Demon Moon (44 page)

“Do you see Paul or Varney?” He met Fia's gaze, gestured for her to replace the gun she held with her sword.
Once we're through the door, go around low and check the left side
, he signed.

“No, but the gazebo roof is blocking most of its interior. It's about fifteen feet in diameter, I'd guess. The sides are open.”

“If we need to take immediate cover, which direction should we go?”

“There's a big concrete planter on the left side of the pond. About four feet high. It would block any shots from the gazebo.”

“Have you alerted SI?”

“Yes. They're headed downtown, but I haven't given them a location yet—not until you need it. Or until I have to. Lilith is…angry,”
she said, and Colin could almost see her grimace.

“Bloody hell.” Best to do this quickly, then. “Hold her off. We're going out.”

Colin thrust open the door and stalked to the edge of the pond, armed with his gun and a sword. Behind him, he heard a vampire's cry as Fia struck one down in his hiding place, heard Darkwolf's and Gina's running steps as they fell into position behind the concrete box and took aim over its bulk. Their eyes widened with horror.

Fia's psychic distress swamped his mind before she caught herself, cut it off.

Paul and Varney couldn't have run; Dalkiel had taken their feet. Their blood formed a dark pool on the gazebo floor. They were still alive, their wounds already closed and their shields strong—likely for Fia's sake rather than their own—but they desperately needed to feed.

Colin flicked a glance at Osterberg before returning his attention to Dalkiel. “As fond as I am of fangs—and as much as I despise pinkie rings—you were much more pleasant to look upon in the café.”

Much
more. Colin had thought he'd known demonic, but Lilith's form had never been so inhuman. Though the wings and curving obsidian horns were familiar, crimson scales glittered over Dalkiel's body instead of skin, his knees articulated in the reverse, and his feet ended in cloven hooves.

The stuff of nightmares—but Colin's reality had been worse.

“I shall adopt that form again when it suits,” Dalkiel said. His voice slithered over Colin's skin, and the vampire had to repress a shiver. The demon's glowing red eyes lit on Fia; his enjoyment in her pain was no doubt as great as it had been when he'd amputated Paul's feet. “And I shall make improvements.”

Colin snorted humorlessly. “Don't be absurd. Shall we bargain, then?”

The demon's attention was riveted on him; pleasure pulled his lips into a thin smile. In Colin's ear, he heard the tiny catch of Savi's breath.

Do not fear, sweet
. He'd no intention of making a bargain. One who did, and failed to meet its terms, risked an eternal torment: his face frozen in Hell and his body dangling—continually devoured—in Chaos.

Colin couldn't imagine any gain worth that risk.

“What have you to offer that I cannot take?”

The crippled vampires sat propped against the left wall of the gazebo. Colin held the sword lightly in his right hand as he began circling the pond counterclockwise; his gun—the weapon Dalkiel feared the least—he kept between them. “Your life,” he said simply. “I'll not kill you…tonight…if you return those two to me without further harm done to them.”

He knew Dalkiel only played with him when the demon did not laugh at Colin's assumption that he
could
kill him. A demon hunter, luring the vampire prey close by letting it think it could defend itself.

Colin hated being prey.

“Two lives for one? Hardly an equal bargain,” Dalkiel said. The demon had to turn his back to Paul and Varney to keep Colin within his sight; in his arrogance, he wouldn't feel threatened by them—but nor would he turn away from Colin to further mutilate them.

“You equate your worth with a vampire's? I once heard a halfling demon say that a vampire's life was nothing to her; what must you be, that two are worth more?”

“The inequality is theirs, not mine.” Dalkiel studied him through radiant slitted eyes. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest; not a defensive gesture, but one that stated he'd no reason to prepare himself. His hands had transformed into razor-tipped claws. “We cannot bargain with these terms, vampire. I believe I shall kill them, after all.”

