Demon Moon

by Meljean Brook

  “Shit,” she breathed, her cheeks flushing. “Is there any other way I can make a spectacle of myself tonight?”

  “I could push up your skirt and take you here,” he said, shrugging lightly, but the intensity of his gaze when it lowered to her legs belied the casual gesture and tone. She looked, too; she’d turned toward him, and the linen had slid up to expose a few inches of skin above her boots.

  He brushed his fingertips across the sensitive inside of her lower thigh; her body reacted to the touch as if had been a kiss to her mouth, a slow lick through moisture and heat.

  “I could drink from you. Make you scream as you come.”

  “That would do it,” she said, her voice not much higher than a moan. Though she was tempted to adjust it the opposite direction, she tugged her hem down over her knees, smoothed the line of it. If he touched her again, she just might not be able to help herself. “Is that what you threatened Manu with?”

  “My sweet Savitri.” A smile teased his lips. “That was full on ten minutes. Was it terribly torturous?”

  “Not terribly.”

  His gray eyes gleamed with sudden pleasure. “I shall assume that my presence erased all concern for him from your thoughts, stifling your curiosity.”

  “Or I didn’t want confirmation that you’d been eavesdropping again. There are moments of stupidity I’d rather suffer with as few witnesses as possible.”

  “You speak of your shocking admission that you believe in ghouls and goblins?” He caught the tip of his tongue between his teeth, as if to hold back laughter. “Do not fear, sweet. I said it might behoove him to forget you admitted to such, and that if an explanation for his rejection must be given, he should say your beauty and intelligence overwhelmed him. Upon the realization he could never be a match for you, he sacrificed you so you could be with someone you would love. And that he will live in agonies for the rest of his life for cocking up his one opportunity with the woman of his dreams.”

  Her stomach dropped. To hide her dismay, she averted her face and collected her teacup from the table, drank down the last of the lukewarm contents.

  “Are you displeased with me?”

  She pressed her lips together, shook her head. “With myself.” Setting her cup down, she forced herself to look at him, met his questioning gaze. And she admitted it to herself, as much as she did him, “I did it on purpose, knowing what the result would be. And I have no idea how I’ve gotten to such a point that I tell the truth to people that don’t matter to me so that I can fuck up any chance of finding a husband in this community, yet I lie to Nani, who does matter, and whom my confession would have embarrassed the most. And I should be glad that you saved me from myself. But mostly I just want to leave here and spend the night in your bed, and not think about how I’m going to lie to Nani again when I do the complete opposite of what I promised her: stay at your house for a month, instead of meet with suitable men.”

  Though Colin had watched her steadily throughout, his expression unreadable, at the last his brows rose and he said, “I’m eminently suitable. Handsome and rich. A Cambridge graduate, though I confess I was far too interested in feminine studies to accumulate honors. You could claim to be trying me out.”

  Closing her eyes against her laughter, she pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to rid herself of the ache behind her forehead. “I just need to tell her.”

  “Yes.”

  She exhaled, nodded. Looked back up at him. Had she ever thought his eyes were cold? Perhaps a warm, sunlit winter. “What aren’t you telling me? Last night, I announced my intention to go home with you and you almost dragged me out of my chair to your bed. Why are we still here?”

  A wry smile tilted the corners of his mouth. “I did not want to frighten you.”

  The shiver that ran up her neck wasn’t at all pleasant, but cold, clammy. “Should we be frightened?”

  His hands enfolded one of hers, brought it down to his upper thigh. A hard, steel length lay beneath the fine wool of his trousers. “Not precisely what I’d like you to touch in that location, but it’s there if you want it.”

  A gun. Either loaded with tranquilizer darts made with hellhound venom, or bullets laced with the same. The bullets would hurt a vampire, slow one down—perhaps even temporarily disable it—but the venom wouldn’t have an effect on one.

  Only on a demon or nosferatu.

  Her fingers trembled as they slid higher, found the edge of his pocket. She wouldn’t have anything to fear from a demon, but Colin would. His speed and strength would easily overcome any other vampire, even if he didn’t have a weapon—but a gun and the venom would be necessary for him to even the odds with a demon.

