Demon Moon

counter.
    Colin stilled. A muscle in his jaw worked. “Did I frighten you?”
    “No. But it’s an appropriate reaction when an angry vampire lunges my way.”
    A thin smile curved his mouth. “So it is.” He stalked out of the room.
    Savi stood dumbstruck in the center of the kitchen, her heart pounding, wondering if she should follow him. She didn’t have to go far; she found him in the living room, staring up at the painting of Caelum. His hands were tucked into his pockets, his eyes shadowed beneath his brows.
    “Will you invite me in tonight?” His voice was once again subdued, quiet.
    He asked now ? When she was upset and—oh, god, it shouldn’t be this hard to refuse. She had a billion reasons; she could only remember one, and only because it was right in front of him.
    “I did that once.”
    He nodded. The light washing over Caelum glinted off the gold of his hair. “Please offer my apologies to Castleford and Lilith when they emerge.”
    “You’re leaving?” Dismay tightened her voice.
    “You will apparently feed everyone tonight except me, so I must find someone more willing elsewhere.” His lips brushed her forehead as he passed her. “Good night, Savitri.”
    Perhaps it was best that her throat ached unbearably; she couldn’t call him back. But there was no reason for her chest to hurt so much when the door closed behind him.

    Heavy, early-evening traffic prevented Colin from speeding through the streets. He veered into the left lane on Clarendon, then slammed the brakes and ground his teeth together when the bastard in front of him halted at a stoplight.
    Sod this. The Bentley purred eagerly when he revved the engine. He waited for a lull in the cross-traffic, then tore past the bastard and screeched through the intersection, making a right turn onto Seventeenth. There would be plenty of humans in The Castro to choose from, whether tourists or residents, and the hunt would take his mind from the scene in Castleford’s kitchen—though he doubted any could ease the hunger and frustration building inside him.
    An ivory tower. Fucking ridiculous. She was the one holding herself on a pedestal, forcing him to beg for scraps, never letting him in. What did she want from him? Would she be satisfied if he went down on his knees and groveled for forgiveness?
    Christ. If his need became much worse and if she withheld her flavor much longer, he probably would.
    He drove through the center of the district and parked in the first available space. Brightly colored flags fluttered from streetlamp posts and store fronts. The night air was crisp and dry, and he stalked down the pavement, searching each face, touching each mind. So many choices, and all so appreciative of his beauty: the neatly dressed, bald male sitting alone in a deli who rose up from his seat by the window to keep Colin in sight as long as possible; the blond woman who turned and walked backward, gesturing wildly to her friends that they should look . Easy prey.
    But Colin was searching for one that struck a familiar psychic note or possessed a fleeting resemblance to Savi— anything to ease the ache of his need for the wide-eyed, curious, stubborn woman. And it was the one who came out of a film rental shop that caught Colin’s attention: small and dark, with skin like cinnamon. His hunger sharpened, and his nostrils flared as he tried to detect a scent. He hoped it would be sweet and clean.
    Before Caelum, he had never needed a substitute—had never fixated on a living being. Savi might very well have called his behavior creepy; Colin would have agreed, if he’d ever managed to forget whoever he was with wasn’t the one he wanted.
    And if the community’s vampires were still following him and analyzing his feeding patterns, they’d soon have more evidence of his latest obsession. He smiled grimly as he crossed the street toward the rental shop and performed a cursory scan of the surrounding area.
    A vampire was near. His psychic scent burned with resentment, but was focused away from Colin—and the vampire gave no indication that he knew Colin was there. Not following him, then. A quick glance at the vampire confirmed it; two blocks away, the male sat at a café’s sidewalk table, facing the opposite direction. Brown hair touched the vampire’s shoulders, but Colin could easily see the hair above his ears had been cut short. Good God. The sod could see his reflection, and yet he’d retained a horrid, outdated—
    A