Текст книги "Dark Magic"

Автор книги: Christine Feehan

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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

Gregori sighed again. “Try not to sound so happy about it. There are limits to our protection. And you endanger Savannah.” For that alone I could rip out your heart.The words seemed to shimmer in the air, unspoken but heard.

Gary looked startled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think of that. I guess she would be a target if she’s seen with me.” He was obviously upset. “I feel terrible that I didn’t even consider it.”

“Keep your voice down,” Gregori reminded him softly. “We need to know more of those involved in this society than we do. Do you have a list of names?”

“Yeah, of the ones who worked in the lab. The legitimate lab, I mean. Not the sick ones you saw tonight.” Gary pushed a hand through his hair in agitation. “I want to call the hospital, make certain that girl’s all right. You know, I still can’t believe they were going to cut her up alive.”

“I told you,” Gregori reiterated, “the vampire’s only source of entertainment is the misery of those around him. He will deliberately corrupt those he believes are the least likely to succumb to his powers. It is a game to him. You are a good man, Gary, but you are no match for a vampire. He could make you kill your own mother. Anything abhorrent to you, that is what he would force you to do.”

“I don’t want you to erase my memories,” Gary pleaded. “I’ve waited my whole life for this moment. I know you say I can’t tell the difference between a vampire and a hunter, but I think you’re wrong. For instance, you scare the hell out of me. You look dangerous, you act dangerous. You don’t even try to hide it. You are a very scary man, but you feel like a friend. I would trust you with my life. I’m betting that something evil would appear pleasing but feel foul.”

Gregori’s glittering silver eyes settled on his face, a glimmer of warmth in them, a hint of humor. “You are already trusting me with your life.”

Savannah leaned into Gregori. “I’m so proud of you. You’re getting this humor thing down.” She looked across the table at Gary, laughter dancing in her enormous blue eyes. “He has a little trouble with the concept of humor.”

Gary found himself laughing with her. “I can believe that.”

“Watch it, kid. There is no need to be disrespectful. Do not make the mistake of believing you can get away with it the way this one does.” Gregori tugged at Savannah’s long ebony hair. It hung to her waist, a fall of blue-black silk that moved with a life of its own, that tempted, invited men to touch it.

“So, what are you going to do about me?” Gary ventured painfully.

Savannah resisted the urge to touch him sympathetically. She was naturally demonstrative, naturally affectionate. When someone was upset, she needed to make things better. Gregori inhibited her normal tendency to comfort.

I cannot change what I am, mapetite, he whispered softly in her mind, a slow, soothing black-velvet drawl. His voice wrapped her up and touched her with tenderness. I can only promise to keep you safe and to try to make you as happy as I can to make up for my deficiencies.

I didn’t say you had deficiencies,she returned softly, her voice a caress, fingers trailing over the back of his neck, down the muscles of his back.

Need slammed into him, low and wicked. His skin crawled with fire. His silver eyes slid slowly, possessively over her, touching her body with tongues of flame. Touching. Caressing. His urgent need exploded in him like a volcano. In his head a dull roar began. Abruptly he wished Gary gone. The cafe gone. The world gone. He wasn’t altogether certain he could wait until he was home with her. The riverbank was suddenly looking very inviting.

Gary raised his hand for the check. There was a deep regret in his eyes. He was going back to his normal life. It wasn’t that it was such a bad life, but he felt connected with these people. He had been isolated all his life. Always out of sync with others. The one who always marched to the different drummer. “So, I’m ready. Go ahead. Just promise me you’ll visit once in a while.”

Gregori’s hand, moving on Savannah’s neck, suddenly stilled. He inhaled sharply. Savannah? I feel it, too.

Gregori leaned across the table to stare into Gary’s eyes. You will do as Savannah tells you without question, without thought. Instant obedience.“Gary, I want you to go with Savannah now. We are hunted. She will shield the two of you from all eyes, and I will lead the predators in another direction. Savannah, we will walk together into the shadows. Can you manage to keep the two of you from sight without my assistance? I will need to maintain an image of the two of you with me for some distance, and I would like to provide an unexpected storm. The clouds will be of some aid to you.”

“No problem,” she answered without hesitation. Nothing in her face betrayed her sudden apprehension. This was Gregori’s way of life, not hers. He was the master.

