Demon Forged

in a bargain to give them a pint a day. That amount could feed one vampire, maybe two. Not more than that.
    He said cautiously, “What is the first?”
    She pulled a lead goblet out of her cache, used her Gift to expand the size of the bowl, and looked to Ames-Beaumont. “No humans are here?” She didn’t sense any, couldn’t smell any—but it was best to check.
    “If there were, Hawkins’ disappearing act would have set them talking, don’t you think?”
    Perhaps Jake’s teleporting hadn’t, but this probably would. She called in a nosferatu’s head between her palms. Blood dripped from its severed neck into the goblet. Savi’s eyes widened; Ames-Beaumont began laughing.
    There were other noises, gasps. Soon, all of the community would know that a Guardian had given Deacon nosferatu blood. That he was unique among them. And when his shock had passed, Deacon would realize that the community knew of it, too.
    “Jesus Christ,” Deacon said. “You expect me to drink that?”
    Despite his words, his gaze was fixed on the blood. The scent was thick, and because it was nosferatu, strong and dark. The other two vampires didn’t appear as affected—but then, they’d probably fed from each other already.
    Irena squeezed, hoping to get the blood running faster. Some had drained out onto the ossuary floor before she’d vanished the head. That spilled blood was in her cache, too, but mixed with dirt. At least this was clean.
    “It’s dead blood, so even though it will suppress the bloodlust, it won’t feed you for long.” Too many days without living blood and vampires became weak and stupid. “But it might make you stronger.”
    Need flared in Deacon’s eyes and was quickly covered. “I’ve never heard that.”
    “Neither have I,” Ames-Beaumont put in.
    “That is because, as far as I know, no vampire has ever drunk a significant amount of blood from a nosferatu. Have you heard of such?”
    All of them shook their heads.
    “That is why I said might .” With two fingers, Irena ripped out the nosferatu’s tongue, vanished it, and poured more blood from its mouth. Savi half-laughed, half-moaned, and covered her eyes. “But even if it doesn’t do anything, drinking this won’t hurt you.”
    “What makes you think might ?” Deacon asked.
    “Jake,” Irena said simply. “He has had two transformations, and has become as strong and as fast as a Guardian four times his age. Vampire blood and nosferatu blood are the only bloods that transform. If you, a vampire already, drink vampire blood . . .” She lifted her shoulder. “No difference. But if it is this? Perhaps it will.”
    Savi peeked through her fingers. After a brief hesitation, she said, “Colin and I . . . I am not as strong as he is, but I am stronger than when I first began drinking his blood. There was a difference. Some of the changes—like the additional strength—have been slow. Other changes were immediate.”
    Such as both of them being able to see Chaos in a mirror, instead of just the cursed and tainted Ames-Beaumont being able to. Such as having a strong anchor to Chaos—strong enough that no one but Michael could teleport them anywhere without ending up in that realm.
    Irena would not have referred even vaguely to how Ames-Beaumont’s blood had affected Savi, but she was grateful that Savi had made mention of it. Even if the blood did not strengthen Deacon, it might give the vampire confidence—however false—until he regained his own.
    “There, you see? It is not the same, but it is similar.”
    Deacon nodded at the goblet. “Will that much do it?”
    Irena frowned. “I would know that, how? I have just told you it has not been done before. It is enough to transform a human to vampire, but a vampire to . . . more vampire?” She shrugged. “But even if it does not have an immediate effect, I have three nosferatu—two raw, one cooked. The blood of all three is yours if you wish to keep trying.”
    He apparently did. When she slid the goblet toward him, he reached for it.
    Savi moved at the same time, lifting her arm to greet someone, her smile a bright, warm curve. “Andy. Sit with us.”
    Irena glanced up, and didn’t conceal her surprise. “Detective Taylor.”
    Off-duty, obviously. The scent of coffee and stale cigarettes clung to the officer’s jeans, her black leather jacket, her hair. If possible, she looked more tired and drawn that she had that morning. Her gaze fell to the nosferatu’s head