Demon Angel

morning and afternoon runs surrounded by cold and wet. "The forecast was incorrect. For all their technology, men are no better at predicting the future than the crofter and his gouty leg."
    She lifted her head and glared as if to chastise him for his inane conversation, then launched into a rolling purr— designed, no doubt, to lure him back into the bed so that she could take advantage of his body heat.
    "You have been sleeping well without it for the past two hours." His feet had warmed the floor where he'd been standing, but the floorboards were cold as he crossed the room. The mattress gave under his weight as he sat, and he scratched her ears fondly when she crawled into his lap. Her claws pricked his skin as she kneaded his leg in appreciation.
    There was always a price for kindness.
    For cruelty, too , he thought, though the ones who paid it were often not the same as those who paid for kindness.
    Sighing, he picked up a slip of paper from his nightstand. Nightmares of his cruelty—kindness?—had left the phantom odor of blood and dirt on his hands; perhaps it was better not to be left to his thoughts in the midst of silence. Better he could not sleep.
    And it was not the sort of call one made during the daylight hours. Nor was it a call Hugh wanted to make, but he found himself dialing.
    The slip of paper he held had an address written beneath the phone number. Perhaps it was cowardly to ask this way. But it would be foolish to delay longer in order to visit in person, particularly as Hugh did not know who he would find there. What he might find.
    But there was no mistaking Colin's voice when he answered. "Savitri Murray. What a delightfully mixed-up ethnicity you must have, and how delightfully foxed you must be to ring the wrong number at four in the morning. I must confess, I love nothing so much as exotic women who drink excessively."
    Hugh pinched the bridge of his nose and rested his elbows on his knees. Caller ID. Careless, to have forgotten that Colin might trace the call back to Savi. He wanted her to remain completely distant from the vampire. But it was done; the rest should be done quickly, as well.
    "I am—unfortunately—sober," he said.
    Silence reigned for a moment.
    "Hugh. You must have seen the news footage of the fire at the club."
    "Yes," Hugh said. Emilia jumped down and twined between his legs. Absently, he reached down and rubbed beneath her chin. Her soft purr eased some of his tension, made the question less difficult to ask. "Do you require assistance?"
    An edge of astonishment sharpened the vampire's laugh. "Do I want you to fulfill the vow you made two hundred years ago and try to protect me against the horde of nosferatu that has descended upon the city?"
    Hugh's breathing stilled. A horde? Was it that dire, or did Colin exaggerate? Difficult to determine truth without seeing the person; he preferred to observe faces, expressions—not to guess from tone and inflection. "Do you need help? Or protection?"
    "No."
    Strange, to feel disappointed in Colin's answer when it was the one he'd hoped for. Ridiculous, that his urge to offer the. strength of his sword dwelt so long on his tongue. It was for the best; the only weapons he owned now were a pair of decorative Japanese swords Savi had given him years before. He scrubbed his hand over his face. Forced himself to remember the last time he'd seen his sword: buried hilt-deep within the Earth, the handle left exposed to mark Lilith's gravesite.
    Did she rest easy?
    His stomach clenched, but his voice remained even. "Very well. Good evening, Colin."
    "Good eve—ah, hell." Colin's formality broke. "Are you well? Who is Savitri? Is she beautiful? Have you become entrenched in suburbia, lost your boyish charm and half your hair?"
    Hugh grinned despite himself. "Yes. Good-bye, Colin."
    "We should speak," Colin said quickly.
    "Of things past? I think not."
    "Things past have a way of presenting themselves in the present." He paused, and his voice lightened. "Well, that was a bloody awkward way of saying: I have much to tell you. Meet with me tomorrow. During the day, if you no longer trust me; I'll not likely chase you into the sun if you need escape. Bring your Savitri, and we'll have lunch."
    "Better to protect her from creatures such as you." Hugh shook his head, smiling.
    "Beautiful? Sartorially exquisite? Witty? Aye, creatures such as I are a menace indeed."
    "Dangerous." Hugh pushed away the temptation to meet with Colin; it would