Dark Magic (Dark Series - book 4)

by Christine Feehan

  Once within the compound he waved a hand to dispense with the safeguards, freeing Savannah from her invisible prison. She was sitting, her knees drawn up to her chest, her chin resting on top of her knees. Her large blue eyes fastened on the stream of smoke as he approached her. Gregori took shape at her feet, his tall, masculine frame looming over her.

  She stood up slowly, her enormous eyes never leaving his face. It was Savannah who closed the inches separating them, who circled his waist with her slender arms. She laid her head against his chest, over the steady beating of his heart. “I was so afraid for you, Gregori.” There were tears in her voice, trails on her face. “Never leave me alone like that again. It’s better to be with you, even if I’m in danger.” Her hands were moving over him, slipping under his shirt to explore his skin to assure herself he was unharmed. “I could feel how much pain you were in, how the poison he used did so much damage.”

  Her hands touched his throat. Stroked his thick hair. She touched him everywhere. She had to touch him. She couldn’t help herself. She found each raw wound Carter’s knife had made. Her breath caught in her throat, and she lowered her head to gently soothe each cut with healing saliva.

  Gregori caught both her arms and set her a few inches away from him. “Look at me,

  ma chйrie.

  Really look at me. See me for what I am.” He gave her a slight shake. “Really look at me, Savannah.”

  Her blue-violet eyes searched his pale ones. “What do you think I see, lifemate? You are not the monster I named you. Not the monster you named yourself. You are a great Carpathian, a great healer. You are my other half.” Her eyes flashed at him. “Don’t think you’re going to get away with this nonsense you pulled, leaving me trapped to wait alone within these walls. Never again. I mean it, Gregori. From now on, I go with you.”

  His hand bunched her hair behind her head tightly. He dragged her closer. “Never into danger. Never.” He lowered his head to find her mouth, to claim what was his. His heart was bursting in his chest. Her eyes had been clear—shadowed with worry, perhaps—but free of fear. He held her head pinned perfectly still while his mouth moved over hers, while he devoured her sweetness and made his demands. Savannah held nothing back, accepting his domination, returning his kiss with the same hunger he was communicating to her. He gathered her into his arms, crushing her body to his. “Never, Savannah. Never will I allow you to be in danger.”

  “How do you think I feel about you?” she demanded. “Look into my mind, see what I had to go through while you dealt with the poison.” She touched his wounds with gentle fingers. “When he was doing this to you.”

  “The poison would have consumed you, Savannah, had you been injected with it. I relayed the elements of the toxin to Aidan. He will ensure that those in our homeland are aware of this new danger. We can develop an antidote with what we now know.” His hands were moving up and down her back, over her hips, cupping her firm bottom, pressing her close. His body was aching and full, and her caressing hands only inflamed him more.

  “It could have been lethal for all you knew, Gregori,” she said. “You had no idea what was in that poison.” She pulled at his clothing, tearing his shirt open to get at his chest, inspecting every inch of him, tasting his skin, the offensive wounds Carter had left behind.

  “I am a healer, Savannah. I can neutralize poison.” Her hands were inflaming him, pouring fire into his body.

  She pushed at his trousers anxiously, her palm sliding around his heavy fullness. The beast in his nature, already so close to the surface, broke free and took her to the floor, ripping the clothes from her body as he did so.

  He pinned her down, one knee shoving hard between her legs to give him access.

  But it was Gregori’s silver eyes that captured and held her gaze. It was Gregori who caught her hips in gentle hands and Gregori who tested her readiness with his probing fingers. “You are mine, Savannah. Only mine,” he said softly as he surged forward, filling her. He wanted to tell her he loved her, but he couldn’t say the words, so he said them with his body. Again and again he buried himself deep within her. Hard and fast. Slow and tender. He took his time, wanting it to be forever, hiding his face so that she couldn’t see the unexpected moisture in his eyes.

