Demon Moon

I ran his original Latin document through a language translator, then tried to spiff it all up before I had it printed for him.”
    He turned his head to stare at her.
    “It was a present,” she said, grinning. “I was young.”
    “It’s atrocious .” He passed his hand over his hair. “Oh, good God. What does the Latin include that your version does not?”
    “Not much. Something about your brother-in-law, and Hugh taking over a vow Ramsdell made to your sister, promising to watch over you.”
    “Anything of Michael’s sword? Mirrors?”
    “No. Nothing about Chaos, either.”
    His jaw tightened. He slowed for a red light and remained silent until he accelerated again. “I did survive a month half-transformed.”
    She blinked. Had he returned to her earlier question to avoid speaking of Chaos? “The nosferatu wouldn’t have given you blood. Lilith said she tried to cut off his head while he attacked you—did it get into your mouth or something?”
    “No. I bit him whilst trying to get away.”
    “How uncivilized.”
    “Exceedingly.”
    “What did you eat afterward?”
    “Nothing, but for the broth Emily forced down my throat.” His brows drew together. “And I believe I tried to eat raw meat from the larder, but I’m not certain.”
    “You don’t remember?”
    “No. I’ve only a partial recollection of those days.”
    Some things, she supposed, were a blessing to forget. “And Hugh and Lilith used the blood of the nosferatu who originally attacked you to complete the transformation?”
    “That is correct.”
    “When did you find out you can withstand the sun?”
    “The first morning I did not return to Beaumont Court before sunrise.” He turned to look between the seats before switching lanes. “I’m surprised you do not know all of this already, my sweet Savitri. I’m well aware of how you located me last year. An illegal bit of computer wizardry.”
    She slid her tongue over her bottom lip to catch the last of the cinnamon and apple juice, and hoped the darkness would hide her blush from him. Probably not. Even if he didn’t look at her, he could probably feel the heat and blood.
    “It was only financial information—IRS and bank account records, a list of assets. Your address and phone number.” It hadn’t told her anything personal. Savi knew a lot about him, but she didn’t know him.
    And though she might have asked him in Caelum, she had been occupied—enthralled—by the impossible beauty of that realm.
    Enthralled by Colin.
    The streetlights washed over his features at regular intervals. His profile was as incredible as the rest of him. Even the rough shadow along his jaw enhanced his masculine perfection. She rubbed her tongue against the roof of her mouth; it suddenly seemed hot, tingly, as if she’d added too much cayenne to a dish.
    He took a deep breath, and his fingers clenched the steering wheel. The movement shook her out of her silent inspection. God. It was so easy to fall into a friendly banter with him, but she knew too well how his mood could change without warning. He could go from passion to humor to cruelty in the span of a smile; she’d be an idiot to forget what he was, just because it felt like heaven to look at him.
    And it was probably best to cover her stare with her curiosity. “Do you have to shave?” She bit her lip to contain her grin before she added, “Did you have a valet?”
    “Rarely; I also have to cut my hair, as do most vampires. And yes, until 1945.”
    “What happened in 1945?”
    “He died, and I learned to use a razor.”
    Without a mirror. Though she wanted to know what happened in Chaos, she wouldn’t broach that subject. Even after seven months, it must still be too raw. And Colin’s voice had taken on a rough edge; it hadn’t been there before, not even when he’d used his blood on her wounds.
    He reached out and pushed a button on the CD player. To silence her? She knew he could hear her over the music.
    The Velvet Underground. Lou Reed and a soft, delicate melody. Her smile widened when he shut it off. He had a lovely baritone; did he sing when he was alone?
    “Do my questions annoy you?”
    He glanced at her, his surprise evident. “No. I’m far too vain to object; I am my favorite topic.”
    His easy admission startled a laugh from her, but it faded when his gaze sharpened. The warmth spread from her mouth, burned through her stomach and settled low in her abdomen. “What is it then?”
    “We need to get