Page 3 of Bewitched By a Vampire

It had never happened.

Bastian slipped into the back seat of the car and Night rounded the vehicle, moving to the side of it nearest the house and giving it room to leave. His brother popped out again and looked over the roof of the car at him.

“Watch the female.”

Watch the female? What kind of cryptic request was that? While Night was trying to figure out the meaning of that demand, the car pulled away and he was left standing in the driveway, frowning at the gravel and wondering what Bastian had meant.

There were so many choices.

The female was a lover. The female needed protection from something. The female was an enemy and was incarcerated in the house, something which wouldn’t surprise him since many people had tried to claim the honour of killing one of the Van der Gardes over the years.

All had failed, of course.

His senses sharpened and he looked over his right shoulder at the butler, one of Bastian’s owned humans.

The dark-haired man bowed his head, pressing his gloved hand to the breast of his formal black and white attire. “Shall I retrieve your luggage, sir?”

Night nodded and shunned the uneasy feeling that went through him as the servant moved to carry out his request. He was never getting used to someone waiting on him, not again. His family had owned human servants when he had been living at the chateau in Switzerland, but since moving away, he had only been around them at Bastian’s house.

Bastian had a horde of owned humans, each with the scar of his bite on their neck. His brother was traditional that way. It was an aristocrat thing. A show of power. A simple exchange of blood made the human docile, a slave to the vampire. He supposed it was one way of staffing such a large house.

It wasn’t to Night’s tastes. He didn’t really care that humans were used as slaves for work, sex and blood, but he didn’t own any himself, despite how many times Bastian had extolled the virtues of having servants. Night’s apartment was small in comparison to this country house. He didn’t need someone to tend to his home for him, or for blood and sex. He preferred to get those things from a different female each time.

Speaking of which.

He smiled slowly and walked towards the steps up to the entrance, intending to go to his quarters and kick back on the four-poster bed and start planning his first soiree.

Only he hit an obstacle.

Night stopped in the doorway.

Standing in the middle of the elegant double-height foyer, her back to the twin wooden staircases that led up to the first floor and her head bent, her eyes fixed on the Italian marble floor, was a woman.

Thefemale?

Her dark chocolate hair tumbled around her shoulders, brushing the black material of her short dress, and her hands were twisted in front of her white apron.

Night studied her. She wasn’t tall. Had to stand a good nine inches shorter than his six-three. She was dressed as a maid, which meant she was one of Bastian’s servants. She was rigid despite her deferential appearance. Afraid.

He drew down a breath as Bastian’s butler moved past him, carrying his luggage towards the right staircase, and several other servants milled around the room, going about their business. As the foyer cleared, he caught her scent and almost gasped.

She was mortal.

And she wasn’t owned.

He knew because while he could look at the other females in the house and had no desire to do anything with them, he couldn’t stop the flood of hunger that made his fangs itch as she slowly lifted her head, her caramel-coloured eyes inching up to meet his. Desire struck like a thunderbolt, zinging through his bones and burning up his blood, and it only worsened as her dark hair fell away from her neck.

Revealing the smooth pale curves of it to his eyes.

Eyes that zeroed in on the fact she wore no marks.

The knowledge that Bastian didn’t own her, that no vampire had marked her, had his fangs lengthening and his mouth watering.

Gods.

What new hell had his brother thrown him into this time?

Chapter 2