Dark Magic (40 page)

"You haven't seen my resume," Gary objected. "I'm not looking for charity."

The silver eyes glinted, a brief, hard humor. "I had your formula inside my body, Gary. That was all the proof of your genius I needed. The society had access to that blood for some time before you did, but none of them were able to come up with anything that worked on us."

"Great, I get that dubious pleasure. Someday you're going to introduce me to one of your friends and you can say, 'By the way, this is the one who invented the poison that is killing our people.'"

Gregori did laugh then, a low, husky sound so pure, it was beautiful to hear. It brought a lightness into Gary's heart, dispelling the gloom that had been gathering. "I never thought of that. We might get a few interesting reactions."

Gary found himself grinning sheepishly. "Yeah, like a lynching party with me as the guest of honor."

"We will have an antidote for all our people soon," Gregori reminded him softly. "There is no need to worry."

"If I had my equipment, I could have one immediately," Gary said. "I always make certain I can reverse whatever reaction I create. It wouldn't be all that hard to find where they perverted the formula. In fact, maybe you still have some lingering aftereffects in your bloodstream."

He looked so hopeful, Savannah burst out laughing. "The mad scientist is going to chase you around with a hypodermic needle, Gregori," she teased.

Gregori lifted an eyebrow, his face an unreadable mask, the pale eyes glittering with more than menace. White teeth flashed, a baring Of fangs.

"Maybe not," Gary conceded. "Not the best idea after all."

Savannah was up and moving with her sensuous grace to fit herself beneath Gregori's shoulder. She looked impossibly small next to the big Carpathian, delicate, fragile even. It wasn't so much Gregori's height but the rippling muscles, the thickness of his arms and chest, and the power emanating from him. Her face was turned up toward his, her soft mouth curved with laughter, in no way intimidated by him.

Gregori's arm swept around her and crushed her to him, nearly enveloping her completely. "She thinks I am going to take her on this ridiculous vampire hunt."

"She's right, too, isn't she?" Gary grinned at him.

"Unfortunately," Gregori admitted. "Do you have enough food until tomorrow night? We will have a plan of action by then." He dropped several large bills on the nightstand, hiding his actions from Gary as he did so.

"What plan of action? What can be done? We can't fight the whole society."

"I was thinking we could use you as bait and draw them into a trap," Gregori said, straight-faced.

Gary's eyes widened in alarm. "I'm not sure I like that plan. Sounds a little risky to me." He looked at Savannah for support.

Gregori shrugged his broad shoulders in a casual shrug. "I do not see a risk."

Savannah's small clenched fist thumped his stomach in retaliation. Gregori glanced down at her with surprise. "Is this when I am supposed to say ouch?"

Savannah and Gary exchanged a long, mournful groan. "Why did I want him to have a sense of humor?" she wondered.

Gary shook his head. "Don't be asking me. You created the monster."

"I know I would be unable to stand the press of human bodies in Preservation Hall," Gregori said suddenly, "but perhaps we could listen to the music from the street. It would get you out of here for a few hours and, with the severity of the storm, hopefully the tourists will have stayed inside."

Gary leapt at the chance to get out of his room. "Let's do it."

Savannah held back, her hand tightening on Gregori's arm. "Is it safe for him?"

Enfante,
I cannot believe you would doubt my ability to protect you and the mortal
.

The mortal? He has a name. He is easily killed, where we are not.

The silver eyes roamed over her face. His hand came up to caress her cheek, his thumb feathering gently back and forth. "I would not allow Gary to be in any real danger. He cannot live his life in hiding."

I should have protected Peter. He would be alive right now if it wasn't for me
. Savannah's voice was husky with grief, the unshed tears clinging to his mind.

I alone am to blame for Peter's death
, ma petite.
It was my responsibility to detect the vampire's presence. I had not felt any emotion in so long, so many centuries, and when I went into your show and saw you, colors nearly blinded me. Feelings overwhelmed me. I was sorting them out and trying to get my self under control. In all the centuries of my existence, it was the only time I have failed to detect the presence of the undead. Peter's death is something
I
must live with
.

