Page 48 of Bewitched By a Vampire

She was vital.

He unlocked his car and slipped into the driver’s seat, and started the engine. He sped away from the garage, driving as fast as he could through the streets of London, uncaring of whether he got a ticket or two. If any police tried to stop him, they were in for a bad night. His mood had just taken a sharp nosedive and he didn’t have time to waste on placing humans under thrall to make them let him off.

And he was getting a little peckish.

Night made it to his apartment in record time, running several lights along the way and driving on the wrong side of the road for a stretch along the river. Needs must and all that. Rather than driving his car into the garage, he left it jacked up on the curb and raced upstairs.

He was out of breath by the time he reached his own penthouse apartment, but it was better than waiting for the lift.

Night stilled, locking up tight as he looked at his door.

That didn’t look good.

It hung at a jaunty angle, leaning at a diagonal into his apartment.

His senses stretched around him and he slowed his breathing, becoming silent. Nothing in the area except for him. Whoever had been here was gone. He drew in a subtle breath, scenting the air, and smelled musk and the faintest hint of smoke and ash.

Demons, if he had to guess.

His eyes slowly widened.

Demons.

“Lilian,” he muttered as his heart lurched into his throat.

He raced into the apartment, leaping over the upturned couch and the broken furniture that littered the living room, heading for his bedroom. The bed lay in pieces and the mattress had been thrown aside and now rested against the wall. He crossed the room in a blur, shoved the clothes that were still on the rail aside as he reached the wardrobe and pressed his hand to a spot on the black back wall.

A faint click sounded and then mechanical whirring as the door opened.

Night stepped into his armoury as the fluorescent lights flickered on, plinking as they brightened to illuminate the three walls of weaponry.

He grabbed his favourite two swords and their holster, and then a sheath with several daggers in it.

He turned to leave and paused, pivoted back to face the way he had been and grabbed another sword.

One small and light enough that a petite female could wield it.

He hurried from his armoury and punched the panel, closing it behind him. Thankfully, his apartment was the only one on this floor and required a key in order for the lift to access it, so the authorities wouldn’t get wind of what had happened and come to investigate. But he really didn’t need the police finding the store of blood in his fridge, the weapons he kept in his armoury or the files he had on various immortals in his office. So just to be sure, he used his phone to fire off a message to his squad, asking them to use the spare key in his office at their HQ and retrieve the files and arrange for a replacement door, and warning them about the demon.

Night hurried downstairs to his car and threw the weapons into the passenger seat. He hit the gas and tore away from the building, weaving through the traffic at breakneck speed until he reached the outskirts of London. From there, he really put his foot down.

His heart pounded as he raced through the darkness, a vampire on a mission—one that felt critical to him. He had faced thousands of foes on the battlefield, had eliminated countless marks as an assassin, but never had he felt so sure that he would die if he failed to complete a mission.

He gripped the steering wheel, shaking off the urge to touch his throat and the scar on it.

That one didn’t count. He hadn’t even had a chance to start the mission before it had failed thanks to the vile witches who had intercepted his team and had taken down his commander, and had come close to taking Night down too. He pressed his emerging claws into the leather of his steering wheel as anger curled through him, as potent now as it had been back then, laced with pain as he thought about Franz.

His friend hadn’t deserved to die like that.

He shook off his past and forced his focus back to the road ahead of him as it narrowed. He used his fast reaction speed to his advantage, whipping the car around each tight bend as he navigated the country lanes.

In the distance, a glow lit the sky.

Not dawn.

He frowned at it. What was it? A fire?

His blood turned to icy sludge in his veins as he thought that. His heart felt as if it might stop as he calculated where he was in comparison to where the fire was burning.

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