Demon Moon (33 page)

His brows drew together. Pulling away, he echoed, “A month?”

She couldn't interpret the sudden hardness in his eyes, the clench of his jaw. She looked at her hands fisted in her lap. She could do this. There was nothing left to lose, anyway. And if he said no, why not pile one rejection on top of another?

“A month. Just me. I'll give you as much blood as I can; I've been looking at donation and testing sites to see how much is safe. And I'll look for any drugs that will keep me from becoming too anemic, and boost my blood production. And if you supplement with animal…I know you can't for long, not more than a month or two.”

Probably not two; he'd had to rely on animal blood the year before, and it took time to rebuild immunity against it. Years, for most vampires, but he was stronger than most.

“I don't want you to get to the point that its degenerative effects begin to slow you down, or make you sick, especially not with a demon impersonating you. And if it's only a month you'll be at full strength again within a couple of days of regular feeding—”

“Stop, Savi.”

She bit her lip, held her breath.

“Look at me.”

She was too afraid. “Tell me first.”

His silence stretched her lungs tight, knotted her stomach.

“On the condition that you move into my house for the duration,” he finally said. “I want you readily available to me.”

She exhaled, and a relieved smile curved her lips as she met his eyes. “Won't that be like scavenging?”

“
And
on the condition that you never remember anything I said to you when I was being an ass.”

“There won't be many conversations to recall, then.”

“No.” He brought her hand to his lips, watching her over the kiss he pressed to her fingers. The tip of his tongue swept into the sensitive juncture between her middle and ring fingers, streaked a wet line of heat from her hand to her sex.

“Let's go,” she breathed, and tried to pull her hand from his, get to her feet. She might as well have tried to escape a singularity. Yes, she'd likely already crossed that critical point. Nothing to do now but let it take her.

“Your impatience is flattering, but I'm too aggrieved to give in so easily; you have completely disrupted my plan to seduce you into my bed tonight. I'd thought of witty observations, romantic lyrics designed to sweep you off your feet. Yet all my scheming has gone to waste.”

He smiled against her hand when she laughed, but he made no effort to move.

“One more condition: If you'll make a list, I'll procure any medications you require through Ramsdell—but if the drugs have side effects, don't use them.” His eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and his voice carried a thread of something that sounded like wonder…or hope. “And it's possible that with your new strength, you'll not need them.”

She shook her head and turned her palm over. He glanced down at the jagged cut, just beginning to scab over; then back up, his brow lifted in query.

“It's not healing at an accelerated rate. I doubt my blood production has increased. In vampires and Guardians, the two seem to go together.”

His lashes lowered as he examined the wound again. “I could heal it for you with my blood—as I did before.”

She curled her fingers, covered her palm. “No. Some scars are better to carry. This one will remind me to be careful of my shields, so that I don't endanger those around me by attracting wyrmwolves.”

“You cannot forget.”

“No, but I don't always think.” She tried not to laugh at his affronted stare. “You were being an ass then—but you were right.”

“If I was right, then I suppose it is acceptable to mention it.” His hand lifted from the back of the love seat, and he tweaked a short strand of hair near her temple. “We shall have a matching pair, Savitri.”

She glanced down as he spread his fingers, turned his palm up. The overhead lights shone on the ridge of the clean, straight scar. His hand, so strong and elegant.

She clenched her thighs together, remembering how easily he had brought her pleasure that afternoon. Thinking of how desperately she wanted it again. She had to swallow before she said, “It's comforting to know that you have
one
flaw.”

He gave a short, deep laugh, exposing his fangs before he dipped his chin and hid them. He slanted her an upward glance, his eyes bright with amusement. “I hate to cause you discomfort, my sweet Savitri, but this is not a flaw.”

She arched an eyebrow. “No? It's brought
you
much discomfort. Don't you resent the sword's effects? You don't enjoy the…the—” Unwilling to say “Chaos” aloud, she settled for, “—what you see in the mirror.”

“No.” He leaned back, his elbow propped against the back of the sofa, and he rested his chin on his loosely curled fist as he studied her. “But it is a price worth paying.”

“For not immediately burning in the sun? Extra strength? Giving an orgasm with a sip?”

His lips quirked. “You make my argument for me.” Then he sobered, and said, “Ramsdell and Emily were also tainted; it is not for myself I am grateful, but for them. What it gave them.”

She quickly reviewed everything she knew of the couple. “But I thought there hadn't been any lingering—” Her lips rounded as she realized, “Oh, my god. I hadn't really calculated the date before, their age. He'd been a Guardian, so it didn't strike me as unusual, but she…and on the same night?”

“Yes.” His throat worked, and a sheen rose in his eyes before he turned his head in profile. “I didn't expect it for several more years. Perhaps another quarter century. They never appeared much older than fifty, though they were over twice that and ridiculously healthy.” He expelled a long breath, smiled slightly as if in memory. “I heard them in their room. She said she was a bit tired, and he said that perhaps it was time to see what came next.”

Oh, god. She could hardly speak past the lump in her throat. “Colin—” Her hands shook as she touched his shoulders, his jaw.

“I found them in their bed, wrapped in each other's arms, as if that was exactly what they'd done—turned to each other, and left to see what came next. If their faces were any indication, whatever they found together was perfect. Beautiful.” His eyes locked with hers, and the moisture pooled there seemed to flood hers. “It gave them that, Savitri. A bit of Hell is nothing.”

She couldn't respond; only look at him, touch him. Her fingers traced his brow, the angular beauty of his cheekbones.

He sighed, caught her wrists. “Oh, sweet, don't cry. I can't bear it.”

“Then don't tell me stories like that. I'm such a sucker for happy endings. It's my mother's fault,” she whispered, and leaned forward to bury her face in his neck. She'd have given anything for her family to have had something like that, instead of violence and fear. “Do you miss them?”

“Every bloody day.” His arms tightened around her, and his voice was rough in her ear. “No more crying. I shall have to punish you if you stain my sweater with your tears. It has quickly become my favorite.”

She choked on her laughter. When she pulled back, he had a handkerchief ready, and she gratefully mopped her face with it. She glanced around them; everyone on the other seats and sofas was looking intently at something else.

“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.”