Gregori placed money on the table and smiled into the waiter’s eyes. You will assist us in leaving this place without incident.His silver eyes held the waiter captive for a brief moment. When he released the man from the hypnotic thrall, the waiter waved the others over, and they formed a loose semi-circle between the table and the rest of the occupants of the patio.

Gregori added a generous tip and nodded to Savannah and Gary to leave. Savannah moved gracefully, going directly across the darkened street, heading for the shadows of the square. She was very much aware of Gregori still close to her, his body protective. For a moment she thought he brushed her shoulder with his hand, the sensation was so real, but when she turned her head, he was several feet behind.

Go, mapetite, take Gary to the house. Do not allow the neighbors to see either of you. And place the safeguards carefully.

What about you?

There is no safeguard I cannot unravel. Go now.This time, there was no mistake. He was four feet away, already turning away from her, but she felt his mouth burning possessively on hers, lingering for just a moment, his tongue tracing the curve of her lip. She couldn’t believe he could make her want him, burn for him, when he was going off into the night alone to fight their enemies.

The night has always been mine, Savannah. Do not waste your time worrying about me.The soft, mesmerizing voice exuded confidence. Gregori strode away, walking along the edge of the square, and at his side appeared to be Gary and Savannah, moving at the same casual pace. Leisurely. Tourists out sightseeing.

Clouds began boiling across the sky, fast moving and dark, bringing an unexpected fine mist, steam rising in the heat of the night. Savannah concentrated on her task. It was relatively easy to make herself invisible from those she wished to avoid, but she had never attempted to shield another from prying eyes. Pulling her mind firmly from the issue of Gregori’s safety, from the sure knowledge that he would have to kill yet another time, she caught Gary by the shoulder and turned him toward the line of shops leading up the square. “Stay to the inside and keep walking no matter what, even if someone looks as if they are going to bump right into you.”

Gary didn’t ask any questions, but she could feel his heart pounding in the night air. Fog rose off the river, a thick soup of vapor that drifted with the wind into the square and moved quickly to cover the streets. People laughed loudly to conceal their sudden nervousness. Along with the blanket of fog came an apprehension, a sense of danger. Things moved in the mist, evil things, creatures of the night.

Gregori continued the illusion of Savannah and Gary sauntering with him along the riverbank. They appeared to move as a unit, meandering along, talking quietly to one another. Gregori wanted to put distance between the innocent humans and the illusion he was creating. He could feel those following him, knew they saw only what he wanted them to see. They were ghouls. Macabre puppets sent to do their master’s bidding. A slow hiss escaped as he felt the demon inside him lift its head and unsheathe its claws, fighting for freedom.

His body stretched, muscles rippling, welcoming the familiar power surging through him. He laughed softly, a low taunt sent out as a challenge. His mind touched Savannah’s, assuring himself that she was nearly to the house. She was doing a good job of concealing herself and the human from all along the streets. Savannah was a mere child, a fledgling, with little training in their ways. He was proud of her, weaving in and out of the crush of tourists pouring out of Preservation Hall. It was a difficult task, and she accomplished it like a professional.

He allowed the two illusions he had created to shimmer over the water, then slowly fade and dissolve into the fog. Only he continued across the expanse of water toward the Algiers landing. He made certain the undead could see his challenge. The dark compulsion of the kill was on them, the vampire’s minions. A slow, humorless smile deepened the cruel edge to his mouth. The vampire, seeking Savannah, had had no idea he would be grappling with Gregori, the Dark One, here in New Orleans.

Chapter Twelve

Julian Savage was a great hunter, perhaps second only to himself. If Julian had kept a residence here and had not destroyed the master vampire, it could only mean the vampire left whenever Julian returned to town. The master vampire obviously sacrificed others of his kind without a qualm. Vampires often ran together for strength against the hunter, but there was no bond of loyalty to hold them together.

Gregori waited among the trees along the riverbank. He could hear the dull, zombie-like growls of the two attackers as they made their way through the water after him. Their boat was powered by an engine that sputtered and whined loudly, but they made no attempt to hide their presence. It was typical of the ghoul, the unswerving dedication to carry out the vampire’s orders. They had no other purpose, no other life. They were ghouls, servants, puppets, once human but now needing the vampire’s tainted blood to continue existing, sleeping in sewers and shallow graves to escape the deadly sun. Vampires usually killed the victims they fed on, but sometimes, when they needed servants to perform tasks for them in daylight, they shared their tainted blood, binding the victims to them, robbing them of their mind and soul.

