Demon Moon (53 page)

“Give her to me, Colin,” Castleford said. His chest was bare, heaving. His gaze riveted on Colin's face; his psychic shields snapped up. “And look away from us until you control it—I can help her, but you
must let her go
.”

“I can't.” His body shuddered. His grip tightened and Savi's shrieks intensified.

Lilith sped into the room, Sir Pup at her heels. Her gaze dropped as Savi's back bowed, her vertebrae popping the length of her spine.

“Oh, motherfuck. Sir Pup, my sword,” she said, and launched herself at Savi.

Colin's fangs were in Lilith's neck less than a second later, but the shock of her blood prevented him from ripping her throat out. Sense returned.

He'd let go of Savi. Lilith had deliberately provoked his protective instincts, and now she lay beneath him, unresisting.

Castleford's soothing murmurs rose beside them.
Listen to me, Savi; don't fight it. You must concentrate
.

Her screams ebbed into panting, whistling breaths.

The calming words were effective on Colin, too. His body shook, and he slid his teeth from Lilith's skin, rose up on his knees. He didn't need to close the wounds; Michael's power swept across the room in a low, focused pulse.

His hand trembled as he helped her up. “God, Lilith. I'm sorry.”

“That's a good boy, you beautiful fucking idiot,” Lilith said, and slapped him sharply across his face before twining her arms around his shoulders—to support him or hold him in place. Probably both. Her tone gentled. “Her body's trying to shape-shift. Michael's keeping her brain from turning to mush, so don't distract him by making him heal me again. Hugh will talk her through the rest of it.”

And indeed, the convulsions had ceased—but her frame was misshapen, broken. Her feet had elongated, her shins and ankles fused at an angle almost lupine. She'd turned her face toward Castleford, but the visible side of her jaw was malformed, heavy.

“You've seen this before?” Some of his terror drained away.

Lilith's tight embrace loosened. “It happens sometimes with fledglings if they don't have a strong mental image of their forms to anchor themselves.”

Savi's shields had served as a block between her mind and body for over a decade. How would she know to reform it?

She wouldn't, Colin realized…but Castleford would. He'd mentored and trained novice Guardians for centuries.

“Think, Savi. Remember.” The other man's hand brushed over her face. Her hair had grown; Castleford lifted ebony strands from her eyes, from her cheek. Dark fur formed a patchwork over her arms, her back. “The first year at Stanford, your anatomy class—you came home and told me you were going to cut the rest of the term because you'd memorized the book in three days. You know where everything goes, where it belongs. You've got to put it back.”

Savi groaned—her
flesh
groaned as her legs pulled into a human form. But not hers; the skin was too pale, the bones too thick.

“That's good, Savi,” Castleford said, though the glance he gave her feet betrayed his concern. “Just like in the textbook—now remember the last time you bathed, the last time you soaped your legs. The texture, the shape.”

Her shivering increased. A high-pitched whine sounded from between her clenched teeth.

Castleford quickly said, “Your first kiss. You remember it perfectly; go back, Savi.”

The tortured noises faded. Behind him, Lilith breathed a sigh of relief as the line of Savi's chin smoothed into a contour unmistakably hers, though fragile, immature.

Michael's focus on Savi lessened; he looked away from the pair on the floor and signed,
Lilith, contact SI. I left the nosferatu paralyzed, but unsecured. I had no time to alert them before we teleported
.

Lilith released Colin, reached for the phone.

Colin crawled forward. Castleford was searching for something more personal, more intimate for Savi to cleave to. Her first kiss had likely been before he'd taught her to block the anxiety attacks. In the shower, she'd have had her shields up. In bed, she did until she used pain to get past them.

He did not want her to rebuild herself with memories of pain.

“Savi, love.” Her face turned toward Colin's whisper. Her eyes still shone red, though not as brightly. Her mouth and jaw were a young girl's. Colin grasped her hand. Her once-slim fingers had thickened, curled; the platinum band cut into her knuckle. “Go back to Caelum, by the fountain. My paintbrush on your palm. Do you feel it?”

She sucked in a harsh breath; her wrist cracked in his grip. Colin couldn't make himself look.

Castleford glanced at her hand, nodded.
More
, he signed.

Vaguely, Colin was aware that Michael vanished—that Lilith was arming herself, preparing to leave.

He pushed those distractions away. His fingertips trailed up her forearm, over the delicate veins and muscle. “The henna, here.” Her skin rippled and softened. “My lips, here.” He brushed his thumb across her mouth and watched in awe as it widened, sliding into the lovely, full shape he'd never taste enough. He continued, traced every inch, recalling her to his paintbrush or his touch—and to the pool reflecting her face, her hair. Her skin slowly cooled…and cooled, until he feared the contact might burn her.

Finally, her eyes cleared to a rich brown and locked with his. “I love you so bloody much,” she said. Exhaustion deepened it, but her voice was her own, her accent still horrid.

She kissed him before his relieved laughter died, and she threatened to make him lose all sense—until he felt the sharp press of her fangs against his lips. She grinned against his mouth, broke away and reached up to test their length.

He smiled for her. She was a vampire—a powerful, nosferatu-born vampire. She'd live forever.

And he'd lose her within days.

Savi hadn't known vampires
could
sleep during the night, but she must have done so; when she awoke, twilight had descended outside her apartment windows. Following her transformation, she'd slept the whole of the evening, and then throughout the day.

She sighed as she threw the blankets back. It was too much to hope that, like Colin, she'd be resistant to the sun and the daysleep. He'd have to occupy himself every day while she slept.

