“You were very lucky,” Gregori said softly, his voice like a fresh, cool breeze. It seeped into La Rue’s mind, his pores, and dissipated the sickness gripping him.

You can heal him,Savannah said. He is mortal.

You can do it,she insisted. Julian protected him, ensured the poison wouldn’t spread, kept the nightmare away, but you can remove it.

The hard edge to Gregori’s mouth softened, almost a smile. She was doing it again. There was no way to convince her he couldn’t do what she wanted. She believed it implicitly. He brought her hand to the warmth of his mouth, pressed a kiss into her palm. Je t’aime, Savannah,he whispered into her mind like a caress.

Savannah leaned into him. I love you, too, lifemate.

Gregori turned his attention to cleansing the mortal’s mind, washing away the memory of the encounter with the loathsome creature, the undead. He didn’t remove it completely because it was firmly entrenched in the captain’s soul; the man had lived with the experience for too many years. But Gregori whitewashed it, toning it down, extracting the remnants of the vampire’s tainted touch, the evil punishment for the intrusion, for the ability to escape the snare. The nightmares would be gone, the vivid horror would fade, and the terrible dread and fear Beau had lived with would be gone from his life for all time.

Gregori sighed softly and rubbed the nape of his neck where it tightened after such a mental excursion. Removing the taint of vampire from a mortal, from anyone, was difficult; it took tremendous energy. But looking down into Savannah’s shining eyes made it all worthwhile. She was looking at him as if he were the only man on earth.

Youare the only man as far as I’m concerned,she whispered softly, the words brushing away the weariness in his mind. The sound of the ancient healing chant was soothing, as her voice, beautiful and pure, rinsed away the ugly touch of the vampire’s depravity from his own mind. To walk in Beau’s mind and heal it, he had had to see every memory in vivid detail. Gregori had to enter the ugliness of the vampire’s sick spells to unravel them and heal from the inside out. He found his hand gripping Savannah’s, a kind of humbleness sweeping through him. No one had ever done that before—looked after him, worried about his well-being, helped heal him. It was a unique experience for the master healer of their race.

“You took Julian to this place?” Gregori asked the captain.

Beau nodded. “We have gone several times over the years. We never encountered the old man again.”

“Did it feel the same to you? His territory? Was it still evil?”

Beau nodded slowly, a faint frown on his face. “But I knew he wasn’t there. It was evil, but not quite the same. Of course, with Julian, I always felt different. Everything was different.”

“Different?” Savannah echoed. “How?”

Beau shrugged. “He’s hard to explain, but you should know. He is like this one.” He indicated Gregori. “He’s invincible. Man or beast, natural or supernatural, nothing could harm Julian. That’s how he makes you feel.”

Savannah exchanged a small smile of complete understanding with Beau. She knew exactly what he meant. “Do you think the alligator is still after all these years? Surely they die natural deaths.”

“He’s alive all right,” Beau said. “But I don’t think he stays in his pool all the time. I think he has a new hideout. Julian really hunted for him. We spent a lot of time on it, but we never uncovered his other lair.”

“Have there been any recent sightings of him?” Gregori asked. “Even a rumor, a drunk talking big? Or strange disappearances?”

Beau shrugged, the easy bayou casualness of accepting everyday life. “There are always disappearances in the swamps, unexplained odors, and weird occurrences. No one thinks it unusual. No one believes in the old man anymore. He has become a legend, a scary tale to frighten the tourists. That’s all.”

“But you know better,” Gregori said softly.

Beau sighed. “Yes, I know better. He’s out there somewhere in these miles of swamp, and he’s hungry. All the time hungry. Not for food, but to kill. That’s his hunger, that’s what he lives for, just to kill.”

The boat was carefully maneuvered into its berth. Gregori thanked La Rue and tried to pay him. When the guide refused, Gregori momentarily blurred his memory of time and placed a quantity of money in the captain’s wallet. He had been in the man’s mind, knew his financial problems, knew he was worried for his wife’s health.

Savannah curled her fingers into Gregori’s back pocket as they wandered up the road and back toward civilization. La Rue called to them. “Where’s your car? These roads aren’t always safe after dark.”

Gregori glanced over his shoulder, his pale eyes glittering ominously, picking up a hint of a blood-red moon. His eyes resembled those of a wolf hunting prey. “Do not worry. We will be safe.”

Beau La Rue laughed happily. “I wasn’t worried about you. I was worried that any who attempted to mug you might be friends of mine. Don’t hurt them too badly, eh? Perhaps just give them a little lesson in manners.”

“I promise,” Gregori assured him. He slipped an arm around Savannah. “Interesting tale about that alligator.”

“The vampire is using it to guard him when he’s in the swamp?” Savannah ventured.

“Perhaps,” Gregori mused. He inhaled sharply, a predator scenting prey. Hunger was gnawing, a sharp edge that persisted, always present, particularly predominant when he had used so much energy. The men grouped together near a large tree up the road were drinking beer and watching their approach. He could feel their eyes on Savannah, could smell their sudden interest.

Savannah dropped a step behind him so that his much larger frame hid her from prying eyes. “So why else would the vampire use the alligator? Why would he safeguard his lair that way?”

“Think what you just said. His lair. The vampire uses the swamp as his lair. If that alligator has been around so long, there is only one explanation. The vampire must shape-shift, must become the alligator. He simply disappears into the swamp and grows fat terrorizing the population while he waits for the hunter to go away.”

“But if Julian has lived here for many years—” she started to protest.

He shook his head. “Time means nothing to the undead. And there are swamps beyond this place, other cities to terrorize. He simply goes from one area to another, amusing himself until it is safe for him to return.”

Gregori’s senses were on the small group of men. He could see them clearly. He could hear their whispers, the swish of beer in the cans, the ebb and flow of blood in their veins. Fangs lengthened ominously. He ran his tongue along the sharp incisors, the ancient call to feed upon him.

Savannah tugged at his pocket, brought him to a halt. “I don’t like this, Gregori. Let’s get out of here.”

“Stay here.” He gave the order abruptly, his gaze drifting over her head to his prey. “They want to fight with you,” she protested. “Just leave them.”

His hands caught her upper arms, and he bent his dark head to her, his pale eyes capturing her blue gaze. “Know me for what I am, Savannah. They think to threaten us. Perhaps if we leave, another couple will come along, and we will not be here to protect them. They want to test their strength, to intimidate, to rob. They have not worked themselves up to it yet, but the intent is there in their minds. I wish to feed, and your hunger beats at me. This I will do.”

“Fine, do it then,” she snapped, jerking away from him. “But they give me the creeps. And I want none of their blood.”

He pulled her back into his arms and found her throat with his mouth, his teeth scraping, teasing along her creamy skin. “You are so soft inside, ma petite,your heart is so gentle. It is good you have me.”