There is no need for you to apologize, lifemate. We both are learning to live in the other’s world. I don’t find it necessary to touch others to be happy.

Gregori brought her hand to the warmth of his mouth a second time, the molten silver of his eyes caressing her intimately.

Gary cleared his throat. “Enough of that stuff.”

A brief smiled softened the edges of Gregori’s mouth. “What else did these men have to say?”

“I thought you could read my mind,” Gary ventured.

Gregori nodded. “That is so, but if I were to examine your memories, I would know them all. Out of courtesy, respect for you, I do not. All of us have things we would prefer to keep to ourselves, painful or embarrassing moments we need not share.”

“Even between the two of you?” Gary was beginning to really like the Carpathian. He also realized that whatever it was the couple shared was unique.

“It is different with lifemates,” Savannah answered him. “We are two halves of the same whole. What one feels, so does the other. There can be only truth between us.”

“The men from Florida.” Gregori brought them back to the discussion at hand. Keeping up a wavering haze between Savannah and the rest of the patrons in the restaurant was energy-draining for her, but every time he went to take it over, she resisted. He could see that her pride was at stake. For some silly reason, she wanted to prove to him she was a capable Carpathian. He would only put up with the nonsense so long. Her care came first. Savannah tossed him a murderous look and withdrew her hand just as the waiter arrived with their dinners.

Gary waited for him to leave before he continued in a low voice. “Two of the men told us to look for certain types. Someone whose family traced their eastern European ancestry back hundreds and hundreds of years, often with an estate that has been in the same family just as long. That kind of thing. They threw out a couple of names and occupations. One was some singer with a huge following who only appears in public at night and won’t sign a contract with a recording studio. They say her voice is mesmerizing, haunting. They said if you hear her sing, you can never forget the experience. They seemed very interested in her.”

“This woman could be in danger. Who is she?”

Gregori shook his head at Savannah’s question. No Carpathian woman would ever be allowed to run around unprotected by the males of their race. It had to be a human target whose eccentric ways had caught the eye of the society.

“She uses two different variations of the same name. Desari or Dara. I think the Dara nickname is supposed to mean from the dark or some such nonsense. She probably needed a show-business name, and her real name is Suzy.”

“What specifically did they want the members to do about her?” Savannah asked, still afraid for the unknown woman.

At once Gregori sent her a wave of reassurance. We will put out the word to all of our kind that she is in danger. They will watch over her when she is near.

There are so few of us in this country. Most of the time she will be without protection.Savannah passed a hand across her forehead, suddenly tired. She had been involved in the sordid business of vampires and human “vampire” hunters only a short time, and she was already weary of their seemingly endless perversion.

Perhaps this is the very thing we need to keep Julian with us. I will ask him to travel with this performer until the danger to her has passed. Do not worry for the human female. Julian would never allow her to be harmed if he has taken her under his protection.Gregori examined the weariness in her mind. I will take over the shield now, mapetite, and you will not argue with your lifemate.Gregori took no chances with her stubborn ways. He thrust his will decisively into hers, blocking any attempt to take the control back. She was tired.

She smiled at him, tender, loving, accepting. Gregori slid his arm along the back of her chair protectively.

Oblivious of the interplay between the two Carpathians, Gary continued the conversation. “They wanted us to watch her, to do research on her, find out what we could about her background. And she wasn’t the only one. There was a man they seemed very interested in. An Italian, I think. Julian Selvaggio or something close to that.”

Selvaggio is Italian forSavage. Aidan and Julian were bornSelvaggio. It also meansunsociable person, Gregori’s voice whispered in her mind.

Savannah felt her heart slam painfully against her ribs. Julian. Of course it was Julian Savage. She looked up at Gregori. The society was setting its members against Julian. She didn’t know him personally, but suddenly it all seemed very close to home.

We will send word to him, mapetite. Who better to guard the woman from those who also wish his death? Julian is a very dangerous hunter. One of our best. Second to your father, he is perhaps the most powerful Carpathian alive.

I guess we aren’t considering you,Savannah said loyally, truthfully.

Gregori turned his attention to Gary. “So the society members from Florida were different from the rest of you. They were serious, and they gave you specific names to get information on. Were there more?”

Gary nodded. “I have a laptop in my hotel room. It lists those they suspect and activities they considered suspicious.”

Gregori permitted himself a small smile. His teeth were gleaming white, those of a predator on the prowl. “I think a trip to your hotel room is on the agenda tonight.”

Savannah tossed her braid over her shoulder and allowed herself to look around the room. Laughter was erupting from nearly every table. Most of the occupants were tourists, and she enjoyed listening to the various accents and conversations. A group of older locals was four tables away. She found their mixture of French Cajun fascinating. Three of them had grown up together and were telling a fourth, younger man some of the more fanciful tales of their youth.

She found herself tuning in as the young man laughed softly. “Stories about Old man alligator have been around since before my grandfather’s time. It’s just a legend, an old tale to scare the children away from the swamp, nothing more. My mother used to tell me that same story.”

An argument broke out instantly among the men. The oldest, the one with the heaviest accent, broke into French, not the elegant French Gregori spoke, but the local dialect. All the same, Savannah was certain he was swearing a blue streak. There was such a soothing cadence to the old man’s voice, a rhythm unique to New Orleans.

As she listened, the old alligator grew in stature. He was huge, like the grinning crocodile of the Nile. He had eaten hundreds of hunting dogs, lay in wait along a trail and gulped them as they came running by. He snatched small children from the banks in front of their parents’ homes. An entire boatload of partying teens had vanished in his domain. The tales grew with each telling.

At first, Savannah was smiling, enjoying the fascinating old legend, but a slow dread was beginning to seize her. She glanced at Gregori. He was talking quietly with Gary, extracting information with skillful questions even as he gave the illusion of having a pleasant conversation. She knew he was automatically scanning the area, monitoring other conversations, yet he seemed relaxed, unaware of the gathering blackness.

She rubbed her pounding temples, massaged her tight neck. Little beads of sweat broke out on her forehead.

Savannah tried to concentrate on the funny tale, the growing exploits of the alligator, but with each passing moment all she could do was feel the black apprehension building like some terrible disease that managed to get inside her mind and cling to her.

Gregori turned his head, the silver eyes slashing her face, at once concerned. mapetite, what is it?His mind was already reaching for hers, merging fully so that he could feel the gathering sense of darkness growing so quickly within her.