Текст книги "Dark Magic"

Автор книги: Christine Feehan

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

Carter pushed forward. “Did Peter Sanders know the secrets behind your magic, Savannah?” There was accusation in his voice, belligerence. “No other member of your crew does. Which could make Sanders’s death rather convenient, if you have something to hide.”

In spite of Gregori’s restraining arm, Savannah lifted her head to face the reporter. Her blue eyes smoldered dangerously. “How dare you? Peter Sanders was my friend.”

Carter stepped even closer. “You have many secrets, don’t you, Savannah, that have nothing to do with your magic show?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Gregori’s silver eyes flashed. His mind is protected somehow. I could push past his barrier, but it is complicated, and he would know, and so would whoever has helped him achieve this. This one is very dangerous to you,mon amour. Do not cross swords with him. Let us leave this place. I will pay a visit to Wade Carter at a later date.

He doesn’t scare me.

He should. He is one of the human butchers, and he has targeted you. That damn mist you dissolve into. Julian was always uncomfortable with that.

“I think you know very well what I mean. Peter Sanders found out just how some of your illusions were performed, and you killed him.”

Savannah shook her head. “I feel sorry for you, Mr. Carter. It must be a horrible way to make a living, accusing people of crimes for a sensational story. You can’t have too many friends.” She ducked into the limousine and the safety of its shadowy interior.

“You haven’t seen the last of me,” Carter snarled, leaning down to try to catch a last glimpse of her.

Gregori stepped close, his imposing frame exuding power. He smiled at the reporter, a flash of gleaming white teeth. The silver eyes reflected clearly, vividly, in great detail, Carter’s own image. But it was an image of death, of a torn and bloody body falling like a rag doll to the ground. Gregori held the man in his deadly gaze. “Nor have you seen the last of me, Mr. Carter,” he said softly, a black-velvet menace.

Wade Carter was suddenly weak with fear. He crossed himself, his right hand finding the silver cross at his neck. Low, taunting laughter echoed in his head. He couldn’t seem to get it out, not even when the tall, elegant man slid gracefully into the seat beside Savannah. Carter shook his head repeatedly, trying to dislodge the laughter, the threat, from his mind.

He glared after the fading limo, then clapped both hands against his ears. He had no proof that Savannah Dubrinsky was a vampire, just a gut feeling. The things she did on stage were impossible. No other magician had accomplished the tricks she had perfected. She was so young; how could she have learned to do what no one else in her field could do? He had followed her entire tour, trying unsuccessfully to bribe those working for her. No one admitted to knowing a thing.

Every time he had tried to break in to see her props, to study what she did, something had gone wrong. It was eerie. He didn’t believe in coincidence. He might have struck out a time or two, but not on every painstaking attempt. He was a professional; his people were professionals. No road crew or security people were that good. Something smelled, and he meant to get to the bottom of it. Maybe the cops believed the current story, but Peter Sanders’s death frankly stunk. All the truck drivers and loaders had the exact same story. No two witnesses ever told precisely the same pat story. Details always differed. And it couldn’t be a conspiracy; those questioned didn’t all know one another. So it had to be something else. Like memories planted in people’s minds—something vampires could do.

Savannah suddenly had a husband no one had known about. And he wasn’t just any man, someone who could have been overlooked. Savannah’s husband was dark, dangerous. A killer. Wade Carter was certain he was a vampire. Positive. He sat down on the steps, his heart beating like thunder. He had actually met the real thing. And the real thing scared the hell out of him. He would have to wire the others to come. What a break, and he was the one to find them. Or him. He didn’t honestly know if Savannah Dubrinsky was a vampire, but his research said it was a possibility. He was going to be famous. Very, very famous. And rich. Very, very rich.

“He knows about us,” Gregori said softly. “That reporter is no reporter. He is one of them.”

“Who are they?” Savannah pushed at her hair, suddenly weary and close to tears. Peter. It was all her fault. She never should have allowed him close to her, never put him in danger. She had been so naive.Her world had always been one of boundless love. Her parents protected her, sheltered her. Her wolf—no, her lifemate—had shown her nothing but love during her growing years. None of the ugliness of their lives, none of the dangers, had ever been allowed to touch her.

