Demon Moon

by Meljean Brook

  “Will you pay for it? Your tastes are more expensive than mine.”

  “No. Don’t be absurd.” He turned away from her to stare into the wall panel; after a moment, Jeeves nodded at them. “Castleford can afford it.”

  “He likes this.”

  “For the whole of the two hundred years I knew him as a Guardian, he wore the most revolting brown robe I’ve ever seen. His likes and dislikes are hardly worth consideration. He’d probably think it smashing if you wore a nun’s habit.”

  She grinned at him, as if pleased by the idea—or she was considering dressing as a nun for Castleford. Christ, how soft she’d become. A year ago, she’d have stabbed Colin for mentioning Castleford’s name.

  She’d still stab him, given the proper encouragement, but he supposed he was fortunate he didn’t have to be quite as careful around her. “Why has Castleford not told Savitri he forced his Gift on James Anderson?”

  Or perhaps he did. Lilith whirled and pressed her dagger against his throat. He stared at her, taken aback, but unconcerned. Though as quick and strong as a vampire, she posed no real physical threat; this was simply an expression of her displeasure—and her protective instincts. Not for Savi—only concern for Castleford could’ve produced this aggression against him.

  “You don’t tell her,” she hissed between her teeth. “If he hasn’t, it’s for a reason. But whatever the reason, it’s between them.”

  His eyes narrowed speculatively. Could Savi forgive Castleford’s deliberate execution of a human? A human she’d convinced herself had been mentally incapacitated?

  If Colin ever needed a wedge between Savi and Castleford, Lilith’s response suggested this might be a useful one. She, too, must assume that Castleford feared Savi’s reaction—and Lilith wouldn’t allow him to be hurt by it. “It merely surprised me to discover he’d not told her the truth of it,” he lied.

  “And why do you care?” Stepping away, Lilith slid her dagger back into its sheath.

  “I don’t.” He smiled lazily. “You give me too much credit; I’ve simply little else to do.”

  But he couldn’t completely deceive her. “So that’s why you’ve been around so much the past week? You’re bored?” Lilith asked as soon as they were through the security door. “Or is it the pheromone again?”

  The suggestion was too insulting to be borne—too insulting to him and to Savitri. But he was also too tired to shrug it away. “Fuck off, Lilith.”

  Her mouth thinned with anger, but she was silent the rest of the way to the Room.

  This couldn’t be right.

  Savi placed the printout by her mousepad and stared at it, her mind racing. Around her, the comfortable clacking of keys and a low electronic hum sounded as Jake and Drifter spoke in low voices, Drifter watching and offering suggestions as Jake used the computer to investigate a demon’s activity.

  CPUs, servers, monitors, and reams of paper—altogether, the office wasn’t much different from her previous one, just a bit brighter.

  She leaned forward to check the looping signature at the bottom of the purchase order again, but she hadn’t been mistaken: Colin Ames-Beaumont.

  The PO had been signed and dated three weeks ago, in Los Angeles. Fifteen Lincoln Navigators, acquired through Norbridge Medical Supply—a subsidiary of Ramsdell Pharmaceuticals. A veritable fleet, but hardly suitable for transporting crutches and wheelchairs.

  But Colin had been in the U.K. three weeks ago. And he didn’t personally manage his assets; she couldn’t imagine him concerning himself with something as mundane as a business’s vehicle purchases.

  Nor could she imagine him voluntarily traveling to Los Angeles.

  Obviously there’d been some kind of identity theft; but the vampires’ involvement and the sheer balls it would take to impersonate Colin and forge the purchase order indicated it wasn’t a matter of someone stealing bills from Colin’s mailbox to cash a few checks or run a credit card scam.

  She bit her lip, debating. It’d be easiest to go get him; he was somewhere in the building. With his help, she could weed more quickly through legitimate accounts and purchases to find any false ones.

  Except…

  You’re falling in love with me.