  Her body was made for his. Tight. Hot. Silken. Her skin was satin, her mouth hungry. He wanted her to take away the long, endless centuries, the emptiness. He wanted her to fill that emotionless void in his soul. That black empty spot, utterly bleak and hopeless. And she did. Somehow, with a miracle of total, unconditional acceptance, she did. She gave herself freely, without reservation, accepting his domination, his body taking hers.

  He felt her ripple with pleasure again and again, with white heat, velvet gripping him tightly, finally taking him over the edge to soaring into space with her. She clutched him, her nails digging into his back, her mouth pressed against his shoulder, her small cry of satisfaction muffled against the heavy muscles of his chest.

  Gregori held her tightly, nearly crushing her. He still did not believe she was actually with him. He couldn’t believe she could possibly accept him. He had killed so many times, broken their laws. Felt no remorse. Felt nothing at all. She was so compassionate. So young. So filled with beauty and life. He buried his face against her neck. “You must feed,

  bйbй”

  he reminded her in a neutral voice.

  Her stomach lurched. She had been with him, in his mind, when he had fed on the reporter. Blood was a necessity; she accepted that. She even accepted that Wade Carter had to die to preserve their race. But she didn’t want his blood. Her tongue touched her lower lip carefully, her heart pounding. Very cautiously, she moved, and immediately she felt the hardness of the marble-tiled floor. She hadn’t noticed it before; in fact, it had enhanced their lovemaking, allowing Gregori to drive deeply into her. Now she felt bruised and sore, her hips aching. “This is uncomfortable, Gregori,” she ventured.

  He rose with one fluid movement and took her with him, cradling her in his arms. “I am sorry,

  ma petite.

  I should have taken more care with you.”

  She touched his jaw with gentle fingers. “Promise me you will never leave me like that again. Next time let me go with you.”

  Her eyes were eloquent, pleading, so much so that he had to look away. “Do not ask me for what I cannot give you. I would give you the moon if you asked,

  chйrie,

  but I cannot allow you to place yourself in danger. Not for any reason. Not even to help me.”

  Her slender arms wrapped around his neck. Her body pressed tightly against his. “I don’t know if I can survive that again,” she said softly into his throat. “I was so terrified for you.”

  “Your hunger beats at me. I want you to feed.”

  “I can’t,” she admitted reluctantly, fearful of his reaction. “That man...”

  He was silent, carrying her down the hall to one of the bedrooms. “Yes, you can, and you will because I wish it.” He lowered her to the bed.

  She stared up into his pale eyes, eyes that held her captive, commanded her, even as they roved possessively over her body. He cupped one breast, filling his palm with her softness, his thumb feathering across the rosy tip, bringing it to a hard peak. “Gregori.” Her voice was a soft plea.

  “You will do as I wish, Savannah.” He was implacable. His dark features were set, almost cruel.

  She tried to look away from him, but he caught her chin in his hand and held her still. “Now, Savannah. Feed now. You did not do so this morning, and we have the night ahead of us. You will feed.”

  She swallowed hard, her stomach rebelling. “I can’t, Gregori. He’s dead. I just can’t.”

  “You mean I killed him.” He said the words softly.

  “No, I know he was a threat to our people. I know he tried to kill you. I know there was no choice. But I can’t.” She tried to wiggle away from him. She suddenly wanted her clothes on, self-conscious of her nak
edness.

  “You will feed,” he said again. This time his voice was a whisper of sound, so compelling, so hypnotic, she found herself leaning close to him. She could feel the heat from his body, feel the warmth of his breath.

  Feed, Savannah. Come to me now.

  He dragged her closer to him and pressed her against his chest. “I am your lifemate. I can do no other than to see to your needs.”

  Savannah could taste him, the salt from his skin. His hunger, her hunger—she couldn’t tell where one left off and the other began. He was whispering in her mind, words impossible to understand, the music of them echoing through her body. His grip was impossible to break, the hand on her nape pressing her to him. There was no escaping his iron will. She didn’t even want to, her mouth already moving over his skin.

  Gregori closed his eyes as her teeth pierced deeply. The pleasure-pain was sensuous, her bare body irresistible, but he clamped down on his insatiable hunger. He had already been selfish, taking her on the tile floor, impatient and needing her in the midst of his own uncertainty. Now he cradled her head to him, feeding her until her pale skin was once more glowing and healthy. Then slowly, reluctantly, he allowed her to escape the compulsion.

  Her blue eyes blinked, awareness suddenly in their depths. She pulled away abruptly, rolling away from him to scramble for her clothes. “You really are scum, Gregori. You have no right to force me when I’ve said no.”

  He watched her look around for her tattered clothes. She sank back down on the bed with a tired sigh. “I seem to have no clothes again.”

  “Easily fixed, Savannah,” he said softly. Fashioning clothes from air and the elements was as old as time, as easy as anything he had ever done. She looked so upset, he wanted to gather her into his arms and hold her, comfort her. She was still disturbed that he had willingly ingested poison. That he had broken their laws by killing while feeding. But mostly she was upset that he had forced her to wait for him while he ventured into danger instead of allowing her to help him. And she was distressed that he had forced her to feed under compulsion.

  Gregori handed her soft jeans and a cotton shirt, his silver eyes watching her closely. “I am what I have been shaped to be over these endless centuries, Savannah,” he said carefully.

  She pushed wearily at her hair. Everything was happening so fast. Her world changing, turning upside down, unfamiliar and out of her control. Peter. The vampire. The human hunter. The poison. Being imprisoned by her own lifemate. She bit her lower lip in agitation, holding up the shirt to cover her breasts. “You can choose to be different, Gregori. Anyone can.”

  He touched her mind, a slight brush, and knew she was close to tears. He cupped the side of her face, his thumb brushing her cheekbone. “I do not choose to allow you to place your life in danger,

  mon amour.

  That is not something that will ever change.”

  “But I’m to live with you placing yourself in danger,” she countered, her blue eyes flashing at him.

  His white teeth gleamed, a predatory smirk. “I was never in danger. Wade Carter thought he was protected, but Carpathian children have stronger barriers against predators.”

  “The point is, you couldn’t know that, Gregori. You went out there and let him shoot you with that dart gun without even knowing what it was. And you made sure I couldn’t help you.”

  He took the shirt out of her hands and slipped it over her head. “I was never in danger, Savannah.” He said it quietly, patiently, his voice black velvet.

  She bent her head, long hair tumbling down to hide her expression. It didn’t matter. Gregori was in her mind, easily reading her thoughts. She was confused, afraid, sad. It pressed on her like a terrible weight on her chest.

  Gregori lifted her as if she were a baby and tugged on her jeans, encasing her bare, slender legs. He sat on the bed and cradled her in his lap. Very gently he rocked her back and forth. “I am sorry I frightened you,

  ma petite.

  I would not do so for the world. But you have to realize that you are tied to a man of power. Many things that might endanger our kind do not work on me. I am capable of many things that have never been done by others of our race. I know my own capabilities.” He stroked her hair, a gentle, soothing caress.

  She turned her face into his throat, hot tears spilling over. “I don’t know your capabilities.” Her voice was muffled, the tears clogging her throat. She tightened her fingers in his thick mane of hair, hanging on to him almost desperately.

  He dropped his head protectively over hers. “You need to have more faith in my strength, Savannah. Have faith in me. I am not about to throw away my life now that I have found you. Believe in me, in my power and abilities.”

  She burrowed closer, as if trying to get inside him.

  Gregori tightened his arms, sheltering her close. “I know what I can and cannot do,

  mon petit amour.

  I did not take any unnecessary chances.” He held her to him, inhaling her scent, their combined scents, counting himself lucky that she felt so strongly for his safety. “I am very sorry I frightened you,” he repeated into the silken strands of her hair.

  “Don’t do it again,” she ordered, nuzzling his throat. Her mouth moved over his skin and left behind a living flame.

  Gregori’s body reacted, stirring to life. He could feel her discomfort, the sore spots on her hips and back because of his own carelessness. He laid a palm over her hip and sent himself seeking outside his own body. At once, Savannah could feel soothing heat easing sore muscles, speeding to heal bruises. She could hear the ancient healing chant in her mind, Gregori’s beautiful voice flowing into her.

