Demon Angel

the people standing outside had only come because of the club's connection with death. Her friends' deaths.
    "And I spent a sordid amount of money on it," he added. "I can't fault them for recognizing my unparalleled taste, and flocking here to revel in it."
    Her lips curved into a smile, and she slanted a glance up at him. "Was it truly that much? Lilith claims you are the cheapest bastard she's ever known."
    Pleased with himself for turning her thoughts from her grief, he said, "Agent Milton has a demon's tongue. I am not cheap , my sweet Savitri. I've an eternal retirement; I budget wisely."
    Her throaty laughter pulled at already tight nerves along his skin. Her hip bumped against his leg as they rounded the corner to the entrance; her fragrance wafted around her. In her heels, she stood only a few inches shorter than he. So easy just to bend and press his mouth against…
    He dropped his hand from her waist, clenched it into a fist. This was bloody ridiculous. A fruity perfume, and he had as much control as an adolescent pulling himself off on his sheets.
    A huge vampire guarded the entrance and ran the guest list; he towered over Colin by his bald head, outweighed him by half. His muscles bulged through the tight black T-shirt. An intimidating presence, and one most vampires respected; but then, they were often fooled by appearances. Colin had deliberately chosen him for his resemblance in size and baldness to the nosferatu—but though the vampire was strong, Colin could have torn him in two with little effort. It was one of the advantages of Colin's transformation with nosferatu blood, instead of an exchange with another vampire.
    And the taint Michael's sword had left in his blood had generated the other differences.
    The bouncer's eyes widened—Colin usually didn't use the front entrance—and he quickly unhooked the velvet rope. "Mr. Ames-Beaumont."
    The urge to dash inside, to find the nearest willing body and glut was almost overwhelming. "Mr. Varney, this is Miss Savitri Murray. She should be on the short list."
    Her chin tilted up, her gaze leveled on Varney's features. It was difficult to tell human from vampire, but Castleford would have taught her to recognize the signs: the careful placement of the lips during speech; the slight perspiration in heated rooms or warm nights; abnormal respiration and reflexes. "What's the short list?"
    "Full access, miss, including Mr. Ames-Beaumont's personal suite. No charge." There was more, but Varney didn't mention that any vampire who tried to drink from someone on that list would receive a visit from Colin. It hadn't happened yet; there were very few people this side of the Atlantic to whom he'd give anything for free, and Lilith and Castleford were the only other names listed.
    A vampire would have to be a blithering idiot to attack them .
    "Except for tonight." Colin led her forward, and descended the stairs. "You'll pay the cover and for your drinks." An auburn-haired beauty was going up; she glanced at him, then froze with her foot in the air and watched as he passed. "Do you know the Guardians' sign language?"
    "No," Savi said, and looked back over her shoulder. "I hope she doesn't fall."
    He suppressed his laughter with difficulty, and said in Hindi, "I'll walk with you to the bar; then I must leave you alone for a few minutes. Because you came in with me, you'll be a curiosity to the vampires inside. They may approach you. Don't ask them questions, don't talk to them."
    "Why? Isn't the point of all this that I'm seen?"
    "You'll be seen, sweet Savitri." But he didn't want them to have any more of her than that.
    And hopefully, once he'd fed, his need for more would also fade.
    It was inelegant, perhaps even ill-mannered, but Savi eschewed the straw and gulped straight from the glass. Lime and salt, sour and sweet. And cold—she couldn't get enough of it.
    Delayed reaction from the flight? Her breath fogged the inside of the tumbler. Heat from the mass of bodies?
    Perhaps he'd been too stingy to pay for air conditioners.
    She fished out a cube of ice, sucked it into her mouth. The bartender glanced at her. Another vampire. Colin had been right; they'd all watched as he'd taken her hand and led her through the club. As he'd dropped a quick kiss onto her forehead.
    Like a little girl. A little sister. She'd known what it was: a display of protection. Because Hugh had saved Colin's sister, the vampire felt obligated to guard Hugh's adopted sister in return.