She glanced at Gregori, the impassive expression, the lines etched deeply into his handsome face. His eyes were so cold and aloof. He had seen far too much horror in his lifetime, knew everything that could happen. He had seen it with his own eyes. “Who are they, Gregori?” she asked again.

His pale eyes moved over her face and brushed her soft mouth, leaving a warmth behind. “There is a dangerous group of humans who believe in vampires and practically make a career out of hunting them down. Despite their obsession with the undead—and over the centuries they have often formed secret societies to pursue their depraved passions—they do not recognize or acknowledge the difference between Carpathians and vampires. To them, we are the same and must be exterminated. Perhaps it is just as well that they do not comprehend they are dealing with two separate entities.”

“What drives these people? Have they proof that the vampire exists?” It was nearly impossible to believe; Carpathian renegade hunters were so careful to destroy all evidence of the betrayers.

“Nothing concrete. But the lasting legends and stories and myths keep these humans wondering. And some of the more clever vampires have spent time in society before we were able to hunt them.”

“True,” Savannah said. She knew her history. In the Middle Ages and just after, the undead had had a field day, living openly among the humans they preyed on. It had taken a huge collective effort to wipe them out before they destroyed any chance at a peaceful co-existence between the two species, Carpathian and human. After the most famous Carpathian vampire hunters, such as Gabriel and Lucien, disappeared, it was Mikhail and Gregori and Aidan and other ancients like them who had hunted down those who turned vampire. Together they had protected their remaining women and had taken measures to ensure that Carpathians and vampires remained figments of human imagination, the stuff of legends, novels, and movies. Their campaign to wipe out all memory, all certain knowledge of their kind had been largely successful, but evidently lapses had occurred.

“A few years ago, before you were born, a society of humans, a secret organization, was formed to investigate and exterminate vampires—the kind of vampires written about in dime novels. We believed these humans posed little real threat to us. None of us expected a repeat of the vampire hunts that swept Europe centuries ago.”

There was no sorrow in his expressionless voice, nothing to betray that he was remembering finding his mother’s body, but Savannah knew that he was, knew it as surely as if he had confessed it. “The first time they surfaced to do any damage, they murdered your Aunt Noelle. They would have killed another woman, but your own mother, still human, had the courage to save her. The secret society then targeted your mother and father, Raven and the Prince of our people. Once more we thought we stamped out the threat, but they struck again a few years later. They killed several of our people and a few humans. Noelle’s son was murdered, and your Uncle Jacques was tortured to the point of madness. Again Raven was attacked, when she was pregnant with you, and she almost lost you.”

Savannah reached out to lay a hand on his arm, but she was otherwise careful to keep her sympathy to herself, not wanting him to realize how easily she had slipped into his mind and taken his memories into her heart. She was becoming quite adept at reading him.

Gregori picked up her hand, marveling that anything that small could bring him such pleasure. Just the simple act of touching his arm, her fingers curling around his wrist, could melt his insides, bring him a measure of comfort, of security. It amazed him. Where certain memories always triggered him to go blank inside, to insulate himself so he could face them without flinching, without the beast roaring in rage, that little hand now tempered his fire and fury. He absently traced a safeguard pattern into her palm, hardly aware he was doing so. Even his subconscious wanted to ensure that she was always safe.

The touch of Gregori’s fingers sent darts of fire racing through Savannah’s bloodstream. Her teeth bit nervously at her lower lip. “You were saying about this reporter... what could he know for certain?” she prompted gently. She didn’t want him to stop holding her hand or to stop making that strange, soothing design in the middle of her palm. She wanted the terrible memories holding him in their grip to let him go, to give him back to her. Savannah smiled up at him, her blue eyes clear and steady.

“He does not know anything for certain.” A slightly wicked glint appeared in his eyes. “At least not about you.”

“What did you do?” she asked softly. “Gregori, you don’t have to protect me by calling attention to yourself.

We’re a team, aren’t we? Whatever happens to you, happens to me.”

He looked away from her, out the window. His fingers tightened possessively around her hand. “That may not be so in every case,” he answered carefully.

“What are you saying, Gregori? We are lifemates. One can’t survive without the other. I may not know everything about lifemates, but I know that.”