He felt her instant denial of his assessment of the situation, the quick spring to his defense. And it warmed him as nothing else ever could.

As they moved out of the rooming house and through the rain-wet streets, mingling with the unexpected crowds, he thought about the way she made him feel. He was always in control—it was necessary for one of his power and predatory nature—yet she could make him feel as if he was spinning into orbit.

Gregori glanced down at the top of her silky head and allowed the emotion to wash over him, through him. Just watching her brought him a measure of peace and a flood of warmth. He found he could enjoy the upbeat music, even the craziness of the tourists laughing and crushing close in the streets and on the sidewalks. Merged with her, he could feel what she was feeling—carefree, her sense of humor, the quick interest she had in everything and everyone around her. She spoke to people easily, held them in the palm of her hand with the same ease she held him so captivated.

When he took her home after settling Gary back at his room, Gregori turned Savannah into his arms. "You are my world," he whispered softly, meaning it.

She leaned her head into his shoulder, inhaling his masculine scent. "Thank you for going out tonight. I know it's hard for you to be among humans, but I've spent the last five years living among them. It's been so long since I've had contact with any of our people."

"I have a hard time," he admitted. "I want to supply what you need, Savannah. It is difficult to understand the need in you for their company."

"You've always been so solitary, Gregori," she said softly, "where I've had humans around me since I left home."

His mouth found her temples, then drifted across her eyelids and down to her mouth. He lifted her as his lips teased hers, cradling her in his arms. He took her up the stairs to one of the bedrooms. Gregori made gentle, tender love to her, incredibly reverent, showing her with his body what he never seemed to be able to express adequately in words.

Chapter Seventeen

Lafitte's Blacksmith Shop was
dark
and mysterious, the perfect setting for the beginning of such a fun adventure. Savannah laughed softly as a couple of locals shook their heads at the pack of crazy tourists crowding into the tavern to join the vampire hunt. She could feel Gregori inwardly wincing, the desire to dissolve and be invisible paramount in his mind, but he hung in there grimly. He turned heads with his impressive stature, the power that sat so easily on his broad shoulders. His expression was stoically impassive, the silver eyes restless, merciless, missing nothing.

Within the bar's darkened interior, the peculiar night vision their species had gave them an advantage. Gary flanked them, astonished at how many tourists actually went on these hunts. Savannah shot him a glare. "We're here to have fun, Gary. Don't start acting like Gregori on me. One grump raining on my parade is enough."

Gary leaned close. "If you wouldn't read people's thoughts all the time, snoop, you might not get so bent out of shape."

"I was not reading your thoughts," Savannah objected with an injured expression, her lush mouth in a frankly sexy pout. "It was written all over your face."

Gregori was definitely having a hard time. Carpathian males rarely allowed other men near their lifemates, certainly not unattached males. He hated the press of bodies. Savannah attracted men the way bees went for honey. Heads turned, and hot gazes followed her progress as they wound their way through the throng toward the back room of the building. Savannah exuded steam. Even in a room filled with bodies, so many that there was really nowhere to sit, Savannah made men feel as if she was the only one there. Dimly lit, with flickering candles, the room held a faint trace of mystery, and she was part of that.

It was inevitable that someone would recognize her; it always happened. Gregori was surprised the press hadn't gotten wind that she was somewhere in the city and had every tourist spot staked out waiting for her. He gave a little sigh as the first wave of fans swarmed them, pressing close to Savannah, wanting to get near her. Gregori instinctively placed his solid frame between her and the crowd.
You are going to start a riot
.

She signed several autographs, a hard enough feat with Gregori acting like her bodyguard. Gary walled her in from the other side, recognizing the menacing glitter in the cold silver of Gregori's eyes. Savannah paid no attention to the two of them; instead, she was sweet and friendly and entered into conversations with people.

