“How did he do this?” Savannah smiled up at Gregori, pleased her house had such secrets.

His arm circled her shoulders. “Great patience.” A faint smile softened his mouth. “Remember the caskets sent over from Europe when New Orleans was wracked with yellow fever and death? It was rumored for years that they contained vampires, but many obviously contained simply soil from our homeland. Clever of Julian to manage it.”

“I wonder how often he stayed here,” Savannah ventured softly, letting the soil slide through her fingers. What she really wondered was how much of New Orleans history Julian Savage had been involved in. Humans had long believed that the legendary vampires of their imaginings were rampant in New Orleans. Had Julian’s activities over the past two centuries fueled those rumors? “Do you think that human society headquartered themselves here to hunt him?” she asked.

“That society is becoming a pain in the neck. I need to get word to Mikhail that we did not stamp them out as we thought we had. They seem to be back and stronger than ever. Every thirty years or so they crop up to give us problems.”

“Julian must have only discovered them quite recently or he would have told you about them when he was reporting in to you about me.” There was a bite to her voice. She was still annoyed that Gregori had had someone watching her. Even more than that, she was annoyed with herself for not sensing another of her kind.

“Julian never exactly reported in to me,” Gregori said dryly. “He is not the kind of man to answer to anyone. Julian is like the wind, the wolves. Totally free. He goes his own way. He watched over you, but he did not send me reports. That is not his way.”

“He sounds interesting,” Savannah murmured.

Instantly Gregori could feel his muscles tighten. That black, nameless rage that made him so dangerous boiled in his gut. He would always live with the fear that he had stolen Savannah from another. That some other Carpathian male held the secret to her heart. That he had condemned another to death or, worse, to becoming the undead, because he had stolen Savannah. Since Gregori had manipulated the outcome of their joining, perhaps there was some other whose chemistry matched hers perfectly. His silver eyes were cold and lethal, small red flames leaping in their depths. “You do not need to find Savage interesting. I would never give you up, Savannah.”

“Don’t be an idiot, Gregori,” she said impatiently. “As if I’d even want some other beast just out of the cave when I’ve almost got you trained.” She held out a hand. “Come on, you have to see the courtyard.”

His larger hand swallowed hers. She always seemed to know what to say or do to ease the terrible weight crushing his chest. Though he often wanted to shake her, to kiss her into submission, he also wanted her to be as sassy as she was right at that moment. She was turning his world upside down.

He followed her upstairs, helpless to do anything else. Thick double doors opened onto the courtyard. Savannah was right. It was impressive. The garden was bigger than the house itself. Plants grew everywhere, a wild collage of green lace and bright blooms. Spanish tile covered the ground in a patchwork patio. Benches and chairs were scattered among the plants and trees, shaded from the sun. Long lounges were arranged in the open, beneath the stars and moon.

Bats dipped and wheeled, feasting on insects in the air. Fragrance from the flowers muted the oppressive pollution from the narrow streets, but nothing could drown out the noise. Music from all directions clashed with the clatter of horse hooves on cobblestones, car horns blaring, and voices raised in laughter, in merriment.

Gregori sorted out the sounds, listened to snippets of conversation, and got a feel for the rhythm of the neighborhood. It would take a few days for him to become comfortable in this environment. He would have liked a chance to explore it on his own beforehand to ensure Savannah’s safety. “We need to take a walk,” he said abruptly. “I want to see all the entrances and exits, get to know the faces and voices that belong here.”

Savannah pushed open the iron gate and stepped out onto the street. A young couple standing on the porch next door stared at them curiously. Savannah sent them a smile and waved happily. The woman raised an arm in answer.

Do not act so friendly, Savannah. You are a celebrity. We will have enough attention drawn to us.

They are our neighbors. Try not to scare them to death, will you?Savannah took his arm, grinning up at him teasingly. “You look as fierce as a member of the Mafia. No wonder our neighbors are staring. People tend to be curious. Wouldn’t you be if someone moved in next door to you?”

“I don’t abide next-door neighbors. When humans consider building in the vicinity of one of my homes, the neighborhood is suddenly inundated with wolves. It works every time.” He sounded menacing.

Savannah laughed at him. “You’re such a baby, Gregori. Scared of a little company.”

“ Youscare me to death, woman. Because of you I find myself doing things I know are totally insane. Staying in a house built in a crowded city below sea level. Neighbors on top of us. Human butchers surrounding us.”

“Like I’m supposed to believe that would scare you,” she said smugly, knowing his only worry was for her safety, not his. They turned a corner and headed toward the famous Bourbon Street.

“Try to look less conspicuous,” he instructed.

A dog barked, rushed to the end of its lead, and bared its teeth. Gregori turned his head and hissed, exposing white fangs. The dog stopped its aggression instantly, yelped in alarm, and retreated whining.

“What are you doing?” Savannah demanded, outraged.

“Getting a feel for the place,” he said absently, his mind clearly on other matters, his senses tuned to the world around him. “Everyone is crazy here, Savannah. You are going to fit right in.” He ruffled her hair affectionately.

She stopped abruptly, her smile fading, her hand slipping from his arm. Gregori’s head went up alertly, automatically scanning the area for enemies. “What is it?”

Savannah did an about-face and turned the corner, walking slowly up the street. Savannah, you will answer me. What is it you sense that I do not?Gregori caught at her arm, physically stopping her. His fingers shackled her wrist, his body all at once close and protective. Answer me, or I will force you to go back to the house.

Shh. I’m trying to concentrate. I’ve never really done this before.Even in her mind she was very distracted.

Gregori merged with her so that he could feel her thoughts, know whatever it was that she was feeling. It was a compulsion of sorts, not one their race commonly used, a drawing toward some place. Of power? He tried to tune it in. Not power. To evil. Something very evil.

Once more his hand tightened on her wrist and brought her to a halt. There were several homes on the street, but farther down the block the residences gave way to stores. One was a voodoo shop. He concentrated on that, listening intently to the conversation between a tourist and one who worked inside. There was a suggestion of power, of magic, but certainly not the taint of evil.

Two buildings down from the voodoo shop.Savannah’s voice brushed at his mind.

It is not on Julian ‘s list,Gregori answered, but he believed her. He felt it through her. Raven Dubrinsky had obviously passed on her psychic talents to her daughter.

They linked hands and strolled casually along the street, seemingly enjoying the night air, mingling with the tourists and those who made their homes there. The majority of the revelers were in the heart of the Quarter, along Bourbon Street, farther down, lining up to get into Preservation Hall. Savannah and Gregori moved along the narrow walkway, pausing to allow a horse-drawn carriage to pass. The occupants of the conveyance were laughing and listening to the sing-song voice of their guide describing points of interest with a few local myths thrown in.