He'd never had any doubt of the demon's intention. Colin stopped halfway around the pool, giving himself a view of those inside the gazebo, as well as Fia, Darkwolf, and Gina. “Why bother to kill them if they are nothing? They hardly seem worth the effort.”

“Their
lives
are not, but their deaths?” With a smile, Dalkiel uncrossed his arms, reached out and clamped his hand over the top of Osterberg's head. The vampire's skull cracked. He shrieked, but Dalkiel had no mercy: he did not finish it. He held the vampire there, his head half-crushed. “Pain and fear. The most powerful currency in the world.”

Christ. Colin preferred to take Osterberg alive. He raised his pistol, held it on the demon's face. After he'd sufficiently weakened and distracted Dalkiel, and given a signal, Fia and the others would rush in to retrieve Paul and Varney—but as soon as he fired, the Guardians would hear it, swoop down on them.

Osterberg screamed again.

Bloody fucking hell. They'd hear that, as well. Colin squeezed the trigger. Dalkiel's head rocked back with the impact, but he remained standing. Blood poured from his missing eye.

The demon laughed softly, his lack of concern serving better than mockery. “You threaten me with a
gun
? Do you truly think these vampires will follow you when they see what I can do to them? How I easily erase liabilities?” He glanced toward Darkwolf with his one burning eye, and another sickening crunch sounded from Osterberg's skull. “And any who resist me or expose me, I'll consider a liability.”

“Not just a gun,” Colin said coldly. “Hellhound venom. Let him go.”

Surprise flickered over Dalkiel's face.

Colin fired again; a hole appeared over the demon's right eyebrow. He'd missed, but it'd have to do—the first eye had begun to regenerate.

Colin traded his pistol for his second sword; Dalkiel staggered backward, blinking. The two bullets had been covered with a minuscule amount of venom—the demon was at normal vampire speed, most likely, or just above that. Colin's weapons switch must have looked instantaneous. “Let him go; you'll need both hands to fight.”

Dalkiel glanced over at Osterberg swaying in his grip, and tore off the vampire's head.

“Get them,” Colin growled, and cleared the pond in a single jump, running after the demon when he turned and fled. Footsteps pounded behind him, splashing—then Fia's soothing murmurs.

Colin sped through the gazebo, across the rooftop, his gaze fixed on the demon's back. He'd catch him within a second or—

Dalkiel's wings unfurled, and he leapt into the air.

Fucking coward. But shouting the insult after the demon only earned him Savi's muttered,
“Ouch. My ear.”

“Sorry, love.” He watched Dalkiel's form until the demon disappeared amidst the grid of skyscrapers downtown, then swore again and swiped his blade through the air. He'd
had
him.

A subtle psychic pressure had him tipping his face back; overhead, a phalanx of fledglings arrowed silently after Dalkiel.

“Were those Guardians I just saw?”
She sounded slightly awed.

“Yes.” He turned back to the gazebo; Michael was there, likely healing the amputations. “Did you see him run from me?”

“Better yet: I recorded it. You can't really see him until he comes out, but the sound is there; it'll make lovely propaganda. Though it'll also appear as if he ran from the others, not from you.”

“That's quite all right, so long as
you
appreciate how fearsome I was.” The tension of battle released, his hands began to shake with need. He was starving. If he didn't go now, he'd begin sucking the blood from his shirtsleeves. “Can you drive with a standard transmission?”

“Yes. Kind of. Just don't ask me to go up Telegraph Hill.”

She'd likely lurch all the way home and burn out the clutch. No matter. “Take Sir Pup, and I'll meet with you at our house.” He could be there long before she could drive the distance, even taking the time to speak with Michael.

“Oh, thank god. I'll leave now.”

“So keen?” His body roared to life with pleasure, with anticipation.

“Lilith's on her way here.”

“Leave quickly, then.” They'd face the consequences of this together…tomorrow. “Keep your radio on until you are in the car and have engaged the spell's protection.”

Stepping into the gazebo, he met Michael's eyes. The Guardian looked the ancient warrior with his ridiculous toga and impressive black wings, but he'd been the Healer that night.