“That is true, ma petite,ordinarily. And ordinarily, a hunter who finds his lifemate ceases to hunt. Yet Aidan Savage must continue because he is in a land where there are few hunters. Hunters are in more danger from the undead than most Carpathians, so to keep from putting his lifemate in jeopardy, the hunter usually allows other males to take over the task. Aidan Savage does not have that luxury. “ Nor do I.

“And you? Do you intend to quit hunting?” she asked softly, already knowing the answer, already in his mind.

“You know I cannot.” He said it gently, his voice soft.

“I am your lifemate, Gregori.” Her voice trembled just a bit. “You may have to hunt because you’re the very best we have, and our people need you. But if something were to happen to you, I would follow you.”

Gregori’s thumb feathered back and forth across her inner wrist, lingering on her pulse. It was rapid. “It would be dishonest of me to allow you to think I have such a noble motivation. I have hunted for so many centuries, I do not know any other way of life.” His face was impassive, but inside he was holding his breath.

A small smile flirted with her perfect mouth. “If it pleases you to think so of yourself, Gregori, that’s fine with me. You are arrogant enough for several males; you don’t need me to feed you compliments. But perhaps I might be able to do something about teaching you another way of life. In the meantime, I suggest you educate me in the ways of vampires, since it looks as if we’ll be hunting them. And you might also remember you are the greatest healer among us. That is unchallenged by anyone.”

“I am the greatest killer, also unchallenged.” He tried to give her truth again. She touched his hard mouth. “I will hunt with you then, lifemate.”

His heart slammed against his ribs. Her smile was mysterious, secretive, and so beautiful, it broke his heart. “What is behind this smile, bébé”His hand caught and spanned her throat, his thumb brushing her lips in a gentle caress. “What do you know that I do not?” His mind slipped into hers, a sensuous thrust, the ultimate intimacy, not unlike the way his tongue sometimes dueled with her—or his body took possession of hers.

She was familiar with his touch in her mind. She knew he tried to keep its invasiveness to a minimum. He allowed her to set the boundaries and never pushed beyond any barrier she erected, even though he could do so easily. Both of them needed the intimate union of their minds merging, Savannah as much as Gregori. And her newfound knowledge of him was secure behind a miniature barricade she had hastily erected. Wide-eyed and innocent, she looked at him.

His thumb pressed into her lower lip, half mesmerized by the satin perfection of it. “You will never hunt vampires, ma chérie,not ever. And if I were ever to catch you attempting such a thing, there would be hell to pay.”

She didn’t look scared. Rather, amusement crept into the deep blue of her eyes. “Surely you aren’t threatening me, Dark One,bogey man of the Carpathians.” She laughed softly, a sound that feathered down his spine and somehow took away the sting of that centuries-old designation. “Stop looking so serious, Gregori—you haven’t lost your reputation entirely. Everyone else is still terrified of the big bad wolf.”

His eyebrows shot up. She was teasing him. About his dark reputation, of all things. Her gaze was clear and sparkling, hinting at mischief. Savannah wasn’t railing against her fate, of being tied to him, a monster. She was too filled with life and laughter, with joy. He felt it in her mind, in her heart, in her very soul. He wished it could somehow rub off on him, make him a more compatible lifemate for her. “You are the only one who needs to worry about the big bad wolf, mon amour,” he threatened with mock gravity.

She leaned over to stare up into his eyes, a smile curving her soft mouth. “You cracked a joke, Gregori. We’re making progress. Why, we’re practically friends.”

“Practically?” he echoed gently.

“Getting there fast,” she told him firmly with her chin up, daring him to contradict her.

“Can one be friends with a monster?” He said casually, as if he were simply musing out loud, but there was a shadow in his silver eyes.

“I was being childish, Gregori, when I made such an accusation,” she said softly, her eyes meeting his squarely. “I wanted my own life, with no one to answer to. It was thoughtless and wrong of me. And I was afraid. But I’m not now, and I ask your forgiveness—”

“Do not!” he ordered sharply. “ Mon Dieu, chérie,do not ever apologize to me for your fear. I do not deserve it, and we both know it.” His thumb pressed into the heated satin of her lip. “And do not try to be so brave. I am your lifemate. You cannot hide from me something as powerful as fear.”

“Trepidation,” she corrected, nibbling at the pad of his thumb.

“Is there a difference?” His pale eyes had warmed to molten mercury. Just that fast, her body went liquid in answer.

