Dark Magic (Dark Series - book 4)

by Christine Feehan

  Gary took a deep breath. “Maybe that is true, but maybe I’m already compromised. I wasn’t supposed to be at the warehouse this evening, but I showed up. My formula didn’t look right to me, so I performed a little investigation. I ran a chemical composition test. I was so angry, I went to one of the few society addresses I had. When I found that poor girl there, I went berserk and called the boss—Morrison—at his private number. He wasn’t available, but I left word I was going to shut down the society, expose it to the newspapers, to the police. I don’t think Rodney was as interested in killing you as he was in killing me. I got the feeling someone ordered him to kill me.”

  “He was under a vampire’s compulsion. Nothing would have stopped him,” Gregori admitted.

  “So I’m already a target, aren’t I?” Gary pointed out triumphantly.

  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, ma

  petite, 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, ma

  petite,

  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 sh
e 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

  my

  servant.”

  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.