Demon Moon

courtyard and disappeared beyond a concrete sculpture.
    What would he be if he forced a commitment from Savi?
    Demonic came to mind. So did selfish . But they did not concern him as much as they might have, if the alternative for Savi and him was not alone .

    The first time Michael had teleported Colin to Caelum, the Guardian had dumped him unceremoniously in the middle of his temple, and disappeared immediately thereafter.
    And as pleased as Colin was not to be thrown to the floor, he’d have preferred Michael left as quickly. Instead the Doyen walked with him, nattering on about the effect of the realm seeming to lessen over time—and indeed, Colin noted with idle curiosity, he was not as overwhelmed by it. He’d attributed it to his eagerness to see Savi, but when he stopped and looked, he saw the same beauty, the same perfection…but it did not bring him to his knees.
    Nor did it seem a tomb. The faint sounds of Guardian life reached his ears: conversations, practice, movement. Only a few Guardians now—not enough to populate the realm, nor to protect Earth without human and vampire assistance—but it was life .
    “Perhaps I am better prepared to see it this time,” Colin said as he crossed the courtyard. The archway Savi had declared impossible rose in front of him, and his heartbeat sped to an equally unlikely rhythm. He could hear her, scent her. So close.
    She’d teleported with Selah almost three hours earlier; Colin had remained behind to collect the few gifts he’d kept hidden from her since his conversation with the Doyen earlier that week.
    “Perhaps,” Michael agreed. “Though I maintain you were both fortunate. With an anchor to Chaos in your blood, your passing through the Gate could have had a much different outcome.”
    Colin’s brows drew together, and he hesitated for just an instant. “A Gate?”
    Michael cocked his head toward the archway. “If I—or any other Guardian—passed through, we’d emerge in a Vietnamese village. I can teleport into that part of Caelum, but not walk.”
    Though his stomach was slightly unsteady, Colin grinned. “I must confess it gratifies me exceedingly, knowing there are two things I can do that you cannot.”
    “An orgasm with a kiss,” Savi said, poking her head into view beyond the left side of the archway, “and walking through a Gate. What’s that?” She nodded toward the case in Colin’s hand, curiosity widening her eyes.
    “One thing,” Michael said without expression. “I’ll return for you in two days.” He disappeared before they could respond; a sound like a dainty thunderclap echoed through the courtyard.
    Savi blinked. “Did you hear that? The vacuum filling. It works up here. What’s in the bag? I brought food. And a digital camera, but nothing appears on the display except the sky, me, and the Guardians. Oh, and Selah showed me the apartment we’ll stay in during your daysleep tomorrow; it looks terribly uncomfortable. How do they regulate time when the sun always shines? I wouldn’t have minded a trip to Vietnam,” she said as he stepped beneath the archway. “I imagine I’ll be traveling a lot pretty soon. I’ve been thinking.”
    The soft despair in her psychic scent told him before she did. His tongue felt thick as he led her toward the fountain. “Will I hunt you across the Earth? Or will you stay?”
    “Neither,” she whispered, and her breath hitched in her chest.
    The case fell from his grip, the paintbrushes and bottles rattling together. Her weight was nothing; he lifted her onto the wall, pressed his forehead to hers.
    “Stay,” he pleaded. “Stay with me, marry me, be with me.” It was selfish to ask; he didn’t care. If it took manipulation to force her to commit to him, he would manipulate.
    “I think about it,” she said, and her voice was hoarse. “I get to the point where I almost convince myself I could do it. Because my head knows you can’t help it, that you won’t really want to have sex with them, that it’s the bloodlust. And how many people have you been with—have I been with? They don’t matter. Why should any in the future be different?”
    They won’t be , he almost lied. But he could not. In the past he had wanted them; now, there was no one else. They would matter, because their very existence would hurt her.
    “I try to tell myself it’s just feeding, like stopping for take-out. And I think you’d be careful. You’d shower before you came home. But then I’d