Dark Magic (Dark Series - book 4)

by Christine Feehan

  Gregori took no chances with her stubborn ways. He thrust his will decisively into hers, blocking any attempt to take the control back. She was tired.

  She smiled at him, tender, loving, accepting. Gregori slid his arm along the back of her chair protectively.

  Oblivious of the interplay between the two Carpathians, Gary continued the conversation. “They wanted us to watch her, to do research on her, find out what we could about her background. And she wasn’t the only one. There was a man they seemed very interested in. An Italian, I think. Julian Selvaggio or something close to that.”

  Selvaggio

  is Italian for

  Savage.

  Aidan and Julian were born

  Selvaggio.

  It also means

  unsociable person, Gregori’s voice whispered in her mind.

  Savannah felt her heart slam painfully against her ribs. Julian. Of course it was Julian Savage. She looked up at Gregori. The society was setting its members against Julian. She didn’t know him personally, but suddenly it all seemed very close to home.

  We will send word to him, ma

  petite.

  Who better to guard the woman from those who also wish his death? Julian is a very dangerous hunter. One of our best. Second to your father, he is perhaps the most powerful Carpathian alive. I guess we aren’t considering you,

  Savannah said loyally, truthfully.

  Gregori turned his attention to Gary. “So the society members from Florida were different from the rest of you. They were serious, and they gave you specific names to get information on. Were there more?”

  Gary nodded. “I have a laptop in my hotel room. It lists those they suspect and activities they considered suspicious.”

  Gregori permitted himself a small smile. His teeth were gleaming white, those of a predator on the prowl. “I think a trip to your hotel room is on the agenda tonight.”

  Savannah tossed her braid over her shoulder and allowed herself to look around the room. Laughter was erupting from nearly every table. Most of the occupants were tourists, and she enjoyed listening to the various accents and conversations. A group of older locals was four tables away. She found their mixture of French Cajun fascinating. Three of them had grown up together and were telling a fourth, younger man some of the more fanciful tales of their youth.

  She found herself tuning in as the young man laughed softly. “Stories about Old man alligator have been around since before my grandfather’s time. It’s just a legend, an old tale to scare the children away from the swamp, nothing more. My mother used to tell me that same story.”

  An argument broke out instantly among the men. The oldest, the one with the heaviest accent, broke into French, not the elegant French Gregori spoke, but the local dialect. All the same, Savannah was certain he was swearing a blue streak. There was such a soothing cadence to the old man’s voice, a rhythm unique to New Orleans.

  As she listened, the old alligator grew in stature. He was huge, like the grinning crocodile of the Nile. He had eaten hundreds of hunting dogs, lay in wait along a trail and gulped them as they came running by. He snatched small children from the banks in front of their parents’ homes. An entire boatload of partying teens had vanished in his domain. The tales grew with each telling.

  At first, Savannah was smiling, enjoying the fascinating old legend, but a slow dread was beginning to seize her. She glanced at Gregori. He was talking quietly with Gary, extracting information with skillful questions even as he gave the illusion of having a pleasant conversation. She knew he was automatically scanning the area, monitoring other conversations, yet he seemed relaxed, unaware of the gathering blackness.

  She rubbed her pounding temples, massaged her tight neck. Little beads of sweat broke out on her forehead.

  Savannah tried to concentrate on the funny tale, the growing exploits of the alligator, but with each passing moment all she could do was feel the black apprehension building like some terrible disease that managed to get inside her mind and cling to her.

  Gregori turned his head, the silver eyes slashing her face, at once concerned.

  ma

  petite,

  what is it?

  His mind was already reaching for hers, merging fully so that he could feel the gathering sense of darkness growing so quickly within her.

  Is it possible there is an evil one present?

  she asked. Her stomach was lurching.

