Dark Magic (Dark Series - book 4) Read online

  He released her instantly, allowing her to stumble across the threshold by herself. Behind her, his large frame filled the doorway. He stood towering over her, silver eyes radiating heat, power, intense satisfaction. Gregori closed the door with his foot and reached for her.

  Savannah cried out and tried to evade his touch, but he caught her up with casual strength, cradling her struggling body against his chest. His chin brushed her silky hair. “Be still,

  enfante,

  or you will end up bruising yourself. There is no way to fight me, and I cannot permit you to harm yourself.”

  “I hate you.”

  “You do not hate me, Savannah. You fear me, but most of all, you fear what you are,” he replied calmly. He was moving through the house with long strides, carrying her to the basement, then lower still to the chamber hidden so carefully in deep earth.

  Her body burned for his, and, so close to his heat, there was no relief. Hunger rose sharply, and something wild in her lifted its head.

  Chapter Two

  The moment Gregori lowered her to her feet, Savannah sprang away from him. The single leap put the distance of the room between them. Fear was a growing, living thing, mixing with her wild nature.

  Gregori could feel her heart beat, and his own tuned itself to match the pounding rhythm of hers. Her blood called to him. He drew the scent into his lungs, into his veins, so his own blood heated and surged with a fierce, burning need. He drew breath for both of them, struggling to control the raging demon in him, struggling for the calm he needed to keep from hurting her, to keep her from hurting herself.

  She looked what she was, young, wild, beautiful, her eyes deep violet with fiery stars, enormous with fear. She crouched in the farthest corner from him, her every thought so chaotic that it took him a few moments to sort the whirling emotions. Grief and guilt for her lost friend. Disgust and humiliation that her body could betray her, that she wasn’t strong enough to stand up to him. Fear that he could achieve his goal, make her his mate, control her life. Fear that he would hurt her with his strength, with his own burning hunger. The need to escape was paramount; she meant to fight to the death.

  Gregori faced her without expression, without moving a muscle. He searched for a way to defuse the situation. He would never allow Savannah to die. He had risked everything for her. Risked his own sanity, his very soul. He would not lose everything now through clumsiness. “I am truly sorry for the loss of your friend, Savannah,” Gregori said quietly, gently, his voice low, a whisper of hypnotic music.

  Her eyelashes fluttered. She blinked. His words were clearly unexpected.

  “I should have been there much more quickly to save him,” he admitted softly. “I will not let you down again.”

  She moistened her lips and dragged in air. He looked invincible, merciless. He looked like a sorcerer, exuding dark temptation from every pore. His sheer sexuality was overpowering. His gentle voice and perfect calm were at odds with the touch of sensual cruelty about his mouth, the intense burning in his pale eyes, and the implacable mask he always wore.

  “I am not such a monster that I would attack you while your grief and fear are so sharp. Relax,

  enfante.

  Your lifemate may be a demon to all others, but you are safe. I want only to comfort you.” He felt her tentative mind-touch, seeking the truth of his words. He rarely allowed anyone the intimacy of a mental bond. With her, the melding added to his deep physical ache, the swirling of unfamiliar emotions. But it also gave him pleasure. Intense pleasure.

  All Savannah could detect was his need to offer her comfort. His mind seemed serenity itself, a clear, cool pool without a ripple. She felt her body relaxing, his mind calming the chaos of hers. Why was it Gregori she responded to? As he had said, any other male’s touch had made her feel revulsion. He just had to be near her, and her mind and body cried out for him.

  She rubbed her pounding head. Little hammers seemed to be having a field day in her skull. Gregori moved easily, casually to the nightstand beside the bed. Her gaze stayed glued to him, her face pale, shadows haunting her eyes. He crushed herbs into a crystal bowl, the soothing fragrance instantly filling the room.

  “Come here,

  ma chйrie.

  ” His voice was low and compelling. The sound of it washed over her like clear water. “It’s almost dawn.”