“You know very well there is.” She laughed again, and the sound traveled down from his heart to pool in his groin, a heavy, familiar ache. “Slight, perhaps, but very important.”

“I will try to make you happy, Savannah,” he promised gravely.

Her fingers went up to brush at the thick mane of hair falling around his face. “You are my lifemate, Gregori. I have no doubt you will make me happy.”

He had to look away, out the window into the night. She was so good, with so much beauty in her, while he was so dark, his goodness drained into the ground with the blood of all the lives he had taken while he waited for her. But now, faced with the reality of her, Gregori could not bear her to witness the blackness within him, the hideous stain across his soul.

For beyond his killing and law-breaking, he had committed the gravest crime of all. And he deserved the ultimate penalty, the forfeit of his life. He had deliberately tampered with nature. He knew he was powerful enough, knew his knowledge exceeded the boundaries of Carpathian law. He had taken Savannah’s free will, manipulated the chemistry between them so that she would believe he was her true lifemate. And so she was with him—less than a quarter of a century of innocence pitted against his thousand years of hard study. Perhaps that washis punishment, he mused—being sentenced to an eternity of knowing Savannah could never really love him, never really accept his black soul. That she would be ever near yet so far away.

If she ever found out the extent of his manipulation, she would despise him. Yet he could never, ever, allow her to leave him. Not if mortals and immortals alike were to be safe. His jaw hardened, and he stared out the window, turning slightly away from her. His mind firmly left hers, not wanting to alert her to the grave crime he had committed. He could bear torture and centuries of isolation, he could bear his own great sins, but he could not endure her loathing him. Unconsciously, he took her hand in his and tightened his grip until it threatened to crush her fragile bones.

Savannahglanced at him, let out a breath slowly to keep from wincing, and kept her hand passively in his. He thought his mind closed to her. Didn’t believe she was his true lifemate. He truly believed he had manipulated the outcome of their joining unfairly and that somewhere another Carpathian male with the chemistry to match hers might be waiting. Though he had offered her free access to his mind, had himself given her the power, to meld her mind with his, both as her wolf and as her healer before she was born, he likely didn’t think a woman, a fledgling, and one who was not his true lifemate, could possibly have the skill to read his innermost secrets. But Savannah could. And completing the ancient ritual of lifemates had only strengthened the bond.

Chapter Eight

Peter Sanders’s ashes were buried on the grounds of a mansion Gregori had built for Savannah while waiting for her to come to San Francisco. Savannah’s crew and Detective David Johnson arrived for the memorial service, but they were able to keep the actual location, well outside the city, a secret from the majority of the press. Only Wade Carter showed up, having tailed one of the road crew members to do so, but he wasn’t allowed inside the gates. His cameraman had refused to come; something about Savannah Dubrinsky’s husband scared the hell out of him. That left Wade with the unwieldy camera around his neck and a very uneasy feeling. The grounds were fenced, and wolves ran loose within the compound. With Gregori’s supporting arm around her, Savannah spoke quietly to her crew, thanked them for their service, and announced her retirement. They were each presented with an envelope containing a sizable bonus as they left. Gregori spent a few minutes talking with Johnson. The police detective, satisfied there was no more information to be gained, left the residence.

Savannah lingered at the memorial site, staring down at the beautiful marble plaque Gregori had designed for Peter. The tears in her eyes were in part for her sorrow at losing such a good friend, and in part for Gregori’s thoughtfulness. He had kept Peter close to them, and he had made this day as comforting as it could have been under the circumstances.

She was turning to go back toward the house when the wolves lifted their heads and howled. Gregori whirled around and caught her arm, dragging her close to him. “I believe it is Aidan Savage,” he said softly. “We must go inside, where Carter has no chance to catch sight of Aidan. We do not want to lead assassins to Aidan’s door.” He hissed a command to his wolves and hurried Savannah toward the mansion.

“I thought you had this place safeguarded,” she said.

“With your crew and the police coming to the service, it was too dangerous. Someone could have wandered away from the site and been harmed.” His hand brushed her hair tenderly. “I know you are tired. You should lie down for another hour or so. It was too soon for our rising.”

She leaned against his hard strength and read the remorse in his mind. “This was never your fault, Gregori, never. I never blamed you for Peter.”

