Dark Magic (Dark Series - book 4)

by Christine Feehan

  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,

  bйbй”

  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 chйrie,

&nb
sp; 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, chйrie,

  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

  was

  his 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.

  Savannah

  glanced 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,

  chйrie,

  ” 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.