What are you going to do? Savannah was anxious on Gary’s behalf. He had to live in the human world. That meant no suspicion could fall on him if the two men in his company were found dead.
No one will see Gary with the two puppets, Gregori said softly. I have been at this for a thousand years, chérie. This is the world I live in. I know it well. We will probably not be so lucky this night as to trap our prey, but it is worth the try.
They plan to kill Gary. Savannah was as adept as Gregori at reading the thoughts of those around her, and she could feel the malevolence seething just beneath the surface of the two men, particularly the one called Martin. He had been close to the vampire for some time, and the stench of evil was strong in him.
They are hoping for more information. Morrison wants to extract it himself, probably because he trusts no one. And he likes to see things in pain and terror. The thought came unbidden before he could censor it. Go home now. Savannah.
Don’t send me home yet. You might need me to get Gary out. I won’t wilt at the first sign of danger, I promise.
The two men were leading Gary toward the river. A boat was waiting, and Gary got in without hesitation. The water was choppy, the wind blowing hard. Gregori moved just above Gary to ensure that the dark compulsion of the kill did not overtake either man until they arrived at their destination. The ride seemed to take forever, and Gary was looking so pale, he was almost green. The ride had made him seasick. As he stepped off the boat into a little inlet in the bayou, he staggered.
Gregori steadied him, his arm slipping around his shoulders for a brief moment to reassure him. It was evident Gary was aware there was something wrong with the two men. He felt the mortal take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Gary was going to be all right He trusted Gregori.
Gary noticed immediately that Evans and Martin boxed him in as he walked along the marshy shore. Cypress trees rose out of the water, and a network of roots formed a macabre prison of stakes and weeping limbs. In the darkness they looked sinister. Tendrils of fog began to float toward them off the surface of the water, wisps of white that shrouded the bogs in an eerie iridescence.
There was a peculiar stench that rose off the embankment, a foul odor that permeated the air. Night insects seemed to be in great abundance, stinging bugs that dived and darted. Gary found himself slapping at the annoying things, trying not to hold his nose. The odor was putrefying, disgusting, like decayed meat rotting in the sun. His shoes were sinking into the bog, and he hesitated. Somewhere he had heard a man could sink under the marsh and be lost in the reeds and mud, deep within a sinkhole. Gary coughed and gagged, his body rebelling. Almost at once he could smell a fragrance, a hint of fresh air, a suggestion of wild flowers and forest. He almost believed he could hear the sound of water running over rocks. Savannah. He knew it was her touch, aiding him to get through the rotten stench.
The air was suddenly thick, hard to breathe. The wind ceased to blow, and for a moment there was total silence. Even the bugs stopped their incessant noise. The two men escorting Gary stopped, turned their faces toward the bog, and waited. Out in the darkness something moved. Something evil and cunning. A shadow spread over them, engulfed them. Again there was a sudden stillness, as if the shadow had hesitated before moving out into the open. A roar of rage and defiance filled the vacuum of silence with the thunder of a freight train.
Somewhere in the distance, snakes fell with a series of splashes into the water. Alligators slithered in the mud, the sound loud in the silence before they slid into water and disappeared beneath the murky depths. Martin shoved Gary unexpectedly from behind, sending him sprawling into the mud. His knees sank deep, almost to the thigh. Gary swallowed his fear and stood up slowly, facing the two murderous men.