But these puppets were still very dangerous. They were enormously strong, cunning, and difficult for the ordinary Carpathian male to kill. Nearly impossible for humans. He winced, imagining Savannah trapped by these two abominations. She was a fledgling, incapable of killing these creatures. Maybe he should have killed them from a distance—Gregori had long ago learned every art of killing in his world and that of the humans—but he wanted to ensure that no others were caught in their battle. And he wanted the vampire who had sent them to understand he was picking up the gauntlet. Gregori. The Dark One.

The boat had jammed in some tree roots thrusting up out of the dark, murky waters. Gregori made no attempt to hide from the zombies. He waited, his body relaxed, the fog curling around his legs. The light mist fanned his face and spread like a fine blanket across the night.

The two puppets awkwardly climbed from the boat, splashing water in all directions. Gregori inhaled, felt the sudden disturbance in the air. The vampire thought his trap was sprung. All Carpathians could detect one another when they were within a certain range. The vampire must have known the moment Savannah had entered his domain, but he had not detected Gregori’s presence. Gregori walked among his own people unseen when he wished it. Cloaking himself had become as natural to him as breathing. The vampire, who had run from Julian, clearly thought he was dealing with a lesser Carpathian. A novice.

The two huge ghouls were clumsily making their way up the embankment. Twice the red-haired man fell into the water, sending droplets spraying while he tried to regain his footing. The two zombies separated, moving in from either side.

Know this, evil one.Gregori sent out the strong mental call. He felt the sudden hesitation in the air as the vampire became aware that the heavy fog, the unusual mist, and the boiling clouds were not a natural phenomenon. The vampire held back, worried. The elements were perfectly recreated and few could produce such a work of art. You have issued your challenge to me, and I have accepted. Come to me.Gregori’s voice was low and mesmerizing. Beautiful. There was no other like it. And none could resist when he chose to wield its deadly power.

The vampire fought the compulsion, the hypnotic order, but his frame wavered out in the fog above the water. His face was a twisted, evil mask, eyes glowing red, receding gums revealing jagged, sharp teeth. Talons curled on his hands, razor-like and wicked looking. He hissed venom, frightened and furious that one could call such as he forth against his will. There was nowhere to hide from the voice; it whispered, and he was forced to emerge fully into solid form, unable to continue an illusion.

For centuries he had been a bloated spider, weaving his evil web, keeping a low profile and running when it was necessary. “Gregori, I cannot believe one such as you would choose to hunt so meager an opponent as myself,” he said, fawning and simpering as if they were old friends.

“Are you calling yourself Morrison these days?” Gregori’s pale eyes shifted to the zombie on his left, inching closer, his every moment carefully orchestrated by the vampire. “When we were young, you were Rafael. You disappeared some four hundred years ago.”

The jagged teeth, stained brown from centuries of consuming human, adrenaline-based blood, flashed in a grotesque parody of a smile. “I went to ground for nearly a century. When I rose, the world was much changed. You were the Prince’s sanctioned killer, feeding on our kind. I left our homeland, driven out by your fever, by your own bloodlust. This is my sanctuary now, my home. I have not asked for more. Why do you come here uninvited to plague me?”

Gregori began to focus on the air itself, to build the charge he needed, gathering it into a ball of crackling, fiery energy just out of sight in the cauldron of clouds. “You do not own this city, Rafael, nor can you dictate to me where I can and cannot go. You put your servants on Savannah’s trail. You knew she was my lifemate, yet you deliberately sought her. I can think of no other reason than you wished your centuries of depravity over. You were seeking the dark justice of our people.”

The first ghoul lunged at him, bellowing loudly, his movements lumbering. Gregori simply vanished, one sharp nail raking the tainted neck, severing the jugular. The ghoul howled and spun in circles, the spray of red droplets shining black in the night. The noise continued, high-pitched and shrill, echoing across the water, startling wildlife and fowl. Snakes, disturbed by the commotion, plopped from the trees into the water. Far off, in the bayou, alligators slithered down the embankment to slide silently into the murky depths. The screams continued as the vampire’s puppet spun this way and that, looking for his intended victim.

Gregori watched dispassionately from where he stood a few yards from the pathetic creature. “Finish him off, Rafael. You created him; you can allow him the dignity of death.”

The vampire was feasting his eyes on the spray of blood, saliva dripping down his chin in anticipation. Casually he reached out and caught some of the gushing blood in his palm and licked at it greedily. The creature crawled to him, begging and pleading, imploring the vampire to spare his life. Rafael kicked the creature away from him. The body, still thrashing hopelessly, landed in deeper water and began to sink.

Swearing to himself, Gregori lifted his hand and directed the ball of fire into the man’s body. A ghoul could rise again and again and be used by its creator if not properly disposed of. This one would terrify those who lived along the river if Gregori didn’t cremate him, rendering him useless to the vampire.

Rafael leapt back, horrified at the sight of the orange ball of flame that passed directly through his work of art and instantly exploded the body into a burning conflagration. He hissed, his head undulating like that of the reptile he was.

Gregori regarded him coolly. “I was mistaken. You are not the master. You are one of his expendable minions, a lower slave to fawn at his knees and curry favor. You cannot be Morrison.”

The vampire’s eyes glowed red hot, and his lips drew back in a snarl. “You think to ridicule me? You believe the one called Morrison is more powerful than me? I made Morrison. He is myservant.”

Gregori laughed softly. “Do not attempt to masquerade as one of the ancients, Rafael. As I recall, even as a student you put no effort into learning the necessary guards to keep you safe.” He tipped his head to one side. “This was your idea, not Morrison’s, correct? You provoked me by sending that ridiculous excuse for a vampire, Roberto, after Savannah, and you put Wade Carter on her trail. The one they call Morrison now is too smart for that. He would want no part of challenging me.”

The vampire’s eyes glowed with hot fury. His hiss was venomous, his head undulating faster, an enthralling rhythm used to hypnotize a victim. “Morrison is a fool. He is no master.” It was difficult to understand the words with the vampire growling and hissing as he said them. Saliva, tainted with his corrupt blood, spewed from his mouth and dribbled down his chin onto the front of his once elegant, faded white silk shirt.

Gregori shook his head slowly. “You wanted me to hunt Morrison. You were using Savannah to draw me out to rid you of your master.”

The second ghoul struck from behind, creeping in a stealthy manner up to Gregori, then swinging a huge tree branch at the back of his head. At the last possible second, Gregori spun around, his arm shattering the thick limb, so that splinters and twigs showered down to the muddy banks of the river. He continued on with his smooth motion, a powerful ballet dancer, fluid and strong, his claws ripping out the exposed throat, nearly decapitating the vampire’s servant with his casual strength.

The vampire erupted in a howl of rage that carried like thunder through the thick fog. The mist was dense, the tendrils of fog winding tighter and tighter around legs and waists, moving higher to trail in a loose coil around their chests. It seemed almost alive, living and breathing like a crouching beast, gaining strength as it moved.

Gregori smiled pleasantly at the vampire, taking care to step far away from the body now flopping helplessly in the mud. “You are like a peacock, Rafael, raising your feathers and strutting. You must have had centuries to build such a hatred against Morrison.” His voice was beautiful, seeping into the vampire’s body, turning the strength, built on the deaths of so many others, to water. That voice whispered of power. Real power. Invincible. Merciless. Relentless. “Morrison is the one who allowed you to survive the hunters, sending you from the city. It has been the way he has survived the hunters, leaving when they arrive in the vicinity he occupies.”

“Running,” Rafael said contemptuously. “He runs even when we are strong. We should own this city. Together we should drive off and kill any hunter who dares to come here. But he runs like the rabbit he is. I despise his weakness.”

Gregori pointed to the thrashing ghoul, and a bolt of lightning slammed from the cloud to the ground, driving through the very heart of the puppet and leaving behind only blackened, useless ashes.

“You think you are so powerful,” Rafael snickered. “I have killed so many, you are nothing. Nothing compared to one such as me.”

