He shook his head. “I can't do that.»
«Why?»
He turned his head and let her see his burning stare. Let her see the beast that was within him. “Because I'm hungry…»
Her lips trembled and her face became chalk-white. William expected her to run from the alley at any moment.
She took a deep breath. “I can't let you hurt him.»
He arched a dark brow. “I have to feed.” He smiled. “I need the blood.»
She pushed Slade back and stepped protectively between his body and William's. Her gaze met his.
«Then take mine.»
CHAPTER 3
My brother shares my secret, my torment.
He will walk with me in the shadows, past the angels and past the devils.
He will walk with me through eternity.
-Entry from the diary of Henry de Montfort,
October 31, 1068
Lust flared through him at her bold offer. It was what he'd wanted, what he'd craved, since the first moment that he'd seen her.
To taste her. To drink from her.
It would be ecstasy to hold her body, to feel her br**sts pressed against his chest. His body clenched at the thought.
It would be heaven. Or, at least, as close to heaven as he would ever get.
«Take my blood,” her soft voice entreated, tempted.
The beast within him raged. He felt his control slipping.
He'd intended to only drink lightly from Slade, taking just enough blood to get through until the next full moon. He'd also wanted to frighten the man, to punish him for daring to touch Savannah.
And, he'd wanted to frighten Savannah, to force her to realize the reality of his existence. To force her to give up her crazed notion of becoming a vampire. Becoming like him.
But it seemed that his plan wasn't working. She wasn't acting as he'd anticipated. And his hunger was growing out of control.
«Leave,” he growled, and Slade and his blonde companion fled down the alleyway. They wouldn't remember their encounter with him. He'd planted a strong compulsion in their minds.
Now, Savannah was a different story. His compulsion didn't work on her. She would remember their encounter tonight. She would remember every detail.
As the sound of fleeing footsteps echoed in the distance, they stared into each other's eyes.
The moonlight spilled over Savannah's features and wrapped her in a gentle glow. She looked almost otherworldly in the pale light. Like an angel that had fallen down to earth.
His gaze drifted over the garbage-filled alley. Or to hell.
«Are you going to do it?” she asked, her hand lifting to touch her throat.
He followed her movement, his keen stare noting the pulse that beat frantically at the base of her neck. He wanted to put his lips against that soft point. To press his tongue against her.
«I want you to do it,” she whispered.
His control shattered. He grabbed her, pushing her against the rough brick wall. “Be careful what you ask for, sweet Savannah, because you just might get it.»
And he did what he'd been hungering to do all night. He put his mouth on her, his lips claiming hers in a kiss of hunger, of need.
Her mouth was hot, tight, wet against his. Her tongue met his eagerly, and her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders. She pulled him close against the heat of her body.
She was burning with heat, with life, and he had been cold, so cold, for such a long time.
His hand fisted in her hair, the soft strands easily sifting between his fingers. He tilted her head back, and she opened that delicious mouth of hers wider, letting him slide his tongue deep inside.
She tasted as he'd known she would. Sweet, and just a little bit wild. He couldn't get enough of her. He wanted more. More. All that she had to give.
His lower body was rock hard against her soft hips. He pushed gently, letting her feel his need. His hunger. He'd never wanted a woman this much. Never.
He didn't hear the sounds of the cars as they passed by on the main street. He didn't hear the laughter or the conversations from the bar. He forgot all about the dirty alley. His only thought, his only focus, was her.
He pulled his mouth slowly from hers, kissing her gently now, using his tongue to flick against her lips.
She moaned softly, and the yearning sound tore through him.
His lips moved slowly down her chin, then down farther, sliding around the curve of her neck. He licked her, tasting the salt on her skin. He could feel her pulse, could feel the vibration against his lips. He could smell her, the scent of lavender wrapping tightly around him. He sucked gently on her throat.
«Do it,” she whispered, her voice a husky purr of seduction. And he couldn't resist any longer. His teeth sank deep. She gasped, her body shaking in his arms.
With one hand, he held her head back, cradling her. With the other, he pulled her hips tightly against his own. His hips thrust against her. His lips drank from her.
Her blood was the sweetest he'd ever tasted. So pure. So good. He didn't know if he could ever get enough of that taste. He drank, taking deeply of her essence, loving the feel of her in his arms. Loving her taste.
She shuddered, her lashes slowly lowering. Her body began to slip, to sag slightly against him. He pulled back at once, his tongue licking away the drops of blood that trickled down her throat.
Need still burned through him. He wanted to strip away her clothes, to have her beautiful body bare before him. He wanted to sink himself into her, deep into her, until he could not tell where he ended and she began.
His body ached for her.
«Did you…” She paused and wet her lips. “…get what you wanted?” Her voice was thick, husky.
He stared down at her. “No, but I will … soon.»
She frowned, and her body swayed against his. “William? I—” Her head fell back, and she slumped against him. He caught her easily in his arms, lifting her high up against his chest.
He cursed softly. He'd taken too much blood from her. She was a small woman, delicate. He should have used more care.
In truth, he never should have touched her. He'd given in to his need for Savannah, and now that need was raging inside of him. If he still had any conscience, he would let her go. He would send her far, far away from the monster that he'd become.
But his conscience had died a long time ago. It had died in a blood soaked field in France. It had died the moment he killed his brother.
His hands tightened around Savannah's still form.
She was the first thing that he'd wanted, that he'd needed, in over one thousand years.
And he didn't want to let her go.
* * * *
Savannah awoke with a start, her brother's dying scream echoing in her mind.