He bent his head and brushed her silky hair with his mouth, savoring the feel of her against his jaw, his skin. She was so small and delicate, so curved and soft. All heated satin and silk. He closed his eyes and pretended she loved him. That she could love him. A monster. Gregori. The Dark One.
Savannah heard the echo of his thoughts, the taunt of all Carpathian children to their friends. Who would come out of the night and turn them to stone? Gregori. The Dark One. The one with the power to heal—or destroy. In that echo she caught from Gregori a deep sorrow, a belief in the tightness of the cruel accusations against him. There was no bitterness, just acceptance.
She felt a stone on her heart, heavy and oppressive.
Very carefully, she closed the pinpricks at his throat and rested her head against his chest. She could hear his heart, strong and steady. Dependable. Mysterious. Sexy. Frightening. That was Gregori.
The hand in her hair closed for a moment, bunching long strands together into his fist; then, abruptly, he let go of her. Without looking at her, Gregori hauled the second of the humans to him, bent his dark head, and fed voraciously. When he had replenished himself, he allowed the man to sit down in the tall grass. He lowered the woman to join her companions.
Savannah stepped back uncertainly. Gregori hunkered down to check each human. He stared into their eyes, his hands gentle as he laid them carefully on the ground to recuperate. “They will be fine,” he said, unaware of the husky note in his voice. He straightened, then turned his head slowly to look at her with his glinting silver eyes. “You will not touch another male. Not of any species.” Each word was distinct and pronounced in a low growl.
“Don’t you think you’re overreacting, Gregori?” she ventured.
He stepped close and loomed over her so that the heat of his body enfolded her. “I would be unable to prevent myself from harming them.” The admission was made in his usual calm manner.
“I thought your claim on me removed all threats.”
“Evidently it brought about new ones. Until I am able to assess and control all that is happening to me, what you are causing me to feel, it is best if you do not defy my will.”
Her blue eyes darkened to violet and smoldered as she glared at him. “Your will? I should not defy your will? It isn’t like I’m given free will around you, Gregori. Don’t you always dictate how I should think and feel? I live only to please you.” She curtsied.
A growl rumbled in his throat. He reached for her and brought her up close to his body. “How I wish that were true. I think you live only to drive me crazy.”
“That could be arranged,” she said sweetly. “I have things I have to take care of, Gregori. They’re important to me.”
“Such as?” Those pale eyes burned over her upturned face.
“Peter. I have to take care of Peter. I’m his only family. He had no one else. And because of me, he’s dead. He was trying to protect me.” She crushed down the need to sob, to scream, to pound Gregori into the earth.
He was silent for a moment. “The police will want to speak with you. The story is probably already in the newspapers. Are you ready for the repercussions of that?”
She tilted her chin at him. “I loved Peter like a brother. I owe it to him.” Her hand swept through her hair in agitation. “I have to do this. I have to. Please, Gregori. Stand with me on this. I know I can’t fight you and win. I need this.”
Gregori swore eloquently and repeatedly in four languages. What Savannah needed was to be locked away safely, spirited out of this state—better yet, out of the country. The entire Peter Sanders affair was going to be a media circus. The police would already be scouring the city for her. Damn it to hell.
Without answering her, Gregori wrapped an arm around her waist and scooped her up. He went skyward, his normally tranquil thoughts in chaos, a jumble of unfamiliar emotions and a quicksand of indecision. He was always in total control. With his immense power, he had no other choice. But Savannah was turning him inside out. No, he couldn’t allow this. He wouldn’t. He didn’t care if she cried. If her enormous, magnificent eyes were sad and haunted. If her beautiful, perfect mouth drooped. She was not going to sway him from his path. His way was safe and responsible. Safety was the first issue, not her haunting eyes or her soft, satin mouth. Or her terrible sorrow.