Demon Moon

by Meljean Brook

  “More like something Dalkiel would do.”

  “Yes.”

  Her gaze moved past him, surveyed the dance floor. “Perhaps half and half. I think some appreciate it; others would be swayed by your coming to them.” Looking back at him, she rose up on her toes, pressed a kiss to his jaw.

  Oh, sweet heaven. The soft touch of her lips. The warmth of her skin. And all too quickly gone as she lowered back to her heels.

  “I’m still feeling my way around. I never expected you to care what I thought or said.”

  To respond as he’d like would be to take her there on the sofa. He fought the flare of resentment that they couldn’t leave, that he still had too much to do before taking her home, where they wouldn’t have to speak in whispers and guard every word against the ears of those he meant to win over.

  He only nodded, his mouth tightly closed, refusing to draw breath. Bless her perspicacity. She stepped away from him, stooping to pat Sir Pup’s head.

  “Pup,” he said quietly. “Grow up a bit.”

  The hellhound sat down and licked his front paw. When he stood up, Savi didn’t have to bend to reach him. Subtly done, though someone watching carefully would have noticed.

  “Stay at her feet, and kill anyone who tries to touch her.” Colin hesitated before taking her hand. At times, the hellhound followed commands too well. “But for me.”

  Sir Pup grinned at him, then fell into step beside her as they began a round of the tables. They stopped to chat with the humans, playing the club owner ascertaining his clients’ satisfaction.

  With the vampires, he dropped the pretense, though not the charm—and had to fight his frustration again when he didn’t find the resistance he’d hoped for from the first few groups. Worse, they asked few questions, despite the myriad leading statements Savi and he made.

  Any brainless sod could herd sheep; he needed to find the wolves, and bloodlessly tame them.

  While Savi told four vampires how to access a hidden level in the DemonSlayer video game, Colin searched out Fia again, caught her eye. Who likely resents my presence here more than any other? Someone with influence.

  Darkwolf and his consorts, Arwen and Gina. You’ve seen them before. He was the one who questioned your feeding from humans that night Paul and I met you.

  Christ. Darkwolf? His exasperation must have shown on his face; across the club, Fia began laughing at him. He couldn’t hear it, but he could easily sense her psychic amusement.

  Fia’s not my real name, either, she told him, grinning, and then signed Darkwolf’s location on the second level.

  On the stairwell, Colin pushed Savi against the wall and buried his face in her neck. Her surprise and arousal broke through her carefully constructed shields; he stiffened against her, but his gaze was approving when he pulled back to look at her.

  “Just like this, sweet,” he murmured. “Keep them down but slightly, so they feel your need for me. They don’t have the ability to look deeply, but they’ll sense this.”

  “What about the wyrmwolves?”

  “They’ve only appeared when you’ve been completely open.” His lids lowered, and he stared at her throat for a moment before shaking himself. “And if one does make its appearance, it will only help our cause when I demonstrate my magnificent fencing technique, defeating the slavering monster, saving all and sundry.”

  She bit her lip to halt her automatic protest. It would also make it torturous for him. He hadn’t yet fed.

  As if reading the cause of her distress, he said, “We’ll leave directly after this; for now, my hunger is an asset, but I’ll not have control much longer with your shields down. Keep the pup by your hand. And we’ve still to expose your strength; if you find an opportunity for a display, take it.”

  She tried to think of a subtle demonstration as they climbed the stairs, but the new tension in Colin’s form distracted her from all but the most melodramatic scenarios. Sir Pup licked her palm reassuringly as they approached a table in the corner of the lounge; somewhere between the first and second floors, he’d grown another couple of inches and his appearance took on a wolfish cast.

  Three vampires sat around the table; two of them, Savi deduced, must be Darkwolf and Arwen: the tall male with dark skin, a clean-shaven head, and a howling-wolf tattoo on his left forearm, wearing a leather vest and spiked wristbands; and the fragile, ethereal brunette, who wouldn’t have been out of place in Rivendell. Beside them, a female who didn’t hide the suspicious anger tightening her full lips.

