Demon Moon

“Nothing, sweet.”
    Her eyes narrowed. “What?”
    He averted his face, and his fingers played with the dagger at her hip before he said, “I’ve simply had a moment of clarity.” He turned his head to arch a brow at her, and his smile widened until his fangs glistened in the darkness. “Aside from my spectacular appearance—on both ends—I love nothing so much as a moment of clarity.”
    “Please share it.” Her lips pursed against a laugh when he shook his head again. His humor had a dark edge to it, but it was infectious. And much preferable to dwelling in the past. “We have enough time. It’s still five minutes until my taxi arrives.”
    “Five minutes is never enough time.” He ran his thumb down the length of her jawline, and laughed softly when her breath caught.
    Savi flushed, but didn’t bother to deny her response. She had no reason to be ashamed of it, and he would’ve known a denial for a lie. And as she wouldn’t pursue it after that night, it didn’t matter what she gave away in the next few minutes.
    Regret tightened her throat. What a disastrous end to a promising evening.
    He’d been watching her silently, but now curiosity formed a ridge between his brows. “And so that is why you’ve forgiven me for Caelum? You’ve discovered I was suffering from flashbacks, and couldn’t discern my memories of Chaos from reality. That I had been starved and terrified beyond reason for the better part of a week. That I resented being shuttled off for my protection, and manipulated by Castleford and Lilith into leaving them to fight the nosferatu by themselves. You’ve analyzed the events surrounding my arrival there, and made excuses for my behavior.”
    She hadn’t known most of that. He hadn’t wanted to go to Caelum? And he’d had moments of hallucination? She tried to fit it into her memories of their time in Caelum, and couldn’t.
    But she finally recovered herself enough to say, “As I have done again this evening—made excuses for you. The blood, the wyrmwolves’ attack.”
    His lids lowered, only a pale arc showing beneath his lashes. “Yes. But tonight’s offense against you was unintentional. Caelum was not. I knew exactly what I was doing when I sent you a part of Chaos.”
    A tight band squeezed at her lungs, and she only managed a pathetic, “Oh.”
    He added quietly, “But I didn’t realize that you’d remember it as anything more than a vague—if rather unpleasant—dream.”
    She stared up at him, her lips parting in surprise. No. She couldn’t have forgotten. It couldn’t have been a dream…or a nightmare.
    Oh, god. Her eyes widened. And how close had she come to fooling herself that it might be a dream, and that she could experience it like every other woman did? That she could forget?
    That would have been disastrous.
    He slid his fingers from her jaw, around the curve of her ear, as if tucking away a stray piece of hair. “I regret that assumption as well, and what it has left in you.” She shivered as his fingertips skimmed the length of her throat. “I would give you its opposite, when we again have the opportunity. Something better to add to your web of memories.”
    She shook her head. “It’s okay.”
    His lips thinned. “Savi—” His teeth clenched, and he bit off the rest. His hand dropped away from her neck. “You cannot forgive everything so easily,” he said with a touch of exasperation.
    She smiled weakly. “You’d be surprised. I don’t like to obsess over the past, particularly offenses and misfortune.”
    “No, and I am glad of it, for it does nothing but create the most tiresome sort of brooding maniac.” His eyes gleamed with sudden humor; behind him, twin headlights cut through the parking lot. The taxi. “Like Castleford.”
    She pushed to her feet, laughing reluctantly. “Yes.”
    Colin shot a quick glance over his shoulder, then strode past her to collect her bag from the front seat of the car. She didn’t argue when he escorted her with his hand upon the small of her back, nor when he leaned down to give the driver her address.
    And, she noted with a quick grin, a few twenty-dollar bills; it was far more than the fare would be. His courtesy—or his guilt—must have overwhelmed his budgetary scruples.
    She lifted the handle of the back door, but his hand on the top of the door frame stopped it from opening.
    “Kiss me good night, Savi.” His gaze rested on her lips. His eyes glittered with suppressed hunger.