Dark Magic (Dark Series - book 4)

by Christine Feehan

  was

  compulsion. She could not resist the command in his unwavering eyes.

  Savannah sighed. “I’m weak most of the time. I can’t shape-shift without it taking a tremendous toll. That’s why my shows are becoming so rare. I can hardly manage mist to escape and then materialize again.” She didn’t add that she could no longer manage adequate safeguards while she slept, but she could tell by the sudden glint of steel in his eyes that he had caught the echo of her hastily banned thought.

  His silver gaze became steel, and his arms tightened, threatening to crush her body against the hard strength of his. “Why have you not remedied the situation?” His voice, a soft menace, sent a shiver through her. She was all too aware of his enormous strength.

  “I tried with Peter once, when I was really in a bad way. He was compliant, but I just couldn’t bring myself to take his blood.” She didn’t want to admit that the real reason was that she thought her unusual diet enabled her to walk in the sun.

  “This will end. I forbid a continuation of this stupidity.” He gave her a little shake, his teeth very white as they snapped together in irritation. “Should there be need, Savannah, I will force your compliance.” He wasn’t bragging; his voice held no challenge or taunt. He simply stated the fact.

  She knew he was threatening her not with physical force but with mental compulsion. “Gregori”—she was striving to sound calm and reasonable—”it would be wrong for you to force your will on me.”

  He set her on her feet, holding her carefully with one hand, the other going to the buttons of her blouse. Savannah’s breath caught in her throat. Both her hands whipped up to catch his. “What are you doing?”

  “Removing your clothes.” He didn’t seem to be aware of her hands straining to control his. The edges of her blouse parted, revealing her narrow rib cage, the soft swell of her breasts in nearly transparent lace.

  The beast surfaced for a moment, wanting to tear, to feed, to claim. It was nearly impossible to control, and for the first time he was truly afraid he had waited too long to come to her. She could be in real danger if he slipped over the edge into madness. Need slammed into him, hard and painful, but he took a deep breath, fought, and won. His hand was steady as he removed the wisp of lace, spilling her full breasts into his view. His fingers brushed satin skin because he couldn’t stop himself, his thumb stroking her nipples into hard peaks. He murmured something—Savannah wasn’t certain what it was—before he lowered his mouth to taste the creamy offering.

  At the first touch of his tongue, the scrape of his teeth, her legs nearly gave out. Her body went liquid with need. He drew her into the moist heat of his mouth, setting both of them on fire.

  Savannah’s fingers tangled in his thick, midnight-black hair with every intention of jerking his head back, but flames were licking along her skin, igniting a fire deep within her.

  Just once, taste the forbidden. Just once.

  It was a measure of her pleasure that she didn’t know if it was his thought or hers tempting her.

  His hand skimmed down her stomach, found the zipper of her jeans. Around her, colors whirled and danced, the air crackled, the earth shifted beneath her feet. A moan of despair, of desire, escaped her throat. The sound of their hearts, the rush of their blood, was music in her ears. It called to something wild in her. The scent of him, masculine and aroused, the scent of his blood, brought hunger, sharp and compelling.

  “No! I won’t do this!” Savannah, desperate to escape his black-magic spell, flung herself away. She wanted him more than anything, more than her own soul, and the intensity of her need frightened her to death.

  Gregori’s arms trapped her so that they fell together, floated to the floor, his large body covering hers. Her head was pinned beneath his chest, the scent of his blood strong, his pulse beating, beating at her resistance. His hands hooked in the waistband of her jeans and peeled them from her body with ease, taking with them the lacy scrap that passed for underwear. His hands stroked the length of her, committing every hollow and curve to memory, leaving fire in their wake.

  Savannah found his skin hot, salty beneath her lips. Her tongue found his pulse and stroked a caress. His body shuddered with pleasure; his arms tightened into steel bands around her. His breath was warm against her neck, her ear. “Take from me what you need, Savannah,” he whispered softly, a black-velvet seduction. “I offer freely as I did in the past Remember how I tasted?” It was pure temptation, the devil enticing her.