  She lay passively in his arms, staring up at sensual features etched and carved by time, at masculine Carpathian beauty. He was power and strength. He was her lifemate. She studied him, examining every inch of his face.

  Gregori suddenly smiled at her, a genuine smile that warmed the cold steel of his eyes to molten mercury. “What is it you are seeing?”

  She touched his chin with a fingertip. It was a nice chin. Stubborn. Determined. Nice all the same. “I’m seeing my lifemate, Gregori. I don’t want anything to happen to you.” Her hands framed his face. Very slowly she lifted her mouth to his. She kissed him slowly, thoroughly. Completely. Her tongue swept into his mouth, explored, teased, tempted. When she lifted her head, she rested her forehead against his. “Don’t ever do that again. Don’t leave me alone and helpless without you.”

  He actually felt the wrenching deep in his heart. She was turning him inside out. She wasn’t condemning him as she should have, she was making herself sick with worry. He found her neck and trailed kisses along the slim column. His teeth scraped her shoulder. “So you like jazz.”

  Savannah raised her head, her blue eyes searching his. “I love jazz,” she said softly. He could see the anxiety in her, the sudden hope.

  “Then I guess we cannot miss the famous festival in New Orleans,” he found himself saying, just to take the shadows from her eyes.

  She was silent a moment, her fingers twisting in the blanket. “Do you mean it, Gregori? We can go?”

  “You know how much I love crowds of humans,” he said, straight-faced.

  She laughed at him. “They don’t bite.”

  “I do,” he said, the words low and soft, his silver gaze at once possessive. Just the heat from her smile wreaked havoc with his body. He had had her only a few minutes before, yet he was hungry all over again. Fiercely hungry. His body reacted urgently, savagely, and he allowed it, making no effort to conceal his great need.

  Savannah’s breath caught in her throat at the sight of his arousal. This power, at least, she had, and the depth of it amazed her. Her fingers brushed his skin deliberately. He trembled beneath that light touch. She trailed her hand along his flat belly, and she felt him suck in his breath. Her fingers wrapped around the hard length of him, and she felt him shudder with pleasure.

  He caught her head in his hands, dragg
ing her closer. He was full with need, hurting with it. “I am going to hate New Orleans,” he whispered against her silken hair before she began lowering her head.

  Her breath warmed the velvet tip of him, sending fire racing through his blood. “Maybe we can think of something interesting to make it more enjoyable for you,” she ventured. Her mouth was satin soft, moist and hot.

  Gregori pressed his hips forward, forcing her back on the bed, his knees on the thick blanket above her. She was so beautiful, her flawless skin like cream, her thick hair spilling around her slender shoulders.

  Sitting up, she slowly peeled off the cotton shirt, baring her full breasts to his silver gaze. She looked lush and sexy in the dark of the night, a mysterious, erotic gift to him.

  “You think you might make New Orleans more bearable for me then?” His eyes were saying more than his mouth, touching her here and there, dwelling on every curve of her body.

  Her hand spanned his flat stomach and lingered there. “I’m sure I can be inventive enough to make you forget your dread of crowds. Take off my jeans.”

  “Your jeans?” he echoed.

  “You put them on me, and they’re definitely in the way. Take them off.” Her hand was wandering lower, her fingers walking lightly over his clenching muscles, a deliberate persuasion.

  His hands made quick work of unfastening her jeans and tugging them down her legs. She kicked them aside and leaned forward to press a kiss onto his stomach. Her hair slid over his heavy fullness, a silken tangle that nearly drove him out of his mind. “Sometimes your orders are very easy to follow,

  ma chйrie,

  ” he murmured, his eyes closing as her mouth wandered lower.

  He cupped her breasts in his palms, his thumbs caressing the tips into hard, beckoning peaks. His hips thrust forward almost against his own will, his body taking on a life of its own. Her fingers dug into his buttocks, urging him deeper into her, then slid down to caress the thick columns of his thighs. Her fingernails raked his skin gently even as she arched her body to allow him better access to her aching breasts.