Gregori’s silver eyes glittered, pale and cold in the black night. Red flames flickered through the silver. He seemed to grow in power and stature. “I am the wind heralding death, the instrument of justice sent by our Prince to carry out the sentence pronounced on you by our people for your crimes against mortals and immortals alike.” His voice was purity, beauty, the tones painful to the vampire, like spikes being driven through his head. Yet he had no choice; unwillingly he moved closer, needing to hear the sound of such purity and beauty again.

As the vampire took an involuntary step forward, something tightened around his calves, his thighs, then reached higher to coil around his chest, squeezing slowly. The pressure was steady, relentless. In horror, the vampire looked down to see the tails of fog moving, alive, like a huge, thick python, sliding in an ever-tightening ring to imprison his body. “Fight me!” Rafael screamed, spraying blood and saliva into the mud and water. “You are afraid to fight me.”

“I am justice,” Gregori said softly, his voice implacable in its resolve. “There can be no fight, no battle, as there can be only one outcome. Mental or physical bout, or simply a match of our wits, there can be only one end. I am justice. That is all.”

A rush of wind, and the vampire never saw the Dark One move. The speed was so incredible, the vampire could not follow the blur of motion. But the vampire felt the impact. Hard. The jolt shook his entire body. He stood there, locked in the strange fog’s embrace, looking down at the hunter’s outstretched hand. Lying in the palm was his own pulsating heart. The vampire threw back his head and howled in rage and horror. The black empty void that was his long-lost soul was gone, rising with his foul stench into the night air like smoke. His teeth snapped and gnashed at the impassive hunter.

Gregori stood his ground, his mind carefully blank. This was his life. His reason for existing. He was the dark justice necessary for his people to survive, to continue their existence in secrecy. He stood there in the night, utterly, completely alone.

Gregori, I am with you always. You are never alone. Look for me in your heart, in your mind, in your very soul.

Look at your hero now. See what I really am. I kill without thought. Without effort. Without remorse. Without mercy. I am the monster you named me, and I am without equal. Someday I will pay the ultimate price.

Savannah’s soft laughter whispered over his skin. It was a gentle, cleansing breeze drifting through his mind. And who is stronger than my lifemate? No one can kill you.

You think death is the ultimate price? No, Savannah. Someday you will know what I am, and you will look at me in horror and revulsion. When that day comes, I will cease to exist.Gregori watched the vampire begin to fall. He moved then to complete the distasteful task of ensuring that the nosferatu could not rise again. Fiery sparks rained from the sky, the size of golf balls, striking the vampire, coating him in flames. On the muddy bank, at a distance from the burning body, Gregori incinerated the evil one’s heart.

It is done, lifemate. Come home to me.Savannah’s voice was low and compelling, soft, seductive, not in the least concerned with his insistence that she see that he was a killer. That he would always be a killer. This is where you belong. Not alone, never alone. Can’t you feel me reaching for you? Feel me, Gregori. Feel me reaching for you. Needing you.

He could feel it, in his mind, in his heart. Her voice touched him in some secret, deep place he kept locked away even from himself. She was everything beautiful in the world, and, God help them both, he could not bring himself to give her up.

I need you, Gregori.The whisper came again. This time there was a new urgency in it. She swamped him with her desire, with rising heat and sudden fear that he would leave her alone. Gregori? Answer me. Don’t leave me. I couldn’t bear it if you did.

There is no chance of such a thing, mapetite. I am coming home.It was the only home he had ever known, the only sanctuary he had ever had: Savannah. She whispered to him, soft and sensuous, a dream of his for so long that she was a part of his soul. She whispered to him of unconditional, total acceptance. He launched himself skyward, his body dissolving into the mist, to become part of the moving fog he had manufactured.

Yet a kind of fury seethed in him, raged, consumed him. He had created this impossible situation with Savannah by his tampering with nature. He knew it could not continue. He was more than unstable in this state. She had to know the truth. What had he been thinking? That he could hide it from her and the rest of the Carpathian people for centuries? She was becoming stronger every day. She needed the closeness of a mind meld with him, and he could do no other than allow it.

Gregori had been so certain he could keep part of himself away from her for his own selfish purposes, but her happiness was now of the utmost importance to him. She needed to know the truth, that he was not her true lifemate. He would clean up the society of human butchers, hunt the master vampire, and then choose to meet the dawn. He had no choice. Savannah deserved to be complete.