His hand caressed her hair. “I know you did not.” His attention was on the stirring of the wind, heralding one of their kind. “But if I had not been overwhelmed with physical feelings—lust,” he condemned himself, “I would have known the vampire was stalking you that night. I had released Julian from his responsibility; you were in my care.”

“Do you have to be so hard on yourself?” she asked with a sigh. “You are not responsible for all Carpathians, nor all humans. If anyone is to blame, it is me for insisting on my freedom. I was thoughtless, not realizing what I was doing to you or even to the unattached males of our kind. I didn’t once give a thought to what you would suffer while I was running from myself and our life together. I certainly did not think Peter would be in danger. I should have. I should have known I would be hunted.”

His arm swept around her, a tight circle of comfort. “You did nothing wrong, chérie,” he said fiercely. He was moving her steadily toward the protection of the house.

Rainbow prisms suddenly danced and sparkled through the trees. Gregori shook his head as the light began to shimmer into a substantial shape. “You always were a show-off, Aidan,” he greeted his visitor, his voice as expressionless as always. “Let us go inside.”

Savannah, touching his mind, felt his affection for the other man. She had heard of Aidan Savage, a hunter of the vampire, but he had left their homeland half a century before her birth to establish residency in the United States. He was one of the few of their kind built like Gregori—tall, like all Carpathian males, but much stockier, with defined, sinewy muscles. Instead of the dark hair of their race, however, he had a long, thick, tawny mane, and his eyes were a peculiar amber flashing with brilliant, glittering gold.

This man’s identical twin had guarded her these last five years. Aidan was an imposing figure, so his twin must be also, yet not once had Savannah seen him. Nor had she detected his presence. How had Julian kept himself hidden, with the confidence all males of their race exuded, the power and authority that came with centuries of the hunt, with the acquisition of knowledge?

Gregori’s arm moved from around her waist to circle her neck, a male gesture of ownership. Savannah laughed to herself. Carpathian men were not far from the trees.

I caught that,mon amour. Gregori’s soft voice brushed at her mind, a low caress that curled warmth in her stomach. He sounded close to teasing, but she noticed he didn’t drop his arm from around her neck.

“Aidan, we did not expect you this early. The sun has not yet gone from the sky, and it is uncomfortable to travel in the evening light,” he said aloud, once they were indoors.

“I must apologize for missing the service,” Aidan replied softly. “But I could not risk it. Still, I wanted you to know you were not entirely alone in this country,” he added to Savannah.

“Savannah, this is Aidan Savage. He is loyal to your father and a good friend to me,” Gregori introduced them. “Aidan, my lifemate, Savannah.”

“You look like your mother,” Aidan observed.

“Thank you. I take that as a great compliment,” she said, suddenly wishing her mother was there. She missed Raven and Mikhail. “You honor me, to come at this time of the evening to share my grief. I know it’s difficult for all of us, but I had to choose a time to accommodate Peter’s human friends.”

“There is danger for you nearby, Aidan,” Gregori warned. “I would have you and your family safe from these butchers. They are human, of the same secret society that hunted in our lands several years ago.”

A shadow crossed Aidan’s face. He had humans in his family to protect, as well as his lifemate. The amber eyes glowed a deep gold. “The reporter.” A soft growl of menace rumbled deep in his throat.

Gregori nodded. “I will find out what I can this night from Mr. Wade Carter. I intend to take Savannah and lead him and whoever his cohorts are far from this city, so that there is no danger to you or yours.” They were in the house, free from prying eyes, but Gregori could feel the reporter’s evil presence permeating his territory. “I sent a clear warning to you, Aidan.” There was a hint of censure in his words, although his voice was soft.

There was a hard edge to Aidan’s mouth. “I received your warning. But this is my city, Gregori, and my family. I take care of my own.”

Savannah rolled her eyes. “You could just beat on your chests, you know. It probably works just as well.”

You will show some respect,Gregori ordered.

Savannah burst out laughing, then reached up to caress his shadowed jaw. “Keep hoping, my love, and perhaps someday someone will obey you.”

Aidan’s mouth twitched, the golden eyes sliding over Gregori in amusement. “She inherited something besides her mother’s good looks, did she not?”

Gregori sighed heavily. “She is impossible.”

Aidan laughed, ignoring the warning flash from Gregori’s pale eyes. “I believe they all are.”

