How had she known about Panama City and Atlanta? He thought that he'd covered his presence well in those cities. Yes, he'd known that Geoffrey was out of control, that he was out to kill, to destroy everyone that he could. “I knew.” Simple, flat.
«And you didn't stop him?” She shoved against him, pushing with all of her strength against his chest. He didn't move. “Why didn't you stop him, you bastard? Why?” She shoved him again.
William caught her hands, easily holding them within his grasp. He opened his mouth to reply, but closed it instead. He should have stopped Geoffrey. He should have stopped him years ago. He was responsible for the evil that his brother had wrought.
«He killed Mark. He killed Sharon, and God knows how many other people! If you knew what he was doing, why didn't you stop him?»
He'd tried. He'd tried to stop Geoffrey. He'd tried to stop him on that bloody battlefield in France. They'd fought for hours, until their bones were broken, until their strength was all but gone. He'd had the stake against Geoffrey's heart. He'd been seconds away from ending his brother's life. And then he'd looked into his brother's eyes…
And seen Henry staring back at him.
For a moment, he'd lost his focus, his strength.
A moment was all the time that Geoffrey had needed. Geoffrey had knocked William aside and fled as fast as he could.
William had been tracking his brother since then, following him around the globe. Finding dead bodies in every city, but never arriving in time to stop his brother.
«I was too late,” he finally told Savannah. “Each time, I was too late.” The memory of Geoffrey's victims burned him. He could still see them, see their blank eyes and white bodies. See the fear etched on their frozen faces.
Those faces would haunt him for eternity.
«Each time?” Savannah swallowed. Her lips trembled faintly. “Do you mean you were there? When he was killing, you were there?»
Ah. There it was. The fear. The revulsion. He'd known it would come. He turned from her, not wanting to face that look, not wanting to see her condemning gaze. “You have to understand. He's as old as I am, as strong as I am. I've been tracking him for centuries. Whenever I would get close, when I thought that I had him, he'd slip away. And there would be another trail of blood for me to follow.” William knew that Geoffrey had deliberately left many of his kills for him to find. It was yet another way his brother enjoyed tormenting him.
«We have to stop him.” Her voice was soft, but firm. “We can't let him hurt anyone else.” She touched his shoulder lightly.
William spun around. He couldn't believe that she would want to speak to him, much less touch him, after knowing the truth.
«We have to stop him,” she repeated softly, staring up at him with a solemn gaze.
«We will.” It was a vow. William would not rest until Geoffrey had been destroyed.
A faint line marred her brow. “Will you be able to do it?»
He nodded. He would do whatever was necessary to stop Geoffrey.
«Are you certain?” Savannah asked. “Will you be able to destroy your brother?»
A wave of sadness washed through him. He'd done it before. “I'll do what must be done.” And he meant it. There was no way that he would allow Savannah to be hurt by his brother.
She touched his cheek. Her fingers felt soft against him. “You've had so much sorrow in your life. So much pain,” she said.
He said nothing. No one had ever offered him sympathy before. No one had cared.
«I'm sorry, William.»
She was sorry? His brother was terrorizing her, had killed her family, and she was apologizing to him?
«I wish…” A sad smile curved her lips. “I wish your life had been different.»
For a thousand years, he'd prayed for a different life. But God had long ago turned his back on him. “Don't waste your time wishing. You can't change what is.” He stepped back from her, suddenly needing to have some space between them. Needing to escape from the sympathy, from the pity, he saw in her eyes.
«I'll help you. I'll transform you and teach you everything that you need to know about a vampire's strength. We'll find Geoffrey, and we'll destroy him. You have my promise.” His gaze traveled over her body, down from her beautiful face to her high, firm br**sts. Slowly, so slowly, his gaze lowered, dropping to her slender hips and her long, long legs. “In return, I want what you've promised me.” He didn't want her sympathy. He wanted her body, hot and needy, straining against his. “I want you.” Now. In front of the blazing fire.
Savannah lifted her chin. “I've given my word. I won't back down.»
He smiled, showing his fangs. “Good. Then let's begin…»
CHAPTER 7
William has been sent on a devil's mission.
I pray he returns to me in time…
-Entry from the diary of Henry de Montfort,
November 30, 1068
Savannah wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her fear. She hid her trembling hands behind her body and faced him, her stare direct. “I'm ready.»
He laughed softly, the sound dark and sensuous. The sound wrapped around her, sliding through her. She took a deep breath.
He began to walk around her, inching his body ever closer to hers. She could smell him. The scent of man. Of dark nights and mystery.
He was studying her, his hot stare traveling over every inch of her body.
«You're not ready,” he whispered, moving to stand directly behind her. She could feel his breath tickling the delicate skin of her neck. He leaned forward, putting his mouth next to her ear. “Not yet. But you will be.»
He pulled her hair to the side, exposing the skin of her throat. He blew gently against her nape, and a shiver slid through her body. She closed her eyes, trying to shut him out, to block her own rioting emotions. Was he going to do it now? Was he going to claim her body now?
She felt his lips, moving lightly against her skin. His tongue, licking her neck ever so delicately. She moaned, the sound slipping past her lips before she could stop it.
His arm, a band of steel, circled her waist and pulled her back against the hard cradle of his body. She could feel him, feel the rigid length of his desire pressing against her hip.
She took a deep breath, and arched against him.
This time, he was the one who moaned. The sound was low, ragged, full of need.
«Sweet Savannah,” he whispered, licking her vulnerable throat. “I want to taste you, all of you.»
His hand moved under her shirt, pushing the soft cotton aside as he stoked the skin of her stomach. “You're so soft. Like silk.»