Demon Moon

I’ll likely kill him while I dance over it. And your terror, knowing the painful end that is near. For me, the wait is almost as satisfying as the act.”
    Sir Pup sat up when the demon rose to his feet; Savi placed her hand on the scruff of his neck.
    “So begin your month; you will not see the end of it. The next full moon will rise over your graves.” Staring down at the hellhound, the demon flared his eyes again, then turned back to Savi with a wide grin. “And you need not worry about explaining your whorish behavior to your sweet grandmother. My new allies are delivering a message to her…right about now.”
    Colin’s arm around her waist stopped her from launching herself at him. She struggled silently, and the demon laughed, a low and contemptuous rumble.
    “Vampires,” he said, shaking his head. “Much more effective than the INS. And you’ve only yourself to blame, Savitri Murray. You hid your connection well—I wouldn’t have known of her if you hadn’t had such an irresponsible youth. Perhaps a bridge is in order, no matter how passé. Or the gun you have would do the trick.” He pointed to his temple, cocked his thumb. “Bang.”
    He disappeared; perhaps Colin had seen him leave, but it had been too quick for Savi.
    “Let’s go, let’s go—” Her voice broke. Colin swept her up and carried her through the café. They were at his car within a moment’s time.
    “Call Castleford. Warn them.” The tires squealed as he pulled into the street, then he was using his phone as well, asking for Detective Taylor.
    She got Hugh’s voice mail. Tried Lilith’s. No answer.
    Red and blue lights flashed behind them.
    “They had better fucking keep up,” Colin growled, and shifted. The engine wound from a purr to a roar. He looked over at her, and his mouth tightened. “I’ll get you there, Savi.”
    She nodded numbly, though she knew there was only so much he could do. The distance wasn’t far, but it wasn’t about speed; it was about momentum, and something she’d started long ago. And about being too late to stop it.



CHAPTER 17

    I will accede to his request, though I am convinced that, of that party in Switzerland, his wife was the sole being who emerged with a bit of sense. God love intelligent women—though she was far too kind to her monster: she did not make him the originator of his curse. And she was far too kind to her doctor, for not forcing him to bear it .
    —Colin to Ramsdell, 1822

    “Ohmygod, ohmygod.” Savi didn’t recognize the low, panicked chant as hers when the restaurant came into view. The front windows were shattered, and one missing completely. No lights shone from inside; it was impossible to see if anyone was moving around. Small, dark holes peppered the front door and stucco façade.
    Bullet holes?
    She pulled on the handle before Colin screeched to a halt. The scent of burnt rubber assaulted her nose; her ears rang with the approaching sirens and the bystanders’ questioning cries. Colin was instantly at her door, took her hand, tucked her into his right side. The length of his sword flashed on his left.
    “She’s alive, Savi,” he said, but his tone warned her that all wasn’t well.
    They didn’t bother with the front door; her boots crunched the glass as she jumped through the window, as her eyes adjusted to the dark.
    A large, masculine form was bending over a prone figure. “Hugh?” She ran to his side, fell to her knees. He was holding Nani. Blood streaked the side of her neck, her stomach. “Oh, god.”
    “I need you to hold it, Savi. I’ve got to see to the others.” Hugh gestured to the wadded sash he’d pressed to Nani’s side. The shoulder of his white T-shirt was crimson. “The blood on her neck is mine; I didn’t get her down quickly enough. But Dru is on her way.”
    A Guardian—a Healer. Nani only had to make it until she arrived. Nodding frantically, Savi took over, applying pressure. Too hard. Nani moaned a little, stirred. Her eyelashes fluttered.
    “No, Nani…don’t wake up. I know it hurts,” she said quietly, pushed back a loose strand of hair from Nani’s perspiring forehead. Colin crouched beside her. “Can you make her sleep?”
    Outside, the scream of the sirens grew louder, then cut off with the squeal of brakes.
    Colin leaned down, spoke into Nani’s ear. Her body relaxed, though her breath was still shallow, her pulse thready.
    “Colin,” Hugh said, looking up from a flesh wound on Geetha’s arm.