Page 33 of Bewitched By a Vampire

He proved that by muttering, “Gods, I hate her.”

If hate was a synonym for love, then yes, his brother really hated his mate.

“The demon is probably baiting you,” Night offered as he set his mind to the task of finding where the fiend had taken his brother’s beloved mate. He rubbed his thumb across his lower lip, running through all the possible scenarios, seeking the one that would fit a demon. “He will probably take her somewhere you know.”

Night looked from Grave to Snow and back again.

“Somewhere you both know,” he amended. “Any ideas?”

Grave glared at him, crimson bleeding into his irises. “The castle. The castle where we killed his family.”

“That is a long way from a portal.” Snow pushed to his feet.

“Then we best get started.” Grave stood and turned to Night, his expression deadly serious. “Do not allow your attraction to the human female to cause a rift between you and Bastian.”

“What attraction?” Night said, all innocence as he raised his brows and feigned shock.

Grave arched an eyebrow at him, that action calling Night on his lie.

“She’s not willing.” Night couldn’t hold that back. It didn’t justify his feelings or his desire to help her, but it might make Grave see things from his angle.

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Grave drawled and looked at the door and then back at him. “She might not be willing, Night, but she does seem at home here. She knows how to behave around purebloods, meaning she accepted the lessons the other staff would have given her, preparing her for becoming one of them. And if she was desperate to leave and escape Bastian, she would have done so by now. Bastian is hardly holding her under lock and key.”

His brother headed for the door.

Night scowled at his back and cursed him.

Because Grave was right.

Lilian wasn’t exactly a prisoner, and she must have had plenty of chances to escape while Bastian was here. Her room was far from Bastian’s, so his brother hadn’t felt the need to keep tabs on her during the daylight hours, and Bastian hadn’t given him a key for her room or instructed him to keep her locked inside it, meaning he had never bothered to do such a thing himself.

She had even had opportunities to escape when Night had been here, but she hadn’t taken them. Not only that, but she had said that she would come back if he went with her to see her friend or allowed her to go alone.

So did she want to be Bastian’s and gain the benefits of becoming owned by him?

Or did she want to leave?

Which was it?

He wanted to know the answer to that question.

And he wanted to know it right now.

Chapter 9

Lilian moved around the basement kitchen, keeping active to ward off the chill that rose from the worn stone floor. She paused briefly in front of the ancient black Aga that took up most of one wall, savouring the heat that came off it. Going to her room would have been warmer, but she also would have been closer to the vampires. Down here, surrounded by stone and the constant scent of the fuel burning in the stove, and the fire in the grate of the inglenook, she could drop the spell that concealed the fact she was a witch. It was still risky, but Night was occupied with his brother and cousin.

It had taken a lot for her not to be afraid when faced with the King of Death, a vampire with an incredible reputation for being ruthless and violent, and uncontested on the battlefield. The fear she had felt in his presence had been nothing compared to what she had felt when Night had reacted so fiercely to discovering the other vampire was his cousin.

He had looked ready to lock her away to keep her from him.

Some foolish part of her had sworn he was overreacting, but then she had seen the black in his cousin’s crimson eyes as he had stared at the blood she had been pouring. Bloodlust. The whole family were afflicted with it. She had thought Night’s reaction to her had been savage bloodlust, but the way he had acted was nothing compared with how the cousin had responded to just the sight of blood. She had seen Night around blood and he had been in control, looking normal. The big white-haired one had looked ready to go off.

Making her re-evaluate how dangerous Night was.

She was no expert by any means, but based on what she had seen and what she did know, on a scale of one to ten, she placed his bloodlust at an eight, Grave’s at a ten, and the cousin’s at one hundred.

Lilian drifted to the enormous heavy wooden table that occupied the centre of the large room and arranged the plates into neat piles, ready for putting away in the cupboards of the Welsh dressers that lined another of the stone walls. Ellen had made it very clear when she had caught her hurrying away from the crimson drawing room that she needed to finish taking care of the tasks she had been assigned that morning. Tasks that had gone undone thanks to the fact Night had ordered her to stay in her bedroom.

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