Demon Moon

her. “Has he tried to use your blood—body parts—as an anchor?”
    “Yes.” He stared straight ahead.
    Oh, god. Horrified, she said, “But it didn’t work?”
    “No. Go on, Savitri.”
    She really didn’t want to consider that, so she said, “So I think that Michael is using your ability to see Chaos to keep an eye on the nosferatu—and the wyrmwolf’s attack last month suggests that some kind of portal has opened. You immediately left for England, however, so Michael couldn’t keep watch over it. But now that you’re back, he wants you to use a mirror until they figure out what’s happening, and if the nosferatu in Chaos have something to do with it.” She took a deep breath and powered on the detector, checking its settings to keep her hands busy. “And I know that while I languished with boredom in Michael’s temple in Caelum, you were trapped in Chaos for almost a week, starving and almost mad. So I think seeing it now, even through the safety of a mirror, must be…unpleasant.”
    Terrifying. The lesson he’d taught her in Caelum had given her a very good idea of how terrifying.
    His fingers clenched on the steering wheel. “Castleford told you I could be teleported to Chaos? That I was mad ?”
    “No. He wouldn’t divulge such a confidence, even if I’d asked. Nor did Lilith,” she said before he could ask. “I guessed. Are they still back there?”
    After another glance over his shoulder, he took an onramp toward the city center. Probably letting the vampires think they were headed to Polidori’s. “Yes. Forgive me for doubting you, Savi—but that’s a rather spectacular bit of deduction.”
    She tested the wide stylus against her legs; on the small handheld screen, her thighs appeared orange and yellow. “Not so spectacular. Lilith can’t be teleported anywhere because her anchor to Hell is too strong; if either Michael or Selah tried to take her from SI to our house, they’d end up Below. And if they did, even Michael couldn’t teleport her out—she has to go through a Gate.”
    With the press of a few buttons, she changed the display mode. The screen blanked, and a moment later read: Human .2 meters . She suppressed the little thrill that went through her; it was still a prototype, and hardly worth celebrating.
    She continued, “Selah teleported Hugh to my apartment the night Beelzebub and the nosferatu set fire to your house. Hugh told Selah to return for you in your basement before fetching a Healer for him, and she teleported away. Did she find you?” Savi was certain Selah had; Hugh had inadvertently told her as much the previous day.
    “Yes.”
    “But she didn’t come back. Hugh had been her mentor, and the injuries were bad. Really bad. If she could have, she’d have come back. And neither you nor she came to the hospital in the days following, before Michael took me to Caelum. I saw Selah in Caelum three days afterward; she was really shaken up. And when you came to Caelum, it was Michael who brought you…though, given that they were preparing to go against the nosferatu within hours, Selah would have been a more sensible choice to leave Earth at that time, even for a few moments. Unless she couldn’t bring you. So I think your anchor took you both to Chaos, but she couldn’t get you out. Until, eventually, she left you alone and went to find Michael. And he’s the one who brought you back.”
    “I should have let you question me,” he said. She looked over at him; his tension and stillness belied the rueful humor in his tone.
    Her throat tightened. There had been more. His hands, which had been immaculately manicured only a week before Caelum, had been reddened at the tips of his fingers, the nails half-torn away—as if he’d tried to claw his way out of something. Michael couldn’t have healed that; self-inflicted and human-caused wounds were beyond his power to repair. And Colin should have healed more quickly on his own, unless hunger had taken its toll and slowed the process. “I’m sorry.”
    He cast her a puzzled glance before maneuvering around a truck. “For what do you apologize?”
    “Dredging it up. I don’t always know when to stop.”
    “Must I remind you that I requested your recitation?”
    “I could’ve just asked, ‘What did Michael want from you?’ And you could have said, ‘He wants me to make a dreadful observation in a mirror, my sweet Savitri.’”
    A smile touched his lips. “Your accent is dreadful. What is that