  “When?”

  “Directly after we sat down. The pup sent it to me.”

  Good dog. And for him to sense it before Colin had, he must have scented it physically instead of psychically; was the demon trying to conceal itself to surprise Colin? Or just observing him? “Would it dare attack you here?”

  “I hope not; I’d hate to pay for damages done to the place.” His boyish grin accompanied the statement, but his gaze was humorless as it centered over her shoulder. “Take it out, Savi. If it comes to that, the pup will send me more. Or do the job himself.”

  She began to turn her head, but he caught her chin, met her eyes.

  “If it comes to that, and you can’t run…grab the pup and hold on to him, and he’ll run for you.” He leaned forward when her lips parted in surprise, and dropped a quick kiss against them. “And I’m making it a condition: if you want a month, I have to know you’ll protect yourself first.”

  “If I were interested in protecting myself, I wouldn’t stay with you for a month.” She returned his kiss before he could reply, using her body to shield her hand’s movement from the other patrons. She didn’t want the weapon, would rather it be available to Colin; the demon could move more quickly than she could hope to aim. But if it reassured Colin to know that she had some protection, she’d take it.

  No silencer. Dammit. She slid it beneath her thigh, thumbed off the safety, and kept her forefinger against the trigger guard.

  Sir Pup flopped to the floor next to her feet, laid his head on her boots.

  “Hugh told you? About the fugues?”

  “Yes. No worries, Savitri. You’re safe here for now.” He rested his hand on her knee, squeezed it comfortingly. “Good God, but I’m a handsome devil.”

  Savi burst into laughter, and it eased the nervous tension that had overtaken her. Whether Colin had done it for that purpose, or just to annoy the demon who sat down in the chair opposite the love seat, she didn’t know. How wonderfully insulting, for a human to laugh at a demon’s approach instead of fearing it, yet couching the statement in flattery.

  And the demon was a perfect replica, though his smile had a hard cast to it, his gray eyes without the lively humor she’d come to adore in Colin’s. He’d altered his hair since the DMV photo had been taken, smoothing the rumpled golden strands into a neat cut.

  The change wasn’t unexpected; demons’ egos disallowed them from disappearing completely into another persona. The physical features remained the same, but minute adjustments in mannerism and style reflected the demon inside.

  She worried her bottom lip with her teeth as she studied him. Something else was different, though she couldn’t determine exactly what it was.

  The demon met her gaze, then glanced down at Sir Pup. For an instant, uneasiness flickered across his face. But the public venue gave them no more advantage than it did him, and his expression changed to mockery.

  “Given the legend that you have created for yourself amongst the vampire communities here and in London, I had wondered what sort of vampire I would find. But it is a pathetic, neutered one, using a hellhound for protection and bargaining with a human for blood. I wonder that I should even bother to kill you; you would do well to end it yourself.”

  The demon must’ve heard Colin speaking, yet he didn’t try to
emulate the vampire perfectly. He used a clipped, almost ridiculously posh accent; for the first time, given the comparison, Savi could hear his century in the U.S. in Colin’s voice.

  But if the demon intended to make Colin feel inferior, he must not have studied the vampire very well.

  Colin erased every bit of American inflection as he said, “Already one is bored. Is originality impossible amongst demonkind? With such a face, you ought to be fascinating, brilliantly innovative; instead, you rely on ye olde demon routine and exhibit the inimitability of a BBC news anchor. One finds oneself utterly disappointed.”

  Savi couldn’t discern much difference between demon and vampire, but from the subtle tightening of the demon’s face, Colin had outclassed him.

  Savi took it as her cue. Many demons didn’t handle insult well, and they were more likely to talk when angry or defensive. “Lilith would’ve had you jumping from a bridge at this point, and she was only a halfling.”

