Demon Moon

reopened, but I didn’t get a callback. You have pretty stringent background checks.”
    “It’s a necessary evil,” Colin said. “But an easily circumvented one. What name did you use? I’ll ask my manager to pull up your file.”
    She glanced uncertainly at Raven, who nodded. “Epona Smith.”
    Smith? It clicked into place. The weekend employment, the frustration, the unfulfilled dream vacation. Had Colin already realized? “You were passed over because of a lack of ID?” And probably without the necessary Social Security number for above-the-table employment.
    Bad enough that vampires were limited by their daysleep and a need to hide their nature from humans, but legal requirements made finding a suitable job doubly difficult.
    A grimace briefly pulled Epona’s red-slicked mouth tight. “Yeah. I’ve hit the age where my birth certificate is useless. The DMV won’t issue me ID, and trying to get a passport is impossible. I don’t look seventy.”
    Savi’s brows drew together as she glanced up at Colin. He watched her, a smile lurking at the corners of his lips. “Who did yours?” she asked. His identification and backup documentation were perfect. “Was it someone here in San Francisco?”
    He nodded slowly. “Stephan. An elder.”
    Raven heaved a long sigh. “Yeah. Who isn’t much help now.”
    “The nosferatu killed him last year? Here, at Polidori’s?” Savi guessed. Apparently Colin was rebuilding more than just a structure. Too many of the community’s sources for help and businesses had been disrupted by the nosferatu’s slaughter of its elders, then the subsequent flight of the younger vampires from San Francisco.
    Savi suddenly grinned up at him. “This feels like a big ‘fuck you’ to Dalkiel. This is what got me in trouble in the first place, you know.” Before he could respond, she leaned forward and said to Epona, “E-mail a picture to me—preferably a passport photo—and I’ll set you up.”
    Colin slipped a business card onto the table in front of her, and Savi scrawled her address across the back. It disappeared into Epona’s generous cleavage.
    His fingers played with the hair at her nape as he added, “And should anyone else require the same service, we’ll provide it for them.” He pulled Savi back against his side again, his arm wrapped around her waist, his hand at her hip.
    There’d likely be no need for Epona and Raven to tell others; Savi could feel the change in the attention they’d been receiving from the vampires who’d listened nearby.
    Suddenly, Colin wasn’t just a beautiful vampire oddity—he and his human consort were useful.
    With luck, now Raven would prove to be, as well.

    “That didn’t work,” Savi muttered in Hindi, and took a sip of her water. The faint citrus of the lemon slice combined with the fragrance of her soap and her natural feminine scent, making an intoxicating perfume.
    Doing his best to ignore his own thirst, Colin smiled into her hair, the short, gelled strands stiff against his cheek. “We accomplished something almost as important,” he said softly. Even if someone could understand the language, they’d likely not hear him over the music.
    His gaze skimmed the lounge on the second level; Fia stood near the railing, looking down at the dance floor, Sir Pup at her heels. He raised his voice and said her name. She glanced at him, shook her head.
    She quickly signed, Fishnet Shirt slipped out about ten minutes ago with the woman he was with—probably his partner; Paul and Varney are following them. Raven didn’t know the name? And do we need to have someone watch the women to make sure they aren’t targeted for your questioning?
    No , Colin signed. Raven remembers him, but he was just a random bloke. Send the pup down, and order the DJ to lower the volume a bit .
    He turned to Savi. “Are you up for a tour?”
    With a nod, she downed her drink and set the glass on the table. For just a moment her brow quirked, as if she wanted to make an observation. Then she hesitated, her lips pressed together, and she rose to her feet.
    He allowed her to pull him up, kept his hand clasped in hers. “You’re correct,” he said, leaning forward to speak against her ear. “You can say it.”
    “It just occurred to me that you were holding court.” Her voice was amused…and somewhat apologetic.
    “Yes,” he agreed easily. “It came naturally.” He drew back to search her expression, found humor and relief. “I’ve