Demon Moon (31 page)

Castleford's expression gave no evidence of his thoughts. “What do you imagine could secure such for her?”

“I need a long-term food source that I won't fuck,” Colin said bluntly. “You've had access to Caelum's library, have read all of the Scrolls, might have knowledge of a—”

He broke off as pity darkened Castleford's face.

Colin glanced at Lilith, saw the same in her eyes. Panic began to claw at his chest, and he forced it away. This wasn't the only option. There was Michael, and if nothing else, a demon might bargain with him.

Chaos would be an irresistible temptation.

“There isn't one, Colin.” Castleford's knuckles whitened as his grip on his helmet tightened. “She's in love with you? She told you this?”

“No.” Bloody hell, but he wished he could lie to Castleford as easily as Savi had to him. “She said it was nothing. Just a phase. It isn't true.”

It couldn't be.

Castleford gave a short nod. “Even if it was a lie, it was a choice she made. Respect her will and let her go.”

“Everyone lets her go,” Colin growled, fisting his hands to keep from launching himself in an attack. “I'll not be like them.”

Halting in the doorway to the garage, Castleford looked over his shoulder, ice in his blue gaze. “She doesn't commit to anything she can't follow through on. Don't use her feelings to force her into a commitment. You'll be little better than a demon, and I'll treat you as such.”

Lilith snorted with laughter, though her dark eyes held no humor. “Treat him as you do me? Please do. I've been waiting to see that kiss between you two for a year.” She turned to Colin. “Why the fuck are you at his throat?”

Good God, but Lilith was intolerable at times—and worse when she was right. Castleford was not being unreasonable, nor was he responding in any way Colin hadn't expected. Yet he'd immediately reacted as if the other man had considered him a triviality to be dismissed.

Chagrined, he said, “I came to inform you that I intend to court her. I'm not asking permission, I simply don't want to wake up with you in my bed again.” He stole a glance at Castleford. “I'd not force her into anything. I will, however, charm, seduce, and if necessary, prostrate myself at her feet.”

Castleford closed his eyes, leaned against the door frame. “Court her?” he echoed in a curiously strained voice.

“Why, yes,” Colin said with a lazy grin, recognizing the other man's suppressed laughter. “I do believe that is what they call it when a man decides to win a woman's affections.”

“Typically, when a vampire does it, it is called ‘wedded to the night,'” Lilith said dryly. “Or ‘eternally bound by blood and darkness.' Very dramatic and frightening.”

Colin's light mood vanished. It wouldn't be eternal, but he would take any time Savi had to offer him. And he wouldn't let thoughts of the future, his eventual loss, destroy his newfound hope.

It would last…but it couldn't be forever.

“Dramatic, perhaps,” he said quietly. “But my vampirism doesn't frighten her.” She only objected to the uncontrollable lust that went along with it—but he would find a way to overcome it, or bypass it.

Castleford tapped his helmet against the side of his thigh. “Nothing's likely to frighten her anymore.”

Lilith gave a mock shudder. “It does me. It's revolting.”

Sighing, Castleford straightened up from the door frame. “We shouldn't delay any longer before going to Auntie's. If this is something Savi wants, too, I'll make an effort to reexamine the Scrolls and speak with Michael. But I'm fairly certain in this, Colin: There's nothing.” He ran a hand through his short hair, then met Colin's gaze again. “
This
I'm asking as her brother: For her sake, don't make promises you can't keep. For now, if she allows your attention, then court her—but don't speak of the future unless you are certain of a solution.”

Lilith stepped forward and lifted her fingers to Colin's collar, adjusting the neckline of the black undershirt layered beneath. “The easiest way to destroy a human's soul is with false hope, whether fed by truth or lies,” she said quietly.

Astonished, Colin didn't move. But for Castleford and Sir Pup, Lilith rarely touched anyone with care. And though they'd established a close friendship in the past decade, he could count the number of times she'd done so to him: a distracted pat to his cheek when she'd been deciding whether to help Castleford despite her bargain with Lucifer, a careful examination of Colin's hands when he'd returned from Chaos, and now.

How many women had he been with? He hadn't mattered to them, nor they to him. He'd been grateful for each one, but very few had touched him.

He could count them as well. Too effortlessly for two centuries of living: Emily, Lilith, Selah, and Savi. One his sister, two his friends.

He wanted so much more from Savi.

“Don't serve the needs of those Below, Colin, no matter how deep the desire.” She dropped her hand back to her side and arched a dark eyebrow. “It's much more rewarding to be wicked while serving ourselves.”

The heavy weight settled on his chest again. In his determination to have Savi, he'd have told her anything, promised her everything. And he wouldn't have considered how damaging it would have been if he failed; he would have only thought of pleasing her in the present.

He'd have realized it too late.

When had he become so careless? Yet he'd been so from the moment he'd been teleported to Caelum, and with the woman whom he should have been taking the most care. Had his desire for her overwhelmed his sense so much—or was it the selfishness she'd accused him of?

His lungs too tight for speech, Colin simply nodded, then followed them out into the garage.

Their motorcycles flanked his car, and he watched as they strapped swords and other gear onto the bikes. In Sir Pup's absence, they had to carry their own weapons. Normal behavior for them—and for Colin, though he preferred to stow them in the car boot…but for Savi, who abhorred violence, what had the past eight months been like?

Why hadn't she moved into her own house? She could afford it, and she'd have avoided the risks living with Lilith and Hugh posed.

Yet she'd remained, and shot a wyrmwolf as steadily as if she'd been training with a gun for years. She should have been terrified…

She
had
been terrified. He'd felt it in the seconds before she'd raised her shields. And though she was smart enough to know better, though Castleford had obviously prepared the symbols for her protection, she hadn't fled.

