Demon Moon (42 page)

“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.”

“You think about this far too much,” Colin said, pressing a kiss against her temple.

She smiled, arching her brow as she turned to look at him. Though his voice had been teasing, his gaze was dark, speculative. “Someone has to. It's going to happen. And though it will help that vampires were once human, and some might have family living who'll stand up for them, the only real defense is to set up the vampire communities like they are model minorities: self-sustaining, yet still economically valuable in the greater human society. And, to all appearances, safe.”

“That's fucked up,” Gina said.

Colin grimaced, tilting his head back to stare up at the ceiling. “It will chafe, won't it?”

Savi patted his leg. “Don't worry. With luck, it'll only be that way for a century or so.”

He looked down at her and grinned, but it faded when Arwen asked, “And will you be feeding from humans in a century or so? Are you going to turn her?”

“No,” he said softly, holding her gaze. “I can't transform her; my blood would kill her.”

She sighed and leaned back against him. Every vampire in the club likely felt the hollow despair in her psychic scent, but there was no point in concealing it. “And I can't be transformed; I'd probably die.”

Gina looked between them, a furrow of confusion on her brow. A touch of pity around her lush mouth. “That's fucked up, too.”

“Yes,” Colin agreed.

Colin waited with barely restrained impatience as Levitt checked the exterior security cameras in anticipation of their exit. All in all, their first foray had gone well. Eventually, he'd have to thrash someone rather than simply threaten it, but it wouldn't be that evening. When Savi and he had left Darkwolf's party, they'd still been tense and slightly confused; Colin imagined they'd discuss the situation the whole of the night, agreeing on what an ass he'd been, but eventually coming to the same conclusion: he'd be more valuable helping the community than fighting them.

It was unfortunate he'd resorted to the threat of violence; unbelievable, how quickly his control had deteriorated.

Apparently, Savi had come to a similar conclusion. Beneath the bulletproof headgear, her eyes were amused—and dark with anticipation. “Charm and bloodlust don't mesh well,” she observed.

The corners of his lips lifted in a wry smile. “No, indeed.” Luckily, it was a tactic he only needed to use once. They'd no doubt he was a vampire. “In the future, I'll feed prior to leaving the house.”

Levitt gave his all-clear signal, and the locks clicked open.

“We could do it in the car.”

Christ. He was so desperate for her, he probably wouldn't last the distance to his house. But he refused to succumb to his bloodlust in the parking lot, where Levitt would see Savitri tupped by an invisible man on-camera.

He shouldn't have given Paul and Fia the suite as their living quarters. He shouldn't have—

The odor of fresh blood struck him a second after he opened the door and stepped outside, Savi's hand in his. He paused, his body blocking hers from attack. At her heels, Sir Pup barked a warning and shifted instantaneously into his three-headed form.

But death had already come; there was nothing to fight. A woman's severed head had been impaled on the Jaguar's hood ornament, her mouth open and her fangs exposed by a twisted grimace. Her eyes had been ripped away.

Tension dug its claws into his spine; Colin tore his gaze from the macabre display, opened his senses, and scanned the lot.

Nothing.

Savi's hand flexed against his, and he felt the slide of fabric against his back as she rose onto her toes, as if to look over his shoulder. Bloody hell. He pushed her back in and slammed the door closed, but not quickly enough.

“Ohmygod,” she whispered, then began gagging.

The thick, heavy scent of the vampire's lifeblood saturated the air within the small room; despite his hunger, his fury overwhelmed his bloodlust.

She wouldn't forget.

“My sword, pup.” The blade appeared in Colin's palm; he turned toward Levitt.

The vampire glanced up from the monitors, horror etching his features into a stark mask. It rapidly changed to terror.

“It wasn't there a second ago! I fucking swear, man!”

Johnson whimpered softly, backed up against the wall, and closed his eyes, his arms rising protectively in front of his face.

“Colin.” Savi's hand tightened around his, her slim fingers surprising in their strength. Not strong enough to hold him back, except that she wanted him to wait. “Colin, don't.”

Footsteps pounded along the corridor, and Fia burst into the room. Confusion slid over her expression as she took in Levitt's and Johnson's frozen panic, and she glanced askance at Colin. Her eyes widened; her sword fell from her hand.

