Demon Moon

forced away his pity; he couldn’t allow his regret for their pain to get in the way of protecting them. If he hesitated in the future, wondering whose partner he might be cutting down, it endangered them all.
    What had they thought fighting Dalkiel would entail—killing faceless strangers? A demon would always use friends and acquaintances against his opponents; it made the despair slice more deeply.
    Colin cast a measuring glance at the solid metal fire door; he couldn’t hear anything from outside. It was possible Dalkiel hadn’t yet realized his defensive line had fallen. “Savi, love, we’re at the terrace. Give me a picture outside,” he murmured. Though Dalkiel must know they were coming, he might not realize they had the advantage of her eyes.
    “Oh, thank god. That was a lot faster than I expected; I thought he’d have someone guarding the stairs or something.” She didn’t try to disguise the relief in her voice. He looked down at a vampire’s head, at the blood soaking his sleeves, and didn’t tell her she’d been correct. “You’re going to come out in the middle of the north wall. I’ve got a blind spot just to the left of the stair housing. The right side is clear. About ten feet in front of the door is an artificial pond. Just beyond that is a gazebo; that’s where Dalkiel and Osterberg are. They went into it about a minute ago, just after you turned off your radio.”
    “Do you see Paul or Varney?” He met Fia’s gaze, gestured for her to replace the gun she held with her sword. Once we’re through the door, go around low and check the left side , he signed.
    “No, but the gazebo roof is blocking most of its interior. It’s about fifteen feet in diameter, I’d guess. The sides are open.”
    “If we need to take immediate cover, which direction should we go?”
    “There’s a big concrete planter on the left side of the pond. About four feet high. It would block any shots from the gazebo.”
    “Have you alerted SI?”
    “Yes. They’re headed downtown, but I haven’t given them a location yet—not until you need it. Or until I have to. Lilith is…angry,” she said, and Colin could almost see her grimace.
    “Bloody hell.” Best to do this quickly, then. “Hold her off. We’re going out.”



CHAPTER 23

    I am inclined to let him rot in his sickbed. I daresay you will not find such a response acceptable, but that is why I abhor vows—they compel me to action. Both Hippocrates and your Guardian mentor would have done well to leave the hopeless and the cursed alone. Alas; to Greece we go? Perhaps I shall force him to finally admit that I am the more beautiful before I offer him my blood .
    —Colin to Ramsdell, 1824

    Colin thrust open the door and stalked to the edge of the pond, armed with his gun and a sword. Behind him, he heard a vampire’s cry as Fia struck one down in his hiding place, heard Darkwolf’s and Gina’s running steps as they fell into position behind the concrete box and took aim over its bulk. Their eyes widened with horror.
    Fia’s psychic distress swamped his mind before she caught herself, cut it off.
    Paul and Varney couldn’t have run; Dalkiel had taken their feet. Their blood formed a dark pool on the gazebo floor. They were still alive, their wounds already closed and their shields strong—likely for Fia’s sake rather than their own—but they desperately needed to feed.
    Colin flicked a glance at Osterberg before returning his attention to Dalkiel. “As fond as I am of fangs—and as much as I despise pinkie rings—you were much more pleasant to look upon in the café.”
    Much more. Colin had thought he’d known demonic, but Lilith’s form had never been so inhuman. Though the wings and curving obsidian horns were familiar, crimson scales glittered over Dalkiel’s body instead of skin, his knees articulated in the reverse, and his feet ended in cloven hooves.
    The stuff of nightmares—but Colin’s reality had been worse.
    “I shall adopt that form again when it suits,” Dalkiel said. His voice slithered over Colin’s skin, and the vampire had to repress a shiver. The demon’s glowing red eyes lit on Fia; his enjoyment in her pain was no doubt as great as it had been when he’d amputated Paul’s feet. “And I shall make improvements.”
    Colin snorted humorlessly. “Don’t be absurd. Shall we bargain, then?”
    The demon’s attention was riveted on him; pleasure pulled his lips into a thin smile. In Colin’s ear,