Demon Moon

bristles every few seconds. Over her fingers.
    In less than a minute, he covered her skin with a complex design that would have taken a skilled mehndi artist an hour or more. He released her hand, lifted her left.
    Stunned, she examined the petals of jasmine, the scrolling lattice and delicate leaves. Her stomach hollowed when she recalled where she’d seen it before.
    “Where did you get this pattern?” Did he know the significance of it? Or did he just think it attractive?
    “In your flat, from a book of traditional henna designs.” His breath swept as lightly over her palm as his brush. “Intended for brides. If you do not want it, wipe it away before it dries. Before the stain sets.”
    Colin pulled a white tea towel from his case. The thick terry was soft against her thigh, waiting.
    Never. She stifled the urge to curl her fists protectively, stared at his bent head. He held her hand in his, but didn’t continue painting; a fine tremor transferred from his fingers to hers.
    Ohmygod . Caelum swallowed her whisper.
    He’d remained in this realm for two months after she’d left. And the month before that, he’d lived almost wholly on animal blood—unable to hunt while the nosferatu had roamed the city. What had she imagined he’d done, fed from the Guardians here? Hunted them? She’d been so stupid; she hadn’t thought.
    Three months…and less than a year to recover from it, to build up immunity again. Now he was shaky. And only three days had passed since his last daysleep; he’d take another at the end of the night.
    His jaw tightened, and the trembling stopped. His brush moved over the heel of her hand, then began a bracelet around her wrist.
    “What did you intend?” she asked softly.
    “To manipulate your emotions.” The backs of her fingers now. “To force you to commit to me; to bargain for more time.”
    “For how long?”
    “Until Dalkiel was dead, but that could be tomorrow. Hardly as long as I’d like. Perhaps until the henna faded.”
    “Two more weeks. A month.”
    “Yes. Still not enough.” He paused, cleaned the bristles before setting the brush down. From his trouser pocket, he withdrew a small box. “Until these wore thin.”
    He met her eyes as he opened it; two rings lay nestled in velvet—a band for her, a thicker one for him.
    Her breath caught on laughter or a sob—she wasn’t certain. “Platinum doesn’t wear.”
    “I’d have invoked your promise to Auntie, and wept pathetically if you’d said no. The tears would have been sincere, but quite calculating. I find, however, that I prefer what you give without manipulation.”
    Her gaze dropped to her palms. “Then why the henna?”
    “Because, my sweet Savitri, you asked what was in the case.” Colin tilted her chin up, caught her lips in a soft kiss. “And I’ve ached to paint your skin for weeks. Months. Your hands, done quickly, was for you. The rest is for me.”
    “I wondered why I had to be naked,” she said breathlessly.
    “That is for me as well. What shall we do with these?” He gestured with the jewelry box; the rings gleamed silver beneath the sun. “Toss them into the fountain and make a wish?”
    “You should never pay more than a penny for a wish. I’ll put mine on until it wears thin.”
    “As I will.” His eyes closed briefly; when he opened them again, he smiled at her, his fangs flashing. “I’m pleased you are so practical in budgetary matters. Now, turn around and brace your elbows against the wall; I’ll begin with your back. Take care not to smudge your hands—good God, you’ve the sweetest arse.”
    A perfect reflection of her face laughed up at her; she rose up on her toes to see better. If a penny could allow him to see his after so many years, would it disappoint him or please him?
    “What would you wish for?” she wondered, then sighed in pleasure as his lips skimmed over her spine. The rasp of his zipper was loud in the silence of the courtyard. Her back arched, her hips pressing into the cool marble.
    “This. Forever.” He spoke against her shoulder, his skin bare against hers. “Ah, Savitri, look at you. What you do to me.”
    She watched as he slid deep, as the ecstasy unraveled over her features. Twice she forgot herself, closed her eyes, and tilted her head back; twice he reminded her to look. And she saw the need he created within her, spiraling, twisting ever tighter.
    She couldn’t let go. She didn’t want to do it herself.
    “Colin. Please.” Her