  Remember?

  He breathed the word into her mind.

  Savannah closed her eyes. The scent of blood was overpowering, calling to her, whispering a spell. She was so weak. To feed just once and be strong again... It might last for a long time. It would be so easy to let herself taste him. Her body clenched at the thought of it, every instinct crying out for survival.

  His hand slid over her thigh, sending a shiver racing through her bloodstream. Her tongue flicked out again, stroked, lingered. Gregori’s fingers found moist heat, caressed, lingered. Her teeth grazed his skin, then nipped. He controlled the urge to pin her hips and possess her. She was only half lost, her mind confused, hunger raging and her body burning with need. He fed that heat, his fingers delving deeper, exploring, feeling her muscles clench, her hips thrusting against him, seeking relief.

  Hunger

  . He thought it, built it, allowed it to consume him. His body was in pain, in need, hot and hard and hurting. Her mind sought his, merging until it was impossible to separate one from the other.

  Hunger. Remember. The taste. Just one more time, the taste of him.

  She couldn’t think clearly. There was so much need, so much hunger. A part of her could feel his bare skin hot against hers, his body aggressively male, but mostly she was drawn to that steady, strong heartbeat Gregori’s fingers delved deep into her heat, and flames leapt in response—red fire, white heat, blue lightning. Her will dissolved, and her teeth sank deep. Gregori cried out hoarsely, exploding with pleasure so intense it was ecstasy. It was pure eroticism, her mouth moving, feeding, taking his life-force into her body. He had waited so long. His mind clouded, became a red haze of piercing need, and he pinned her slender hips with bruising force, holding her still for his invasion.

  She was a sheath of velvet fire, and he buried himself in her as deeply as he could, ripping past her thin barrier of protection, burning, needing, determined to make her his for all eternity. Her shocked cry of pain was lost against his chest, muffled beneath him. She was so small, so tight and fiery, he was lost in pure sensation. Feeling. Pure feeling. Real feeling. No fantasy he had made up to endure the darkness, the loneliness, but true feeling. The sweet, coppery smell of blood was overwhelming, calling to him with relentless seduction. The smell of her blood, mingled with their combined scents, fed his red haze, sent him careening out of control, and triggered his every predatory, aggressive, bestial instinct.

  Savannah automatically closed the wound in his chest with a flick of her tongue, already struggling wildly. He was hurting her with his bruising strength, his body stretching hers, tearing through her innocence so brutally. His hands were everywhere, his teeth following. Low, warning growls rumbled in his throat as she fought him.

  Gregori lifted his head, eyes glowing red, dangerous, out of control, no longer human, lost at the edge of madness. The more Savannah fought, the more brutal he became, a wild animal seeking domination, seeking his own pleasure.

  White-hot pain sliced through her as his teeth pierced the vulnerable swell of her breast. She cried out a protest, but he held her down easily beneath the weight of his body, kept her pinned and vulnerable while he took his pleasure. As her blood flowed into him, his body buried itself in hers over and over, driving deeper and harder.

  Hot blood poured into his mouth. He had never known such a taste, could not possibly get enough. It flowed into his body like nectar, burning yet soothing. He had never felt ecstasy such as her body provided. He wanted it to last for
ever. Power swept through him, total rapture. His body was wild, seeking more, ever more, to match the frenzied feeding of his mouth.

  Gregori no longer existed; the raging animal in his place was draining Savannah of her life’s blood, using her body without the care of a tender lifemate. Savannah accepted her oncoming death but worried for her father, who would be pitted against this, the most cunning, the strongest of all Carpathians.

  She felt a faint stirring in her mind—not sentences but impressions. Gregori was fighting his way back from madness to help her, his only thought now for her. He felt deep sorrow that he had waited too long and put her in such danger from him.

  Kill me,

  chйrie.

  When this thing taking you is done, it will be weak, lazy, sated. Kill it then. I will do my best to aid you in this.

