Demon Moon

enough for now, Colin,” Michael said quietly.
    Colin stared blindly at the mountain. Somewhere behind that black pile of stone, a sheet of tinted glass, they all stared back.
    Damn them all.

    Savi ran up the steps to the second level of the warehouse; Drifter’s footsteps fell heavily behind her on each metal riser. Though she’d only asked the Guardian for directions, he’d insisted on leading her there.
    But he wasn’t in as much of a hurry as she was.
    She hadn’t needed to bring the sheaf of papers she held in her hand; every detail buried itself in her memory. But Colin would want to see. As would the others.
    On the landing, Drifter drew even with her. Ready to provide protection from Colin, she assumed. Perhaps because Hugh had been Drifter’s mentor—now he felt obligated to protect her, even though she’d insisted she didn’t need it. Always the little sister.
    She forced her resentment away. “Are Colin’s shields still down?”
    “No, Miss Savi. He’s raised them again; it was just those few moments.”
    Colin would hate that. Even if it was only a few moments, he’d hate knowing that whatever the mirrors did to him, each of the Guardians and vampires in the vicinity—even the imprisoned nosferatu—would feel it, too.
    Not out of concern for them, but that it allowed them more of himself than Colin wanted to give.
    The layout upstairs was less utilitarian than the first floor, and the rear portion was used for tiny dormitory-style living quarters and common rooms. Drifter guided her to the northwest corner via a narrow, unlit corridor. The solid wooden door at the end hadn’t been marked with anything as obvious as a NO ADMITTANCE sign, but everything about the approach stated it clearly.
    Drifter stepped in front of her, and she heard the click of the dead bolt. He opened the door and silently signaled to Michael. She looked beneath his arm, taking a brief second to see into the room, to prepare herself. But it wasn’t a scene of terror—more like a waiting room. Calming blue paint, soft lighting, and an overstuffed sofa that Sir Pup had taken up with his enormous form. The only unusual feature was the large, darkened window that took up most of one wall of the room….
    Not a window, a two-way mirror. Like the observation glass in a police interrogation room.
    Colin stood in front of it, leaning against the pane as if he needed it to prop him up, his eyes closed. Exhaustion and despair sat in the line of his body, the slump of his shoulders. His face was taut and pale, his mouth compressed into a thin line. Beneath the flat front of his trouser pockets, she could see the outlines of his fists.
    Tired and furious.
    Selah was beside him, speaking quietly. She paused as Savi entered the room, as did Hugh, Michael, and Lilith. Judging by their stiff postures, the anger on Lilith’s face, they’d been arguing.
    She barely heard Drifter leave and the door close behind him.
    Hugh’s expression softened into concern. “What is it, Savi?”
    Savi glanced back at Colin; he’d opened his eyes. Her gaze briefly locked with his, then his lids lowered into a predatory stare.
    He eased away from the glass.
    Savi’s heart climbed into her throat, seemed to pound the blood into her head at a dizzying pace.
    “Oh, fuck,” Lilith breathed.
    Savi silently echoed the curse. She’d been so careful; her shields were up, impenetrable. No scent could have leaked through to tease him, yet there was no mistaking the rapacious hunger that pulled his lips back over his fangs, that darkened his features.
    Stay there, Colin .
    “Savi,” Hugh said, his voice studiously even, “can this wait until later?”
    Colin’s lashes flickered as he stole a glance at the three standing by the sofa. Selah moved in front of him, but wasn’t tall enough to hide Savi from his sight.
    He met her gaze again. “Are you afraid, my sweet Savitri?”
    “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Not of you.”
    She only added the last for Hugh’s benefit; she didn’t know if his ability to see truth would differentiate between specific fears. She was afraid, but not that Colin would attack her.
    He was deliberately provoking them. Why? And did he think they wouldn’t realize it? Hugh could read truth as easily as he could read words on a page; one verbal slip on Colin’s part and Hugh would know. And Michael…who knew what Michael could see.
    She turned to Hugh. “It can’t wait. I need to talk to him before he goes