Page 35 of Enchant the Dawn

“Oh. I trust you wiped the incident from her mind.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. I guess I was tired of living a lie. I’m falling in love with her. Sooner or later, she’ll have to know the truth. It’s probably better this way.” Assuming she was willing to see him again. Which he doubted.

“Perhaps. Did you kill the Knight?”

“No. He was wearing his cloak. I never even saw him. I’m sure he didn’t follow me to Maddy’s house. He couldn’t have trailed me that far on foot. And there were no cars behind me on the drive to her house,” he said, stripping off his ruined shirt. “I warded her place against intruders before I left, just in case.”

“I guess now we can concentrate on the reason we came here.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry, Dom,” she murmured, touching his cheek. “I know how much you care for her.”

He lifted his shoulder in a negligent shrug. “One good thing came out of it. The hunter left his scent on the stake. I’ll know him if I see him again.”

* * *

Philip 51 didn’t remove his cloak until he was in his rented house, behind a locked and bolted door. Flinging it aside, he dropped into a chair and clasped his hands to still their trembling. He had hunted with his brethren, but never alone. And he’d panicked like a novice when he met the vampire face-to-face and felt the power radiating from him. Driven by fear and a deep-seated instinct for survival, he had driven his stake into Falconer’s chest—and missed his heart by inches. Thank the Lord. Had he killed the vampire, his own blood would be drying on the ground beside that of Leon 48.

Stumbling to his feet, he paced the floor. How was he going to report his botched attempt to the Elder Knight? It was well-known that their leader had little patience or sympathy for those who failed, no matter the reason.

A cold chill ran down his spine when a thick mist appeared in front of him and solidified into the Elder Knight’s warlock. “Jasper.”

“The Elder Knight is not happy with you,” the warlock said, his tone mild.

“I . . . I . . .” He swallowed hard. “It wasn’t my fault.”

“No?”

“I . . . I grabbed him, but he slipped out of my grasp and disappeared.”

“Do not bother lying to me.” Jasper settled onto the sofa. “You lack the courage to be a Knight of the Dark Wood.”

“That’s not true!”

“Indeed, it is. I am here to strip you of your cloak and your weapons,” Jasper said, picking up the cloak from the floor. “I’ll take your medallion and your weapons now.”

With a growing sense of dread, Philip surrendered them to the warlock, one by one. “Is . . . is that all the Elder Knight requires of me?”

“Sadly, no,” Jasper said, and with a wave of his hand, he sucked the life from the disgraced Knight, until all that remained was a small pile of gray dust.

Whistling softly, the warlock vanished from the house.

* * *

Claret materialized inside the house after Jasper disappeared. She had seen the incident between Dominic and the Knight and had followed the hunter home. She had been about to go inside to question the man when she sensed the warlock’s presence. Still invisible, she had peered in the window and listened to their conversation and witnessed what had followed.

Interesting, she thought, that the wizard, who had once been in her employ—until a witch turned him into a great black vulture—now worked for the Knights of the Dark Wood.

Claret smiled as she returned to her lair. With a little thought, she might find a way to turn things to her advantage and thereby gain power over Dominic. There were many options. She could exert her power over Jasper and force him to help her capture the vampire. She could kidnap the witch and obtain the same results, although the thought of facing Ava was daunting. With any other man, she would merely seduce him and then ensnare him, but Dominic seemed to be immune to her, may his soul rot in hell. Jasper seemed the safest way. He was powerful in his own right, though not as powerful as was she. As for the Elder Knight, he was a warlock to be reckoned with, something she hoped to avoid.

She was nothing if not persistent, Claret mused as the darkness faded from the sky. Where there was a will, there was a way. And one way or another, Dominic would be hers.

She licked her lips as she imagined having access to the Hungarian vampire’s blood whenever she wished, feeling the power of it flow through her, savoring the sweet taste of it as she drank and drank. . . .

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