Page 15 of Bewitched by the Fruit Bat King (The Bewitching Hour #3)

Under the Lake

Willow

W e wind through dense forest, the kind of old growth that makes you feel small and young.

The fading sunlight barely penetrates the canopy, but Kane navigates the twisting roads like he's driven them a thousand times.

I focus on the trees instead of how aware I am of every movement he makes.

The bond isn't helping, humming like a live wire between us in the confined space of his car.

The forest gradually gives way to Lake Norman's waterfront neighborhoods, past sprawling homes with private docks and manicured lawns.

Moonlight silvers the lake's surface, and I gather my courage.

I have questions I need answered, about him, about what this bond means.

About why, despite everything I know about vampires, I can't seem to stay away.

"You know," I say as we turn down yet another winding road, "when normal people ask someone to dinner, they usually mention where they're taking them."

"When have I ever given you the impression I was normal?" He handles the car with the same effortless control he seems to approach everything with. Show-off.

The neighborhoods thin out, giving way to an unmarked drive lined with ancient oaks.

"Kane." I narrow my eyes at him. "Where exactly are we going?"

"Somewhere special." The corner of his mouth curves up, and the bond pulses with something that feels suspiciously like excitement. "Trust me?"

The question hangs between us, weighted with more meaning than just tonight's destination. I'm still not sure I should trust him - he's a vampire, immortal and dangerous in ways I'm only beginning to understand. But something in me wants to, despite every warning I've ever heard.

"We'll see," I say finally, and his smile grows wider.

We round a final bend and what appears before us can only be described as a fairy tale.

A grand Victorian mansion rises from the lakeside, its red brick and limestone walls softened by climbing roses and wisteria.

Warm light spills from dozens of windows, each one seeming to dance with its own inner radiance.

The wraparound porch extends out over the lake itself, connected to a series of floating docks by elegant wooden walkways.

"What is this place?" I ask, unable to hide my awe as Kane helps me from the car - ever the gentleman, even if his smirk screams 'smug vampire king.'

"The Moonwater Club." He says it casually, like he's not practically vibrating with pride through our bond. "My own little passion project."

"Little?" I laugh, taking in the sprawling mansion. "Since when does the CEO of Kane Industries do anything small?"

"You wound me," he says, but his eyes sparkle with amusement. "Though I suppose running Haven's Cross's most exclusive supernatural club isn't exactly keeping a low profile."

A well-dressed couple emerges from the front doors, pausing to bow their heads respectfully to Kane - their king, whether I'm comfortable with that fact or not. The woman's evening gown seems to float around her, and I'm almost certain her companion's feet aren't quite touching the ground.

"How have I never heard of this place?"

"We're rather selective about our clientele." Kane's hand settles at the small of my back as he guides me up the steps, and I try to ignore how natural it feels. "The waiting list is currently several decades long."

"Decades?" I shake my head as we enter a foyer that would make Gatsby jealous.

"Some have been waiting centuries." His voice holds that infuriating note of satisfaction he gets when showing off. "Though being the owner does have its privileges. And being my-"

"Don't." I cut him off before he can say 'mate.' I'm not ready for that conversation. Not yet. But I can feel his amusement through the bond as he leads me deeper into the club.

"The club is just the surface," Kane says as we pass through the main dining room, where supernatural elite sip drinks that definitely aren't wine. "What I really want to show you is below."

He leads me down a corridor that seems to get older with every step, modern fixtures giving way to gas lamps that cast dancing shadows on stone walls.

The corridor begins to move down at a leisurely slant.

The air grows thick with age and magic, reminding me this area's history goes far deeper than most humans know.

"You know Lake Norman wasn't always a lake," Kane says. "In 1963, they flooded the area, created the reservoir. But there was something here long before that. Something they never found."

We reach a set of ornate doors that look ancient, symbols carved into the wood that make my eyes want to slide away. Kane places his hand on them, and they swing open silently.

"The paranormal community has been here since before the Battle of Cowan's Ford," he continues as we descend a spiraling staircase.

"Before the Revolutionary War. We had our own settlement, hidden from human eyes.

When they decided to flood the valley...

" He pauses, a smile playing at his lips. "Well, let's just say we adapted."

The staircase opens into what looks like an airlock, but the architecture is unlike anything I've ever seen - flowing lines and impossible angles that speak of magic as much as engineering.

"Kane..." My voice trails off as he operates some mechanism I can't quite follow.

"Trust me?" he asks again, holding out his hand.

I should say no. Should demand answers about a dozen other things first. But I take his hand anyway, and the airlock door opens to reveal something impossible.

A city stretches out before us, preserved in a massive magical bubble beneath the lake.

Buildings that look centuries old stand alongside structures that could be from an alien world, all lit by something that resembles moonlight but couldn't possibly be.

Streets wind between them, populated by beings that would send most humans running for the hills - or questioning their sanity.

"Welcome to Old Haven," Kane says softly, watching my face. "The true heart of Haven's Cross."

My breath fogs against what seems like nothing at all - the magical barrier between us and millions of gallons of lake water. Below, water nymphs dance through streams of moonlight, their forms shifting between solid and liquid in a city that officially doesn't exist.

"How..." I trail off, pressing my hand against the barrier. It feels solid, like glass but warmer. More alive.

"The original settlement was built around natural ley lines," Kane explains, standing close enough that I can feel his presence like a physical thing.

"When the power company announced the dam project, the most powerful practitioners of the time came together.

Instead of fighting the flood, they used it as cover.

The water actually amplifies the old magic. "

"But how has no one discovered this?" I ask, watching a group of merfolk glide past outside the barrier.

"Very carefully maintained secrets," