Demon Moon (15 page)

She gave a short, self-deprecating laugh. “I suppose it is only that I think of it as a judgment given without trial. Yet who are more its peers than the Guardians—and what's the alternative? That the nosferatu is released and Michael slays it when it attacks? That would be stupid.”

“We would all prefer it that way, Savi. Few of us are so cold-blooded that we can kill a nosferatu or a demon without wishing it had been done in self-defense.” He grinned suddenly. “But for me. I would stab one in the front
or
the back. It doesn't matter, so long as it's dead. But to unleash a nosferatu solely with the intention of killing it, and risking death or injury in the process? Stupid, indeed.”

“I know.” She laughed and shook her head again. “I keep saying that. Do you hate them?”

He didn't hesitate. “Yes.”

“Don't you pity them? They couldn't have known what they brought upon themselves by abstaining in the First Battle—or that they'd be cursed.”

“No. Their angelic intelligence must have been too great
not
to know the consequences. And so I save my pity for Anthony Ramsdell, his throat torn out on a battlefield. For my father and brother, and my brother's wife, whom a nosferatu set afire whilst they slept. For your friends.”

“For the four hundred on the flight the week before mine,” she murmured.

“Yes.”

She held his gaze. “But also for what they had been, though it doesn't excuse their cruelty now. Even the most intelligent creatures are foolish, sometimes.”

“And is there room in you for forgiveness of cruelty? Or are his offenses too great?” Colin asked softly.

She searched his eyes and didn't know if the need she saw there was genuine, but she couldn't halt her smile. “Are we speaking of the nosferatu?”

His answering smile was slow and wide, and her gaze fell to his lips. “Of course, my sweet Savitri,” he said and leaned forward. His body pressed hard against hers; his mouth swept past her temple.

Her blood pounded. Her nipples tightened as textured velvet brushed over thin cotton.

His warmth disappeared.

She blinked, spun around—he'd returned to his seat on the opposite side of the bar. “What was that for?”

His brows rose, and he glanced down. A notepad and pen lay in front of him; they'd been beside the phone a moment before. “They were behind you,” he said with patently fake innocence.

She rolled her eyes. “You intend to take messages?”

“No. I
had
intended to tell you stories, but the past week has convinced me I need to find another way to win you over. My two centuries of life cannot compete with their combined three millennia; I must take advantage of their absence as best I can. Isaac Newton,” he said in disgust.

“So what are you doing instead?” She stood on her toes in an attempt to see.

He tilted the pad toward his chest. “Piquing your curiosity. You've never seen Lilith as a demon, have you?”

Her eyes widened. “No. I saw a fuzzy picture from a traffic camera, but she was mostly in human form. Just the wings.”

“Have you yet seen any demon?” He looked briefly over the top of the page.

“Rael…Congressman Stafford came to SI once when I was there. But he wasn't in a demon form.”

Colin paused. “Castleford allowed you contact with him?”

Was that anger in his voice? “No. I was asking Jeeves a few questions about the temperature sensors in the corridor when he came in. I just saw him; I didn't talk to him. And I've seen him on TV, of course.” She sighed and placed a few dishes in the sink, ran the water to wash them. “I voted for him in the last election.”

“He may have been the lesser of two evils, particularly as he was instrumental in funding Special Investigations,” Colin said. “Though, as it is to his advantage to support SI in Washington, it is unfortunately
not
to the Guardians' advantage to slay him.”

“And I have yet another demon to thank for a job.”

“Has Lilith located the agent who recruited you?” He flipped the page over, and started on a new drawing.

“We know that he left his position in Homeland Security eight months ago. And he disappeared from any records after that—no financial transactions, no address, nothing. So it's likely he was a demon, and went Below before the Gates closed. Or rogue. Either way, he isn't around to carry out his threat to Nani.”

“Will you leave SI then?”

“Probably as soon as I get married. Right now it's just too interesting.” She bit her lip, shook the suds from her hands. He remained concentrated on his sketch. “You're killing me.”

Colin laughed, a note of triumph in the deep tones. He slid the notepad across the countertop. “There you are, Savi. Lilith.”

“Oh, my—this is incredible.” He'd captured Lilith's face and posture perfectly, standing with her sword ready, her smile wicked. The ink drawing had simple lines, but contained extraordinary detail: the smooth curving horns near her temples; fangs that rivaled a nosferatu's in length; taloned, prehensile feet and large, batlike wings; the scrolling symbol etched between her breasts.

“I thought she wore boots—like she does when she's at work.” He'd only included her corset and knee-length breeches.

“She did at times.”

“And with red skin?”

“Yes.”

“She's beautiful, but also…”

“Frightening?”

Savi met Colin's gaze. “Yes. Do all of the others look like this?”

“I don't know; Beelzebub took a human form when he came to my house. Lilith has told me Belial retained his angelic form, but she didn't elaborate on his appearance.”

She nodded absently and turned the page to the second drawing. Her mouth fell open. “Ohmygod.”

It was unmistakably Savi, though he'd drawn her in a Japanese manga style: impossibly long legs and oversized
chibi
eyes, her spiked hair defying the laws of gravity. He'd pictured her wearing a tiny skirt, leaning against the kitchen counter in a naïvely seductive pose.

Her laugh was astonished…horrified. “Is this how you see me? Like a schoolgirl?”

“No,” he grinned unapologetically. “It's how I'd
like
to see you.”

How could that be better? But it was. “How would you draw yourself?”

“In the same manner?” At her nod, he took back the pad. “You've quite a large collection in your flat; I glanced through several volumes last month.”

“After you put Nani to sleep?”

“Before. She apologized for your choice of entertainment.”

“She would.”

He frowned, studying the page. “I'm most familiar with the animated style, and I don't practice—so it may not be correctly rendered.”

“No, it's not,” she said, though her mouth dried when he showed her the slender swordsman wearing a long duster, his chin tilted down and his forehead against the flat blade of his weapon, as if he were praying. “The clothes are right, but all of the beautiful heroes have long, flowing hair. And secretive, meaningful expressions. You've got a big smile.” Like a villain.

“To expose my fangs. And brooding is so very tedious, don't you agree?”

“It's supposed to be sexy.” God, smiling was sexy, too. She was sick, lusting after a drawing. Lusting after the model. “Or soulful.” Colin wasn't that, at least. She glanced up at him. “Do you really like being a vampire?”

“Of course. I love nothing more.”

Her chest tightened as she looked back down at the drawing. She'd have loved it, as well. She'd wished for it—but she should've known better than to wish. It never accomplished anything, except to bring disappointment when it didn't come true. Better to just live as hard as possible, and be grateful for what she had. But Colin…

“Wouldn't you rather be a Guardian?”

“Trade freedom and blood for endless service?” Colin stared at her in disbelief.

She shook her head. “No, I can see why you like the freedom. I would, too. What I mean is: Why doesn't it bother you that vampires are the third-class citizens of the—” Netherworld? Underworld? Caelum couldn't be considered either
nether
or
under
. “—Otherworld?”

“They're not. You're mistaken, Savi,” he said. His mouth set in a firm line, and his eyes hardened.

“No, I don't think so. Have you ever heard the description of a vampire in the Scrolls? Hugh told me once.
The descendents of nosferatu, vampires are no threat except to humankind. If their bloodlust does not endanger human life, Guardians may allow them to live
. And that's pretty much it, aside from an instruction of how to transform a human who has been drained by a vampire or nosferatu.”

“Was that your brilliant translation from the Latin?”

She sucked in a sharp breath. “Yes. But I'm just saying that even though vampires were human once, neither Guardians nor demons have to honor a vampire's free will or their right to live. It doesn't matter if they're slain or not—even if the vampires
aren't
endangering humans, there's no consequence for killing one. And they're kept ignorant, even though the first vampires were made by Guardians. Like you were made by Guardians.”

“I can hardly be lumped among the ignorant. You, however, apparently can. You know all of fifteen vampires—are any considered unequal to Guardians except in strength?”

“No, because Hugh and Lilith brought them into SI with the purpose of teaching them. Training them. But as far as I can tell, they were the first not to see vampires as a nuisance, and to see that vampires could be useful now that there are so few Guardians.” Was he really so blind? “Maybe you don't notice it because you're some kind of supervampire, and your brother-in-law and friends were Guardians and a halfling demon. It provides a nice ivory tower for you to languish in.”

His face darkened. “
I
live in an ivory tower? You've no bloody fucking idea of what I—” He broke off and half-rose in his chair, and Savi stumbled back from the counter.

Colin stilled. A muscle in his jaw worked. “Did I frighten you?”

“No. But it's an appropriate reaction when an angry vampire lunges my way.”

A thin smile curved his mouth. “So it is.” He stalked out of the room.

Savi stood dumbstruck in the center of the kitchen, her heart pounding, wondering if she should follow him. She didn't have to go far; she found him in the living room, staring up at the painting of Caelum. His hands were tucked into his pockets, his eyes shadowed beneath his brows.

“Will you invite me in tonight?” His voice was once again subdued, quiet.

He asked
now
? When she was upset and—oh, god, it shouldn't be this hard to refuse. She had a billion reasons; she could only remember one, and only because it was right in front of him.

“I did that once.”

He nodded. The light washing over Caelum glinted off the gold of his hair. “Please offer my apologies to Castleford and Lilith when they emerge.”

“You're leaving?” Dismay tightened her voice.

“You will apparently feed everyone tonight except me, so I must find someone more willing elsewhere.” His lips brushed her forehead as he passed her. “Good night, Savitri.”

Perhaps it was best that her throat ached unbearably; she couldn't call him back. But there was no reason for her chest to hurt so much when the door closed behind him.

Heavy, early-evening traffic prevented Colin from speeding through the streets. He veered into the left lane on Clarendon, then slammed the brakes and ground his teeth together when the bastard in front of him halted at a stoplight.

Sod this. The Bentley purred eagerly when he revved the engine. He waited for a lull in the cross-traffic, then tore past the bastard and screeched through the intersection, making a right turn onto Seventeenth. There would be plenty of humans in The Castro to choose from, whether tourists or residents, and the hunt would take his mind from the scene in Castleford's kitchen—though he doubted any could ease the hunger and frustration building inside him.

An ivory tower. Fucking ridiculous.
She
was the one holding herself on a pedestal, forcing him to beg for scraps, never letting him in. What did she want from him? Would she be satisfied if he went down on his knees and groveled for forgiveness?

Christ. If his need became much worse and if she withheld her flavor much longer, he probably would.

He drove through the center of the district and parked in the first available space. Brightly colored flags fluttered from streetlamp posts and store fronts. The night air was crisp and dry, and he stalked down the pavement, searching each face, touching each mind. So many choices, and all so appreciative of his beauty: the neatly dressed, bald male sitting alone in a deli who rose up from his seat by the window to keep Colin in sight as long as possible; the blond woman who turned and walked backward, gesturing wildly to her friends that they should
look
. Easy prey.