«What?” What did she need to know? Didn't she already know all of his secrets? What more could she possibly want? Must he lay bare before her? Anger burned through him. He grabbed her arm and pulled her body back against his, forcing her to feel the lust that burned him. “Our bargain is set, sweet fairy. There is no going back now.»
«I know,” she said, her voice low, almost sad. Her gaze met his. “I don't want to go back.»
He held onto his control, refusing to give the beast within his freedom. William took a deep, shuddering breath. He would have Savannah. Soon.
He studied her carefully, searching her face. “What is it that you want to know?»
She held her hand up, her palm facing him. Two thin red scratches ran the length of her hand. William stiffened at the sight.
«What happened to me today? It wasn't a dream.” Her hand clenched. “Dreams don't hurt you.»
Some dreams did. It was a lesson that William had learned long ago.
«Tell me what happened,” Savannah demanded. “I need to know. I have to know.»
And she had the right to know. He knew that she did. But he didn't want to tell her. He didn't want to see the anger, the hatred, that he knew would mark her beautiful face. He didn't want to risk losing her.
«Tell me, William! Tell me.” Her eyes seemed to flash at him.
He had no choice. “It was more than a dream.»
She watched him, her very silence urging him onward.
He took a deep breath and stepped away from her. He walked toward the fire. “More than a dream, but less than reality.»
«I don't understand.” She sounded very calm. He'd expected her to rage, to scream. Perhaps that would come later.
«The … creature that was in your dream—” He broke off, not certain how to explain. “He—he has certain powers.»
«What kind of powers?»
«He is a creature of the night. He can control the shadows, the mists—»
«I wasn't in the shadows.” Savannah snapped. “I was in my hotel room, in broad daylight.»
William turned to face her. “There are shadows everywhere. They are in dark alleyways, deserted parks. Even in the minds of humans.” In fact, shadows were most often found in the mind. They lived, they grew, hiding in the darkness of the mind.
Savannah ran a frustrated hand through her disheveled hair. “I don't understand. Stop with the stupid riddles and just tell me what happened.»
«I am telling you.” His voice was as soft as hers was loud. “You have to open your mind; you have to listen to me.»
She gritted her teeth. “Fine. He controls shadows. Shadows that are in my head.»
«Everyone has shadows.” It was one of man's greatest weaknesses. “Shadows of fear, of anger. Shadows that lie in the darkness of the human mind, waiting to grow. Waiting to spread.»
She frowned. “I still don't—»
«It's your fear. Your anger. It draws him. And it gives him strength.” It gave the creature strength, and it made Savannah weak. He would have to teach her to shield her mind, to protect herself.
«Strength to enter my mind?»
«Strength to enter your very soul.” He had to make her understand her peril. “As long as you have the fear, he can enter your mind. He can get to you. He can feel you.” He touched her injured hand. “He can make you feel him.»
«He said that he'd felt me before.” She spoke softly, her gaze hooded. “That he knew I'd been there when he'd … when he'd—” She broke off abruptly, apparently unable to continue.
But William knew what she was going to say, and he finished for her, murmuring softly, “When he killed your brother.»
Her eyes welled with tears. “Yes,” she whispered. A tear slid down her cheek, but she wiped it away with a quick swipe of her hand. “He said he felt me when he killed Mark.” Horror was etched on her face.
«Your mind is strong, Savannah. He's drawn to it. To you.” But William would be damned if he'd let the bastard get his hands on Savannah. She was his. The bargain had been made.
Her brow furrowed. “You know him, don't you?»
William tensed. It was the question that he'd feared. He thought about lying, about denying the truth. At least for just a little while longer. But, as he stared into her somber gaze, he could offer her only the truth. “Yes. Yes, I know him.»
«Who is he?»
He lowered his lashes, veiling his gaze. How would she react? Would his words drive her away? Would their bargain be broken so easily? He spoke softly, “He's a killer. A murderer who has been feeding on the blood of the innocent for hundreds of years.»
«We have to stop him,” she said, her hands clenched. “We can't let him hurt anyone else.»
William nodded. Too many people had already died.
Savannah's eyes narrowed. “There's something else, isn't there? Something you're not telling me.»
Surprise shot through him. How had she known? He'd grown amazingly adept at hiding his feelings. “Yes, there's more.»
«Tell me.»
She stood before him, looking for all the world as if a strong wind would blow her down. But her gaze was filled with such strength, such courage. It was time for the truth. “His name is Geoffrey.»
«Geoffrey,” she repeated the name softly. A smile of satisfaction curved her lips.
William could read her so easily. She had a focus now, a name. Before, she'd only had shadows. A monster waiting in the darkness. Now she had a name, a target for her anger, her hate.
Her gaze sharpened upon him. “How do you know him?” She asked.
«He's my half-brother.»
«What?»
He steeled himself for her rage. For her rejection. “Geoffrey de Montfort is my half-brother.»
She shook her head in vehement denial. “No. No, that can't be.»
«You read the diary,” he reminded her brutally. “You know that I had two brothers. Henry and Geoffrey. One golden like the day, and the other with a soul as dark as the night itself.»
«But how—»
«How is he alive? How is he here, now, to kill?” William's lips twisted. “He's my blood. He shares the same curse that I do.” They were bound by their heritage. Bound to walk the earth, to feel the eternal hunger.
Suspicion filled her stare. “You knew,” she whispered. “You knew he was killing, didn't you? That's why you were in Panama City and in Atlanta. You knew what he was doing!»