  Gregori studied the room. There was always the chance one of the undead had learned to mask himself from other Carpathians. He could do it. It would be egotistical to think another might not learn the trick. The master vampire was very old. He had survived the hunters because he was cunning and perfectly willing to flee the vicinity and leave it to the hunter until such time as it was once again safe to return. Still, Gregori doubted he would deliberately go to the same restaurant as a hunter to secretly gloat, especially if that hunter was Gregori.

  The Dark One.

  Only those weary of their existence challenged him outright.

  Gary was looking from one to the other in alarm. “What is it?”

  “Remain calm. Savannah is very sensitive to evil. She can feel it, and I can touch it through her, but I cannot detect it within the room myself.”

  “Are we in danger?” Gary found the idea more exciting than frightening. He was looking forward to action.

  Rambo style.

  Savannah and Gregori exchanged a sudden smile. “Gary.” Savannah couldn’t help herself. “You’ve seen too many movies.”

  “Yeah, well, you don’t know what this is like for me. All my life my classmates and friends made fun of me.

  The bullies shoved me into walls and tossed me into trash cans. All because I always did my homework and got A’s on every paper. This is exciting stuff for me.”

  “Me, too,” Savannah lied. She didn’t want any part of it, for herself, for Gary, or for Gregori. She wanted them all to be safe. Whatever horrible thing was waiting for them, crouched just beyond their reach, carried the foul stench of evil. It permeated her mind and left her feeling sick and dizzy. “I have to get out of here, Gregori.”

  You will be fine,

  mon amour.

  We will leave this place immediately. It seems your mother did pass on her gift to you.

  Once more he allowed himself to survey the room. There was nothing but the laughter of the tourists and the good-natured wrangling of those who lived there. Gregori summoned the waiter, paid the check, and took Savannah by the arm as they wound their way among the tables.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Walking around the French Quarter in the night air helped to clear Savannah’s head of the presence of evil. Whatever or whoever it was didn’t follow them out of the restaurant. Within a few minutes, she felt better. Gregori kept her under the shelter of his shoulder. He remained silent, but his mind was merged fully with hers, observing the darkness rapidly dispelling.

  Gregori guided them without saying a word toward the hotel where Gary was staying. He wanted the list of names, wanted to be able to see how far the society’s rot had spread. Gary believed most members of the society were others like him, hoping it might be true that vampires lived and that they were the romantic characters depicted in recent movies and books.

  But Gregori had seen what the depraved human mind could do. He had seen the work of the society time and time again. Women butchered and murdered, innocents, children. He laced his fingers through Savannah’s, finding a measure of peace and solace in her closeness. The wind blew the dark, ugly memories into the night.

  Savannah’s fingers tightened around his. “Did you know what it was?”

  “No, but it was real,

  chйrie.

  I was in your head. You did not imagine it.” They walked along, the silence comfortable between them.

  A block from his hotel, Gary cleared his throat. “I thought you said going back to my room might be dangerous.”

  “Life
is dangerous, Gary,” Gregori said softly. “You are

  Rambo,

  remember?”

  Savannah’s laughter rang out, rivaling the jazz quartet playing on the corner. Heads turned to listen to her, men to watch her, stealing away the attention of the audience gathered in a loose semi-circle around the quartet. She moved in the human world, completely comfortable in it, a part of it. Gregori had walked unseen, and that was how he preferred it. She was dragging him into her world. He could hardly believe he was walking down a crowded street with a mortal with half the block staring openly at them.

  “I didn’t know you knew who Rambo was,” Savannah said, trying not to giggle. She couldn’t imagine Gregori in a theater watching a Rambo movie.

  “You saw a Rambo flick?” Gary was incredulous.

  Gregori made a sound somewhere between contempt and derision. “I read Gary’s memories on the subject. Interesting. Silly, but interesting.” He glanced at Gary. “This is your hero?”

  Gary’s grin was as mischievous as Savannah’s. “Until I met you, Gregori.”

  Gregori growled, a low rumble of menace. His two companions just laughed disrespectfully, not in the least intimidated.