  Like everyone else Colin had spoken with, they had a brief moment of disconcertment as he moved close enough for them to really see him. Anger quickly replaced it on Darkwolf’s and Arwen’s faces, coupled with slight unease.

  The suspicious female was more outspoken in her reaction. “What the fuck did you just do to us?”

  “Gina,” Arwen admonished softly, but her gaze remained hard as amethyst as she stared at Colin, then at Savi. “We’re his guests. If he chooses to exercise his power over us for his pleasure, we’ve only ourselves to blame for accepting the invitation.”

  “There’s no need to blame anyone. He can’t help it,” Savi said. She turned and dragged an empty chair from the next table. Breaking the metal frame in half would have made a fantastic show of strength, but would have likely been misinterpreted as an attack. Not to mention, beating up a chair would look ridiculous. “It goes away the better you know him.”

  Colin nodded. “Please accept my apologies for your discomfort. It is unwittingly done, and my consort speaks the truth: the longer the acquaintance, the less effect it has.”

  She allowed him to pull her down onto his lap, straddling his right thigh. His hand rested on her hip; the weapon strapped above her knee would be immediately available to him.

  She doubted they knew Sir Pup had countless others in his hammerspace.

  Darkwolf’s mouth was closed, but she saw the movement of his tongue beneath his lips, as if he was running it over his fangs. Telling Colin that he was not without his own weapons, Savi realized.

  A vampire who wouldn’t rely on blades and bullets. It was oddly reassuring.

  “You speak as if you expect our acquaintance to be of a long enough duration that it would matter to us,” Darkwolf said. “It doesn’t. We’ve no use for a vampire who flaunts the very tradition and law that has kept us safe for centuries.”

  Colin smiled lazily; his manner still easy, but no longer flirtatious. “You’re mistaken,” he said. “Nosferatu and demonkind would have eradicated or enslaved us centuries ago had not Guardians held them in check; your safety has come neither from tradition nor law, but from Caelum.”

  The word elicited neither surprise nor puzzlement in their expressions—but then, they could have read Hugh’s book or played DemonSlayer. Probably had done both.

  And the dubious glance Arwen and Darkwolf exchanged indicated they knew very well it wasn’t a fictitious place.

  “We have Guardians to thank for our continued survival?” Arwen shook her head. “I think not. Except for the nosferatu last year, the only beings who’ve ever posed a danger to vampires have been the Guardians.”

  That was likely true—but twisted in such a way Savi wouldn’t have been surprised if Dalkiel had been the one to bring that truth to their attention. “You personally knew vampires who’ve been killed by them?”

  The color had to be the result of contact lenses, but the effect was still striking when Arwen leveled that purple gaze at her. “Yes, little human.”

  “And what kind of vampires were they?” Savi asked. Little human. Hobbits had saved Middle Earth; Arwen should really know better. “I bet not someone you’d like to have over for a sip from your neck.”

  Arwen blinked quickly and looked away from Savi, toward Darkwolf.

  “They were all assholes,” Gina said. “Mostly rogues. Taking blood from humans, killing others. The kind of vampires the elders—if we’d had any left—would have convened a court for and judged.”
She snarled and turned to Darkwolf when he made a motion for her to hush. “I told you fuckers this after the blond demonfucker told us all that shit, but you stupid assholes wouldn’t listen, were all ‘Vampire Power!’ and—”

  “Gina,” Arwen said softly.

  Savi had to hide her grin when she felt the tiny tremor of Colin’s laughter against her back. Her amusement quickly died when his fingers skimmed over her hip, across her bare stomach. A light shiver of arousal ran over her skin.

  “You knew he was a demon.” Colin gave no indication of his triumph, though Gina’s outburst had helped them enormously.

  Savi fought to keep her thoughts coherent as he raked his nails up the inside of her thigh. Why? She could have held her shields, never given indication of his manipulation—or his lies, if he used them—through psychic scent or expression.

  Then Darkwolf drew a deep breath, shifted in his seat, and Savi saw the purpose behind the tactic: they’d be distracted by her need. By Colin’s escalating bloodlust.