  “Not a bridge. That passed out of fashion years ago.” Colin shuddered facetiously, then raked his gaze over the demon’s form, the pinstriped three-piece suit and red tie, the fat diamond pinkie ring. Apparently satisfied he’d made his point, he eased back into his hybrid accent. “With that in mind, I should lend you access to my closet. I can hardly allow you to go about impersonating me dressed as an oversexed gangster. Neutered, indeed. People will begin to think me all mouth and trousers.”

  Though his eyes briefly flared red, the demon’s lips tilted in amusement. “You do well to enjoy yourself now. You have not much longer to live.”

  “That is unfortunate. Though time is relative when one is immortal; ‘not much longer’ can mean so many things: a day, a year, a century,” Colin said easily. “Pray do not keep me in suspense, and tell me which it will be.”

  “I believe your suspense will not come from anticipation of your demise, but of hers.”

  Savi’s eyes widened, and Colin’s fingers tightened on her knee.

  “Then I shall have sixty years, at the very least.” His lazy tone didn’t change, but steel lay beneath it now.

  “I rather doubt it.” The demon’s gaze shifted to her. “Your continued existence is a thorn in my side, Savitri Murray. I intend to pluck you out.”

  “A human?” Colin mocked him openly. “You concern yourself with a human?”

  “Who has inconvenienced me to an intolerable degree. I am not above revenge.” He smiled to himself. “I’m far below it.”

  But what could have—“The nosferatu on the plane,” Savi realized.

  “Yes. It promised to be such a rewarding alliance. You cannot imagine how limiting it is to be bound by the Rules. We cannot kill humans, we cannot go against their free will. One would have thought closing Hell’s Gates would have given us a reprieve, but alas, no.”

  “But the nosferatu had been a convenient way around that,” she said.

  “And now vampires are,” Colin said. “Also less bother, as we do not pose a threat to you as the nosferatu might have done.”

  Most vampires wouldn’t, but Colin probably could; was he downplaying his strength? His difference?

  The demon leaned forward, placed his elbows on his knees. His voice lowered conspiratorially. “Oh, but you cannot imagine my pleasure in coming into this community, searching for the woman who caused me such distress, and finding that she was connected to a vampire such as yourself. The vampire who had caused such a stir in the London community when he came searching for me. The vampire whom those in San Francisco looked to for leadership, but who denied them—and left them in disarray. The vampire who could keep me in the lifestyle I prefer, with little effort on my part. It’s a very convenient setup; all it wanted was my initiative. I attain the wealth I need and the sycophants I desire.” He steepled his fingers, pointed at Savi. “And they are all too willing to carry out a minimal task to prove their fealty—the one task I cannot perform.”

  Asking the vampires to kill her. Savi glanced quickly at Colin’s face. Anger whitened his lips, drew his skin tight over his cheeks and brow.

  “Why are they waiting?” she wondered aloud. There had been plenty of opportunities to take her out—and for the demon to attempt an attack on Colin, as well. She narrowed her eyes. “And why are you warning us?”

  “He cannot help himself, sweet,” Colin said, his mouth curling into a thin smile. “He’s a living cliché; there is no one to congratulate him but himself, and his villainous monologue allows him the pathetic comfort of self-aggrandizement.”

  Savi nodded. “Next he’ll be killing his henchmen.”

  “Laugh between yourselves, if you must; it only increases my pleasure. This disgusting relationship you have developed is ripe with entertainment value.” The demon gestured between the two of them. “How gratifying his fear will be, anticipating the moment he fails to protect you. His anguish when he sees your lifeless body. I’ll likely kill him while I dance over it. And your terror, knowing the painful end that is near. For me, the wait is almost as satisfying as the act.”

  Sir Pup sat up when the demon rose to his feet; Savi placed her hand on the scruff of his neck.

  “So begin your month; you will not see the end of it. The next full moon will rise over your graves.” Staring down at the hellhound, the demon flared his eyes again, then turned back to Savi with a wide grin. “And you need not worry about explaining your whorish behavior to your sweet grandmother. My new allies are delivering a message to her…right about now.”

  Colin’s arm around her waist stopped her from launching herself at him. She struggled silently, and the demon laughed, a low and contemptuous rumble.

