“We’re close,” she pointed out gently. “I’m very fond of you, Peter, like a brother. I’ve always wanted a brother.”
“Don’t, Savannah. You haven’t even given us a chance. And who else do you have in your life? I escort you to parties and interviews. I oversee the accountant and arrange the bookings and make certain the bills are paid. The only thing I don’t do is sleep with you.”
A low growl rumbled warningly through the night, sending a chill spiraling down Peter’s spine. Savannah’s head went up, and she looked cautiously around. Peter stood, peering toward the trucks pulling away from the loading dock.
“Did you hear that?” He reached a hand down to draw Savannah to her feet, his eyes frantically searching every shadow. “I didn’t tell you, but the oddest thing happened during the show.” He was whispering as if the very night had ears. “After I put you in the vault, my throat closed off. It was as if someone had his hands around my throat, someone very powerful. I felt a murderous anger directed at me.” He pushed a hand through his hair and laughed nervously. “Silly imagination, I know. But I heard that exact same growl in my head. It’s insane, Savannah, but it felt as if I was being warned off you.”
“Why didn’t you say anything to me?” she demanded, fear in her eyes. Without warning the lights in the docking area blinked out, leaving them in total darkness. Savannah’s fingers tightened on Peter’s, and he had the distinct feeling they were being watched, even hunted. His car was a distance away, the parking lot shrouded in blackness. Where were the security guards?
“Peter, we have to get out of here. If I tell you to run, do it, and don’t look back, no matter what.” Her voice was low and compelling, enough so that for a moment he thought he would do anything to please her. But her small body, so close to his, was shaking, and chivalry won.
“Stay behind me, honey. I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Peter cautioned. Like all celebrities, Savannah suffered her share of threats and stalkers. She was worth a few million, not to mention the steamy, sexy image she exuded. Savannah had a strange, mesmerizing effect on men, as if the memory of her haunted them for eternity.
Savannah cried out in warning a heartbeat before something hit Peter hard in the chest, driving the air from his lungs, tearing her hand from his. He grunted, his chest on fire, feeling as if a ton of bricks had crushed him. His eyes locked with Savannah’s and he could see terror there. Something enormously strong caught at him, jerked him thirty feet backward, wrenching his arm from its socket, snapping bones like twigs. He screamed, feeling hot breath on his neck.
Savannah whispered his name, covered the distance between them in a single leap, and flung herself at his attacker. She was struck a blow across her face so hard that she was flung like a rag doll from the loading dock to the asphalt parking lot. Although she twisted agilely in midair and landed on her feet like a cat, her head was ringing, and white dots danced in front of her eyes. Before she could recover, the beast attacking Peter sank its fangs into his throat, ripped and tore, then gulped at the rich blood spurting from the terrible wound. Peter managed to turn his head, expecting a wolf or at least a huge dog. Red eyes glowed at him evilly from a white, skeletal face. Peter died in agony and terror, in fear and guilt for failing to protect Savannah.
With a low, venomous hiss, the creature carelessly tossed away Peter’s body, which landed a few feet from Savannah, blood forming a thick pool, spreading slowly across the asphalt. The beast lifted its head and turned toward her, grinning horribly, triumphantly revealing its jagged teeth.
She stepped back, her heart pounding in fear. Grief welled up so sharply for a moment that she couldn’t breathe. Peter. Her first human friend in her entire twenty-three years. Dead because of her.
She regarded the gaunt stranger who had killed him.