  “We’d watched you for months. Your habits. Nothing matched up.” The tattoo on Darkwolf’s forearm undulated as he drummed his fingers on the table, and he leaned back to sling his left arm over Arwen’s shoulders. “And suddenly you’re interested in leading us? Willing to share blood, and to stop feeding from humans? It didn’t make sense.” He flicked a glance at Savi before returning his attention to Colin. “It still doesn’t, but at least there’s no doubt you’re a vampire.”

  No, not just a distraction, she realized. The bloodlust was a tie, a commonality which the demon could never share.

  “I’ve no intention of giving up human blood or sharing mine,” Colin said. “And I’ll admit my first impulse was to let him drag you all to Hell with him.”

  Oh, god. Apparently, he wasn’t going to lie or attempt to charm them. A breathless tension hovered over the table for a moment as the vampires seemed to decide whether to take offense—or to take his blunt declaration as an indication of his readiness to have honesty between them, even if that honesty didn’t endear him to them.

  Finally, Darkwolf’s eyes narrowed. “What changed your mind?”

  “I find the demon’s use of my face and my name most disagreeable. Offensive, even.”

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Gina muttered.

  “I’ve no idea.” Colin’s tone held a hint of amusement. “But my vanity is nothing to my willingness to accede to Miss Murray’s determination not to let you fall slave to the demon’s yoke.”

  A smile touched Arwen’s lips as she cast a speculative glance at Savi; the sharp little points of her teeth made an appearance. Savi repressed her shiver. With Colin, with Darkwolf, the fangs fit. In Arwen’s pretty mouth, they were unexpected, and all the more sinister for the surprise.

  “Do you intend to become like us, little human?”

  Colin’s thigh tensed beneath her, but she rested her hand on his knee, squeezed lightly. Biting back her anger was difficult, but anger wouldn’t serve any purpose. Nor would asking Sir Pup to eat Arwen’s face.

  “I hope not,” Savi said. “I’ve got enough issues and my own prejudices to work through without adding ‘condescending vampire bigot’ to the list. What’s the point of that, really?” Remembering Gina’s outburst, she said, “Vampire Power? Let me guess: you want what Dalkiel had to offer you, but without Dalkiel attached?”

  Arwen waved a slim white hand toward the dance floor. “We’re stronger than them. Will outlive them. Yet we’re forced into the underbelly of the human world—and the Guardians’ and demons’ worlds. Why should it be that way? We should not have to beg for scraps from human society and mercy from the Guardians’ swords.”

  Savi shook her head. “It doesn’t have to be that way. But putting yourself above humans is the last thing you should do.”

  “So we should put ourselves below your Guardians?” Darkwolf’s gaze slid over to Colin. “Live by their whims and command? Serving the government, acting as informants against our own kind?”

  “Do you imagine we’re suggesting a trade? The demon’s yoke for the Guardians’? You mistake us.” Colin slid one of the sai blades from the sheath at Savi’s thigh, placed it on the table. As one, the three vampires stared down at the weapon. “If you want to follow tradition—and if your partner insists on insulting Miss Murray—you’re welcome to test your strength against mine. I’ll have no compunction smashing each of you beneath my heel; nor, by tradition, should you resent it when I do. As the most powerful of us, it is apparently my right to have those weaker than I bowing before me. So, please, prostrate yourselves. I prefer you do it smiling.”

  His voice took on a hard edge; his expression had the same cruel cast she’d seen before. Frustration lurked there, too; she didn’t need psychic abilities to read the tension in his body—a tension likely fed by the bloodlust.

  Would his patience have worn as thin if he hadn’t needed his hunger to establish that tie between them? His attempt to exploit their prejudice toward their own kind proved a double-edged sword.

  And though she knew he didn’t want to, if they left him no other alternative he would make his point with bloodshed. Not one vampire—or even several together—would have a chance against him. As no one moved to pick up the blade, they must have realized it, as well. Perhaps they’d seen him fight the wyrmwolf; if so, there could be no doubt of his ability to take out anyone who challenged him.

  Their fear wouldn’t engender their trust, though.

  And raising her shields might have eased his frustration and helped him regain control—but it also might lead them to think she was lying or hiding.

  Savi placed her hand on Sir Pup’s ruff and said in her halting Latin, “Remove knife table.”

  The sai disappeared; Darkwolf’s eyes widened and Arwen visibly startled, probably attributing it to her words, as if it had been a spell Savi had cast instead of Sir Pup’s hammerspace.

  Although to anyone unfamiliar with hammerspace, it would likely have been as amazing as a vanishing spell.

  “The problem is not power,” Savi said. “Not your lack of it compared to Guardians and demons, or the humans’ lack compared to you. Physical power means very little. Do you have any idea what happened last year? One human managed to trick Lucifer—Lucifer—into closing Hell’s Gates. Another found a way to rid the city of the nosferatu who slaughtered your elders. Guardians—and Colin—assisted, but it was humans who defeated them.”

  Colin released a long breath against the back of her neck. “What Miss Murray is trying to tell you is that your ignorance is dangerous by itself; but if you seek truth from demonkind, those answers will kill you. Or I will.”

  Gina’s eyes flashed with anger, and her lips pulled tight over her fangs. “It’s not as if you’ve been all that forthcoming with answers.”

  “No,” he agreed easily. “And I was in error.”

  As if deflated by his admission, she sat back and frowned at him. Arwen did the same. Not, Savi noted, looking to Darkwolf for his reaction, as they had only minutes before.

  Darkwolf’s wry smile told her he saw the difference, as well. “So this is your offer? To raise us from the depths of ignorance? I find it hard to believe, considering that you’re connected with an agency that has been nothing but secretive.”

  “Raise you?” Colin’s brows winged upward, and he shook his head, laughing softly. “No. I’ll make information available, and assist in reconstructing the community the nosferatu destroyed. But I’ll not prod you into action, or pat your head in reward. Dalkiel preys on this community because it is weak; I’ll give you the tools to strengthen it—and to resist any other demon who would take advantage of you.”

  “But he’s still powerful enough to kill us,” Arwen pointed out.

  “Yes. And so relations with the Guardians and Special Investigations must be maintained—they would kill any demon or nosferatu regardless, but with communication we can identify threats and remove them more quickly. Their secrecy is
not aimed at you, but to prevent the general public from panicking.”

  “At least for now,” Savi said. When Colin glanced at her in surprise, she clarified, “I don’t mean that Michael or SI will eventually keep things from vampires again. It’s too late for that, and the communication is too valuable.” Particularly with Guardian numbers still so low. “But that it won’t be long before humans find out. I imagine not more than a decade, at most.”

  “We’ve done well thus far, sweet. We’re not more than a dream to most, fiction in books and movies.”

  “Yes, but that was before satellites that can read license plates from space, and before Regular Joe could access those images from his home computer. Before the explosion in the vampire population. Before security cameras on every corner. Before hundreds of rogue demons fled Hell, and are—for the first time—acting for their gain rather than Lucifer’s. And how long do you think it’ll take before they stop fearing the repercussions of Lucifer’s anger if they are worshipped for themselves? The Gates are closed for five hundred years. Someone’s going to get cocky—already one demon grabs for power here. On a small scale, sure, but it’s still something he’d never have attempted if Lucifer had access to Earth.”

  Colin nodded thoughtfully. “If that’s the way it’s to be, then far better to align ourselves with beings who look like angels, and once were human.”

  “Yeah. Protection from demons and nosferatu is fine in the short term, but it’s humans and their reaction you’ll have to really worry about.” Savi glanced at Arwen, then Darkwolf. “And it’s important not just to have that link to Caelum and SI, but to keep the current partnership and bloodsharing structure. Now, feeding from humans isn’t allowed, but primarily for reasons of secrecy and community security. But if you start to think yourselves above them, feeding from them or thinking it’s okay to kill them, you’ll appear nothing more than parasites. The panic and the backlash upon public exposure will probably be bad enough—but add in vampires who think like demons and nosferatu, treating humankind with disdain, and you’re going to have seven billion people hunting you down. Those aren’t good odds.”