Demon Night

sat up, frowning out into the blue.
    He was missing her—and didn’t want to rid himself of the effect of her touch, her smell. Not when he didn’t have something to fill him right back up again.
    Instinct led him to searching through his cache, looking for something to use. He’d left most of her things with her, but there were towels from her laundry that likely held her scent.
    He dropped one onto the bed beside him, tried again.
    Not perfect, but better; she was still there, and he could get rid of the fuzz without fearing so much that he was losing something of her.
    But everything else…everything else, it could go.

    When he got back to SI, Ethan paused only long enough to drop off the transcribed Scrolls at Castleford’s office before running up the stairs. Sunset was five minutes away, and Charlie would be more comfortable waking up to a familiar face than a strange room.
    He frowned walking through the common area; he was still getting those grave looks, and everyone was speaking real quiet-like when he entered a room. They all needed a talking-to, or a solid beating at the poker table. Losing a bundle of money would make them a bit less sympathetic.
    Charlie’s door was sealed with the spell. Ethan blinked and tried again, fighting the disappointment…and failing.
    Well, son of a bitch. He hadn’t even considered that she’d lock everyone out while she slept, but she must have been worried about her privacy.
    “Drifter.”
    Ethan swung around, suddenly uneasy. He couldn’t mistake the concern in Jake’s psychic scent.
    “Is Charlie all right?”
    “Yes,” Jake said. “And, no. I had to put up the spell about thirty minutes after sunrise because she was projecting so hard that we couldn’t block it out. I went back inside around noon, but there’s been no change.”
    Jake swung the door open.
    Everything looked just fine. Two new throws lay over the foot of the bed; she must have knitted both after he’d left. She’d taken the time to dress in her pajama bottoms and a—
    Jake lowered the spell, and the psychic wave hit Ethan hard, left him struggling for breath. God Almighty . Fear, despair, and loss were pouring from her, choking him under their weight.
    He went in; Charlie was sleeping curled up on her side. She clutched the ragged feather beneath her chin, and her grip on it didn’t loosen when he pulled her up into his arms.
    But there was nothing to do but hold her. A vampire’s daysleep—and the dreams that came with them—was solid, unbreakable.
    “Jake.” His voice was rough. “Get the spell up.”
    Jake drew in a sharp breath. “She’s skinny again.”
    Ethan couldn’t answer for a long minute. “Yes,” he finally said hoarsely, and brushed her hair back from her cheek. Almost as bad as the previous night, but she’d fed enough she shouldn’t have lost any weight. A healthy vampire might go two, three days without looking so emaciated, even if the bloodlust was tearing at them. “You go on out now.”
    Jake hesitated. “Milliken didn’t feed much, but when he did, he still woke up looking starved like that—”
    “ Go on out, Jake .”
    Ethan waited for the click of the door before rolling onto the bed and tucking Charlie against him. She wasn’t breathing, didn’t react, couldn’t respond.
    And a vampire’s daysleep had never seemed so much like death to him.

CHAPTER 21
    Charlie gasped herself awake, clawing her way out of darkness and frigid blood—into Ethan’s strong embrace and the warmth of his voice murmuring her name over and over.
    The lights in the room were off, but she clearly saw his face, his cheek against the pillow and only inches from hers. And she saw the worry in his eyes, even before he said, “Bad dreams again?”
    Charlie nodded, pressing her lips tight. Did every vampire go through this?
    His gaze was direct. “What are they about?”
    “Jane,” she rasped. “Blood.”
    He trailed his fingers along her jaw. “I saw her this morning. They’re staying at the Marriott, downtown. Separate rooms.”
    She couldn’t halt her smile. “She’ll make him pay, at least a little. Although I guess for a demon, it wouldn’t be punishment.”
    “I reckon it is. It may be he began sharing her bed to strengthen his hold on her, so as she wouldn’t leave him—but he loves her, so it’s likely it also gives him some measure of satisfaction when he pleases her. Denying him that opportunity would be punishment.” The corner of