Demon Moon

down there the rest of the slow trip, though the sun descended past the horizon. Twilight hung a violet backdrop against his house when the taxi dropped them off in the street. She punched in the code to the gate, then, grinning, challenged him to a race and darted through.
    Did he let her win, or had he slowed so much?
    She forced the question away; as soon as he stepped through the front door, tension stiffened his body. He inhaled, a long draw of breath.
    “Dalkiel?” she whispered. The house had been locked, but not spelled. The demon could have come in at any time.
    He nodded. Two swords were in his hands; apparently, he’d let her win. He’d retrieved them so quickly his movement had seemed a blur. “Two days old, perhaps. And three vampires—I don’t recognize their physical odor.” He tilted his head, relaxed slightly. “No psychic presence.”
    She glanced quickly around; Dalkiel hadn’t destroyed anything. “Taking inventory of what he wants to claim?”
    Colin smiled. “I’ll accompany you to the basement, then I’ll make certain the house is secure before I lock up with the symbols. Once you’ve gone in the room, ring Lilith. Ask her to send the pup over.”
    “Okay.”
    “Don’t open it until I move Mary.”
    The portrait in the theater. “I remember,” she said, and followed him down the stairs, her heart thudding. The vampires couldn’t hide their psychic scent from him, but Dalkiel could. “Why don’t you go in with me until Sir Pup gets here?”
    “That,” he said as he crossed the theater, “is a splendid idea.”
    Colin reached the door; it was half-open, but when he tried to walk through, he slammed into the empty air as if it were solid. He stumbled back.
    Two scarlet eyes flared bright from the darkness within.
    Oh, god . They’d discovered how to use the symbols.
    “Run, Savi—” Colin’s ragged warning broke off as Dalkiel rushed through the door. Their swords clashed, sparking with the force of each blow; within a moment, Colin was at the other side of the room. Drawing the demon away from her, she realized. Or falling back.
    Think, Savi. Get help; get weapons . She turned, fumbling for her pendant as she began to run. But she wasn’t as fast as a vampire.
    And there were three of them.

    This was hell.
    Colin sensed the presence of three vampires as they left the shielded room—hungry…starving. Heard Savi’s quickly stifled scream, felt the burst of her psychic scent as her shields dropped. In pain.
    Holding her arms, they dragged her into the security room. When the fragrance of her blood and the wet sucking sound of vampires glutting themselves tinged the air, it descended beyond hell.
    And Dalkiel was playing with him.
    The demon could have killed him. He effortlessly parried Colin’s increasingly desperate thrusts. Dalkiel’s sword had drawn blood from his arms, his chest, his face; each strike potentially debilitating, even fatal.
    But he only made certain Colin didn’t get to Savi.
    Her scent was fading. Her heartbeat fluttered like a hummingbird’s. Low blood pressure, from exsanguination.
    Everything blurred. Sweat or tears or his own blood, dripping into his eyes. Even if he got to her, how could he save her? How could he—
    Dalkiel fell back. Fear erupted from his mind, was quickly shielded. And for just an instant, the demon stopped toying with him.
    Colin streaked past him. The vampires fed from Savi’s still body; they’d no opportunity to defend themselves.
    Had he more time, he’d have gutted each one slowly. Instead, his blade sliced through their necks; Savi’s lifeblood splashed useless to the floor.
    “What in Lucifer’s name are you?” Dalkiel stood in the door, his sword dripping. “You did not appear on the monitors as you came in; we thought she came down the stairs alone. I’m pleased that she wasn’t—though torturing her with your face would have been entertaining.”
    Colin ignored him, kicked the bodies aside. He fell to his knees, gathered her up; she was limp in his arms. Her throat had been ravaged, her inner thigh. Her breath was thin, bubbling with each short draw.
    “Stay,” he said, though he could barely manage that simple word. Don’t leave me here alone .
    She heard him; her body shook with the effort she made to speak. He hushed her, curling forward as hollow agony tore through his gut, and rocked soundlessly. He couldn’t think; couldn’t breathe.
    He forced himself to do both. He sat up and his