Demon Moon

thick lashes around wintry gray eyes. A blond god, with a deity’s careless cruelty; the firm line of his mouth suggested it, and his smile was a predator’s.
    Was that wink to reassure her or to mock her?
    Talk to me, sweet. Can you see it?
    Savi turned, leaned out over the aisle. The top of its head. It took only another minute to locate the seating plan from the airline website and send him the link and seat number.
    You’re in first class?
    Nani’s with me. And the reason she’d chosen the ridiculously expensive tickets. Savi had insisted over Nani’s protests, citing reasons that ranged from her grandmother’s age to the fatigue of the endless flight and multiple connections.
    Did it accomplish anything? Is she impressed by what you’ve made of yourself, or does she think you more reckless than ever, tossing away money?
    Ah, there it was. She could almost hear the aristocratic accent, the lazy viciousness.
    Are you deliberately trying to piss me off?
    Yes. The nosferatu will eat your fear. It’s ambrosia to such as us.
    She sighed. Surely he realized that seven months of living near Lilith had inured her to such melodrama. And he didn’t need to convince her that the nosferatu was terrible, evil—she knew what it was.
    I’m not afraid , she repeated.
    She didn’t add that if he asked again in forty minutes and Michael still hadn’t shown, he’d get a completely different answer. Colin took as much pleasure in producing fear as he did in his appearance. And Savi was easy—but not that easy.



CHAPTER 2

    Caelum is…beyond beautiful. A fitting home for once-humans who call themselves Guardians, and who claim their powers have an angelic source. I’ve heard Hell described exactly as you imagine it: fire and brimstone, cities crawling with demons, and torture pits. But Chaos—no one will tell me anything about Chaos. I’ve had to guess most of it .
    —Savi Murray, in a secured e-mail to Detective Taylor, 2007

    Colin tore his hands through his hair and tried to ignore the voice yelling at him through his speakerphone. “Make sure she stays calm, Colin, or I’ll rip your balls off! Tell her to get into that bathroom right now and use the fucking symbols.”
    Shut up, Lilith . He didn’t say it aloud, because she would rip his balls off. They’d regenerate, but he liked that part of his anatomy too much to lose it, even temporarily. He said through clenched teeth, “Agent Milton, my dear, you are not helping. Where’s Castleford?”
    At times, it was much easier to deal with the former Guardian; his self-control was near legendary, his focus unrelenting. Lilith’s was…not, and the more she cared for the person threatened, the more demonic she became.
    Colin had no intention— no time —to manage her fear over his own.
    He heard the deep draw of her breath through the speaker, the buzz of her motorcycle. Her tone was slightly more even when she continued. “Training the newbie vamps over in the Mission. He’s on his way now. I’m almost to our place. That plane—I knew it. The bloodsucker probably thinks it’s an abomination for humans to fly. Goddammit, I’ve been stonewalled for a week by the FAA and the British—”
    “Lilith!”
    Another deep breath. Then softly, “This is going to kill him, Colin.”
    No, the only thing that might kill Castleford would be losing Lilith; but Colin realized it was something he could use to convince Savitri to hide. Her relationship with Castleford echoed that of a brother and sister—she might not fear for herself, but she might do as Colin asked for Castleford’s sake.
    “Get her in there, Colin. I don’t care what you have to do or say. You’re beautiful; promise her use of your glorious body for the next fifty years.”
    “You don’t have to manipulate me, Lilith,” he muttered. Recollection of Savitri’s caramel skin, her scent, and the taste of her blood might tempt him , but he doubted he would have the same effect on her.
    Castleford wants you to take Auntie to the washroom and use the protection of the symbols to keep the nosferatu out.
    He waited restlessly for her reply, rubbing at a spot of Prussian blue on his palm. Caelum had become yet another obsession, but it slipped away with each stroke of his brush. And as with all that was elusive, he only pursued it the more. Soon his memory of Caelum would be a pale imitation of the images on canvas.
    Run, Savitri. Hide .
    “Is she going?”
    If Michael and Selah arrive