  Her gaze shifted uncomfortably to the bed as Savannah noticed her surroundings for the first time. The room was large, spacious, old-fashioned. Candles lit the interior, making it glow softly. The bed was large, a heavy four-poster carved elaborately with roses and twining leaves. It was beautiful, gothic—and frightening. She cleared her throat and rubbed her forehead uncertainly. “I’d like my own sleeping chamber.”

  The pale eyes drifted over her possessively. “You will not leave my side.”

  “No?” All at once she was desperately weary, her head hurting, her legs trembling, and she sat down abruptly on the floor. One hand swept through her heavy blue-black hair, shoving it away from her face in an unconsciously feminine gesture. She blinked, and that fast Gregori was standing over her. She closed her eyes when he reached for her. He was strong, enormously strong, lifting her as if she was no more than a child. She buried her face against his chest, unable to summon the strength to fight him.

  Gregori savored the feel of Savannah in his arms, her softness cradled against his heavy muscles, the silk of her hair brushing erotically over his skin. Pain raced through him like molten lava; hunger rose. He lay her on his bed, where she belonged. His primitive nature, the hunter, the predator in him, demanded he take her immediately, bind her irrevocably to him for all time. She belonged to him. He knew exactly what he was, a heartless demon, without Savannah sentenced to an endless, lonely existence. He had walked the earth for centuries, a powerful healer, none greater than he, but completely dead inside. He had been so alone. Always alone. Endlessly alone. But now he had Savannah. And he would destroy anyone who attempted to take her from him, anyone who threatened her.

  His hand stroked back her hair, soothingly massaged her scalp. His hypnotic voice took on a low chant of healing, removing the pain from her temples, replacing it with peace. He stretched out beside her, his larger, heavier frame dwarfing hers. Instantly his body reacted to her closeness. He was on fire, his need burning in his blood, his muscles, every fiber of his body. He accepted the pain, grateful he could feel it. As he drew her into his arms, he marveled at the perfection in one so small and fragile. She was trembling so much, he could hear her teeth chatter.

  “I know what I am, Savannah, a monster such as the human world cannot conceive. But I have always had honor, integrity, and a talent for healing. I can make you two promises. I will never have untruth between us, and I will protect you with my life. I have said I will not take what is mine this night. We have time to calm your fears.”

  She burrowed her face into his silk shirt, where she could feel the steady beat of his heart, the heat of his skin. It was impossible for him to hide his fierce arousal, and he didn’t bother to try, rather fitting her body to the hard length of his. Savannah was far too drained by the evening’s events to continue to struggle. She lay in his arms, exhausted, finding a measure of peace from the very one who threatened her.

  “You think I’m like other Carpathian women, Gregori, but I’m not,” she said softly, uncertain whether she was offering an apology or an explanation.

  His mouth brushed the top of her head, the lightest of caresses; his thumb stroked the spot where Roberto had struck her. “You know what happens to the males of our species, Savannah; your father would not have neglected to educate you in something so important. You cannot run around unclaimed. There are others like Roberto, savage, dangerous, driven to madness by the lack of a lifemate.”

  “He was half your age. Why would he turn renegade and you not?” She turned her head to meet Gregori’s pale eyes. A shiver ran through her at the lack of mercy she saw there, at the stark poss
ession burning in the icy silver depths.

  “Have you ever wondered why there are so few of us Carpathians?”

  “Of course I have. Just because I don’t choose to mate does not mean I don’t think about the problems facing our people. Gregori, I don’t want to be anyone’s lifemate. There’s no reason to take it personally.”

  Gregori smiled at her, his perfect mouth sensual and inviting. “I know you are afraid of me, Savannah.”

  Determined not to be drawn into an argument she could not win, she went back to a safer topic. “The reason there are so few Carpathians is because there are so few women and no female children. Even the male children rarely survive their first year.” Savannah involuntarily moved closer to his warmth. He seemed so strong, making her feel oddly safe and comforted on the worst night of her life.

