Demon Moon

laced with the same. The bullets would hurt a vampire, slow one down—perhaps even temporarily disable it—but the venom wouldn’t have an effect on one.
    Only on a demon or nosferatu.
    Her fingers trembled as they slid higher, found the edge of his pocket. She wouldn’t have anything to fear from a demon, but Colin would. His speed and strength would easily overcome any other vampire, even if he didn’t have a weapon—but a gun and the venom would be necessary for him to even the odds with a demon.
    “When?”
    “Directly after we sat down. The pup sent it to me.”
    Good dog. And for him to sense it before Colin had, he must have scented it physically instead of psychically; was the demon trying to conceal itself to surprise Colin? Or just observing him? “Would it dare attack you here?”
    “I hope not; I’d hate to pay for damages done to the place.” His boyish grin accompanied the statement, but his gaze was humorless as it centered over her shoulder. “Take it out, Savi. If it comes to that, the pup will send me more. Or do the job himself.”
    She began to turn her head, but he caught her chin, met her eyes.
    “If it comes to that, and you can’t run…grab the pup and hold on to him, and he’ll run for you.” He leaned forward when her lips parted in surprise, and dropped a quick kiss against them. “And I’m making it a condition: if you want a month, I have to know you’ll protect yourself first.”
    “If I were interested in protecting myself, I wouldn’t stay with you for a month.” She returned his kiss before he could reply, using her body to shield her hand’s movement from the other patrons. She didn’t want the weapon, would rather it be available to Colin; the demon could move more quickly than she could hope to aim. But if it reassured Colin to know that she had some protection, she’d take it.
    No silencer. Dammit. She slid it beneath her thigh, thumbed off the safety, and kept her forefinger against the trigger guard.
    Sir Pup flopped to the floor next to her feet, laid his head on her boots.
    “Hugh told you? About the fugues?”
    “Yes. No worries, Savitri. You’re safe here for now.” He rested his hand on her knee, squeezed it comfortingly. “Good God, but I’m a handsome devil.”
    Savi burst into laughter, and it eased the nervous tension that had overtaken her. Whether Colin had done it for that purpose, or just to annoy the demon who sat down in the chair opposite the love seat, she didn’t know. How wonderfully insulting, for a human to laugh at a demon’s approach instead of fearing it, yet couching the statement in flattery.
    And the demon was a perfect replica, though his smile had a hard cast to it, his gray eyes without the lively humor she’d come to adore in Colin’s. He’d altered his hair since the DMV photo had been taken, smoothing the rumpled golden strands into a neat cut.
    The change wasn’t unexpected; demons’ egos disallowed them from disappearing completely into another persona. The physical features remained the same, but minute adjustments in mannerism and style reflected the demon inside.
    She worried her bottom lip with her teeth as she studied him. Something else was different, though she couldn’t determine exactly what it was.
    The demon met her gaze, then glanced down at Sir Pup. For an instant, uneasiness flickered across his face. But the public venue gave them no more advantage than it did him, and his expression changed to mockery.
    “Given the legend that you have created for yourself amongst the vampire communities here and in London, I had wondered what sort of vampire I would find. But it is a pathetic, neutered one, using a hellhound for protection and bargaining with a human for blood. I wonder that I should even bother to kill you; you would do well to end it yourself.”
    The demon must’ve heard Colin speaking, yet he didn’t try to emulate the vampire perfectly. He used a clipped, almost ridiculously posh accent; for the first time, given the comparison, Savi could hear his century in the U.S. in Colin’s voice.
    But if the demon intended to make Colin feel inferior, he must not have studied the vampire very well.
    Colin erased every bit of American inflection as he said, “Already one is bored. Is originality impossible amongst demonkind? With such a face, you ought to be fascinating, brilliantly innovative; instead, you rely on ye olde demon routine and exhibit the inimitability of a BBC news anchor.