Demon Moon

shifted instantaneously into his three-headed form.
    But death had already come; there was nothing to fight. A woman’s severed head had been impaled on the Jaguar’s hood ornament, her mouth open and her fangs exposed by a twisted grimace. Her eyes had been ripped away.
    Tension dug its claws into his spine; Colin tore his gaze from the macabre display, opened his senses, and scanned the lot.
    Nothing.
    Savi’s hand flexed against his, and he felt the slide of fabric against his back as she rose onto her toes, as if to look over his shoulder. Bloody hell. He pushed her back in and slammed the door closed, but not quickly enough.
    “Ohmygod,” she whispered, then began gagging.
    The thick, heavy scent of the vampire’s lifeblood saturated the air within the small room; despite his hunger, his fury overwhelmed his bloodlust.
    She wouldn’t forget.
    “My sword, pup.” The blade appeared in Colin’s palm; he turned toward Levitt.
    The vampire glanced up from the monitors, horror etching his features into a stark mask. It rapidly changed to terror.
    “It wasn’t there a second ago! I fucking swear, man!”
    Johnson whimpered softly, backed up against the wall, and closed his eyes, his arms rising protectively in front of his face.
    “Colin.” Savi’s hand tightened around his, her slim fingers surprising in their strength. Not strong enough to hold him back, except that she wanted him to wait. “Colin, don’t.”
    Footsteps pounded along the corridor, and Fia burst into the room. Confusion slid over her expression as she took in Levitt’s and Johnson’s frozen panic, and she glanced askance at Colin. Her eyes widened; her sword fell from her hand.
    Savi made a small sound of distress. “Put up your shields, Fia—all the way. Hold them. Has Paul come back?”
    Savi’s arm came around Colin’s waist as she spoke. His grip on his sword tightened before he forced the fury away, redirected it. She hadn’t mentioned Paul to help Fia center herself.
    The female vampire was the same Paul and Varney had followed.
    Fia shook her head, bent to pick up her sword. “Not yet. Whose blood do I smell?”
    “Give him a ring, Fia,” Colin said softly.
    For just a moment, her psychic scent trembled with fear. Then she pulled out her cell phone.
    Savi looked up at Colin and, apparently satisfied he wouldn’t slaughter the security team, strode over to Levitt’s desk and frowned at the monitor. “Can you ask the guys in Security to get the video of the parking lot ready for us to look at? If we slow it down, we should be able to see who put the head there.”
    “Straight to voice mail,” Fia said, snapping her phone closed. “He’s turned it off. He’d only have done that if he was worried a ring or vibration might be overheard. What happened? What head?”
    “They killed Fishnet Shirt’s partner,” Savi said. She pointed to the screen.
    Fia walked across the room to look and blanched. “Oh, God.” She met Colin’s gaze. Either the effect of his anger had passed or she was too frightened for Paul to let it affect her. “I’m going.”
    “No. I need you here.”
    “But—”
    Colin firmed his lips, shook his head. “I’ll find him. We need a name, Fia. This woman, and the partner. Someone in Polidori’s will recognize them; bring them in and Savi can give me the rest. I’ll find him,” he repeated when she began to argue.
    She swallowed, and her jaw clenched briefly before she said, “It’ll be Darkwolf, most likely.”
    “Fine.” It didn’t matter, so long as they knew who the woman was.
    The jingling tones of Savi’s computer drew his attention as it booted up; a small pile of electronics sat on the desk in front of her, and it grew with each softly voiced request she gave to the hellhound.
    She picked up a headset, plugged the wire into a slim radio. Colin stood motionless as she hooked it onto his belt, then slid the earphones over his head, adjusted the microphone at his chin. She discarded her helmet, then donned a matching contraption and tested the connection.
    “Q,” he teased quietly. “As well as Curry Delicious.”
    Her smile was brief. “Take Sir Pup,” she said.
    “He’s to stay with you. You cannot use the symbols and communicate with these.” He gestured to the radio. “I’ll not leave you unprotected.”
    Her dark eyes searched his, and he saw the moment she relented in the frustrated twist of her lips, the crease between her brows.
    “Take a shitload of