  “What of the men? Do you truly wonder why so few survive without turning vampire?” His hand stroked her hair. “Have you ever felt alone, Savannah, truly alone?”

  As a child she had lived in isolation, but her parents, devoted as they were to each other, still spoiled and adored her. Her wolf, too, had been extraordinary, filling every empty place in her life. She had never felt alone until she had put an ocean between herself and the healing soil of her homeland. Away from her parents, the wolf, and even her oppressive obligations as a Carpathian female had left her with a gaping hole in her heart. Being surrounded by people, even the affection she felt toward Peter and the members of her crew, did not alleviate the growing emptiness threatening to consume her. Unwilling to share her secrets with Gregori, however, she didn’t answer.

  “We males cannot survive the growing darkness without our mates, Savannah. Our nature is aggressive, predatory, possessive, even among our own kind. We are destructive and powerful, and we hunger for blood. We need a balance. Most males begin to decline after several centuries, when they no longer see color, experience no true feeling, and can rely only on the strength of their wills to keep our laws. Some choose to end their existence before it is too late, walking into the dawn, the light of day, and allowing the earth to claim them. A good many others choose to embrace the darkness, giving up their souls, preying on the human race. They abuse women and children, hunt and kill for the momentary high, for the power and rush. It cannot be allowed.”

  “My father and you are the oldest. How did you survive?”

  “Your father and I spent our bloodlust years in the midst of wars across Europe. Our energies could be channeled into saving others from ravaging armies. The vampire hunts provided us with more opponents. Between us, we made a pact to seek the dawn before we turned completely. Your father had the responsibility for our people to keep him sane, and later he found your mother, a human with extraordinary psychic talent and so much courage and compassion that she was able to accept our life.”

  “What of you?”

  “The best I can say of myself is that I never abused a woman or child, and that I spent centuries learning the healing arts. But I have the nature of a predator, Savannah, as do all the males of our race. Because I am centuries old, the beast is strong in me.” He sighed softly. “The five years I allotted you your freedom have been hell for me and dangerous to anyone I came into contact with. I am very close to turning, and it is too late for me to seek the dawn. It was necessary for the safety of all concerned that I come for you now.” His hands tangled in the silk of her hair, crushing strands to bury his face in, to inhale her fresh scent. “I can wait no longer.”

  The admission was torn from his soul. He could not afford to give her the one thing she asked of him—her freedom. Although he was Gregori, the Dark One, the most powerful among Carpathians, he was not strong enough to give her up. She must become lifemate to the one Carpathian all others feared. And she was so very young.

  “Did you ever wonder what it is like for the women of our race, Gregori? To know that by our eighteenth year we must go from our father’s keeping to some stranger’s?” This time she did open her mind to him fully, called up the memory of five years ago for both of them.

  Like any woman-child of mating age, Savannah had found a heady excitement in knowing that she was beautiful and held power over the male of the species. She was pleased when her father summoned all the available males in to meet her. Ignoring her mother’s worry, she had flitted among them, innocent of what havoc she was creating. However, somewhere during the gathering she had become aware of its dangerous atmosphere, the press of male bodies against her, the hunger in their eyes, the smell of their arousal. None of them, she realized, knew her or cared about her or cared to know what she felt or thought. They wanted her, yet it wasn’t really her they wanted. She felt suffocated, repulsed, afraid. Not one of them had made her feel the things she was supposed to feel.

  Savannah had escaped to her room and bathed her face with cool water, feeling sick and somehow dirty. When she turned around, Gregori, the Dark One, was in her room with her. His power emanated from every pore. He carried it casually, the same way he carried his enormous strength.

  He was totally different from the others—much more frightening, much more powerful. They seemed like callow youths in comparison. His pale eyes moved over her possessively, and her skin burned at the mere brush of his gaze. He took her breath and turned her body to hot liquid, making her want things she had never dreamed of.

