Demon Moon

“Yes. We’ll use it to our advantage. They will be able to sense that you are human, but once it’s become known you created the game, and after you’ve demonstrated in some small way your strength, they won’t know exactly what to make of you—and will likely fear challenging you. For all they know, the character and her powers are based on you. The game and Castleford’s book have achieved something of a cult status amongst the community, their one source of information about their origins; knowing that you produced both will be an added protection.”
    She bit her lip, somewhat uncomfortable with finding security in something that killed two of her friends—but forced that discomfort away. “Okay.”
    Colin sighed, reached forward, and pulled her against him, dropping a quick kiss to her mouth. “If I could leave you here, Savitri, I would.”
    He must have mistaken the reason for her hesitation. “I’d rather go with you. Aside from that small display, I just sit there?”
    He rubbed his cheek against hers, his shadowed jaw rough against her skin. “No; I need you to look and talk, establish yourself as a source of knowledge. Tell them any truth they want to hear, answer any questions but for my connection to Chaos and the extent of your abilities. And keep your shields as high as possible.”
    His mouth drifted toward her ear as he spoke, down. The neckline of her shirt rose almost to her jaw, the white silk clinging to her throat; his tongue moistened the skin along the edge. Her knees weakened. Her heart thudded against her chest.
    “I will,” she whispered.
    He pulled back abruptly, breathing hard. “Oh, Christ. Not yet. We’ll not leave the house if I give in now.” His hands clenched on the banister behind him. He offered her a strained smile. “It would be easier if I didn’t want you so desperately. Though not quite as pleasurable.”
    She stepped away, raised her psychic blocks. They’d been partially down, her natural state that he seemed to enjoy for its presence, though not an overwhelming one. He made a low sound that could have been relief or disappointment. Perhaps both; if so, it echoed hers—the disappointment that they’d had to put the arousal between them aside, the relief that he could. It wouldn’t have boded well for the evening if he was constantly tormented by her scent.
    “Will I be too much of a distraction at Polidori’s?”
    “No. And I need your eyes; you’ve seen the two vampires who followed us, and your memory is an advantage I’d be a fool not to use. I need to catalogue the vampires there, and who talks with whom. I doubt the demon will show, but his lackeys might.” His mouth flattened as if he’d recalled something unpleasant. “Will it hurt terribly to re-create those memories later?”
    “No. Not if I’m paying attention.” At his questioning look, she explained, “I only have to anchor to the emotion when it’s something I didn’t notice—like the license plates. I saw them, but I didn’t really see them. If I’d read the plate, it would have been no effort to remember the number without narrowing it down by tripping through my brain. It’s the same with connecting one bit of information to another; if I’m actively doing it, I’ll notice similarities. Otherwise, it might never occur to me—it’s just random trivia. Like your house. I never thought of the house in the picture I saw on a website five years ago as being the same one listed in your data, though I knew both addresses…but if I’d considered it even once, I’d have immediately known.”
    She glanced up at the painting again. Two hundred years, and he still had a precise memory of his features. His long line of portraits couldn’t account for the accuracy from the different angles, the expressions.
    “I frequently observed myself in the mirror,” he said, obviously guessing the nature of her thoughts.
    She smiled, but looked at the portrait with new eyes. “Perhaps that’s the difference—what’s wrong. You’ve only seen yourself as a human. They’re all…flat, I guess. There’s something missing. This is more like Dalkiel than you.” Unsure she could elaborate better, she shrugged and said, “No one dropped anything when he came into the café.”
    “I’ve seen myself as a vampire. I know what you’re speaking of—it’s an effect of the sword after the transformation. What you saw last night is, I imagine, a focused version of it—Lilith said