Savi made a small sound of distress. “Put up your shields, Fia—all the way. Hold them. Has Paul come back?”

Savi's arm came around Colin's waist as she spoke. His grip on his sword tightened before he forced the fury away, redirected it. She hadn't mentioned Paul to help Fia center herself.

The female vampire was the same Paul and Varney had followed.

Fia shook her head, bent to pick up her sword. “Not yet. Whose blood do I smell?”

“Give him a ring, Fia,” Colin said softly.

For just a moment, her psychic scent trembled with fear. Then she pulled out her cell phone.

Savi looked up at Colin and, apparently satisfied he wouldn't slaughter the security team, strode over to Levitt's desk and frowned at the monitor. “Can you ask the guys in Security to get the video of the parking lot ready for us to look at? If we slow it down, we should be able to see who put the head there.”

“Straight to voice mail,” Fia said, snapping her phone closed. “He's turned it off. He'd only have done that if he was worried a ring or vibration might be overheard. What happened? What head?”

“They killed Fishnet Shirt's partner,” Savi said. She pointed to the screen.

Fia walked across the room to look and blanched. “Oh, God.” She met Colin's gaze. Either the effect of his anger had passed or she was too frightened for Paul to let it affect her. “I'm going.”

“No. I need you here.”

“But—”

Colin firmed his lips, shook his head. “I'll find him. We need a name, Fia. This woman, and the partner. Someone in Polidori's will recognize them; bring them in and Savi can give me the rest. I'll find him,” he repeated when she began to argue.

She swallowed, and her jaw clenched briefly before she said, “It'll be Darkwolf, most likely.”

“Fine.” It didn't matter, so long as they knew who the woman was.

The jingling tones of Savi's computer drew his attention as it booted up; a small pile of electronics sat on the desk in front of her, and it grew with each softly voiced request she gave to the hellhound.

She picked up a headset, plugged the wire into a slim radio. Colin stood motionless as she hooked it onto his belt, then slid the earphones over his head, adjusted the microphone at his chin. She discarded her helmet, then donned a matching contraption and tested the connection.

“Q,” he teased quietly. “As well as Curry Delicious.”

Her smile was brief. “Take Sir Pup,” she said.

“He's to stay with you. You cannot use the symbols
and
communicate with these.” He gestured to the radio. “I'll not leave you unprotected.”

Her dark eyes searched his, and he saw the moment she relented in the frustrated twist of her lips, the crease between her brows.

“Take a shitload of weapons then?”

He grinned. “You've such a wonderfully filthy mouth,” he said, and kissed it. He called in another sword and a pair of pistols, and headed out into the night with her flavor on his lips.

A trail of fluorescent paint would have been less obvious than the scent of the female vampire's blood. Colin easily followed its odor south across Market. Foolish of the bastard. Unlikely that it had been Dalkiel—the demon would have been better served escaping by air, and the blood held the physical tinge of a male vampire beneath it.

Another of the demon's lackeys? How many had he persuaded—or forced—into his service?

The scent disappeared in the middle of Folsom Street.

Clenching his teeth in frustration, he cast around for another thread, but only smelled rain and oil and metal. The fading odors of humans who'd passed through. Litter and sewage. The pavement glistened wetly beneath the streetlights; aside from the sparse traffic and the background noise from within the surrounding flats, all was quiet.

A car drove slowly by, then stopped. Colin tensed, but allowed himself to relax when it began backing into the single free space along the curb. The woman who emerged looked at him; her gaze didn't rise above the pistol rig and his swords. She fled into the nearest building without glancing at his face.

Amused, he thumbed a button on the radio. “Savi, I need a direction. He must have had a vehicle waiting here; I've lost the scent.”

“Where are you?”
She repeated the address he gave her, then added,
“Okay, the woman was Guinevere, a.k.a. Jennifer Branning. Arwen says she and Fishnet Shirt live together. I've got an apartment listed under her name in Daly City.”

Eight miles south. An easy distance for Colin in the time they'd been gone, but not for a normal vampire. “Paul and Varney are on foot.”

