“He is,” Savannah said. “William’s a vampire.”
“Your eyes! Your teeth!” Jake began to breathe heavily. “You’re a freaking vampire!”
William’s lips twitched. “You’re certainly observant, Detective.”
Savannah frowned at Jack, vaguely concerned. He sounded like he might be having an asthma attack. “Are you all right?”
“Fine.” He gasped. “Just.” Gasp. “Great.” He breathed deeply, inhaling and exhaling. He looked a bit like a fish that had been jerked out of his nice, comfortable home in the water. “I don’t believe this,” he whispered. “I don’t believe this!”
“Believe it.” William’s eyes glowed.
“But vampires aren’t real.”
“Trust me.” William smiled, showing his fangs. “I’m very real.”
Jack’s body swayed.
Uh-oh. Savannah bit her lip. It looked like the good detective might pass out at any moment. “Jack? Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Dandy. Just freakin’ dandy.” He closed his eyes and exhaled. He stood there a moment, not saying a word, just breathing. In. Out. In. Out.
Savannah frowned.
His eyes snapped open. He pointed at William. “You’re a vampire.”
“Guilty.” Mocking, cold.
Jack’s lips thinned. “And the guy out there killing people, he’s a vampire, too?”
Savannah thought he appeared to have his focus back now. Good. Maybe he could help them, after all. “That’s why all of the blood was drained from the victims. He was feeding.”
Jack asked, “I’ve been talking to a vampire? My client was a vampire?”
“Yes,” she said.
Jack squared his shoulders. His breathing was still erratic, but he appeared to be regaining control. “You’re right. The cops can’t help.”
Savannah looked up at William. “When do you think he’ll come?” She wanted to be ready. She had to be ready.
William didn’t immediately reply. He cocked his head to the side, almost as if he were listening to something. Or someone.
“William?”
He shook his head, his gaze focusing on her. “Soon. He’ll come as soon as he can.”
“We have to be ready.”
“Ready?” Jack shook his head. “We’ll be ready when we get the hell out of here.”
“No,” William disagreed softly. “Savannah’s safer here than she would be anywhere else.”
Jack looked doubtful. “No offense, but, I got to her. And if I could get to her, then I am damn sure he could get to her.”
William stiffened. He peered down at Savannah. “How, exactly, did the good detective get to you?”
It was Jack who answered. “It wasn’t hard. She was alone, walking in the woods. If I’d been the killer, she would be dead now.”
Savannah shot to her feet. She ran toward Jack, pushing her finger against his chest. “You’re lucky that you’re not dead!” It infuriated her that he thought she was so defenseless. She could protect herself.
He grabbed her hand. “Come on, Savannah. You’re not strong enough—”
His words ended on a yell as Savannah pulled his arm forward and effortlessly flipped him to the floor.
“My mistake,” he managed, staring up at the ceiling. “You might not have been dead, after all.”
“I’m a black belt,” she told him, her eyes fierce. “I can take care of myself.” She’d learned, over the protests of her doctors, to defend herself. She had wanted to prove to them, to her family, and to herself, that she could be strong. That she was strong.
William’s fingers came up, wrapping lightly around her throat. His breath blew gently against her skin. “I’m impressed,” he murmured “But I’m afraid that your skills won’t be enough to stop Geoffrey.”
She knew that. She could send Jack crashing to the floor, but she wasn’t physically strong enough to defeat a vampire. Not yet.
But when she had the third bite, she would be.
Jack pushed himself to his feet. He winced, rubbing his back. “I don’t know who I’m more afraid of,” he said, staring at Savannah. “You and your boyfriend or the killer.”
“It’s not us you should fear,” William said. “Geoffrey is going to come after you, too. He’s not going to let you live. You know too much.”
Jack paled. “Kelly,” he whispered.
Savannah frowned. “Who?”
He swore, running a shaking hand through his hair. “Kelly Taylor. My fiancée. He knows about her. The bastard mentioned her name the last time we talked.”
Savanna’s stomach clenched. Geoffrey wouldn’t have mentioned the woman’s name unless—
“He’s going to kill her.” Jack looked sick. “He’s going to kill my Kelly, isn’t he?”
“Go to her.” William ordered, his eyes unfocused, staring within. “Take her out of the country. Take her as far away as you can.”
“But you said he’ll follow.”
“No,” Savannah whispered, knowing she spoke the truth. “He’s going to come after me first.” And he would. Jack and his Kelly would be a bonus. Geoffrey would first attack her and William.
But they would be ready for him. They would stop him.
“Go. Protect your woman.” With a wave of his hand, William sent the balcony doors crashing open. He looked down at Savannah. “And I’ll protect mine.”
Chapter Nine
There is no place to hide. The devil sees all.
—Entry from the diary of Henry de Montfort,
December 5, 1068
HE HADN’T LIKED seeing the other man near her. The beast within had raged, demanding he punish the man who’d dared touch what belonged to him. He’d only been able to maintain his control because of her. Savannah.
She stared at him now, her eyes deep emerald pools of mystery. What was she thinking? Was she afraid of Geoffrey? She had to know that he would protect her.
He took her hand within his own, marveling at the delicacy of her bones. “There is nothing to fear. Geoffrey will not hurt you.” He would make certain that Geoffrey never hurt her again.
“What about Jack? Will he be safe?” Worry clouded her gaze.
“We’ll stop Geoffrey,” William promised. “We won’t let him hurt Jack. We won’t let him hurt anyone else.”
“Are you going to give me the kiss tonight?” Savannah asked suddenly.
William hesitated. He wanted, more than anything else, to give her his kiss. He wanted to transform her, to make her his mate for all eternity. But he couldn’t, not yet. He could feel the weakness emanating from her.
If he tried to convert her now, he couldn’t guarantee that she would survive. It was a chance he wasn’t willing to take.
“Not yet,” he said softly. “Not yet.”
“When?” It was a demand.
He walked toward the door. “When you’re strong enough. Now, come with me, I have something for you.”
She didn’t move. “You could try saying please, you know. It’s considered proper manners.”
He stopped at the door and glanced back over his shoulder. His eyes met hers. “Please come with me.”
Her full lips curved. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” She walked toward him, and he could have sworn that he saw a sparkle of mischief dance in her eyes. “You have to remember that you aren’t on a battlefield anymore. You can’t just boss people around.”
“I’ll remember that,” he murmured, inhaling her sweet scent as her body brushed past his. Need slammed through him, sudden and sharp. He wanted to taste her, to slip his tongue into the warmth of her mouth. It had been hours since he’d last held her. Since he’d felt her shuddering in his arms.
“What do you wan
t to show me?” She walked down the hall, oblivious to the struggle going on inside him.
He took a deep breath, grabbed his self-control with both hands, and followed her. “You’ll see. It’s a surprise.” After he’d left Savannah in her bed, he’d gone out to pick up the items for her. He’d raced against the sun, determined to return home with her supplies.
He followed her down the stairs, and when she turned to enter the great room, he captured her wrist and pulled her down the narrow hallway.
“I don’t think I’ve ever come this way,” she said.
He knew that she hadn’t explored his home. He wished she would. She could go anywhere she wanted. After all, it was to be her home, too. He didn’t want her to feel like a guest. He wanted her to feel like she belonged.
Like she was home.
He tried to make her understand. “My home is yours. Feel free to explore to your heart’s content.”
They approached a white swinging door. William pushed the door open and ushered Savannah inside.
“What—” Her eyes widened in delight at the sight of the gleaming kitchen.
The kitchen was huge. There were two double ovens, a gleaming chrome refrigerator and freezer, and an assortment of gadgets on the marble countertops. A large island sat in the middle of the room. And, toward the back of the room, a cozy table for two had already been set.
She opened the refrigerator, gazing in surprise at the assortment of food inside.
She frowned, still leaning inside the open door. “I don’t understand. I didn’t think you needed food.” She closed the door slowly, staring up at him.
“I don’t.” He could survive on blood alone. Many of his kind chose to do that. “The food is for you. I picked it up before dawn.”
She blinked and a red flush stained her cheeks. “You got all of this for me?”
He shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. “You need to eat,” he muttered. “You have to regain your strength.”
She waved her hand to indicate the appliances. “What about all of those? Where did they—”
“I said that I didn’t have to eat. Not that I couldn’t.” After five hundred years, he’d begun to long for the taste of something other than blood. He’d discovered that he could still eat human food, as long as he ate in moderation. “I don’t eat often, but I do eat.” He shrugged. “Besides, if someone were to come to the house and see that I didn’t have a kitchen . . . let’s just say that might raise a few questions.”
A wry smile lit her face. “I could see where that might pose a problem.” She opened the refrigerator and reached inside, pulling out ham and turkey. “I think I’ll have a sandwich.” She looked at him inquiringly.
He took a step back. “No. I have something.” He motioned to the table where a thick glass was filled with a blood-red liquid.
Savannah swallowed. “I’m guessing that’s not wine.”
He almost smiled. “No, it’s not.”
She squared her shoulders and turned back to her food. She grabbed a loaf of bread and began creating her sandwich. When she was finished, she walked to the small table, carrying her plate carefully. Her gaze drifted to his drink.
William sat down. His brows lifted. “Would you rather I not drink now?”
She took a deep breath. “No, go ahead.” Her smile was weak.
William moved his glass to the side, putting his hands in front of him. He wanted Savannah to eat first. He knew she needed the energy the food could provide, and he was afraid that if she saw him drink, she wouldn’t be able to eat.
“Tell me about your life,” he said, deliberately pitching his voice low. He knew a compulsion wouldn’t work on her, but he still might be able to use his powers to soothe her.
Her fingers toyed with the table cloth. “What do you want to know?” She wasn’t touching her sandwich. Or the glass of orange juice that he’d set out for her.
“Anything.” Everything. Every detail of her life. “I know you lived in Seattle. Did you like it there?”