  She groaned a little, rubbed her hands over her face. How could he have so easily seen what she hadn’t recognized in herself? Had she been stuck in an inert emotional position for so long that it took a force like Colin to push her out of it? Once it gathered momentum, could she stop it? She’d known her feelings for him ran deeper than she wanted them to, but she hadn’t thought she’d reached such a critical point.

  And how embarrassing to admit to herself that she probably hadn’t recognized it because she’d never come to that point before. She didn’t lack for sexual experience, but was she so emotionally naïve? She hadn’t thought so. Certainly, her attachments never lasted, and usually never delved beyond the physical combined with a light friendship. But she wasn’t ignorant that deeper feelings could exist; she’d hoped it would eventually happen.

  But she’d never thought it would happen with a vampire. How unsuitable could one person be? Colin surely topped that list.

  And as well as they got along, as certain as she was that he appreciated her company and had developed an affection for her—and undoubtedly wanted her—she knew that he’d use her feelings to his advantage. He’d been too pleased in the realization for her to reach any other conclusion. And her instinctive, defensive reply, laughing it off as a phase, would only be seen as a positive to him; he would think they could have a fling without her being seriously hurt.

  She was certain he wouldn’t deliberately hurt her—his reaction the previous night had been evidence enough of that. But deliberation and action were often completely different things.

  Her gaze fell on the paper again. How tempting it was to hide here in this little room and deny herself contact with him in order to protect her heart. Any information she found could be forwarded through Lilith and Hugh.

  How tempting. And how much like running.

  Before she could change her mind, she swiveled in her chair and stood. Jake—a Guardian for forty years, but who looked no older than twenty with his military haircut and chiseled face—paused in his typing and glanced at her.

  Drifter had had his hand braced against the computer desk as he’d read the computer screen; when he straightened up, she had to fight the instant sensation that, next to him, she was a little girl.

  “Can you tell if the vampire Ames-Beaumont is still here?”

  Jake scratched absently at his chest; he was wearing a Grateful Dead T-shirt. Had he made it himself, materializing it with his Guardian powers, or had he purchased it?

  Why could they materialize clothes, but not weapons? And hadn’t they ever heard of the Law of Conservation of Matter? And even if it transformed from energy, where and how did the transformation take place?

  “He’s here,” Jake said finally, and for the first time she noted the tension around his eyes and mouth.

  “Where?” Her stomach sank as she recalled the conversation from the previous evening. But hadn’t Colin told Michael he’d go in before dawn? “The mirrors?”

  Jake and Drifter exchanged a glance; Drifter shook his head and said, “We know the location in the building, Miss Savi, but we don’t know what’s in there. And they’ve sealed and locked it with the spell, so they likely wouldn’t hear even if you pounded on the door.”

  “Can you unlock it?” she asked. He could open any lock with his Gift, whether mechanical or electronic.

  “No, miss,” Drifter said. “My Gift doesn’t work on the spell. I can let you know when they’ve removed it from around the room.”

  She nodded numbly and turned back to her chair. “Thank you.”

  Jake stopped her. “Savi…he isn’t always himself when he comes out. We’ve all noticed it; we respect his privacy, but it’s hard to miss a psychic backlash that dark. You might want to wait until later to see hi
m.”

  “Thanks, but I think I still need to know.”

  Jake’s reluctant assent hung in the air between them, and it was several moments before she heard him typing again. She sat, stared blankly at her monitor.

  Then she roused herself, flexed her fingers. A quick, hard trip through her memory gave her an image of his account listings and assets, which had appeared on a similar computer screen eight months before. Hugh had only asked for Colin’s address and telephone number; now Savi was glad she’d been nosy and poked a bit further.

  It wouldn’t be perfect—Colin had bought Polidori’s and renovated his house, which would show as a huge spike in financial activity—but it would give her a place to start.

  What other transactions had been taking place in his name? And how far back did they go?

  “Colin, love, open your beautiful eyes and tell us what you see.”

  Lilith’s voice was soft now, and he barely heard it over the screams. When had he closed his eyes? Had he lost consciousness?

