Read Dark Magic Online

Authors: Christine Feehan

Tags: #Vampires, #General, #Magicians, #Romance, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #New Orleans (La.)

Dark Magic (7 page)

He reentered his house and padded downstairs on bare feet. Once inside the bed chamber, he lit candles and ran a hot bath in the huge sunken marble tub. Then he gave the command for Savannah to wake. His body felt heavy, uncomfortable with his urgent need, but his gluttonous feeding had helped to take the edge from his bloodlust. He watched her face as her heart began to beat and her lungs began to expand with air. He knew the precise moment that she mentally scanned her surroundings and sensed the threat to herself, sensed immediate danger. Sensed his presence.

Savannah surprised him by sitting up slowly, shoving at the silken hair tumbling around her face. Her eyes fastened on his, enormous, beautiful. Her tongue darted out, touching her lips in apprehension.

If it was possible, Gregori's body tightened even more.

He looked powerful, intimidating, his face harshly sensual, Savannah noted in trepidation. His eyes burned with hunger, touched her, devoured her. And in spite of her resolve, in spite of her fears, she could feel her body taking on a life of its own. Heat spread slowly throughout her, bringing a torturous ache and a raging hunger. She could smell his masculine scent. The wild forest clung to him, giving up secrets. Her eyes flashed, sparkling stars in the midst of violet. "How dare you come to me with another woman's perfume clinging to you?"

A faint smile touched his mouth, easing the harshness in his face. "I merely fed,
ma petite
." Savannah was the most beautiful, sensual woman he had ever met. She might think she was in terror of him, but she certainly had no qualms about reprimanding him.

She glared at him, her long hair wild, her small fists clenched. "You call it whatever you like, Gregori, but you stay away from me smelling like her." She was furious with him. He insisted she was his lifemate, tried to force her into an eternity of hell with him, and he dared to come to her smelling of another woman? "Get out and leave me in peace." For some unexplained reason she felt close to tears at the thought of him betraying her.

His silver eyes warmed to caressing mercury and moved possessively over her slender figure. A frown touched his face. "You are weak, Savannah. I can feel it when our minds merge."

"Stay out of my mind. You certainly weren't invited." Her hands went to her hips. "And just for the record, your mind needs to be washed out with soap! Half the things you think we're going to do are never going to happen. I could never look at you again."

He laughed. Aloud. An actual, real laugh. It welled up unexpectedly and emerged low and husky, with genuine amusement. Gregori nearly leapt the distance between them and dragged her into his arms, grateful beyond imagining.

She flung a pillow at his head. "Go ahead and laugh, you arrogant jerk." She wished she had a two-by-four handy.

His eyebrows shot up. Another new experience. He had been called many things, but
jerk
was not one of them. His concern for her well-being overrode his intrigue, however. It even overrode the crouching beast within him so ready to possess her. "Why are you so weak,
ma petite
? This is not acceptable."

She waved his concern aside. "Is it acceptable for you to play around with other women?" She didn't stop to think why it infuriated her, but it did. "I've been taking care of myself for five years, Gregori, without your assistance. I don't need you, and I don't want you. And if I do have to have you around, a few rules are going to be followed."

His mouth twitched, but his gut clenched hotly, his body so hard, it was painful. Hunger rose, swift and sharp, and the beast inside him roared for release. Five years. He had had to give her those five years. God help them both if he had waited too long. "The bath is ready. You can tell me these rules while we relax in its warmth."

Her eyes widened. "
We
? I don't think so. You may be in the habit of bathing with women, but I can assure you, I don't bathe with men."

"That eases my mind," he replied dryly, amusement curling in his mind, but the urgency of his need building. "I have never bathed with a woman, Savannah, so the new experience should do us both good."

"In your wildest dreams."

"There is no need to be shy. We are both of the earth."

"Spare me the garbage, Gregori. I'm not going to bathe with you, and that's final."

His eyebrows shot up. All at once he looked the predator he was. No lazy amusement, no indulgence, but a hunter with eyes fixed unblinkingly on his prey.

Her heart stopped in alarm, then began to slam uncorofortably in her chest. The worst thing about it was, he could hear it. He knew he had scared her. That made her even more furious. Did he have to be so intimidating? Carpathian males were all enormously strong; they didn't need to look it. There was no need for his huge chest and bulging arms and thighs like oak trees. She had started out with bravado, determined not to be intimidated, but he was power personified.

"I am reading your mind," he mentioned softly.

She hated her traitorous body, the way it dissolved at the sight of him and the sound of his velvet, caressing voice. "I told you to stay out of my mind."

"It is a habit,
ma petite
?

She flung the other pillow at him. "Don't you dare bring up the wolf. I'm sure our laws forbade such a thing. You're a cad, Gregori, and you're not even sorry."

"Remove your clothes, Savannah."

The soft command had her gaze flying to meet and lock with his. She stepped back, staggered, and would have fallen if he had not moved with his preternatural speed to cover the distance between them. His arms swept her up and pinned her to him, his silver eyes slashing at her. "Why are you so weak?"

She pushed at the wall of his chest in a vain attempt to escape a mind search. He would be able to extract any information he desired quite easily. "You know I never touch human blood. While I was a child, it didn't seem to matter all that much, but over the last couple of years, there have been"—she searched for the word—"repercussions."

He remained silent, his unblinking gaze steady, compelling her to explain. And it
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 mat 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 forever. Power swept through him, total rapture. His body was wild, seeking more, ever more, to match the frenzied feeding of his mouth.

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