Both Paul and Varney were standing. In response to Colin's observation that hazard pay might be necessary for Polidori's employees, Varney danced a light-footed jig. Fia slanted Colin a grateful look before wrapping her arms around Paul's neck.

Satisfied that nothing more needed to be done, Colin continued on through, heading for the stairs. “You've a mess to clean up in here,” he told the Doyen.

“Of your creation,” Michael said. “Do not impede us again.”

“Impede?” With a disbelieving laugh, Colin stopped and swung around. “I've served your fledglings a venom-weakened demon on a silver platter.”

“We cannot protect you if you hinder us.”

“You can't? Or you won't?”

Savi must have known Michael would hear her through Colin's earpiece; Michael's mouth tightened, as if her question reminded him that he could not interfere with Savi's will—and she had been the one to hinder them.

“Cannot.”

“As comforting as it is to know you won't abandon us, you'll do well to learn to protect the community despite us. For it's become quite clear that we lack—” Colin paused, searching for the word.

“Underworld
izzat,” Savi supplied.
“Demons wouldn't care for personal honor, but vampires' lives must be given value in a currency the demons understand.”

Colin nodded. “Yes,
izzat
—and that lack is more detrimental than the lack of protection. We are neither human nor a threat; but we must be one, or the demons and nosferatu will continue to kill us with impunity.”

“Demons and nosferatu will never assign any value to a vampire.”

Colin shrugged. “Then the honor will be for ourselves, so that we know we do not have to accede to the demands of pain and fear. That is how you can best help us; by allowing us to be a threat, and assisting us if we fail.” His jaw firmed as he studied the Guardian's expressionless features. “When did you last ascribe value to a vampire? Do you slay this demon for killing us, or simply because he is a demon?”

Michael sighed. “There is no difference.”

Perhaps not to him. Colin had made this clear to the vampires, but now he had to explain it to the Doyen as well? Lilith and Hugh understood it. The vampires would follow the Rules, but they'd bow neither to the demons nor the Guardians.

“If there is no difference, then you should begin amending those Scrolls. A redefinition of ‘vampire' seems in order.”

The house blazed with lights when Savi pulled into the drive. Most of her concentration had been on making it there without stalling the engine at each stop and shift of the gears, but now that she'd arrived, stark reality hit her with gut-clenching fists.

Colin would feed from her. And give her—
something
—in return.

There was no going back from this. There was nothing impulsive about her decision, and it wasn't a means to a simple end or to satisfy her curiosity.

And there would be no simple end; only a painful one. This could only make it worse.

Colin waited on the porch, speaking into his cell. He'd showered and changed, his hair dark and wet beneath the lights. He closed the phone and tucked it into the pocket of his cream linen pants when she turned off the car.

It was probably a good thing she liked pain, because she wasn't going to run from this.

Though the indefinable quality that had been missing from his portraits made her certain it was he, she allowed Sir Pup to exit the car first. Her legs were unsteady as she joined them, her pulse racing. He watched her with unconcealed hunger.

“Was it—” She had to pause, clear her throat. Why was she so nervous? He'd fed from her before, and she'd survived. “Was it their blood you had to wash away, or yours?”

“Theirs. Of course.”

She gave a little headshake. “Of course.”

His lips quirked, and he held out his hand. “Go on home, pup.” His fingers clasped over hers when she slid her palm in his. “I've just spoken with Lilith; Dalkiel evaded the fledglings.”

“You're joking.”

The frustration in his gaze answered her before he did. “No.” He released her hand to set the alarm and activate the spell.

God. She could just imagine what Lilith had said to him.

Savi automatically bent to remove her shoes, and braced herself against the wall as she unlaced her boots and yanked off the left. The marble was cool and hard beneath her bare foot. “It's not your fault, you know.” She dropped her right boot to the floor.

“I rarely blame myself for anything; I'll not begin with this.”