Page 76 of Bewitched By a Vampire

The brunet stared back at him, shock written in every line of his handsome face, and it was then she noticed something.

He looked an awful lot like Night and Bastian.

She groaned as it hit her, Night’s words when Grave had visited the mansion coming back to haunt her.

His cousin Antoine looked much like Grave.

Meaning, he looked like Night and Bastian too.

Meaning, the vampire who looked ready to murder her and was so protective of Night was his cousin.

Mother earth, her good plan might have been her worst one yet.

Tense seconds ticked past as the two vampires remained locked in a silent battle, and then the brunet backed off another step and relaxed.

Night instantly sagged against her, as if his cousin standing down had stolen all of his strength. Her heart ached, fear squeezing it hard as he didn’t only slump in her arms. His breathing was too rapid. She pressed her palm to his clammy forehead and swallowed hard, barely stopping herself from cursing him and his cousin. He had overexerted himself by protecting her, and as much as she appreciated it because he had probably saved her life, she wanted to scold him.

She gently twisted Night in her arms so he was resting with his back on her thighs and stroked his sweat-slicked brow as she gazed down at him, willing him to fight the poison. He just needed to fight a little longer. She would save him.

“What is wrong with my cousin?” The brunet confirmed her suspicion as he took a hard step towards her, worry shining in his crimson eyes. He didn’t only look like Night, but he sounded like him too, his regal English accent making her ache to hear Night’s voice again. “How did this happen?”

She wanted to explain everything later, when the brunet vampire couldn’t kill her, which she was sure he would try to do when he heard how Night had come to be in his current condition, but the hard look he levelled on her demanded an answer right that moment.

She feared he wouldn’t let her search for Elissa until she told him, so she lined up the words. She gently stroked Night’s brow as he struggled to breathe, using all the magic she could spare in another healing spell. The last one she had tried hadn’t worked, but maybe this one would. Fear of his cousin’s retribution stole her voice, so she angled her head and gazed at Night, narrowing the world down to only them and pretending she was talking to him to make the words come.

“Last month, one of the houses of my coven was attacked… in Germany. No witnesses were left alive. Someone placed Bastian Van der Garde in the area, close to the scene. I was sent on a mission to determine whether he was guilty.” She fought the flicker of nerves that ran through her blood and kept her gaze locked on Night’s face, bracing herself for his cousin’s wrath. “I was supposed to become his servant. It would have given me access to his blood and I could have used one of my gifts to dream his memories. It also would have…” She blew out her breath. “There was a spell in my blood. Whoever took it would be poisoned. My coven meant to remove the poison if I saw Bastian was innocent… but Bastian was called away and ordered Night to take care of me… and then demons attacked and we fled to Norway… and he got into a fight with Bastian and I left with him… and then my coven found us.”

Her vision blurred and she blinked to clear it, needing to see Night’s ashen face. She stroked his cheek, willing him to keep fighting, and her brow furrowed as her heart felt as if it was on the verge of breaking. She couldn’t lose Night.

“They wanted to blame him for what happened. I didn’t know they were torturing him. If I had— It doesn’t matter. They…” Her voice grew hollow as what had happened carved a hole in her chest all over again. “They used a spell on him to make him bite me. They wanted to kill us both.”

The two vampires in the room with her growled at that and she sagged a little as she looked down at Night, her chest feeling as if someone had scraped everything out of it. She had never been so tired. She stroked his cheek and her head dipped towards him when it became too heavy to hold up. She rested her forehead against his, feeling as if they might be doomed to die together after all.

“There is only one Lord Van der Garde who would do the things your coven has laid at Bastian’s feet, and I do not recommend setting your sights on Grave.” The brunet’s deep voice rolled around her, like thunder echoing off cliffs, distant one moment and loud the next.

Night mumbled, “Brother. Stay away. Won’t let you. No one. Hurts Grave.”

Lilian pushed herself up and caressed his damp brow as his broken words gave fear a tighter grip on her. His condition was worsening. Her heart clenched and she managed to lift her head and look at his cousin.

“Elissa,” she murmured, silently beseeching him to not kill her nor turn her away and make her leave like she could see he wanted to in his eyes. “Elissa can help him.”

The male came to her and nudged her aside, easily dislodging her despite her attempt to keep hold of Night. She wanted to curse her weakness, but cursing herself would get her nowhere. She reached for Night instead, her hand missing his by less than an inch as his cousin lifted him into his arms and turned away from her.

“We shall take it from here.” His tone was cold, emotionless, clearly conveying another message to her.

He wanted her to leave.

“No.” She pushed onto her feet and staggered a few steps. “Elissa. Elissa can save him. Need to save him.”

He stopped her by turning on her with a snarl, his pale blue eyes as hard as steel, freezing her in place. “You’ve done enough damage. Night would not want a witch near him when he is weak.”

Lilian glanced at the scar around Night’s neck, that feeling she had whenever she saw it growing stronger. A witch was responsible for what had happened to him and that was why he hated her kind. She reached for him anyway, unwilling to let the vampire take him from her. He could strike her if he wanted, could lash out at her with his full strength, but the only way of stopping her from going with Night would be killing her.

A woman stepped into her path, her hand landing on Lilian’s shoulder, a silent order to stay where she was. She felt magic in that touch, felt strength trickle into her as the weak threads of her power tangled with that of this woman, slowly restoring some of her strength.

Watching the brunet vampire carrying Night away from her was the hardest thing she had ever done. The most terrifying. She shook with a need to follow him and when he disappeared into the gloom on the other side of the door, the sandy-haired vampire following him, it felt as if there was a string that tied her to Night and it had reached its limit, tugging her in that direction.

The woman held her back.

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