Demon Moon

humor—but if the bastard didn’t fall on his knees and worship her as she deserved, or at least propose within a minute or two, Colin would kill him.
    A tall, barrel-round man walked in front of the Jaguar, crossed the street toward the café with a quick glance into the car. Detective Preston.
    The tap on the passenger window didn’t surprise Colin, but Detective Taylor’s appearance did. The once impeccably pressed woman was a hell of a mess. Instead of the sleek bob, her short auburn hair rioted around her head in thick, uneven curls; her countenance was drawn and tired, her skin pale but for the dark circles around her eyes. Already slender, petite, she must have lost half a stone in the past eight months.
    Colin unlocked the door; Taylor slipped inside, wiping the rain from her face. The strong odor of cigarettes and coffee clung to her wrinkled jacket.
    She turned to look at him. Her eyes closed, and she breathed, “Dammit.”
    He could only summon half a smile. “Detective. I know appearances are often deceiving, but—”
    Her mouth tightened. “Don’t say anything. I hear it enough from Joe.”
    Colin widened his smile, designed it to charm. Lifting her hand, he brought it to his lips before she could pull away or protest. “Detective Preston often remarks upon how beautiful I am? I shall have to thank him.”
    “He went in to grab us something to eat while I talked to you,” she said absently, her gaze arrested on his mouth. Her fingers curled on his, and she blinked. “Jesus. Stop that. No vampire mojo.”
    His brows rose, and he said evenly, “As I need your assistance in locating a demon, it would hardly benefit either of us if I used mojo. This is my natural allure.”
    A breathy laugh escaped her, and she pulled her hand from his. “Thank God. Or whatever.” A wry expression flitted over her face; then her gaze flattened, and she observed him with cool professionalism. “Agent Milton gave very few details in her voice mail. And as she has made it clear that all vampire and demon activity doesn’t fall within our jurisdiction, I’m not certain what you want from us.”
    It was not just Lilith’s lack of diplomacy; the need to conceal all otherworldly activity had forced her to use federal powers to take over any cases involving it before the local authorities could determine the truth about the abnormal nature of the crimes.
    It was a means to a necessary end, but it didn’t allow for smooth relations when they were needed. And the few who knew the truth—such as Taylor and Preston—were treated in an overbearing manner that they likely read as a not-so-subtle insult, suggesting a lack of trust or faith in their skills.
    Frustration had Colin briefly clenching his teeth before he said, “Quite frankly, I’m not interested in the squabble over jurisdiction; I’ll leave that to you and Agent Milton. I need your help. You have access to information at a different level than I do through SI.”
    She regarded him without expression; she could have been Castleford’s double. Colin fought the instant irritation that accompanied the realization. “The street level,” she said.
    “Yes.”
    Taylor was silent for a moment, then she looked past him and gestured with a lift of her chin. “Is that Savi?” Her eyes narrowed. “And the dog…the hellhound?”
    His lips firmed. “Yes. I didn’t realize you were acquainted with Miss Murray.” Not well enough to use her nickname.
    “Not much face-to-face after the Feds grabbed the investigation last year. Primarily by e-mail after that. She has a lot of questions.” She glanced at Colin again, her gaze speculative. “And quite a few answers; she’s more willing to share information than others are. Information that allows me to better perform my job, and protect my partner and myself—recognizing demons and Guardians, vampire strengths and weaknesses. All very, very useful.”
    He bit back his smile; Taylor had apparently learned about the power of bargaining, as well. “I can supplement her answers.”
    Taylor nodded. “I thought so. What do you need from us?”
    Colin quickly described the identity theft, the vampires who’d been following him. “Miss Murray can track any recorded activity—police reports if the Navigators are involved, financial transactions—but it doesn’t give us an accurate representation of their movements.”
    She flipped through the folder he’d given her. “You just want me to keep my eyes open,