Page 8 of Bewitched By a Vampire

Her eyelids grew heavy as she pondered that and she fought sleep, desperate to seek an answer to her question.

Only sleep took her anyway, denying her the time to think.

The bastard.

Lilian frowned when a loud banging stirred her. She groaned and reached for the pillow to cover her ears, but there was no pillow beneath her. She cracked her eyes open and frowned, squinting against the bright light that invaded her room. That was right. She had fallen asleep lying across the bed.

The banging came again.

She turned her head to her left and watched the white door shudder with the force of the knocking. Was it Night? She almost laughed at that. It was daylight. The vampire would be safely tucked away in his quarters, sleeping until dusk.

Meaning, she was free of him for a few hours.

“Miss Lilian,” a woman snapped and knocked again.

The housekeeper.

What had possessed Bastian to form a master-servant bond with the grouchy old bag, Lilian would never know. She huffed and pushed off the bed, and plodded to the door, opening it a crack.

“The vampire across the hall will be very angry if you wake him with your attempts to knock my door down.” She gasped when the white-haired woman shoved the flat of her right hand against the door and forced it open.

“Everyone is to work today. You are no exception.” Ellen reached for her arm.

Lilian snatched it away from her. “The vampire across the hall will also be very angry if you take me from this room. He made it painfully clear last night that I’m to stay in it.”

Ellen frowned at her.

Lilian was about to chalk up a victory for herself when the woman seized her arm.

“The vampire has a name, and Lord Van der Garde has requested the entire mansion be prepared for a large party who are arriving tonight.” Ellen dragged her from the room.

Lilian glared at the back of her head, itching to pull the slender pin from her tight bun and stab her with it. She got caught on what the woman had said, though. That was what Night had been doing on the phone while pacing the lawn. He had been putting together a party. He didn’t strike her as the partying type, but then what did she know? Her intel was sketchy at best. She knew his rough age and his bloodline, but other than that, she didn’t have much to go on to help her form a better picture of her new guard.

Which had her wary of him.

Grave and Bastian had reputations that preceded them, a long and bloody history recorded for everyone to see. Night on the other hand. So little was known about him that it unsettled her.

She had the feeling he took great pains to make sure no one was left alive to record the things he did.

“He really will be angry if he finds out you let me out of my room.” She looked back over her shoulder at it as they reached the stairs.

“I have too many rooms to clean and prepare, and refreshments to arrange, to listen to your idle talk and lies. You can return to lazing around your room once your work is done. You can start in the guest rooms. I’ve assigned the dozen on this floor to you.” Ellen’s tone brooked no argument.

Lilian twisted her arm free of Ellen’s grip. “I’m not lying. He really did order me to stay in my room.”

The thought that this interfering old woman believed she was making up excuses so she didn’t have to work made Lilian want to curse. She settled for glaring at her instead, which had zero effect. The housekeeper just left her at the top of the stairs, next to a cart that had cleaning products stuffed into one of the caddies and a huge empty linen basket at the front.

“Not a speck of dust, Miss Lilian. Those rooms must be spotless!”

Lilian flipped her off, grabbed the handles of the cart and stormed along the hallway, heading for the guest quarters that occupied the front rooms of the house in the west wing. At least she was further away from Night. She reached the first room, shoved the door open, and wheeled the cart inside. It was pitch black thanks to the thick metal shutters that covered the windows. She left the cart near the door and carefully crossed the wooden floor to the windows and punched the button on the wall beside one. The shutters whirred and clanked, and slowly rose, allowing sunlight to stream into the room.

Just in case a vampire had any ideas about coming to mete out justice for disobeying him.

It wasn’t her fault.

And it really wasn’t as if she wanted to clean rooms.

Menial work had never really been her thing. Although she had done her fair share of it at the coven over the years. Everything from cooking and cleaning, to decorating and gardening. Everyone in her family participated in daily chores until they were old enough to take on missions or teach the younger witches.

---