  “Colin,” Selah said. “You’ve got to come back.”

  Come back from where? He was so tired. When would she come back? She’d promised not to leave him, but she did.

  No, he’d told her to go. To find Michael. And she had, but not before the wyrmwolves had found him—

  “Colin! Goddammit, you fucking pantywaist, sit yourself up on your beautiful ass and look!”

  Christ, but she had the devil’s own tongue. “Sod off, Lilith,” he said hoarsely, and her relieved laughter pushed the screams away. A pleasant memory surfaced in their place.

  The night before, Savi had called it spectacular. Though tears had brightened her eyes, she’d been laughing, and the delicious scent of her blood had filled—

  No. Don’t make her part of this.

  He gave his head a hard shake, and the screams poured back in.

  “Colin, what are the nosferatu doing?” Michael’s melodic voice was impossible to ignore.

  He didn’t want to look up, but he did. The shrieking filled his brain, but he didn’t allow himself to see the dangling bodies, only the pale creatures that flew between them. “Still writing.”

  “Is it intact?”

  “Yes.” Colin dropped his chin to his chest, closed his eyes again. On his hands and knees like a fucking dog, but it was better than falling.

  “And the wyrmwolves?” Castleford asked quietly. “Can you see them?”

  Colin lifted his head, slid his knee forward, then his hands. The ground below sped by with dizzying speed. An inch here, miles in Chaos.

  Or he was just so tired he couldn’t tell the difference between speed and sickness.

  There. A writhing mass. A pack moving across a plain of solid black stone, at the base of a towering mountain. It had been that mountain in which he and Selah had found the caves, where they’d clawed their way to safety.

  Safety, for a time.

  “They’re still congregated near the mountain. All of them, moving together.” Almost aimlessly, it seemed—but they hadn’t formed such a large pack when he and Selah had run from them. Or flown, rather—Selah carrying him until they reached the mountain. In the caves, her wings had been useless.

  Don’t leave me here alone.

  The screams built and built, and his lips trembled with the effort of keeping them in. He shook his head, fought a wave of exhaustion and vertigo.

  “That’s enough for now, Colin,” Michael said quietly.

  Colin stared blindly at the mountain. Somewhere behind that black pile of stone, a sheet of tinted glass, they all stared back.

  Damn them all.

  Savi ran up the steps to the second level of the warehouse; Drifter’s footsteps fell heavily behind her on each metal riser. Though she’d only asked the Guardian for directions, he’d insisted on leading her there.

  But he wasn’t in as much of a hurry as she was.

  She hadn’t needed to bring the sheaf of papers she held in her hand; every detail buried itself in her memory. But Colin would want to see. As would the others.

  On the landing, Drifter drew even with her. Ready to provide protection from Colin, she assumed. Perhaps because Hugh had been Drifter’s mentor—now he felt obligated to protect her, even though she’d insisted she didn’t need it. Always the little sister.

  She forced her resentment away. “Are Colin’s shields still down?”

  “No, Miss Savi. He’s raised them again; it was just those few moments.”

  Colin would hate that. Even if it was only a few moments, he’d hate knowing that whatever the mirrors did to him, each of the Guardians and vampires in the vicinity—even the imprisoned nosferatu—would feel it, too.

  Not out of concern for them, but that it allowed them more of himself than Colin wanted to give.

  The layout upstairs was less utilitarian than the first floor, and the rear portion was used for tiny dormitory-style living quarters and common rooms. Drifter guided her to the northwest corner via a narrow, unlit corridor. The solid wooden door at the end hadn’t been marked with anything as obvious as a NO ADMITTANCE sign, but everything about the approach stated it clearly.

  Drifter stepped in front of her, and she heard the click of the dead bolt. He opened the door and silently signaled to Michael. She looked beneath his arm, taking a brief second to see into the room, to prepare herself. But it wasn’t a scene of terror—more like a waiting room. Calming blue paint, soft lighting, and an overstuffed sofa that Sir Pup had taken up with his enormous form. The only unusual feature was the large, darkened window that took up most of one wall of the room….