  “I’ll bet he’s a secret Rambo fan,” Savannah whispered confidentially.

  Gary nodded. “He probably sneaks into movie theaters for every old showing.”

  Savannah was really laughing now, the soft notes dancing in the air, contagious, infectious, beckoning all within hearing to join in.

  Gregori shook his head, pretending to ignore the two of them and their shenanigans. But he couldn’t help himself; he felt his heart lighten even as he scanned the hotel from the courtyard and knew they would soon be in another confrontation with dark, compulsion-driven members of the society. He stopped them abruptly, drawing them into the shadows of the building. “Someone is in your room waiting, Gary.”

  “You don’t even know which is my room,” Gary protested. “There’s a lot of people staying here. Let’s not make a mistake.”

  “I do not make mistakes,” Gregori said softly, his black-velvet voice very much in evidence. “Would you care to go up alone?”

  That was unnecessary, lifemate,

  Savannah reprimanded.

  And beneath you. You like this mortal, and it bothers you that he may be in danger. Perhaps it is your easy way with him that bothers me,

  he suggested silkily. His hand wrapped a length of braid around his fist and gave a tug.

  You’d like me to think that, but I am in your head, reading your growing affection for this man.

  Gregori didn’t want to admit she was right. Savannah was bringing him so far into her world, she was making him feel things uncomfortable for him. Mikhail had had a friendship with a human. Gregori had known he felt great affection for the man, yet Gregori had never understood it. Respected it, perhaps, but he did not understand it. Savannah had genuinely cared for Peter. Gregori didn’t dwell on that issue too much, but again, he found it hard to comprehend. Yet now, with Gary, in spite of himself, Gregori actually admired the mortal and didn’t want anything to happen to him.

  “Tell me what you want me to do,” Gary said almost eagerly. He was sick of bullies pushing him around.

  “You are going to walk in by yourself and fish for as much information as you can get before they try to kill you,” Gregori answered.

  “

  Try.

  I hope that’s the operative word,” Gary said nervously. “

  Try

  to kill me.”

  “You will not have to worry about yourself,” Gregori informed him, his voice utterly confident. “But it is necessary that the police do not come looking for you. That means no dead bodies in your room.”

  “Right, messy. If I have vampires and nut cases from the society hunting me, we don’t need the cops, too,” Gary admitted. He was sweating now, his palms so wet he kept rubbing them on his jeans.

  “Do not worry so much.” Gregori flashed a smile meant to reassure, the one that left vivid images of open graves. “I will be with you every step of the way. You might even have fun playing Rambo.”

  “He had a big gun,” Gary pointed out. “I’m going up there with my bare hands. I think it might be pertinent to say I’ve never won a single fistfight. I’ve been put in trash cans and toilets and had my face rubbed in the dirt. I’m no good in a fight.”

  “I am,” Gregori said softly, his hand suddenly on Gary’s shoulder. It was the first time Gary could remember the Carpathian voluntarily touching him out of camaraderie. “Gary is saying all these things,

  chйrie,

  yet he intended to go up against a man brandishing a knife with only his lab jacket for protection.”

  Gary blushed a fiery red. “You know why I was in the lab,” he reminded Gregori, ashamed. “I made a tranquilizer that works on your blood, and they turned it into a poison of some kind. We’ve got to do something about that. If something goes wrong tonight, and they get me, all my notes on the formula are in my laptop, too.”

  “This is beginning more and more to sound like a bad movie.” Gregori sighed. “Come on, you two amateurs.” He was impassive on the outside, but he couldn’t help laughing on the inside. “Do not worry about the formula. I allowed one of the members to inject me with it, so we know its components and are working on an antidote now.”

  “It didn’t work?” Gary was appalled. He had spent a tremendous amount of time on that formula. Although Morrison and his crew had perverted it, he was still disappointed.

  “You cannot have it both ways, Gary.” Exasperated, Gregori gave him a little shove toward the entrance to the hotel. “You should not

  want

  the damn thing to work.”

