“What is this? I thought I was meeting Morrison.” He spoke calmly.
“Morrison decided he didn’t need to talk to you,” Martin said.
Morrison senses your presence, Gregori said to Savannah. He is close. I can feel him, but I cannot pinpoint his exact location. This one is powerful; he has learned much in the centuries of his existence.
He warned his servants, she said, afraid for Gary. Already she was positioning her body in front of the mortal. He gave the order to kill Gary. You chase the vampire. I’ll protect Gary.
Gregori yanked her to the side, reinforcing the silent command with a hard push at her mind. He was taking no chances with her safety. It is not going to happen, Savannah, Gregori snarled, his fangs already exploding in his mouth.
The killing rage was on Martin, the darkness spreading like a stain through the night. He pointed the ugly little revolver at Gary’s heart. “Wade out into the river. I’m sure the alligators are hungry tonight.”
Gary shook his head sadly. “I feel sorry for you, Martin. You’re the pawn the king has sacrificed while he escapes. You never even knew that all this time you were hunting the vampire, he was the one directing every move you ever made.”
“I think I’ll kill you slowly, Jansen. I don’t like you,” Martin said.
“Don’t you see how he’s twisted you? You’ve become the very thing you despise. Six months ago, would you have even contemplated killing someone? Morrison’s done that to you,” Gary persisted, trying to save the man’s life.
Martin extended his arm, looking down the sights of the gun. Suddenly his expression changed to shock. The evil mask disappeared completely as he stared in horror at his own hand. The gun was swinging around to point at nun. He fought the thing, tried to drop it, but it stuck in his palm. “Evans! Help me!” Martin screamed, the sound echoing across the waters.
Gary stepped back, trying to tear his mesmerized gaze from the man who only moments earlier had tried to kill him. Martin’s arm was rising slowly toward his own head. “Evans!” He was shrieking it.
Evans lunged at Gary, tackled him, shoving him down into the mud and oozing muck. Pushing Gary’s face hard into the mire, Evans tried to suffocate him, scooping filth into the gasping mouth. The sound of the gun was loud in the night, traveling across the bayou and startling wildlife for miles. Evans didn’t look up to see the results, determined to kill Gary Jansen and leave his body to the alligators.
Gary thrashed violently, nearly dislodging him, but Evans hung on grimly, his hands finding and clamping around the exposed throat. A low growl warned him. He turned his head to see two red, fiery eyes staring unblinkingly only inches from his face. Startled, Evans released Gary and sank back onto his heels. At once he could make out the huge head of a wolf. Glossy black fur, sinewy muscles. The muzzle. White fangs. He screamed and threw himself backward toward the river, crawling to put distance between himself and the beast.
Gary was gasping for breath, muck in his eyes and mouth, unable to see anything. He could hear the hideous, repetitious screaming, the unearthly growls that raised the hair on the back of his neck, but he was blind, the black goo sealing his eyelids closed. Something huge brushed past him, something muscular, with fur. It smelled wild and dangerous. There was a tremendous splash in the water. The screaming escalated, then was cut off abruptly in mid-cry.
Savannah’s arm crept around his shoulders, and she was wiping at the mud with a soft cloth, trying to clear his vision while he used his finger to scoop the stuff from his mouth. “That was too close,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. Gregori wouldn’t allow me to help.”
Gary spat more muck from his mouth. “I’m not surprised.” The words were muffled by the goo, but she understood them all the same.
Savannah couldn’t look around her and see the death everywhere. Gregori’s world was bleak and ugly, filled with violence and destruction. She ached for him, ached for the terrible emptiness that would always have to be a part of his life. She knew that his keeping her away from it was more than a matter of her safety. Gregori might say that to her, even to himself, but deep inside, where it counted, in his heart, in his soul, he didn’t want the violence to touch her, to change who she was. It mattered to him that he protect her from such a fate. He was determined that she never would have the death of another on her hands.