  Fear had slammed into her at the knowledge that he could easily steal her very will, make her his so irrevocably that she would do anything to be with him.

  You belong to me, no other.

  The words were in her head, the bond so familiar and strong, it was terrifying. The mental path was not the familiar Carpathian one but that of a private, intimate bond. He moved, a single ripple of muscle, and her heart pounded in anticipation. His fingers circled her upper arm so that she was all too aware of his enormous strength. It was nearly impossible to breathe. His fingers slid the length of her arm to encircle her fragile wrist like a bracelet. The skimming contact was like a tongue of fire licking along her skin. Every cell in her body suddenly stilled; she held her breath, waiting. Just waiting. He tugged her to him, close, so close, until her body was imprinted for all time by his. Very gently, he tilted her chin and fastened his mouth to hers.

  In that instant her entire life, her very existence changed. The earth rocked, the air sizzled, and her body no longer belonged to her. She needed, burned, ached for him. Body and mind, her very skin, was merged with his. There was no Savannah without Gregori and no Gregori without Savannah. She needed his hands on her; she needed him inside her, her heart, her mind, her body, her very soul.

  When he released her, she felt bereft, experiencing a terrible emptiness, as if he had stolen a huge part of her and left her a mere shadow. The idea terrified her. A stranger, someone who didn’t love her or know her, was capable of taking over her life. It suddenly seemed far worse than giving herself to one of the others. None of them would ever control her or take over her entire life. If none of them could ever love her, at least they wouldn’t own her, body and soul. Terrified, she had pleaded with Gregori to let her go, to let her live her own life. His eyes dark with sorrow and heated with something else, he had released her, had agreed to give her more time. Savannah, however, had planned to flee his power forever.

  The worst of it was, after her flight to the United States, Savannah had never felt complete again. Gregori had ripped out a part of her with one small kiss. He was never out of her head. When she closed her eyes at night, all she could see was him. Sometimes, if she concentrated enough, she could even smell his wild, untamed scent. He haunted her dreams and called to her in her sleep. Clearly, the risk he posed to her very soul was far too enormous to allow what he was now demanding.

  Gregori’s hand cupped the back of her head, then slipped to the nape of her neck. “We can cope with your fears,

  ma petite.

  They are not insurmountable.” His voice, as always, was calm and unruffled.

  Savannah
’s heart sank. Nothing moved him to mercy, not even her sharing one of her most private and frightening memories. “I don’t want this,” she whispered, tears burning in her throat. She was humiliated that she had admitted so much and that it had meant so little to him.

  “Rest now, little one. We will sort it out later.”

  She was silent, seeming to accept his command quietly. But Savannah had a few tricks up her sleeve; after all, she was considered one of the world’s leading magicians. Gregori might be offering her a temporary reprieve, but when they woke, his appetite would be ferocious. She doubted that even his mammoth self-control would save her then. She would have to make her most daring—and most important—escape ever.

  “Savannah?” Gregori’s arm drew her tightly, possessively against him. “Do not try to leave me. Fight me, argue, but do not try to leave me. I walk the edge of control. I feel for nothing or no one but you. It would be very dangerous.”

  “So I am to give up my life so yours can continue.” Her tears fell on the back of her hand.

  “You cannot exist without me, either, Savannah. It is only a matter of time before the growing emptiness consumes you.” He raised her hand to his mouth and touched his tongue to her tears, savoring the taste of her. Then his voice dropped an octave, became purity itself. “Do not deny it. I feel it growing in you. The terrible, aching loneliness.”

  Savannah’s heart jumped at the rough velvet of his tongue rasping across her bare knuckles. She would not allow his natural sensuality to seduce her, no matter how her own body responded to the forbidden call. “How much time do I have before then, Gregori? A century or two? Five? More? You don’t know, do you? That’s because none of our women were ever allowed to command their own fate. I shouldn’t be responsible for your life any more than you should be responsible for mine.”

  “We are Carpathian,

  ma petite,