  “Vampires,” he said, shaking his head. “Much more effective than the INS. And you’ve only yourself to blame, Savitri Murray. You hid your connection well—I wouldn’t have known of her if you hadn’t had such an irresponsible youth. Perhaps a bridge is in order, no matter how passé. Or the gun you have would do the trick.” He pointed to his temple, cocked his thumb. “Bang.”

  He disappeared; perhaps Colin had seen him leave, but it had been too quick for Savi.

  “Let’s go, let’s go—” Her voice broke. Colin swept her up and carried her through the café. They were at his car within a moment’s time.

  “Call Castleford. Warn them.” The tires squealed as he pulled into the street, then he was using his phone as well, asking for Detective Taylor.

  She got Hugh’s voice mail. Tried Lilith’s. No answer.

  Red and blue lights flashed behind them.

  “They had better fucking keep up,” Colin growled, and shifted. The engine wound from a purr to a roar. He looked over at her, and his mouth tightened. “I’ll get you there, Savi.”

  She nodded numbly, though she knew there was only so much he could do. The distance wasn’t far, but it wasn’t about speed; it was about momentum, and something she’d started long ago. And about being too late to stop it.

  CHAPTER 17

  I will accede to his request, though I am convinced that, of that party in Switzerland, his wife was the sole being who emerged with a bit of sense. God love intelligent women—though she was far too kind to her monster: she did not make him the originator of his curse. And she was far too kind to her doctor, for not forcing him to bear it.

  —Colin to Ramsdell, 1822

  “Ohmygod, ohmygod.” Savi didn’t recognize the low, panicked chant as hers when the restaurant came into view. The front windows were shattered, and one missing completely. No lights shone from inside; it was impossible to see if anyone was moving around. Small, dark holes peppered the front door and stucco façade.

  Bullet holes?

  She pulled on the handle before Colin screeched to a halt. The scent of burnt rubber assaulted her nose; her ears rang with the approaching sirens and the bystanders’ questioning cries. Colin was instantly at her door, took her hand, tucked her into his right side. The length of his sword flashed on his left.

  “She’s alive, Savi,” he said, but hi
s tone warned her that all wasn’t well.

  They didn’t bother with the front door; her boots crunched the glass as she jumped through the window, as her eyes adjusted to the dark.

  A large, masculine form was bending over a prone figure. “Hugh?” She ran to his side, fell to her knees. He was holding Nani. Blood streaked the side of her neck, her stomach. “Oh, god.”

  “I need you to hold it, Savi. I’ve got to see to the others.” Hugh gestured to the wadded sash he’d pressed to Nani’s side. The shoulder of his white T-shirt was crimson. “The blood on her neck is mine; I didn’t get her down quickly enough. But Dru is on her way.”

  A Guardian—a Healer. Nani only had to make it until she arrived. Nodding frantically, Savi took over, applying pressure. Too hard. Nani moaned a little, stirred. Her eyelashes fluttered.

  “No, Nani…don’t wake up. I know it hurts,” she said quietly, pushed back a loose strand of hair from Nani’s perspiring forehead. Colin crouched beside her. “Can you make her sleep?”

  Outside, the scream of the sirens grew louder, then cut off with the squeal of brakes.

  Colin leaned down, spoke into Nani’s ear. Her body relaxed, though her breath was still shallow, her pulse thready.

  “Colin,” Hugh said, looking up from a flesh wound on Geetha’s arm. “Lilith went after them.”

  Savi glanced between them. He meant he wanted Colin to go offer Lilith backup, if she needed it.

  Anticipation, merciless and hard, flashed over Colin’s features. “Do you want any alive?”

  Hugh had turned back to Geetha, but the coldness in his voice could’ve answered for him. “One. For questioning.”

  Colin nodded and gently caressed Savi’s cheek with the tips of his fingers. He no longer had his sword; he must have hidden it when the police arrived.

  “I’ve notified Taylor and Preston, love,” he said, his pale gaze holding hers. “They’ll be here shortly. They’ll have an idea of what truly happened, but Lilith will spin it to anyone else as a gang hit. It’ll go over.”