Savannah ducked out from under Gregori’s arm and found an overstuffed chair to curl up in. “Of course we’re impossible. It’s the only way to stay sane.”

“I would have brought Alexandria to meet you, but Gregori’s warning dictated prudence.” Aidan sounded smug, as if he had been able to lay down the law to his woman when Gregori was unable to do so.

Savannah flashed an impish grin up at the man. “What did you do, leave her sleeping while you ran off to play hero? I’ll just bet she has a thing or two to say to you when you wake her.”

Aidan had the grace to look sheepish. Then he turned to Gregori. “Your lifemate is a mean little thing, healer. I do not envy you.”

Savannah laughed, unrepentant. “He’s crazy about me. Don’t let him fool you.”

“I believe you,” Aidan agreed.

“Do not encourage her in her rebellion,” Gregori tried to sound severe, but she was turning him inside out. She was everything to him, even with her silliness. Where did she get her outrageous sense of humor? How could she ever be happy with someone who hadn’t laughed in centuries? She melted his insides. Melted him. He was careful to keep his face expressionless. It was bad enough that Savannah knew he was practically wrapped around her little finger. Aidan didn’t need to know it, too.

“Seriously, Gregori, there is no need for you to lead these butchers from my city. Together we can deal with them,” Aidan said. “Julian is somewhere close. I feel him, though he will not answer my call.”

“Julian is close to turning. You would not want his help. The more kills, the more the danger increases. You know that. Julian will work out his destiny, Aidan. And if it becomes necessary to hunt him, if he does not come to you before the change, you must call me. Julian has grown very powerful. Very dangerous. Do not take chances because you are his brother. One of Mikhail’s brothers turned, and when justice sought him, he tried, like any other vampire, to destroy everyone. He would not have spared even Mikhail.” Gregori did not add he had been the one to bring justice to Mikhail’s brother. It had been such a difficult deed, he became determined never to get close to another as he had to Mikhail and his family. Gregori glanced at Savannah, found her incredible blue eyes on him, and somehow the painful memory was eased. “Julian has always been a dangerous and knowledgeable man,” Gregori concluded.

“Like you, healer.” Aidan couldn’t help but make the accusation. He hated the talk of his twin turning vampire.

Gregori didn’t flinch. “Exactly like me. That is the point. You will call for my aid should there be the need.” He was staring directly into the other man’s golden gaze. His voice was low and compelling, beautiful and haunting.

Aidan looked away from those silver eyes. Eyes that could see into a man’s soul. “I will, Gregori. I know what you say is true, although I do not want to believe Julian could turn.”

“Anyone can turn, Aidan. Any one of us without a lifemate.” Gregori glided across the room because he could not stand the physical distance Savannah had put between them. Her eyes were once again shadowed and haunted, the memorial service filling her with sadness and guilt. He slipped behind her chair, his hands coming down on her shoulders to begin a gentle massage. He needed the contact as much as she did.

Aidan hid his shock. He had known Gregori for centuries, had learned healing arts from him, had learned to stalk and kill the vampire from him. Nothing ever touched Gregori. Nothing. No one. But those cold silver eyes, as they swept over Savannah, were molten mercury, the man’s posture clearly protective, possessive, and the touch on her shoulders was frankly tender. Are you all right,chérie? Perhaps you should lie down for a while.

Savannah smiled wanly up at him. She was looking far more pale than he liked. He had hunted that evening despite the early hour, taking enough blood to sustain both of them. But she had refused to feed, as if denying her hunger were some kind of penance for her sins. His hand went to the nape of her neck and massaged gently. Her hunger beat at him, and he knew Aidan could feel it, too.

The Carpathian male was watching him, without obvious censure but with a puzzled expression all the same in his deep golden gaze. Gregori felt it like a knife: he wasn’t taking care of his lifemate the way he should.

Don’t be silly, Gregori.Savannah’s soft voice swirled in his mind. You take great care of me. Who cares what anyone else thinks?

“So, healer,” Aidan said, “have you made up your mind where you wish to lead these butchers?”

Savannah stirred, twisting to look back at Gregori, her blue eyes suddenly alive. “Do you have somewhere you particularly want to go?”

“You have a place in mind?” he asked. He knew it was a mistake to look into her eyes. He could drown in her eyes. It was like falling over the edge of a cliff.