When their guide entered, a faint hush followed him. He was impressive, with his long, thick braid, his walking stick, and his dramatic appearance. Gregori raised an eyebrow at Savannah, but her fascinated gaze was on their host. He lit a candle, held his audience for a moment in a theatrical pause, then delivered a warning about the dangerous journey they would be undertaking. He made it clear that drinkers weren't welcome and emphasized that it was not recommended that small children go on the tour.

He's good, this guy
, Savannah whispered softly in Gregori's mind.
He grabs everyone right away and holds them. Good showmanship
.

He is a fake.

This isn't meant to be real, Gregori
, she scolded.
It is fun. Everyone is here to have a good time. If you prefer not to go, I can meet you later. It isn't as if it's really dangerous. We aren't going to meet any real vampires
.

Like hell I will meet you later. If I left your side, every man in the room would be swarming around you.

Gregori knew the moment the two society members entered Lafitte's Blacksmith Shop. He felt the dark compulsion of the kill, knew they were searching for a likely target. He scanned the darkened interior of the bar. The vampire was alive and well, and his dark army was spreading out to do his bidding. No one else could have known they would be here. He sighed. He had not realized until that moment how important a night out for Savannah was to him. A single night without incident.

He followed the group through the door, dropping money into the outstretched hand as he did so. Savannah was close to him, his hand on the small of her back. Three teenage boys were fluting outrageously with her, and her laughter turned heads and earned her the sudden attention of their host and the two society members.

Gregori watched them shift into position, trying to work their way through the crowd to her side, but it was impossible. He concentrated on them, dulling the compulsion, fogging their thoughts so that they found themselves entering into the spirit of the hunt Savannah ended up with a sharpened stake and a conspirator's grin from a fellow showman.

They started walking through the streets at a brisk pace, and as they did so, the crowd stretched out into a long line. Their guide stopped at a home, perched on a fence, and began a dramatic tale of love and murder within. He wove the story brilliantly, putting in enough truth mixed with melodrama to make it credible. Savannah's blue eyes were shining. As the crowd moved forward to follow the swirling cape of the fast-paced host, she bent down to fiddle with the strap of her shoe. Gregori felt her slip away from him and turned to wait for her.

Savannah smiled at him, that sexy, mysterious smile that hardened his body and tripped little bombs off in his head. Her hair slid over her shoulder in a fall of cascading silk. The sight of her literally took his breath away. By the time she fixed her shoe, the two society members were right beside her. Savannah straightened, and that infuriating smile curved her soft mouth. "Where are you two from?" Her voice was beautiful and pure, a blend of seduction and music. "I'm Savannah Dubrinsky. Isn't this fun?"

They felt her impact immediately, the mesmerizing snare. Gregori heard their hearts slam unexpectedly, then begin to race. Her blue eyes caught and held their gazes, trapping them in the silver-star centers. "Randall Smith," the shorter of the two answered eagerly. "I moved here several months ago from Florida. This is John Perkins. He's originally from Florida also."

"Did you come here for Mardi Gras and just stay for the fun?" Savannah inquired.

What the hell do you think you are doing
? Mon Dieu, ma femme,
you are enough to drive me crazy. I forbid this
.

Savannah fell into step between the two men easily, her enormous eyes wide with interest. Gregori felt the beast lifting its head, roaring for release. The red haze spread, and hunger beat at him.

"We came here to help out a friend of ours," Randall admitted. He began rubbing his suddenly pounding temples. His head was hurting and felt as if it might shatter.

Savannah leaned in closer, her eyes holding his captive. The crowd had once more stopped while their host began his tale of ghosts and unexplained mysteries. His voice cast a spell over the group, adding to the appeal of the story, to the haunting illusion of the night. Randall felt as if he were drowning in her eyes, as if she had trapped him forever in the illuminating starlight. He wanted to give her anything, everything. His head said no, but his wildly beating heart and raging soul needed to confess his every thought to her.

"We belong to a secret society," he whispered softly, his voice so low that only the two Carpathians could possibly hear. He didn't want his partner to know he was betraying the members. There was a curious buzzing in his head, like a swarm of bees. He broke out in a sweat.