“Yeah. Hold on; the guys have the video from the parking lot up. I'm going to check it out.”

Colin bit back his immediate protest. She'd been sickened by the violence, but had recovered quickly. Had it only been the shock of it that had affected her so?

No matter. If she thought herself capable of seeing it again, he wouldn't coddle her.

“It was Mullet Boy,”
Savi said.
“I've got a name: Peter Osterberg. According to Gina, he moved into the community three months ago. He had a partner—a woman. A redhead, but they don't know her name.”

And Colin hadn't bothered to ask it before he'd slain her. Bloody, bloody hell. “Moved to where?”

“Just a sec, I'm pulling it up.”

A police cruiser turned in at the end of the street; a searchlight penetrated the darkness as the car rolled slowly toward Colin. He slid into the shadows between the buildings, leapt soundlessly onto a fire escape platform.

A fat white cat hissed though the windowpane near his elbow, its claws digging into the sill, fur bristling. Even with its back arched, its belly skimmed the wood at its feet. Plenty of blood in that pampered thing. Colin contemplated taking a sip to tide him over, then decided it was too much effort when a push at the sash proved it locked.

The searchlight illuminated the alley beneath him; the cruiser continued on.

Another minute passed before Savi said,
“He just leased a condo on Nob Hill. Swanky little place. And probably with your money—he had a huge influx of cash three weeks ago.”

Colin smiled grimly. “Then he'll not mind if I call on him.”

“Are you at the same location? Darkwolf and Gina are offering to provide backup.”

The suddenly cheerful note in her voice alerted him to her unease; he knew its cause, but could see no way to deny them without damaging the nascent trust he'd built with the vampires. “Have them meet with me at Osterberg's building; I've attracted a bit of attention here.”

“The swords?”

“Yes.” He jumped from the fire escape, landed quietly on the pavement thanks to the finest leather Italian bootmakers could produce. Unfortunately, a journey across downtown would do little for their shine.

“People should really be more accepting of vampires running through the streets armed like ninjas. I've given Darkwolf and Gina a few guns with venom-laced bullets. They're going now.”

Guns, not swords. Clever Savitri. Colin would much rather be shot in the back than stabbed or decapitated from behind. He could recover from a bullet wound, even one to the brain; he didn't want to test his capacity for healing without a head.

“How long will it take you to get there? Can I talk dirty to you on the way?”

His brow creased as he began jogging north. She was too aware of her effect on him—and the effect of his arousal on his control—to risk distracting him with such sexual play. “Please do.”

In Hindi, she said,
“I had sex with a monkey and it gave me herpes.”

He let out a shout of laughter, then replied in the same language, “That is quite all right, sweet. I'm immune to such diseases. I daresay I'm fortunate in that, given my history.”

“Very fortunate. Okay. I just wanted to make certain no one here could understand me, but they didn't even blink.”
Her voice was breathy, her tone sensuous.
“I'm going to send either Fia or the hound to watch your back. Your only choice is which one I send.”

He gritted his teeth, glanced heavenward. Above the skyscrapers, the moon peeked through the thinning clouds. “Savi, if I don't know you are safe—”

“I'll stay in Security with Arwen and the guys from SI. Sir Pup is in his demon form; no one's going to challenge him here. If nothing else, I'll drop my shields and bring a pack of wyrmwolves down on them.”
She sighed, and he could easily imagine her liquid brown eyes, their expression caught between amusement and gravity.
“I don't like Arwen, but I don't think she's going to try anything; she was pretty shaken up when she saw the present Dalkiel and friends left on your car.”

“But you're worried that Darkwolf or Gina might try something.”

“Not terribly worried, because if they do anything to you I'll tell Sir Pup to eat their friend here,”
she said.
“I'm simply less trusting than I used to be. Or less stupid. And I want to know you are safe, too.”

How could he resist that? “Fia, then.”

“Okay,”
she said in English a moment later.
“She's going. When you get there, you'll find Dalkiel on the roof terrace. I think it must be him; he's in his demon form. Osterberg's there, too. It looks like they're just waiting, but it's hard to tell; the video is kind of fuzzy.”