  “Hey, my reputation is on the line.”

  “So was mine. I neutralized the poison.” Gregori nudged him again. “Get moving.”

  Gary concentrated on remembering the code to the door of the small hotel, which was locked when no desk clerk was about. When the lock slid open, he turned around to grin in triumph, but the two Carpathians were gone, dissolved into thin air. He stood a moment, his heart beating fast, half in and half out of the entryway, hoping he hadn’t been deserted.

  Rambo.

  The name swirled in his head like a talisman. Determined, he marched down the hall to his room and inserted the key into the lock.

  As Gary pushed open the door, he felt a reassuring brush of something cold along his skin. It had to be Gregori pushing past so that his body was protecting the mortal’s—at least, Gary hoped that was what it was. In any case, it gave him added courage.

  Two men whirled to face him. The room was a mess. Drawers upended, his clothes scattered, even his books shredded. Gary stopped just inside the doorway. One of the men produced a gun. “Come on in. Shut the door,” he ordered tersely.

  After facing Gregori, no one could look menacing. Gary found he wasn’t nearly as afraid as he would normally have been. He closed the door carefully and faced the two strangers. They exchanged a quick look between them, clearly uneasy that Gary wasn’t visibly upset. They had been led to believe this would be an easy job.

  “Are you Gary Jansen?” the one with the gun asked.

  “This is my room. Perhaps you should introduce yourselves.” Gary glanced around at the mess. “Are you thieves, or were you looking for something in particular?”

  “We’re here to ask the questions. You called Morrison’s private number, said something was going on at the warehouse. When we got there, the place was going up in flames, and two of our people were dead. A vampiress was gone, taken to the hospital.”

  “Then you realize she was not really a vampiress. She was one of those poor kids who come out at night and play vampire because they like gothic stuff. It’s just a game to these kids. An attention-getter. It isn’t the real thing. You should know the difference between a kid playing games and the real thing,” Gary scolded.

  “Do you know the differe
nce?” the one with the gun asked, sudden insight making him suspicious.

  Gary looked around and lowered his voice in a conspirator’s whisper. “Tell me who you are first.”

  “I’m Evans, Derek Evans. I know you’ve heard of me. I work for Morrison. And this is Dan Martin. He’s the one you talked to on the phone the other day.”

  “You should have listened to me,” Gary reprimanded Martin. He pushed a hand through his hair and sank into a chair. “That girl was no vampire, and those two idiots had gone crazy. They weren’t serious about finding the real thing. They wouldn’t know the real thing if it bit them in the neck.”

  “But you would, wouldn’t you,” Martin said. “You’ve seen one.” In spite of himself, there was awe in his voice.

  “I tried to tell you, but you wouldn’t listen,” Gary said, shaking his head. “I told you to bring Morrison down to the warehouse. Where is he?”

  “He sent us to find you, Gary. He thought you had betrayed us.” Evans lowered the gun. “What happened in that warehouse?”

  “Before I tell you, I have to know whether Morrison and the society sanctioned killing that poor girl,” Gary said, keeping his tone very low.

  Martin risked a quick look at Evans. “Of course not, Gary. Morrison would never want an innocent hurt.”

  “And what of my formula? I developed a tranquilizer to aid our society members so that we could subdue a vampire, capture him, and study him, not cut one up into pieces. When I was approached about this, I was told that was the society’s ultimate objective. But my formula was tainted with poison. Morrison must have ordered it.”

  “Morrison is the vampire expert. He realized the tranquilizer would never hold anything that strong,” Martin supplied quickly.

  “It wasn’t just any poison,” Gary bit out. “It was designed to be painful. Morrison wants to kill the vampires, not study them. The poison is fast-acting, extremely virulent, and agonizing.”

  “He wants to talk to you. Come with us, Gary. Let him explain all this to you.” Martin added, “He sent us here to protect you. He was very worried after what happened in that warehouse.”