Page 78 of Bewitched By a Vampire

He gave her a black look, one that said he knew she was palming the baby off onto him on purpose so he couldn’t protect Night.

“They don’t mean him harm, Antoine,” Sera murmured. “Look at her. She clearly loves him.”

Lilian had been lost in looking at Night, aching with a need to go to him and help him as he writhed on the black covers of the grim steel four-poster bed before her, but the moment Sera’s words registered, her head whipped towards the couple and her eyes widened. The looks the two vampires and Elissa gave her said there was no point in denying it.

“I do love him.” She glanced back at Night, warmth blooming inside her to chase the cold away for a moment before it crept back in. “I love him and I’m going to save him, and if you try to stand in my way—”

“I won’t,” Antoine interjected and slid a look at Night. “But I’m not leaving him. His history with witches… I can’t leave him alone with two of them.”

She squirmed a little at that, heat climbing her cheeks as she thought about Night biting her in front of others.

The thought of him biting her in front of Elissa was bad enough, but the thought of Antoine being in the room at the time too had her wrestling with the desire to call the whole thing off. Being bitten by a vampire seemed so intimate. She didn’t want an audience for it.

But neither Antoine nor Elissa looked as if they were going to listen to a word she had to say if she attempted to convince them to let her be alone with Night.

Lilian mustered her courage and looked at Night. She could do this.

“Once his fangs are in you, I’ll hit you with a spell and hopefully he’ll be so into feeding that he won’t notice the magic.” Elissa palmed her shoulder. “You can do this. Just keep him focused on you. If you feel faint, hit the mattress and we’ll pull you out, okay?”

She nodded, already feeling faint at just the thought of mounting the bed. Why did it have to be on a bed? It made what she was about to do feel even more intimate and made her blush harder.

“I’ll give you another little boost. Your blood seems clear of the original spell, so that’s good.” Elissa’s magic entwined with hers.

Lilian wanted to moan as strength flowed into her.

“It left my blood the moment Night had taken enough of it to trigger it in his veins instead.” She patted Elissa’s hand. “I’m ready. Let’s do this.”

Elissa released her and Lilian marched to the bed and clambered onto the mattress beside Night, nerves threatening to get the better of her. This wasn’t sexual. This was about healing him.

Saving him.

She focused on that.

She leaned over Night, bringing her throat to his lips. They parted and his fangs brushed her skin, sending a shiver down her spine and fogging her mind.

She needn’t have worried about being aware of her audience.

As Night’s fangs gently pierced her throat, the whole world fell away.

Chapter 20

Night had never tasted anything like the blood pouring down his throat. He drank greedily, unable to get enough of the spiced liquid, ravenous for more. The flavour changed as he sucked harder, becoming laced with subtle hints of bluebells and sunshine, summoning imagined glades like ones he had seen in pictures, where sunlight filtered through silver birches to illuminate a sea of delicate flowers. He needed more. More. He drank deeper still, a groan rolling up his throat as he clutched the source of the delicious and addictive blood to him.

In the wake of the bewitching taste came strength. If the taste was soft and subtle, a gentle wave that swept over him, then the strength was fierce and intense, hitting him like a tsunami.

He craved more.

Awareness steadily built inside him as the blood worked to heal him, driving out the chilling cold and flooding him with warmth. Scents mingled with that of the blood. Sounds followed. And as his senses came back online, he pinpointed two other people near him and his host.

And snarled against the throat of his victim.

This blood belonged to him and him alone. He would let no other taste it. He would let no other have her.

Her?

A need to hold on to his host clashed with a desire to hurl her away from him, and his drinking slowed as he struggled to piece things together and make sense of the dual opposing reactions.

The scents grew clearer. Familiar.

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