Demon Moon

and breathed, pushed the blood down with the strength of the exhalation. It didn’t matter where it went, her lungs or stomach, as long as it went in .
    Her lashes fluttered; she blinked. Beneath her rib cage, her heart thundered into life. Her startled gaze flew to his, but he silenced her questions by pressing Ariphale’s arm to her lips.
    She didn’t hesitate; she drank quickly, and her psychic scent rose around them, unbelievably aromatic.
    Sweet, fearless Savitri. She’d make the best sort of vampire.
    Michael inhaled, his brow furrowing. He turned, and at his signal, the fledgling who’d stood guard outside the cell opened the door. “You and another to Alcatraz; a wyrmwolf may traverse the portal.”
    Surprised, Colin glanced away from Savi. “Could you detect it before now—the fragrance when she lowered her shields?”
    Michael frowned. “Her mind is open; that is how I knew she was not shielding. This odor is not psychic—it is the hellhound venom in the nosferatu’s blood.”
    His gut clenched. Oh, Christ; he’d not even considered that risk. “Has she taken enough?”
    “Yes.”
    Savi clung to the nosferatu’s wrist when he tried to pull it away; her eyes had closed as she drank, but now they opened wide. Colin jerked back, his knee slipping from Ariphale’s throat.
    No longer velvety, chocolate brown, the whole of her eyes burned crimson with hellfire. Like a demon’s.
    Like a hellhound’s.
    Heat rolled in waves from her flesh.
    A horrifying sound raced along her body: the deep splintering of bone, the wet tear of muscle. Her skin bulged as if a creature inside tried to leap out. Her fingers stretched and buckled, reformed into gnarled claws.
    He hardly heard himself calling her name over the noise of it—couldn’t hear anything at all over her screams.

    Colin didn’t feel the crash into Castleford’s living room, only the sudden, disorienting teleportation that preceded it. Savi writhed on the floor; his arms were around her, but he dared not hold her securely for fear of hurting her.
    “Give her to me, Colin,” Castleford said. His chest was bare, heaving. His gaze riveted on Colin’s face; his psychic shields snapped up. “And look away from us until you control it—I can help her, but you must let her go .”
    “I can’t.” His body shuddered. His grip tightened and Savi’s shrieks intensified.
    Lilith sped into the room, Sir Pup at her heels. Her gaze dropped as Savi’s back bowed, her vertebrae popping the length of her spine.
    “Oh, motherfuck. Sir Pup, my sword,” she said, and launched herself at Savi.
    Colin’s fangs were in Lilith’s neck less than a second later, but the shock of her blood prevented him from ripping her throat out. Sense returned.
    He’d let go of Savi. Lilith had deliberately provoked his protective instincts, and now she lay beneath him, unresisting.
    Castleford’s soothing murmurs rose beside them. Listen to me, Savi; don’t fight it. You must concentrate .
    Her screams ebbed into panting, whistling breaths.
    The calming words were effective on Colin, too. His body shook, and he slid his teeth from Lilith’s skin, rose up on his knees. He didn’t need to close the wounds; Michael’s power swept across the room in a low, focused pulse.
    His hand trembled as he helped her up. “God, Lilith. I’m sorry.”
    “That’s a good boy, you beautiful fucking idiot,” Lilith said, and slapped him sharply across his face before twining her arms around his shoulders—to support him or hold him in place. Probably both. Her tone gentled. “Her body’s trying to shape-shift. Michael’s keeping her brain from turning to mush, so don’t distract him by making him heal me again. Hugh will talk her through the rest of it.”
    And indeed, the convulsions had ceased—but her frame was misshapen, broken. Her feet had elongated, her shins and ankles fused at an angle almost lupine. She’d turned her face toward Castleford, but the visible side of her jaw was malformed, heavy.
    “You’ve seen this before?” Some of his terror drained away.
    Lilith’s tight embrace loosened. “It happens sometimes with fledglings if they don’t have a strong mental image of their forms to anchor themselves.”
    Savi’s shields had served as a block between her mind and body for over a decade. How would she know to reform it?
    She wouldn’t, Colin realized…but Castleford would. He’d mentored and trained novice Guardians for centuries.
    “Think,