She stood up, and the floorboards screeched beneath her feet. She stumbled forward; the swish of her cotton pajamas roared as loud as a storm-tumbled ocean, her breath a monsoon. Paint, varnish, the month-old scents of spice and incense scorched her mouth and lungs.

Oh, god
. She bent over, covered her ears to the sandpapery scrape of her palms against the fragile cartilage. Now the wet pulsing through her veins, the beat of her heart.

Footsteps approached like planets crashing together, but in space it was silent, not here, not here.

“Shh,” Colin said, as if it were her instead of everything around them. “Just as you would use your shields, Savi—block it out.”

Block it out. She panted against his chest. His cologne clung to his shirt. It smelled wonderful, each note perfectly realized, some she hadn't scented before.

And his skin…god,
Colin's blood
.

Silk shredded under her fingers. Heat streaked from her mouth to her nipples, her belly, her sex; her fangs ached and she rubbed her tongue against them. She was so slick and wet and she could almost taste it in the air.

His palms cupped her jaw. “No, Savi.” His grip was gentle, immovable. “You can't. We can't.”

She tried to rise up, to kiss his neck, to bite that strong beautiful throat. “I need this, I need—” Blood and fucking.

But the urge died when she lifted her gaze to his face. “I know,” he said brokenly, and pressed his closed mouth to her open lips, a kiss flavored by mint and salt.

I can taste you
. It hovered on her tongue, until she realized why he'd stopped her from tasting him fully. Why he didn't drink from her.

“Oh, god.” Her hands ran over his face, his hair. Memory of the aborted shape-shifting ripped through her; even now, her body felt oily, her joints and muscles loose beneath her skin.

And Colin hadn't seen himself for two hundred years
.

She couldn't risk feeding him even a day or two a month; he couldn't feed her at all. Both tainted. They'd both have to take blood elsewhere, and she'd never be able to pretend that the sex didn't go along with it. “What are we going to do?”

He had no answer.

“Look, Sir Pup, you're a daddy now,” Lilith said when they came downstairs to the kitchen. The hellhound hopped in place, grinning hugely with his three heads.

Savi laughed despite herself and covered her nose; Sir Pup stank of sulphur and rot. She'd never noticed it before—had never noticed
any
smell from him.

“Is that his psychic scent?” Her palm muffled her words, but still they reverberated in her ears. She focused. Blocked it out.

Colin shook his head. “Wyrmwolf. Quite a few got through last night.”

“And we had quite the hunt. Unfortunately, we didn't catch Ariphale.” Lilith's voice darkened. She stood at the counter wearing leather and boots, food spread haphazardly in front of her as if she was stopping for a quick refuel before heading back out.

“He escaped?”

Lilith swallowed hard, her mouth a tight line. “And killed Sam and Vanessa on his way out. Not that Washington cares.”

Two vampires. Savi's stomach churned.

Colin's brows drew together, his tone sharp. “Do
not
think that; it wasn't an exchange. It wasn't in trade.”

“No, it was just a massive fuckup by Michael,” Lilith said.

Hugh entered the room—to Savi's surprise, as his movements were almost soundless. “Though an understandable one. Even the Doyen doesn't make a habit of imprisoning nosferatu instead of slaying them, surviving attacks from dragons, and handling a shape-shifting gone awry—all the while holding a brain intact.”

Lilith's lips quirked. “Then by me, for not killing Ariphale when I wanted to, and just lying to the assholes in the Pentagon.”

“That, I agree with,” Hugh said. He turned to Savi. “Are you well?”

How could she answer that? She was strong, immortal—and her heart ached so badly she wanted to tear it from her chest.

She
could
tear it from her chest; it was a startling realization.

“As well as can be expected. I can defeat a nosferatu on a plane, but not three vampires at a time. My odds sucked.”

“Particularly as they were starving vampires,” Colin said easily, though it seemed difficult for him to manage his light tone. “Dalkiel must've prevented their feeding whilst awaiting our return.”

“Well, we should really have known better than to run to the basement, especially after he saw me take you downstairs last week. He
knew
I'd go there if anything threatened—and we rushed right on down. Stupid of me.”

“Of us.”

“Stupid of the golden boy; Michael should've killed Dalkiel when he was there.” Lilith stole an amused glance at Hugh. “Even with the dragon bite.”

“Forgive me for disagreeing,” Colin said, “but I'm pleased he made Savi his priority.”

“So am I,” Savi said.

Hugh smiled; his blue gaze was steady on hers, assessing. “Have you eaten?”

“No.”

“Do you need mine? You can consider it a wedding gift.”

Of course Hugh wouldn't have missed the henna, the matching rings. Was he trying to offer them more time before they were forced to make a decision?

“He's rather dry, but edible,” Colin said when she hesitated.

“No. It'd be creepy if I became—” Aroused…with her brother. She let her shudder speak for her. “I'm not really hungry yet, anyway.”

Hugh sighed, but gave no other indication that she'd lied. “There's blood in the refrigerator; only use it if you must, Savi.”

“You'll not use it at all,” Colin said in a near growl. “Shaky,
stupid
, tired. You'll risk your brain? For what?”

She blinked. She hadn't intended to drink any, but—“One day. It'll give me time to think.”

“To think—? Oh, bloody fucking hell, you'll have me dreaming of the impossible.” Colin turned, stalked into the living room. She watched him, his head tilting back as he stared at the painting of Caelum, as he scraped his hand over the surface. When he returned to the kitchen, he looked at her—and relented with a short laugh. “One day. Think
hard
, love; without you, I'll surely become everything I despise. A melancholy maniac, lurking around Castleford in hopes I'll learn the most effective brooding techniques, donning a hideous friar's robe in effigy.”