His brow furrowed as he realized where his thoughts were leading, the conclusion he began to draw between her need for pain and her mental distance from her physical responses. “Why isn't anything likely to frighten her? And when it does, why is it difficult for her to run?”

Bent over the motorcycle, Castleford stilled for a moment, then thrust a sword into a scabbard; the bike skidded forward with the force of it. “Because I fucked up,” he said.

Lilith's head jerked around, and Colin thought the surprise on her face likely reflected his; Castleford seldom swore, and only when his anger was self-directed.

“And I taught her something she learned too well.”

There was a name for a man who sat in a parked car outside a café, watching through a window while the woman he obsessed over spoke with another man. Lilith would have called him a stalker. Savi might have said he was creepy.

Colin preferred besotted.

God, but she looked incredible. The window framed her perfectly; she sat at a tall cocktail table, her heels hooked on the rung of her chair. Supple boots hugged her calves, and the hem of her skirt allowed a tantalizing glimpse of smooth caramel at her knee.

He intended to kiss that spot, then taste every hidden bit of skin. Peel away the creamy wool sweater. Slide his hands up the exquisite length of her legs, hold her close.

And safe. She wouldn't have to run again.

A light rain began to fall, spattering against the windshield and side window. Colin eyed the sky in accusation. No moonlight spilled through the heavy gray mass above. A cloud cover would have been bloody brilliant midday; too late for it to be of any use to him now.

Lying on the sidewalk in front of the café, Sir Pup raised his head from his forepaws and looked toward the Jaguar. His jaws opened wide, his lips pulled back. The hellhound was laughing at him.

Colin grinned, showed his own fangs. “At least I'll not be soaked, pup.”

A burst of laughter came faintly through the car window, and Colin's gaze shifted to the suitor. His eyes narrowed. The sod was handsome, and obviously had brains enough to appreciate her humor—but if the bastard didn't fall on his knees and worship her as she deserved, or at least propose within a minute or two, Colin would kill him.

A tall, barrel-round man walked in front of the Jaguar, crossed the street toward the café with a quick glance into the car. Detective Preston.

The tap on the passenger window didn't surprise Colin, but Detective Taylor's appearance did. The once impeccably pressed woman was a hell of a mess. Instead of the sleek bob, her short auburn hair rioted around her head in thick, uneven curls; her countenance was drawn and tired, her skin pale but for the dark circles around her eyes. Already slender, petite, she must have lost half a stone in the past eight months.

Colin unlocked the door; Taylor slipped inside, wiping the rain from her face. The strong odor of cigarettes and coffee clung to her wrinkled jacket.

She turned to look at him. Her eyes closed, and she breathed, “Dammit.”

He could only summon half a smile. “Detective. I know appearances are often deceiving, but—”

Her mouth tightened. “Don't say anything. I hear it enough from Joe.”

Colin widened his smile, designed it to charm. Lifting her hand, he brought it to his lips before she could pull away or protest. “Detective Preston often remarks upon how beautiful I am? I shall have to thank him.”

“He went in to grab us something to eat while I talked to you,” she said absently, her gaze arrested on his mouth. Her fingers curled on his, and she blinked. “Jesus. Stop that. No vampire mojo.”

His brows rose, and he said evenly, “As I need your assistance in locating a demon, it would hardly benefit either of us if I used mojo. This is my natural allure.”

A breathy laugh escaped her, and she pulled her hand from his. “Thank God. Or whatever.” A wry expression flitted over her face; then her gaze flattened, and she observed him with cool professionalism. “Agent Milton gave very few details in her voice mail. And as she has made it clear that all vampire and demon activity doesn't fall within our jurisdiction, I'm not certain what you want from us.”

It was not just Lilith's lack of diplomacy; the need to conceal all otherworldly activity had forced her to use federal powers to take over any cases involving it before the local authorities could determine the truth about the abnormal nature of the crimes.

It was a means to a necessary end, but it didn't allow for smooth relations when they were needed. And the few who knew the truth—such as Taylor and Preston—were treated in an overbearing manner that they likely read as a not-so-subtle insult, suggesting a lack of trust or faith in their skills.

Frustration had Colin briefly clenching his teeth before he said, “Quite frankly, I'm not interested in the squabble over jurisdiction; I'll leave that to you and Agent Milton.
I
need your help. You have access to information at a different level than I do through SI.”

She regarded him without expression; she could have been Castleford's double. Colin fought the instant irritation that accompanied the realization. “The street level,” she said.

“Yes.”

Taylor was silent for a moment, then she looked past him and gestured with a lift of her chin. “Is that Savi?” Her eyes narrowed. “And the dog…the hellhound?”

His lips firmed. “Yes. I didn't realize you were acquainted with Miss Murray.” Not well enough to use her nickname.

“Not much face-to-face after the Feds grabbed the investigation last year. Primarily by e-mail after that. She has a lot of questions.” She glanced at Colin again, her gaze speculative. “And quite a few answers; she's more willing to share information than others are. Information that allows me to better perform my job, and protect my partner and myself—recognizing demons and Guardians, vampire strengths and weaknesses. All very, very useful.”

He bit back his smile; Taylor had apparently learned about the power of bargaining, as well. “I can supplement her answers.”

Taylor nodded. “I thought so. What do you need from us?”

Colin quickly described the identity theft, the vampires who'd been following him. “Miss Murray can track any recorded activity—police reports if the Navigators are involved, financial transactions—but it doesn't give us an accurate representation of their movements.”