Page 40 of Bewitched By a Vampire

A little furrow formed between her fine eyebrows as she looked up at him, concern glittering in her eyes, chasing away the shadows. “Night, I’m sure Bastian is safe. If this demon had him, he would have responded to the messages. He would want you to try to save your brother so he could capture you too.”

Night scratched the back of his head as he thought about that and another reason presented itself. “Or the demon knows I’ll come looking for my brother when he doesn’t respond and is luring me into a trap… weakening me by making me worried about Bastian.”

“What kind of demon is he?” Lilian moved back a step and then another, and looked around her. Her gaze settled on the chairs beside the table and she went to it, pulled two out and sat on the one to his right.

Night took the hint and went to the other, only realising once he had sat down how close it placed him to Lilian. Their knees almost touched.

“A demon of the Devil’s ranks. They are powerful and dangerous, more so than—”

She cut him off. “Then he would not try to lure you into a trap. The Devil’s demons don’t skulk around and use traps against their enemies. There is no honour in that.”

He frowned at her, and not because she apparently knew a lot about his world and he wanted to know how. The black look he couldn’t stop himself from levelling on her was because she thought there wasn’t any honour in slipping through the shadows and taking down enemies with stealth.

Which is exactly what he did.

She blinked and held her hands up. “I mean for demons of that breed. They value brute strength and a direct approach, one that places them in the path of danger so they can prove their prowess to their master and others of their breed.”

“Nice save,” he muttered and glared at his knees, still not convinced she didn’t feel there was no honour in the way he operated.

“Maybe if I knew more about you, we wouldn’t have misunderstandings,” she grumbled back at him.

And he stared at her.

She wanted to know more about him? That had connotations, like she was looking for this thing happening between them to be more than short term, something that wouldn’t be over when Bastian returned and Night somehow convinced him to let Lilian go.

Rose climbed her cheeks and she averted her gaze.

“Come with me.” He reached for her hand, paused with his close to it and then took the plunge, seizing hold of hers. “I need to go to London to find my brother and make sure he’s all right, and then get him to the safe house in Norway. While we’re in London, we can go to my apartment and get my things.”

By things, he meant his weapons.

He squeezed her hand, willing her to say yes to his proposal. He needed to keep her with him. He needed to protect her. That need ran so deep that he felt desperate as he waited to hear her response.

“I need to stay here,” she said.

Night growled at her, flashing his emerging fangs, and released her hand as he narrowed his eyes on her.

She leaned towards him and grabbed his hand, holding him firm, her gaze imploring him to listen. “If what you say is true, then everyone needs to leave. Not just us. I can help the others evacuate quickly… and if Bastian returns while you’re gone, I’ll be here to tell him what’s happening.”

Night glared at her hand on his, unable to deny that her logic was sound, even when he hated the thought of leaving her unprotected at the mansion. It was only a few hours, but it would feel like an eternity to him.

“Bastian won’t return now. I’ve been sending him messages. Grave has probably contacted him too. For all we know, he’s already gone to Norway.” Or he could already be dead, but Night refused to believe that. “Come with me, Lilian.”

He stopped just short of telling her that he needed to know she was safe.

“Night.” Her tone was soft, but commanding, and his fight left him as he heard in it that she wasn’t going to do as he wanted. “Someone has to help everyone evacuate.”

“Ellen can do it,” he snapped, unable to keep the snarl from his voice as he thought about leaving Lilian behind, exposed to danger and vulnerable without him.

“Let me help these people,” she whispered and what he heard was her asking him to let her go.

He pushed to his feet on a low growl, wrenching his hand from hers, and immediately regretted his actions as he broke contact with her. He tunnelled his fingers through his hair and huffed, turned away from her and then back to her to stare down into her eyes.

“You’ll be vulnerable.” He couldn’t hold those words back, or the feelings that had birthed them, and he knew by the softening of her eyes that she had seen them.

“I’m stronger than you think,” she whispered and reached for him, holding her hand out to him.

He wanted to take it. Gods, he wanted to take it.

---