Demon Moon

must beg your pardon: I have yet to hunt. Have we finished?”
    Colin didn’t wait for their assent or for Castleford to call him on his lie; he left. The night air was cool against his face, heavy with moisture. A fog coming in.
    The breeze carried a thread of scent. Sweet. He ground his teeth together and ignored it. Just memory, tormenting him.
    He slid into the leather seat, leaned back against the headrest. Faint, but still there. Remnants from her presence in his car a month ago? It had to be, though he’d not detected it earlier that evening.
    And it was odd that this memory had a direction. West, toward Lake Merced.
    There would be hunting to be had there.



CHAPTER 6

    In vampires, the bloodlust responds to free will—but only the free will of the victim. If the victim does not want the vampire’s sexual attention, the bloodlust won’t force it on them; but if the vampire doesn’t have control over himself, even after the bloodlust has faded, he might force the sex. On the other hand, if the victim wants it and the bloodlust is high…well, once he starts drinking there’s not much for the vampire to do but go along for the ride .
    —Savi to Taylor, 2007

    The baseball arced over the tops of the trees, disappearing in the dark and fog. Two hundred yards, at least.
    Sir Pup sprinted to fetch his ball, and Savi shook her head in disbelief. Though she wasn’t a complete wimp, she’d long ago accepted she was less than athletically gifted. This was incredible. Even Barry Bonds couldn’t have smashed a home run that far.
    The hellhound barked in the distance, and she bit her lip in sudden alarm. Hopefully it hadn’t hit someone on the head or destroyed a car window. But no, there he was, breaking free of the tree line and trotting across the grass.
    Oh, shit—Colin was with him. She’d recognize that elegant stride anywhere. Dammit. As if it hadn’t been difficult enough to pretend disinterest when she’d thanked him at his car. She’d spent most of the afternoon building her psychic shields to steel; assuming that she wouldn’t see him again that evening, she hadn’t maintained them.
    Breathing slow and steady. Focus. And don’t look at his face. Not right away .
    She pasted on a smile and gazed at a point over his shoulder. She probably looked like an idiot—but she felt like one, so it was as well. Smart women ran when they saw a vampire approaching.
    And if their hearts raced, it should be from fear.
    The point over his shoulder rose higher and higher as he neared her. She lowered her gaze to the pocket of his jacket. Why did he wear it? He wouldn’t become cold. Was it simply because it looked fantastic, as if it had been tailor-made to fit him?
    It probably had been.
    He stopped directly in front of her, less than an arm’s length away. Too close. “You shouldn’t be alone in the park after sunset, sweet Savitri.” Though his words admonished her, his tone did not. It was low and warm. Seductive.
    Her throat was dry. She swallowed and said, “Sir Pup is with me. I’m not being foolish.”
    “No, you are not. He’s a fine protector. But you should not be alone.” Colin trailed his forefinger from her ear to jawline, tipping her face up with gentle pressure.
    A shiver ran over her skin. She stared at the cleft in his chin. Not too deep, just a lovely shadow.
    “Do you know why I’m here?”
    “To hunt?”
    “No.” She heard the smile in his voice. “I prefer not to chase after men and women on the jogging paths.”
    “It does seem creepy,” she said. “Like a serial killer.”
    His fangs glistened in the fog-muted moonlight; his laughter was soft. “Yes, I imagine it does. I was off to hunt. But I was overcome by the most delicious fragrance.” He slowly bent his head toward hers. A breath away from her mouth, he inhaled deeply. He didn’t touch her lips, but she could feel the warmth from his. “It disappeared when I saw you across the lawn. Why do you think that is?”
    “The breeze shifted?”
    “I am downwind of you.”
    “Perhaps I’m not the source.”
    “Perhaps.” He teased the corner of her mouth with a flick of his tongue. She closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing, on standing. What was he doing to her? “Perhaps it is Sir Pup,” he said.
    “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, it must be.”
    “How would you test such a thing, Savitri? Send him away? Remove a variable?”
    “I’m a variable,” she said.
    “But should you leave and Sir