Dark Magic. Christine Feehan. Dark Series – book 4

But these puppets were still very dangerous. They were enormously strong, cunning, and difficult for the ordinary Carpathian male to kill. Nearly impossible for humans. He winced, imagining Savannah trapped by these two abominations. She was a fledgling, incapable of killing these creatures. Maybe he should have killed them from a distance—Gregori had long ago learned every art of killing in his world and that of the humans—but he wanted to ensure that no others were caught in their battle. And he wanted the vampire who had sent them to understand he was picking up the gauntlet. Gregori. The Dark One.

The boat had jammed in some tree roots thrusting up out of the dark, murky waters. Gregori made no attempt to hide from the zombies. He waited, his body relaxed, the fog curling around his legs. The light mist fanned his face and spread like a fine blanket across the night.

The two puppets awkwardly climbed from the boat, splashing water in all directions. Gregori inhaled, felt the sudden disturbance in the air. The vampire thought his trap was sprung. All Carpathians could detect one another when they were within a certain range. The vampire must have known the moment Savannah had entered his domain, but he had not detected Gregori’s presence. Gregori walked among his own people unseen when he wished it. Cloaking himself had become as natural to him as breathing. The vampire, who had run from Julian, clearly thought he was dealing with a lesser Carpathian. A novice.

The two huge ghouls were clumsily making their way up the embankment. Twice the red-haired man fell into the water, sending droplets spraying while he tried to regain his footing. The two zombies separated, moving in from either side.

Know this, evil one. Gregori sent out the strong mental call. He felt the sudden hesitation in the air as the vampire became aware that the heavy fog, the unusual mist, and the boiling clouds were not a natural phenomenon. The vampire held back, worried. The elements were perfectly recreated and few could produce such a work of art. You have issued your challenge to me, and I have accepted. Come to me. Gregori’s voice was low and mesmerizing. Beautiful. There was no other like it. And none could resist when he chose to wield its deadly power.

The vampire fought the compulsion, the hypnotic order, but his frame wavered out in the fog above the water. His face was a twisted, evil mask, eyes glowing red, receding gums revealing jagged, sharp teeth. Talons curled on his hands, razor-like and wicked looking. He hissed venom, frightened and furious that one could call such as he forth against his will. There was nowhere to hide from the voice; it whispered, and he was forced to emerge fully into solid form, unable to continue an illusion.

For centuries he had been a bloated spider, weaving his evil web, keeping a low profile and running when it was necessary. “Gregori, I cannot believe one such as you would choose to hunt so meager an opponent as myself,” he said, fawning and simpering as if they were old friends.

“Are you calling yourself Morrison these days?” Gregori’s pale eyes shifted to the zombie on his left, inching closer, his every moment carefully orchestrated by the vampire. “When we were young, you were Rafael. You disappeared some four hundred years ago.”

The jagged teeth, stained brown from centuries of consuming human, adrenaline-based blood, flashed in a grotesque parody of a smile. “I went to ground for nearly a century. When I rose, the world was much changed. You were the Prince’s sanctioned killer, feeding on our kind. I left our homeland, driven out by your fever, by your own bloodlust. This is my sanctuary now, my home. I have not asked for more. Why do you come here uninvited to plague me?”

Gregori began to focus on the air itself, to build the charge he needed, gathering it into a ball of crackling, fiery energy just out of sight in the cauldron of clouds. “You do not own this city, Rafael, nor can you dictate to me where I can and cannot go. You put your servants on Savannah’s trail. You knew she was my lifemate, yet you deliberately sought her. I can think of no other reason than you wished your centuries of depravity over. You were seeking the dark justice of our people.”

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151

Leave a Reply 0

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *