She became aware of the pain then. Of the throbbing ache. She turned on the light and stared down at her hand in disbelief. A dark black bruise circled the skin of her wrist.
Savannah's eyes widened. Slowly, she turned her hand over.
Two thin scratches marred the skin of her palm.
And, for just a second, she heard the echo of laughter in her mind. Low, vicious laughter.
CHAPTER 6
Every man has secrets. Dark, dangerous secrets.
-Entry from the diary of Henry de Montfort,
November 25, 1068
The moment the sun set, William's eyes flashed open. He jumped from the bed in a movement so quick it was little more than a blur.
Rage consumed him. How dare that bastard attack Savannah? How dare he? He would destroy him, once and for all.
He cocked his head, listening intently for any sounds in the manor above him. His acute hearing picked up nothing.
Where was Savannah? Why wasn't she in the house?
He sent his mind out, freeing his psychic power, as he searched for her. He could find no trace of her, no trace of the telltale warmth that usually characterized her presence.
He sighed. She was gone. She'd made her choice.
He walked slowly through the tunnel, up the winding staircase and into the house. He traveled through each room, checking carefully just in case he'd missed her. Just in case she was there.
The house was empty.
He stood in the great room, and with a wave of his hand, he sent the fire blazing. He stared into the flames, not really seeing them. Instead, he saw her.
Savannah. With her fiery mane of curls and beautiful eyes. Her passion. Her strength.
He couldn't blame her for leaving. His hands clenched. He understood, really. Why would she want to tie herself to a monster?
He lifted his hand toward the flame. He could feel the warmth on his cold skin. It reminded him of Savannah. For a brief time, she'd brought warmth back into his cold existence. For too brief a time…
He closed his eyes. And heard the sound of an approaching car in the distance. Was it her? Was she coming to him?
His mind sought hers. He felt her instantly. Her warmth. The soothing touch of her spirit. The feel of her almost drove him to his knees.
He took a step forward and then stopped. She would have to come to him. It must be her decision.
So he waited, listening to the quiet purr of the car's motor, to the crunch of gravel beneath the tires.
Slowly, ever so slowly, the car neared the house. He could hear them, hear the driver, an older man with a New York accent, talking to Savannah. He heard her soft, quiet responses.
The car stopped at his gate. His mind flashed, and the heavy iron doors swung open instantly. He felt the driver's surprise, felt the man's fear.
William heard Savannah open her door and step out of the car. He heard her as she began to walk toward the house. He heard her as her heart began to pound, louder, harder. Then she was at the door.
His muscles strained, but he didn't move. She must come to him. She must! Even though he longed to go to her.
Her hand knocked against the wooden door, her knuckles scraping lightly. The wind howled, sending the door crashing open. Savannah gasped, the sound traveling easily to him.
So close. She was so close now. Barely twenty feet away from him. He could smell her. Lavender. He could almost taste her.
She took a deep breath, the sound a mere whisper. And she stepped forward. Her tennis shoes squeaked softly on the wooden floor. One step. Another. Closer. Another step. So close. His entire focus was on her.
She stood at the threshold of the great room. He turned slowly, hungry for the sight of her.
Her eyes, bright and clear, met his. She didn't say a word.
She was here. He'd told what would happen if she was at the house. «If you're still here, then you'll be mine. Forever.» The words whispered through his mind.
Savannah dropped a small duffel bag onto the floor. Then she rubbed her hands down the front of her jeans.
William's gaze followed her nervous movement.
«I've chosen,” she said softly.
The husky timbre of her voice sent desire shooting through him. He wanted to go to her, to take her into his arms and crush her against him. Instead, he waited, barely moving, desperately needing her to say the words that would bind them together.
«You have to transform me, and you have to help me get justice for my brother and his wife.” She licked her lips and took a quick breath. “In return, I'll be your companion, forever.»
His companion. His body tightened. “Forever is a long time, Savannah. How do I know that you won't change your mind?” That she wouldn't leave him one day, leave him as his brother had left him centuries ago? Could he trust her? He hadn't trusted another person since his transformation.
Her chin lifted. “I give you my word. I'll stay with you.»
«As my mate?” he pressed, a muscle clenching along his jaw.
She flushed. “Yes…»
He walked toward her, taking his time, studying the emotions that flashed across her face. Anger. Fear. He stopped barely an inch away from her. His hands lifted, curling around her and pulling her against him. “A kiss,” he whispered, “to seal the bargain.»
Her lips trembled, then parted. He lowered his head and locked his mouth upon hers.
She was as sweet as he remembered. The taste of her was so pure, so rich. His tongue slid past her lips, sliding gently into the warmth of her mouth. She met him eagerly, leaning forward into his touch, his kiss.
He swirled his tongue against hers and tasted her, lightly, softly, as if she were a fine wine. And, like a wine, he knew that he could all too easily get drunk from the taste of her.
His arms wrapped around her, pulling her tightly against him. She felt so good. So soft and yielding.
He slid his hands under the edge of her shirt. Her back was smooth, incredibly soft. His fingers caressed her spine, moving lightly up the edge of her back. She felt so delicate, so fragile. Yet she met his kiss with a passionate force that stunned him.
His hand slipped around the edge of her shirt, moving to rest just below the curve of her breast. He wanted to cup her in his hand, to feel her nipple tighten against his fingers. He wanted to take her into his mouth. To suck her. To lick her.
His fingers traced a light pattern on the top of her lacy bra. Her nipple tightened in response. He growled.
Savannah wrenched herself away from him. She took a step back, breathing heavily.
His jaw clenched. He could feel his teeth, burning sharply against his gums. The beast had been roused. “Backing out of our bargain already?” His voice was guttural.
Savannah's eyes were wide, deep pools of mystery. She swallowed once and shook her head. “Before we go any further, I have to know…»