Demon Moon

demon and my trilogy of violence against otherworldly beings will be complete.”
    The corners of his eyes crinkled. “Or you could bring it to an end at the sequel. Third installments are usually the least satisfying.”
    Her laugh sounded strained to her own ears, and she pinched the bridge of her nose to ease the ache forming behind her forehead. “And yet another reason to marry, I suppose. To avoid the need for a third.”
    “Yes.” His voice flattened, and he tossed the knife carelessly onto the hood next to her hip.
    She glanced down at its gleaming blade, then lifted her brows in query as she raised her gaze to his again.
    The humor had fled from his expression. He tucked his hands into his pockets and stared down at her, his eyes bleak. His throat worked above his collar, as if he had to force words to his tongue—or attempted to swallow them.
    “Forgive me, Savi.”
    She lowered her hand to her lap. “Okay.”
    He shook his head, as if he thought she only meant to appease him with her easy capitulation. Sincerity deepened his voice. “I did not intend to hurt you.”
    “I know, Colin. And it’s fine.” She said it barely above a whisper, and through an effort of will she called up a wide smile, a stronger tone. “I can’t carry anger or a grudge; you’ll see upon our next meeting, it’ll be as if nothing has happened at all. That’s my other big failing, you know: not just a lack of fear or not thinking, but forgiving far too easily.” Remembrance made her throat tighten. “Even for those who probably don’t deserve it.”
    A muscle in his jaw hardened. Self-derision darkened his eyes.
    “Not you,” she said, realizing how he must have interpreted her statement. “The man who killed my brother and my parents.”
    He blinked. “That is a failing.”
    She gave a half-hearted smile. “I told you.” Her gaze dropped to his stomach. The bloodstain hadn’t spread, but the skin showing through the tear in his shirt looked raw. She patted the hood next to her. “You should sit. You’re in as terrible a shape as I am.”
    He didn’t, but he leaned his hip against the side, still facing her. “You said you weren’t injured.”
    “Not really; a bit of whiplash, a couple of bruises here and there. Michael or Dru can fix me up tomorrow.” The two Guardians could heal everything but the cut across her palm—she’d inflicted it on herself. “I’ve had worse. This is nothing.”
    Colin’s gaze traveled the length of her, as if determining the truth of her statement—or thinking of that which had been worse. “How is it that a man can murder an eleven-year-old boy, a man, and his wife for the sum of twenty-three dollars and two gold watches—and but for the interference of a Guardian, would have attempted to silence a little girl, as well—yet you forgive him for it? What an extraordinary creature you are.”
    He said the last with a smile, but there was an edge of disbelief and disapproval in his tone. She knew he probably likened it to the nosferatu killing his family; a heartless, evil act, committed by a person of the same nature.
    And as she’d reproached herself for it more than once, she couldn’t blame him. “You know of it—from Hugh?” At his nod, she looked down at her hands. She had to swallow before she explained, “I didn’t want to. I hate what he did, and I wanted so badly to hate him . James Anderson. His name was…” She closed her eyes. “And I probably would have, if I’d never found out what happened to him afterward.”
    Colin made a scoffing sound. “Shooting himself in the head?”
    “Yes,” she said quietly. “He did it the same night, only an hour after. So I think there must’ve been something terribly deranged, something terribly wrong with him…even more than whatever drove him to rob us and shoot Mom and Dad and Ras.” She had to pause before she could continue, and still tears clogged her voice. “I mean, you have to be pretty fucked up to do something like that. But then to kill yourself afterward? And the cops said it wasn’t drugs or anything. So there was remorse, or guilt, or something—he couldn’t have been so cold-blooded. Maybe he was mentally sick, and when he realized what he’d done…” She trailed off. Colin had gone rigid beside her, his hand clenching at his thigh. She glanced up at him, saw the shock on his features before he concealed it. “What is it?”
    He smiled quickly, tightly, and shook his head.