  Not a window, a two-way mirror. Like the observation glass in a police interrogation room.

  Colin stood in front of it, leaning against the pane as if he needed it to prop him up, his eyes closed. Exhaustion and despair sat in the line of his body, the slump of his shoulders. His face was taut and pale, his mouth compressed into a thin line. Beneath the flat front of his trouser pockets, she could see the outlines of his fists.

  Tired and furious.

  Selah was beside him, speaking quietly. She paused as Savi entered the room, as did Hugh, Michael, and Lilith. Judging by their stiff postures, the anger on Lilith’s face, they’d been arguing.

  She barely heard Drifter leave and the door close behind him.

  Hugh’s expression softened into concern. “What is it, Savi?”

  Savi glanced back at Colin; he’d opened his eyes. Her gaze briefly locked with his, then his lids lowered into a predatory stare.

  He eased away from the glass.

  Savi’s heart climbed into her throat, seemed to pound the blood into her head at a dizzying pace.

  “Oh, fuck,” Lilith breathed.

  Savi silently echoed the curse. She’d been so careful; her shields were up, impenetrable. No scent could have leaked through to tease him, yet there was no mistaking the rapacious hunger that pulled his lips back over his fangs, that darkened his features.

  Stay there, Colin.

  “Savi,” Hugh said, his voice studiously even, “can this wait until later?”

  Colin’s lashes flickered as he stole a glance at the three standing by the sofa. Selah moved in front of him, but wasn’t tall enough to hide Savi from his sight.

  He met her gaze again. “Are you afraid, my sweet Savitri?”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Not of you.”

  She only added the last for Hugh’s benefit; she didn’t know if his ability to see truth would differentiate between specific fears. She was afraid, but not that Colin would attack her.

  He was deliberately provoking them. Why? And did he think they wouldn’t realize it? Hugh could read truth as easily as he could read words on a page; one verbal slip on Colin’s part and Hugh would know. And Michael…who knew what Michael could see.

  She turned to Hugh. “It can’t wait. I need to talk to him before he goes home.”

  “They won’t allow you near me,” Colin said, leaning back an
d bracing his shoulders against the glass again. He didn’t appear predatory now; instead he looked and sounded as if this were all a tedious bore. “Lilith and Castleford fear my reaction, for I’m nothing more than a dog on a bitch’s scent. And Michael worries as well, though with more compelling reason: he knows what I did to you in Caelum.”

  Her heart stopped. He was punishing them. Why? For the mirrors—or for their lack of trust in him? Or something else?

  “Michael, get him out of here,” Lilith said. Her gaze moved warily between Savi and Colin. “He doesn’t know what he’s doing. Let him sleep it off.”

  “Before I say something I regret?” Colin said silkily. “I daresay Castleford would regret it more than I would.”

  Hugh’s jaw unclenched, and he turned his head to stare at Savi. His blue eyes were glacial. “What happened in Caelum?”

  She’d never heard such a tone from him before—cold and deadly. Even knowing it was in him, she’d never seen it brought to the surface. A killing edge, one that called for execution, if the offenses were terrible enough.

  She was going to be sick. If he’d still had his Gift to force truth, she was certain she’d be spilling out a simple confession: We had sex; I offered him my blood; he took it, and taught me a lesson. Michael only knows because he healed the puncture wounds before Nani saw me.

  But it hadn’t been that simple.

  Swallowing hard, she said, “Nothing that wasn’t of my free will. I allowed…opened myself to…welcomed everything we did together. It was all of my free will.”

  It wasn’t really an answer, but it was the only thing she could think of that wouldn’t result in bloodshed. The Rules stipulated that Guardians and demons had to honor a human’s free will; though Lilith and Hugh no longer had to, they followed the Rules almost to the same degree. And but for life, Hugh held free will above nearly every other ideal—had Fallen to regain his.