Demon Moon

beneath her.
    “I used a kitchen tool and made a spiral of orange zest,” he said. “It was a lovely embellishment until it sank.”
    The blood sloshed; he quickly took it back.
    It was with a long sigh that her laughter ended. The slice of orange sat on the rim, and she pulled it off. Holding it as someone taking a shot of liquor would a wedge of lime, she drained the blood in one gulp—then bent forward and, her throat convulsing as if she fought nausea, sucked the juice from the orange.
    Colin sat frozen with astonishment. “You can taste it.”
    “I didn’t think it would be that bad.” She wiped at her mouth. “That was pig?”
    He nodded.
    “I’m officially a carnivore now. Excuse me.”
    Did she know how quickly she moved? In less than a second, he heard the sound of the faucet in the washroom, the scrub of her toothbrush. She returned a few minutes later, the sharp aroma of mint on her breath.
    “It must be the hellhound part of me. I can’t eat like Sir Pup, though—I had a piece of bread at Hugh’s, and it didn’t stop the hunger. But the blood did.”
    Crawling onto the bed, she laid her head in his lap and rolled around to look at him upside down. Her hair was silk beneath his fingers, and he vowed never to have anything less against his skin.
    “It will be more pleasurable when you take it from a human or vampire.” He hoped he would not be proven a liar. “Will you return to Castleford’s home? There is no vampire like you, Savi; he’s most qualified to help you adjust.”
    “I guess so. Until Dalkiel is dead, anyway.”
    And then what would she do? But he daren’t ask; it was agony enough to offer: “I’ll take you to Polidori’s tomorrow night and teach you how to feed; it is the one thing I’ve more expertise in than Castleford.”
    “Just bite and suck, right?”
    Her humor was forced, but so was his. “If you wish to be a bourgeois sort of vampire.”
    “No. Never that.” She turned her cheek, rubbed lightly against him. “Your libido still functions.”
    He could have wept. “Yes. But I’d not be able to prevent you from taking my blood. You’re exceptionally strong, with little practice at control—and the most beautiful vampire I’ve ever seen. I’d not be in my senses.”
    Her lips pressed tightly together, she nodded and sat up, linking her arms around her bent knees. “Will you stay with me until the sun rises?”
    “Yes. Until it sets again. Until you have to leave.” He memorized her profile. The curve of her back. The tips of her hair. The lay of her hands. “I love you, Savitri.”
    “No.” Her shining eyes met his. “The evidence suggests that your feelings are exponentially greater than that.”
    Christ, how she tore him apart. He swallowed over the ache in his throat. “It never ceases to amaze me, how extraordinarily brilliant you are.”
    She sighed. “I wish I were brilliant enough .”



CHAPTER 27

    The Sunday crowd at Polidori’s was thinner than it had been the previous week, the vampire-to-human ratio much higher. Savi had seen more than one human group leave, complaining of the temperature and rubbing their arms to warm themselves; others took to the dance floor with dizzying vigor.
    She could hardly bring herself to watch them as they smiled and laughed and their blood pulsed through their veins like electronic music. Could barely see anything.
    Perhaps she was enthralled—her heightened senses bombarded by light and sound and psyches, until Polidori’s faded into a surreal backdrop.
    How could this be real? This couldn’t be how it would end: infinitely simple.
    Infinitely painful.
    She couldn’t think. Blocking hadn’t helped. She wasn’t the least bit intoxicated, though Epona had sent Bloody Mary after Bloody Mary to their table. As a joke? As congratulations?
    Savi didn’t know. Didn’t ask. She chugged them down, felt the burn of alcohol that couldn’t assuage her thirst and didn’t numb anything.
    And she didn’t want any of them, but she forced herself to ask, “Why not Denver?” She nodded toward the vampire signing lyrics at a camera. Colin had consulted with her about hiring the kid, and they’d agreed it would be easier to keep an eye on his activities—and protect him from Dalkiel—if he spent most of his evenings at the club. “He volunteered. His new partner doesn’t care.”
    “He’s too young; he’d not have enough control to prevent his feeding from you.”
    Her smile probably would have