Her shoulders seemed to relax. “Oh, yes. I mean, it rained all the time, but I like the rain. Everyone there was always so busy. The city seemed to be alive with people.”
“Have you ever lived anywhere else?”
She shook her head. “No. I was born and raised there. My mother was from the south, though. From Georgia. That’s why she named me Savannah.” She picked up her sandwich and took a small bite.
“I haven’t heard you mention your parents before,” he murmured, his gaze sharp.
Sadness swept across her face. “My parents are dead. They were killed in a car accident a little over four years ago.”
“I’m sorry, Savannah.” That would have left just her and her brother.
“Mark took care of me,” Savannah said, seeming to read his mind. “He’s the one who took me to the hospital each time. He held my hand. He told me everything would be all right.” She bit her lip. “But it wasn’t all right. The cancer just came back. And then he died.”
He ached for her, for all the pain that she had endured in her short life. He wished that he could take it all away from her. The burden that her slender shoulders carried was far too heavy.
“His death wasn’t your fault, Savannah.” He could see into her mind, her heart. The second exchange had linked them, and he could read her all too easily.
“Wasn’t it?” She wasn’t eating anymore. One bite, that’s all she’d had.
“You can’t believe it was your fault!” he said in disbelief. “Geoffrey killed him. And Geoffrey is the one who will pay, I promise you. Stop blaming yourself. There’s nothing to be gained from it.” He reached for her hand. “Haven’t you punished yourself enough?”
She stared at their locked hands. “I should have helped him. He helped me, protected me, for years. I should have done something for him.”
“You will do something.” His fingers tightened. “You’ll give him justice. And you’ll stop Geoffrey from ever hurting anyone else.”
She nodded. “Yes, I will.” Her free hand reached for the sandwich.
He made certain that she ate it all, and then one more. He deliberately kept the conversation light, telling her of the different countries he’d traveled to, of the wonders he’d seen.
When he mentioned Italy, her face seemed to light up. “I’ve always wanted to go to Italy,” she said, reaching for her juice. “Is it as beautiful as I’ve heard?”
He stared at her. “More.”
She sighed, swirling her drink. “I wanted to be an artist, back when I thought the world was mine and I could do anything, be anything, that I wanted.” Her lips twisted, seeming to mock her youthful dreams. “I planned to go to Europe. I wanted to see the Sistine Chapel. I wanted to paint the canals of Venice. Silly, isn’t it?”
“No, it’s not silly at all.” He tried to think back, to see what dreams he’d had as a youth. All he could remember was blood and death and battles that never ended.
He reached for his glass. “We must plan a trip to Italy.”
Her breath caught. “Truly? Do you mean that?” He could hear the hope and excitement in her voice.
“Of course.” He smiled. “After all, we’ll have plenty of time.”
She seemed to absorb his words. “I guess we will.” She shook her head. “It’s strange. For so long, I’ve known that my time here was short. Limited. And now, to know that I won’t die—” She smiled, her eyes shimmering. “It just doesn’t seem real.”
He drank from his glass, and the blood slid down his throat. He knew his eyes flared red at the delicious taste.
Savannah stopped smiling. “And then sometimes it seems all too real.” She looked away, staring fixedly at the large freezer in the back of the room.
William finished his drink, never ta
king his gaze from her. “Would you rather I took the blood from a living man? That I tore open his throat and drank his blood?”
“Of course not!” Her gaze flew back to him. “How can you even ask that?”
He held up his empty glass. “I use this so I don’t have to hunt. So I don’t have to go out every night and drink from someone.” So he didn’t have to stare into his victim’s eyes.
A faint line marred her forehead. “But you were going to drink from Slade—”
He carefully set his glass down on the tabletop. “At least once every full moon, I must have fresh blood. If I don’t, my strength weakens.” But when he fed, he held himself tightly in check, always aware that if his control broke, he could easily kill his prey.
“So I will need fresh blood, too.” Her face looked very pale, very delicate.
“Yes. You’ll have to drink in order to survive.” He waited a beat then asked, “Will you be able to do it?”
Her gaze darted to the empty glass and then to his lips, which he knew would be blood red. She set her shoulders and lifted her chin. “I’ll do what I have to do. I might not like it, but I’ll do it.”
William smiled, relief sweeping through him. “Don’t worry. I’ll show you how to take the blood. You won’t hurt those you drink from, and with a small compulsion, you can make your victim forget the entire encounter.”
“I’ll have a lot to learn, won’t I?”
“I’ll teach you. I’ll teach you everything that you need to know.” And he would. He would make certain that Savannah fully understand her new powers. He pushed his chair back, stood, and walked toward a heavy metal door on the far side of the room. He pulled a large, silver key out of his pocket and inserted it into the lock.
Savannah moved to stand behind him. “What’s in there?”
“Your first lesson.”
Savannah stepped forward, only to come up short at the sight of a long, winding staircase. She peered down, trying to see the bottom. She saw nothing but darkness. “What’s down there?”
“Why don’t you go down and find out?” His words challenged her, and his hands pushed gently against the small of her back.