  Guilt washed over her. Gregori had sentenced himself to five years of hell to give her the freedom she had so desired. During that time he had walked very close to madness, yet he had held on—for her. Their minds were merged, and she could touch the suffering he had endured on her behalf. Now he was willing to die to save her. Savannah closed her eyes and willed her body to relax, to become soft and accepting.

  Gregori.

  He thought his soul was lost, that he had become a true vampire with no care for right or wrong. A wild beast with no creed, with enormous power, dangerous beyond belief. He had held out so long against the crushing black emptiness, yet now he was lost, trapped in a vortex of violence and passion, power and pleasure. She had brought him to this evil end. Her fears, her youth, were responsible for reducing his greatness to mindless savagery.

  Savannah’s fingers found the nape of his neck, and she forced her own pain from her mind, trying not to feel the brutal treatment he was subjecting her to.

  Gregori.

  The Dark One. Wild. Lawless. Always alone. Never touched, completely isolated. Feared. No Carpathian was comfortable in his presence, yet he had healed many of their race, hunted their assassins, carried out justice when it was the harshest of duties, to keep their people safe.

  Who would care now for this wild beast? Who would feel gratitude for what he had sacrificed for them all? Who would ever attempt to get close enough to reach the man within? Compassion welled up in Savannah, and something else she dared not examine too closely. She could not allow such a fate to befall so great a Carpathian. She would not allow it. Her determination was beyond anything she had ever felt.

  Her hands stroked his wild mane of hair and cradled his head to her breast, giving herself up to him freely, her thoughts calm in the eye of the storm, offering him her life without reservation.

  Take freely, Gregori. My life for your life.

  It was the least she could do, no less than he had done for her, for all of their race.

  I am here for you, Gregori. I offer what you need freely.

  She meant it. She would not allow him to become the undead. She would not give him up to that soulless world.

  Savannah!

  He seemed a little stronger, or perhaps she simply hoped the man was gaining on the beast.

  You must survive. Kill me.

  His voice was a fierce, pleading growl in her head.

  Her own mind responded.

  Feel me, my body joining with yours. I belong to you and you to me. Feel me with you. Reach for me. I will not let you go. Wherever you are, I am with you. Where you go, I follow. I offer my life freely for yours. You cannot take what is given to you. You have committed no wrong in taking.

  His hips continued to surge into her, but with more care, as if he was slowly returning to awareness. Encouraged, Savannah moved her body to meet his, matching his furious rhythm, his heart, his lungs, until they were in perfect synchronization. One body, one heart, one mind. She tried to slow them down, to coax his body to the slower, more gentle rhythm of hers.

  Savannah.

  Her name was a plea this time, still far away but more determined. The mouth working so ferociously at her breast gentled.

  Save yourself.

  Gregori was fighting for her as she was fighting for him.

  There is only us.

  She was calm now, her hands moving soothingly over the taut, rigid muscles of his back.

  No me, no you.

  She was weak, drained, a strange lethargy overtaking her.

  Only us.

  Had her voice slurred a bit?

  I will not leave you, nor will I allow the darkness to take you from me.

  Savannah lay beneath him, almost in a dream world. Suddenly, as if sensing she was slipping away from him, the beast raised its head, its eyes red, silver, red, silver, glaring at her, at once feral, then tender. Warm blood trickled down the slope of her breast. She blinked to bring him back into focus. His body was shuddering, spilling his seed deep within her. A long stroke of his tongue closed the wound at her breast and followed the drops of blood to her stomach.

  I claim you as my lifemate.

  The words were husky in her mind. His voice followed, hoarse, as if the terrible conflict for his soul had taken its toll. “I belong to you. I offer my life for you.” The voice became stronger, more Gregori’s, a beautiful velvet caress, as he recited the ancient Carpathian vows that would link them for eternity. “I give you my protection, my allegiance, my heart, my soul, and my body. I take into my keeping the same that is yours.” He caught the back of her head in his palm, slashed a wound near his throat, and pressed her mouth to the gash. She was weak, almost too weak to drink even under his compulsion.

  Drink

  , mon amour,

  for both our lives.

  He forced her obedience without a qualm. Without his blood, she would not survive the hour. Yet all that she had suffered to save him would be for nothing. Because without her he would have no reason or will to survive.

  He stroked her hair tenderly, his body moving gently in hers. The ritual had to be completed to prevent a repeat of this terrible danger to her. He needed her residing in him, anchoring his darkness with her light. It would be a long road back, but she was strong, dragging him from the black emptiness of his bestial nature with her trust. He finished the vows softly. “Your life, happiness, and welfare will be placed above my own. You are my lifemate, bound to me for all eternity and always in my care.”

  His body could feel the ecstasy of the combination of her feeding and the heated velvet of her feminine sheath. He pushed down the pleasure, knowing she was not feeling what he was. The moment he was certain she had enough blood for survival, he allowed himself a second release.

  Her head lolled back on her fragile neck, like a flower on a stem. She was so pale, her skin looked nearly translucent. Gregori took her hand and brought it to his mouth, his silver eyes moving over her face, noting shadows and hollows that had not been there before. As he looked at her, something inside him went soft, tender.

  He eased himself from her body, glanced down at her slender form, and went perfectly still, shocked, horrified, nearly disbelieving. Bruises, scratches, and bite marks marred her skin. Blood and seed trickled down her leg, and he sought inside himself to remember his taking of her innocence.

  A sound, raw and wounded, tore at his throat. How could he have done such a brutal, unforgivable thing? How could there ever be forgiveness? Savannah had managed to guide him back from the black void of the damned. Everything he knew, everything he believed, told him this was a miracle. But she had paid a terrible price.

  Gregori carried her limp body to the steaming bath, thankful for the hot water that would help ease her soreness until he could get her into a deep, rejuvenating sleep. In their homeland, the rich soil would have welcomed her, helped mend her. Here, in this strange land, there was only Gregori and his healing powers. He could force her to sleep until her injuries were completely healed. He could take away every memory of his brutality, implant a beautiful tale of their lovemaking. Yet he had told her he would never have untruth between them, and if he changed h
er memory, their entire relationship from that day forward would become just that—an untruth.

  Savannah was lying so still, pale and helpless. Gregori stroked back her ebony hair, his heart in so much pain that it felt as if a hand was squeezing it, ripping it from his chest. The plain truth was, the lie would be for himself, and he didn’t deserve it. Her courage had brought him back. If she could face the demon in him, he could do no less.

  Chapter Four

  Savannah woke slowly, drowsily, from her sleep. Awareness came with her first attempts at movement. The Carpathian gift of exquisite sensitivity, the ability to see and smell and hear and taste so vividly, the phenomenally passionate nature of body and mind that allowed them to mate so wildly, was a curse when it came to pain. Carpathians felt pain as sharply and clearly as they saw and heard, with no chemical agents to numb the sensation. A groan escaped before she could prevent it.

  Instantly a soothing hand rested on her forehead, stroking back her hair. “You are not to move,

  ma petite.

  ”

  A faint smile curved her mouth. “Do you have to make everything you say an order?” Her lashes lifted to reveal her blue-violet eyes.

  Gregori expected censure, rage, disgust. Her eyes were cloudy with pain, a little sleepy, and held a hint of fear she tried hard to conceal, but nothing else. He was a shadow in her mind, so she couldn’t hide her thoughts. She was concerned mainly for him, for the terrible fight he had endured for his own sanity, the scars on his soul. She felt guilt and an overwhelming sense of sadness that her youth and inexperience had forced such choices on him. He didn’t realize he was frowning until her finger smoothed his lips. Her touch jolted him. The way she looked at him turned his heart over, melting his every jagged edge.

  “You took a terrible chance, Savannah. I could have killed you. Next time I give you an order, follow it.”

  She flashed a wan grin, then hastily sobered when her swollen lips hurt. She was terribly weak, in need of blood. The scent of it rose to taunt her with memories she desperately needed to avoid right now. “I’m actually not very good at following orders. I guess you’ll just have to get used to that.” Savannah attempted to sit up, but he made it impossible with one large hand splayed over her heart.