Carpathian 04 - Dark Magic

have fallen if he had not moved with his preternatural speed to cover the distance between them.
    His arms swept her up and pinned her to him, his silver eyes slashing at her. "Why are you so weak?"
    She pushed at the wall of his chest in a vain attempt to escape a mind search. He would be able to extract any information he desired quite easily. "You know I never touch human blood. While I was a child, it didn't seem to matter all that much, but over the last couple of years, there have been"—she searched for the word—"repercussions."
    He remained silent, his unblinking gaze steady, compelling her to explain. And it was compulsion. She could not resist the command in his unwavering eyes.
    Savannah sighed. "I'm weak most of the time. I can't shape-shift without it taking a tremendous toll.
    That's why my shows are becoming so rare. I can hardly manage mist to escape and then materialize again." She didn't add that she could no longer manage adequate safeguards while she slept, but she could tell by the sudden glint of steel in his eyes that he had caught the echo of her hastily banned thought.
    His silver gaze became steel, and his arms tightened, threatening to crush her body against the hard strength of his. "Why have you not remedied the situation?" His voice, a soft menace, sent a shiver through her. She was all too aware of his enormous strength.
    "I tried with Peter once, when I was really in a bad way. He was compliant, but I just couldn't bring myself to take his blood." She didn't want to admit that the real reason was that she thought her unusual diet enabled her to walk in the sun.
    "This will end. I forbid a continuation of this stupidity." He gave her a little shake, his teeth very white as they snapped together in irritation. "Should there be need, Savannah, I will force your compliance." He wasn't bragging; his voice held no challenge or taunt. He simply stated the fact.

    Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    She knew he was threatening her not with physical force but with mental compulsion. "Gregori"—she was striving to sound calm and reasonable—"it would be wrong for you to force your will on me."
    He set her on her feet, holding her carefully with one hand, the other going to the buttons of her blouse.
    Savannah's breath caught in her throat. Both her hands whipped up to catch his. "What are you doing?"
    "Removing your clothes." He didn't seem to be aware of her hands straining to control his. The edges of her blouse parted, revealing her narrow rib cage, the soft swell of her breasts in nearly transparent lace.
    The beast surfaced for a moment, wanting to tear, to feed, to claim. It was nearly impossible to control, and for the first time he was truly afraid he had waited too long to come to her. She could be in real danger if he slipped over the edge into madness. Need slammed into him, hard and painful, but he took a deep breath, fought, and won. His hand was steady as he removed the wisp of lace, spilling her full breasts into his view. His fingers brushed satin skin because he couldn't stop himself, his thumb stroking her nipples into hard peaks. He murmured something—Savannah wasn't certain what it was—before he lowered his mouth to taste the creamy offering.
    At the first touch of his tongue, the scrape of his teeth, her legs nearly gave out. Her body went liquid with need. He drew her into the moist heat of his mouth, setting both of them on fire.
    Savannah's fingers tangled in his thick, midnight-black hair with every intention of jerking his head back, but flames were licking along her skin, igniting a fire deep within her. Just once, taste the forbidden. Just once . It was a measure of her pleasure that she didn't know if it was his thought or hers tempting her.
    His hand skimmed down her stomach, found the zipper of her jeans. Around her, colors whirled and danced, the air crackled, the earth shifted beneath her feet. A moan of despair, of desire, escaped her throat. The sound of their hearts, the rush of their blood, was music in her ears. It called to something wild in her. The scent of him, masculine and aroused, the scent of his blood, brought hunger, sharp and compelling.
    "No! I won't do this!" Savannah, desperate to escape his black-magic spell, flung herself away. She wanted him more than anything, more than her own soul, and the intensity of her need frightened her to death.
    Gregori's arms trapped her so that they fell