Gregori’s senses were on the small group of men. He could see them clearly. He could hear their whispers, the swish of beer in the cans, the ebb and flow of blood in their veins. Fangs lengthened ominously. He ran his tongue along the sharp incisors, the ancient call to feed upon him.
Savannah tugged at his pocket, brought him to a halt. “I don’t like this, Gregori. Let’s get out of here.”
“Stay here.” He gave the order abruptly, his gaze drifting over her head to his prey.
“They want to fight with you,” she protested. “Just leave them.”
His hands caught her upper arms, and he bent his dark head to her, his pale eyes capturing her blue gaze. “Know me for what I am, Savannah. They think to threaten us. Perhaps if we leave, another couple will come along, and we will not be here to protect them. They want to test their strength, to intimidate, to rob. They have not worked themselves up to it yet, but the intent is there in their minds. I wish to feed, and your hunger beats at me. This I will do.”
“Fine, do it then,” she snapped, jerking away from him. “But they give me the creeps. And I want none of their blood.”
He pulled her back into his arms and found her throat with his mouth, his teeth scraping, teasing along her creamy skin. “You are so soft inside, ma petite, your heart is so gentle. It is good you have me.”
“You think,” she snapped, but her body was melting of its own accord into his. He was fire and ice, white-hot heat and electric excitement.
Gregori put her from him and turned back toward the cluster of men. They were whispering now, formulating their plan of attack. He moved toward them with his easy stride. They fanned out, thinking to overpower him in a rush.
“Do any of you know Beau La Rue?” he asked softly, startling them.
One man, on his left, cleared his throat. “Yeah, I know him. What of it?” He tried to sound belligerent. To Gregori he sounded young and scared.
“Are you a friend of his?” This time Gregori’s voice was pitched low, captivating them, ensnaring them, weaving a black-magic spell.
The man felt compelled to answer, to move forward, away from the safety of his friends. “Yeah, you have a problem with that?” he snarled, pushing out his chest.
Gregori smiled, a show of gleaming teeth. His eyes glowed hot and strange in the night. Come to me and allow me to feed. He sent the call, wrapped them in it, and drew them to him. He drank his fill from four of them, sating his bloodlust and the aching, gnawing hunger. He was not particularly gentle about it, and he allowed them to fall to the ground unaided and dizzy. He planted memories of a fight, one man against so many. They were all in pain, all knocked down and out. The friend of La Rue’s he saved for last, for Savannah. When he fed, he was far more careful, making certain the man would feel the need to thank Beau La Rue. He would thank him for saving him from the severe beating the others had received.
He gave Savannah no chance to protest his feeding her. He commanded her obedience, and she was blinking up at him with drowsy eyes before she was aware of what he had done. He saw awareness come, the smoldering heat heralding her temper. She shoved him away. “Imbecile.” One word. It should have crushed him, but he wanted to laugh.
Gregori caught her head in his hands and hugged her hard, joy exploding through him. Life was all around him. The night was theirs. He caught her up, and, cradling her in his arms, he launched himself skyward.
Gary nearly fainted when the couple materialized on the balcony outside his room. He slid open the door and gaped at them. “Are you nuts? Anyone can see you out there. Everyone’s room looks into the courtyard.”
Gregori swept past him and tossed Savannah unceremoniously onto the bed. She took a half-hearted swipe at him, then rolled over to glare at him as he paced across the carpet to Gary’s side. “No one can see us when we do not wish it,” he explained patiently, averting his gaze from Savannah’s perfect bottom. “Did you retrieve the list of names we need? Those under suspicion by the society?”