Page 100 of Bewitched By a Vampire

She looked back at Night and made her decision, one she hoped would be worth it as she gazed into his eyes.

Lilian turned to Beatrice—to her coven—her heart breaking and tears misting her eyes as magic rose to her fingertips.

“If you want Night, you’ll have to go through me.”

Chapter 27

Night drew his twin swords as Lilian’s words registered, together with her pain. He sensed the hurt in her, the fear, and he wanted to growl and curse at the same time. He had put her in this position by insisting on coming with her. If he hadn’t, she could have spoken with her coven safely. By accompanying her, he had given them what they wanted.

An opportunity to get their hands on him.

He was old enough to know when someone was setting him up as a martyr, and he wasn’t willing to be the sacrifice this fair-haired witch wanted in order to appease her bloodthirsty followers.

Lilian threw her hands forwards and several glowing violet orbs exploded from her palms, rocketing towards the group. She didn’t pause to see if they hit their marks. She pivoted on her heel and seized Night’s arm, tugging him around with her.

Night stood his ground, refusing to run, and she cast a pained look over her shoulder at him. The fear in her eyes struck him hard, but he couldn’t do as she wanted. He was sorry, let her see that in his eyes, but he wasn’t going to run from these witches.

If he did, they wouldn’t stop coming after Lilian.

The only way to keep her safe was to take these witches down, even when he knew that would hurt her. They were her family. She looked beyond him to the woman she had been speaking with and for a moment, she looked as if she would try to make him run again rather than fight, but then her jaw set in a hard line and her caramel-coloured eyes sparkled with bright silver stars. The magic he could sense coming off her grew in intensity, rolling over him in powerful waves, and she released his arm.

Lilian turned back to face the witches, her eyes narrowing on them, intense concentration etched on her beautiful face.

“Why don’t you all drop dead?” she bit out.

And surprise washed across her features.

It struck him that she had tried cursing them and it hadn’t worked.

The fair-haired witch smiled slowly.

Beside her, one with long silver hair and cold blue eyes laughed. “It won’t work. We’ve taken measures to ensure you can’t affect us with your powers. You can thank me and Maryon for that.”

The witch’s German accent lent a hard edge to her words that only made her sound crueller than Night already knew she was. This was the witch who had ordered the male guard to beat him and question him, and who had wanted to stick around to watch the show. The guard had called her Petra. Although Night had been in pain at the time, he recalled she had been bitterly disappointed when she had been called away from his cell.

Night set her as his first target, and the brunette, Maryon, as his second. The dark-haired witch had been the one to stand on him back in Norway, keeping him pinned to the floor when it hadn’t been necessary. He had been too weak and tired to fight back.

Not this time.

As he came to stand beside Lilian, he felt as if someone had supercharged him. He felt invincible. Whatever he needed to do in order to emerge the victor from this battle, he would and could do it. Nothing would stop him from protecting Lilian.

She attacked again, sweeping her arm out to launch three blue spears made of crackling light at the witches. They dodged them with ease, but ended up scattered by doing so, giving Night an opening. He grinned and kicked off, shooting into the midst of them, aiming for Petra.

The silver-haired witch slammed a hand into his chest and sent him flying backwards. He grunted as he hit something soft and took them down with him, and rolled heels over head to land on his feet in a crouch beside the fallen witch. He stabbed her through the heart with his right sword, not giving her a chance to retaliate, and launched upwards, springing back into action.

Two of the other witches saw what he had done and one screamed a name while the other attacked. He ducked beneath the twisting violet orb she launched at him and threw himself forwards into another roll, coming onto his feet behind her. He raised his sword to cut her down and growled as he spotted the orb swerving to track him.

Another orb struck it, and the two detonated. The explosion hurled Night and the witches away from each other, sending him sailing through the air. He twisted and tried to right himself, and braced when he realised he didn’t have time. He released his swords a split-second before hitting the grass hard and grunted as he rolled across it. The moment he came to a halt, he was back on his feet and sprinting towards his blades. He scooped them up and roared as he ran at one of the witches who had been thrown by the blast.

To his right, bright, colourful flashes of light drove the darkness back, dampening his vision on that side. He kept his senses fixed on Lilian, making sure she was safe, and crossed his arms as he closed in on the witch who was picking herself up off the grass, looking dazed.

Night reached her and uncrossed his arms at speed, and his twin blades cut through her head, severing it. He followed through, bringing his swords down to his sides, the swiftness of the action ridding them of blood. It splattered across the grass, the scent of it filling the air, mingling with the coppery tang of magic.

Making his mouth water.

Two down, ten to go.

He turned his sights on Petra.

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