasn’t an involuntary reaction.”

  “Perhaps. Four hundred and fifty pounds looks to be your limit. We’ll test your speed at SI tomorrow.”

  She grinned, struck a bodybuilder’s pose. “What’s your limit?”

  “About three times that. Lilith, six times. Before you ask, I’ve never tested Michael, though he’s undoubtedly the strongest. Guardians’ strength varies according to age, but most novices can carry five tons.” His lips twitched when her mouth dropped open. “It’s very, very rare that such a weight needs to be lifted or moved. And when fighting, the dynamics change completely; strength is important, but factors such as speed and skill play a significant part.”

  Lilith’s strength was equivalent to normal vampires’. “What about nosferatu-born vampires?”

  “Usually, about halfway between a nosferatu and a vampire.”

  Usually, because there was an exception. “And Colin’s strength?”

  He’d been able to open the massive marble doors in Michael’s temple. She’d once estimated the weight of each slab: almost one hundred tons. All of it held up by the frame—but she hadn’t been able to produce enough force to overcome inertia and swing them on the hinges.

  Colin had, with little apparent effort.

  Hugh shook his head. “I don’t know. The few times I’ve seen him move faster than a stroll, I’d have put his speed in the range of a novice. He fought a nosferatu when we were attacked in his basement last year; he’d not quite the speed and strength, but equal the skill.”

  “Would he have lost?”

  “Perhaps he would’ve eventually fallen if Selah hadn’t teleported him out, but he held up well until then. Much better than I did,” he said with a wry smile.

  Savi looked at his neck; Michael had healed the nosferatu’s bite. No evidence of it remained. “So, is there anything else you haven’t told me?”

  “Aye. But I’ve no intention of sharing it now.”

  As there was a lot she hadn’t told him, either, she thought they must be even. “I’m off to the kitchen. Do you know if he’s coming tonight? I thought I’d give him another chance at DemonSlayer.”

  To Savi’s surprise, the vampire had shown up every evening since their agreement, and refrained from making a complete ass of himself. They’d spent the previous night playing a video game; Colin had rolled up his sleeves and appeared to enjoy it—though he’d been shocked when his preternatural reflexes hadn’t overcome her experience.

  And though he had a wicked competitive streak and had tried to cheat several times, he’d taken his defeat gracefully. She hadn’t expected it of him.

  Of course, being a good loser hadn’t prevented Colin from rolling his eyes toward the ceiling in exasperation when Hugh had pointed out that strength didn’t always win over brains and training.

  She glanced at him now, but instead of finding humor as she’d anticipated, Hugh wore a resigned expression. “I doubt he will.”

  “Oh. Why?”

  “A personal matter; he may tell you if you ask him, but I won’t.” His gaze leveled on hers. “You’re not avoiding him as you used to. Were memories of Caelum so painful?”
/>
  Uncomfortable, she shifted on her feet. He’d known? “Yes.” She said the truth only because a lie was useless with him. “I thought I hid it.”

  “I’ve seen how you look at the painting,” he said, and she relaxed slightly. He hadn’t meant her encounter with Colin—but her answer was still true. “When I first became a Guardian, I looked at Caelum and thought: How could I ever want more than this?”

  “It’s overwhelming,” she agreed, her throat tightening.

  “Yes. In the beginning. After a while, it no longer had what I sought—but I can’t deny its beauty. It’s unfortunate you couldn’t stay awhile, as Colin did. Have you asked Michael if you can go again?”

  “Yes. I’ve asked Michael a lot of things; he says no to most of them.”

  Hugh’s laughter was deep, and she smiled at the sound of it. He hadn’t always laughed; after he’d Fallen, and before Lilith had come back into his life, it had been rare.

  And no wonder. How did someone voluntarily give up Caelum? She’d have given anything to stay…would give anything to return. “How did you bear it? When you Fell?”

  “I didn’t do so well.”

  “No, I guess not.” Except with Nani and herself, he’d been like a man of ice. “You were a freak cold bastard.”

  “That wasn’t just Caelum,” he said softly, “but the result of many factors. I’d slain Lilith. I’d broken the Rules by trying to deny Anderson’s free will when he shot you. And—” He broke off, shook his head. “It wasn’t as simple as leaving Caelum.”

  No, Savi thought. It wasn’t.

  Colin not only arrived, but he came earlier than usual. Just after sunset, he settled himself onto a barstool in the kitchen. Unaccustomed to the subdued manner of his greeting, Savi washed and cut vegetables for the pulao in silence, hyperaware that his gaze never left her as she moved from sink to counter.

  “What is that?” His soft question after minutes of quiet startled her. “Cilantro?”