Scanning automatically some distance from the house, Gregori was already aware of Gary’s presence in one of the upstairs bedrooms. The man was under Savannah’s hypnotic suggestion to sleep. Gregori could tell she had secured him for the night, but he reinforced the command with one of his own. His safeguards were deadly. If Gary woke before they rose and came looking for them out of curiosity, he would die. He reached through the layers of sleep and penetrated the man’s mind. You will remain as you are until I awaken you. If something goes wrong and you awaken early, you will not try to find us. You would die. I would be unable to save you.That was not strictly true—he might be able to protect the human—but he wanted to impress the danger into Gary’s subconscious mind. Anyone would be curious about where they might be sleeping, and Gary more than most.

The heavy white fog nearly concealed the little house. He paused to examine Savannah’s safeguards, carefully working each one backward until he had unraveled them and it was safe to enter the house. Mist streamed inside and collected in the entryway until he was once more real and solid. The house was warm and welcoming, bright and somehow beckoning. The sheets were gone from the furniture, and a fire was dying down in the screened hearth so that red embers danced low and threw shadows on the far wall.

Gregori moved immediately to the spiral staircase. He could feel her, knew unerringly the exact spot where she waited. He didn’t need to scan for Savannah; his body would always find her, his mind would always know her location. He went down the stairs slowly, dreading to face her.

The basement was completely transformed. Candles were everywhere, flickering on all levels, lighting the darkened interior of the room. Shadows intertwined intimately from every corner of the room. A variety of herbs were crushed, some lit, filling the air with the scent of woods and flowers. A huge, old-fashioned bathtub stood in the center of the room, wide and deep, with clawed feet. Water shimmered invitingly, steam rising from the surface.

Savannah came to him instantly, her face lit up with some emotion he dared not name. She was in a man’s silk shirt and nothing else. The buttons were open so that the edges gaped to reveal her high, full breasts, and narrow rib cage. Another step and her tiny waist and flat stomach, the triangle of tight ebony curls, showed for an intriguing moment before the long tails of the shirt brushed back into place. Her long hair cascaded loose and moved around her like living, breathing silk. With every step she took, he caught glimpses of satin skin.

At once the dull roar started in his head. Heat exploded through his blood, and his body tightened with alarming urgency. Every good and noble intention seemed to go up in flames. She smiled up at him, her slender arms sliding around his neck. “I’m so glad you’re home,” she whispered softly, her mouth finding the pulse in his throat. He could feel the heat of her body, her soft breasts crushed against him.

Gregori closed his eyes, summoned his iron will, and shackled her wrists in an unbreakable grip. He dragged her arms down and held her away from his raging body. “No, Savannah, I cannot keep up this deception any longer. I cannot.”

Her long lashes veiled her blue-violet eyes for a moment, concealing the secrets locked in their depths. “You can’t deceive me, Gregori. It is impossible. You of all Carpathians should know that.” She twisted her wrists, a small feminine movement that accomplished her release instantly.

Gregori examined her skin for bruises, afraid that in his desperation he had used far too much physical strength. Savannah ignored him, her hands going to the buttons of his shirt. “If you wish to discuss this matter with me, fine, but maintaining the heat in this tub is taking energy I would rather spend otherwise.” The soft amusement in her voice was as effective as her fingertips brushing the bare skin of his chest. She pushed the shirt from his broad shoulders and allowed it to float to the floor.

“Savannah.” Her name was a groan for mercy. “You have to listen to me this time. I will never find the strength to make this confession again.”

“Hmm,” she mused, clearly distracted. Her fingers were working on the buttons of his trousers. “Of course I’ll listen, but I want you in the bath. Do it for me, Gregori, after all the trouble I went to for you.”

Gregori closed his eyes against the flames licking along his skin. His body raged at him, fiercely aroused. Her hands whispered over his hips as she slipped the trousers down his legs, her fingernails lightly raking his thighs. He stepped out of them, all too aware that he could not hide the demands of his body from her.

Savannah smiled that infuriating, secret smile of hers and took his hand to lead him to the tub. He stepped in and sank into the steaming waters. The sensation of heat over his skin increased his sensitivity to pleasure. Savannah stood behind him, her hands loosening the leather thong at the nape of his neck. The light, lingering touch of her hands in his hair was sending waves of fire dancing across his skin.