Demon Moon

age.
    But they were too entrenched in vampiric tradition to know it yet.
    Fia met them at the private entrance to Polidori’s, carrying a tranquilizer pistol and accompanied by her partner, Paul. Two more vampires stood just inside the door, their guns trained on Colin’s head and chest.
    Savi apparently hadn’t been expecting such a greeting, and he’d not thought to warn her of the preparations he’d made; her left hand found his, and her right rested near the weapon at her thigh. Colin reassured her with a squeeze of his fingers, but his amusement died when one vampire shifted his aim.
    “Mr. Levitt,” he said softly, “if you cannot immediately determine a demon from a human, I am quite capable of sending you to Hell to better learn the difference.”
    Levitt quickly retargeted Colin’s forehead.
    Paul slanted a glance back at the pair, then frowned at Colin. “Dalkiel could impersonate her, too.”
    Sir Pup flopped down at Savi’s feet, panting from his run. Obviously considering the hellhound proof of their identity, Fia holstered her gun. “Or take a partner and throw us off-guard by impersonating the both of you, when we only expect one.”
    Savi’s gaze was assessing as she studied the vampires. “I can make more of the handheld IR detectors to augment door security; they’ll be useful inside, as well. Inside,” she repeated with a lift of her brow, “where a vampire sniper might not pick me off from a rooftop.”
    Bloody hell. Colin had her through the entrance within moments.
    “I can’t believe I said ‘vampire sniper’ with a straight face,” Savi said as he led her down the corridor to the private suite.
    Colin couldn’t believe he’d been so careless. The thick red carpeting muffled their steps, but the quick beat of her heart raged in his ears; if it ever stopped, he’d be completely lost.
    “In the future, you’ll wear a Kevlar vest and helmet in and out.” Sir Pup carried them for Lilith and Castleford; a simple protection that he’d overlooked.
    “That’ll be sexy,” she said dryly, but he didn’t hear any objection beneath it. Surprised, he glanced at her, but she only shrugged. “I don’t want to be shot. I remember it too well.”
    His lips firmed as he nodded and escorted her into the suite. Sir Pup lay down in the hallway; if someone tried to take them by surprise whilst they were inside or planned to ambush them upon exit, they’d have to go through the hellhound first. Colin waited for Fia and Paul to follow them into the room, then activated the symbols.
    Only drops from his fingertip, but the odor of his blood sent a dull, throbbing ache to his fangs, mirrored by a tightening of his groin. Christ. He released Savitri’s hand, and she immediately moved across the main living area, toward the bank of monitors on the far wall.
    These monitors showed the same images the guards in the security room would see. Redundant as they were, Colin had kept the cupboard closed and the doors hidden behind Savi’s portraits when he’d stayed in these rooms—but those paintings had been moved to his gallery, and it served Fia and Paul to keep the security feed uncovered.
    Just as well, he thought; she glanced back at him, and his talent seemed inadequate. Gold shadow glimmered across her lids; she’d lined her eyes with a smoky gray, emphasizing the exotic tilt at the corners. Her glistening, full lips were sultry, berry-stained perfection.
    Paint, on a canvas far more enticing than any he’d ever worked—and the result much more beautiful. Good God, but he would give anything to take his brush to her skin.
    With effort, he forced himself to look away from the picture she made. She’d been psychically and verbally distant since they’d left his house, holding herself rigid as if trying not to tempt him in the small confines of the car—and likely mulling over the revelation he’d made about the curse. But even with her shields up, she was an irresistible temptation.
    He’d have preferred to tease himself with her nearness and his arousal, heightening their anticipation through simultaneous pursuit and self-denial, but they had too much at stake for him to lose his focus.
    And so with a sigh, he focused. “Did Castleford learn anything useful from the boys?”
    Shaking his head, Paul took a seat on the sofa and rested his elbows on his knees. “They talked, but had nothing that might help narrow down the demon’s location, or even any names of other