Demon Moon

she had spoken; everyone who’d fed from him was dead. And if she’d had any sense, she might have seen the sharpness of his smile for what it was and been frightened.
    But she was staring at his neck. “I am the eldest of them. The strongest. You and I could so easily rule the community together.” Her eyes met his, her gaze hungry. “Tell me that you do not think so as well.”
    “I think,” he said as he pulled his wrist from her grasp, “that I ought to retrieve a few items from my car.” His weapons.
    “No!” She caught his arm again. He stilled and looked down at her. And now terror threaded through her scent, but she did not recognize his anger; her gaze searched his face, and she blinked rapidly as if to clear her vision. “Don’t go yet. We can get rid of the body later. Let me feed from you. Please.” Her chest heaved. “Your face. I haven’t seen you like this. You’re so…” Her fear climbed and choked her words.
    Yes, he was. “You do not want to feed from me.” His swords were kinder than his blood was.
    Kinder than Colin was.
    “Yes.” It come out like a hiss from a demon’s tongue.
    Revolting. “Very well,” he said, and her expression reflected her surprise when he offered his bare wrist, already bleeding from the slice he’d made with his silver pen knife. She hadn’t seen him roll up his sleeve, or cut himself, but she did not hesitate. Her mouth covered the wound.
    Her pleasure flashed into his veins. Christ. Vampires’ psychic strength increased when feeding, but her mind was no match for his. He reinforced his blocks, heard the noise of protest she made before the bloodlust gripped her. She held his wrist to her mouth and reached for his trousers with her free hand. He trapped it in his, kept her away from him.
    She tried to writhe closer, drinking deep. Her bloodlust battered at his shields; he set his jaw and fought his hunger and arousal. Would that he could ignore his as easily as Savitri ignored hers—
    No. Do not think of her now . If he did, he’d probably give in to the lust, fuck this vampire against the wall. Nor did he want to associate Savi with what would surely happen next. The burning—the reek.
    The female’s bloodlust broke and she lifted her head, gasping. “I have heard that…you have no desire, but—” She bent and licked the now-healed line on his wrist.
    Colin stared at her. Nothing yet. Nothing. Perhaps after two centuries—
    She stiffened, shuddered. Pain burst through her psychic scent. Her eyes opened wide. Her fingers warmed against Colin’s skin, and he felt the flare of heat from her body.
    Colin slapped his hand over her mouth before she began screaming.

    The Guardian dropped out of the sky like a falcon and slammed to the asphalt in a crouch, his wingspan stretching the width of the alley. Colin rolled his eyes. Show-offs, the lot of them—though Colin had not previously thought Drifter was.
    The wings vanished as the Guardian rose to his feet; with his brown hair, a long brown coat, and coarse brown trousers, Drifter was a mountain of a man. A bloody tall mountain of a man.
    Drifter’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Colin leaning casually against the brick wall, and at a glance the Guardian took in the two figures at Colin’s feet. “I reckoned Agent Milton lied to me when she said that you were in danger.”
    “She likely wanted to see how quickly you could move.” No Guardian would have wanted to be assigned to cleanup.
    Judging by the wry smile on Drifter’s mouth, he’d come to the same conclusion. He sank to his heels and examined the bodies, the bottom of his duster bunching on the filthy asphalt. “That smell coming from this one?”
    “Yes.” Sulphur and burnt flesh, though no evidence of it showed on the female’s pale skin.
    With the tips of his fingers against her chin, Drifter turned the female’s head, exposed her neck. “You didn’t drain her?”
    “No.” And Colin had no intention of offering an explanation of how she could be dead with no injuries to show for it.
    Drifter propped his elbows on his knees, his gaze traveling between the female and the dead man. “Did she have a consort?”
    “Yes.” Colin had returned to the street, but the moment the other vampire had seen Colin, his brief flare of recognition had been followed by realization and terror. He’d run, leaving a psychic trail of grief and fear in his wake. Colin had let him go. “He fled. There are many in the city who still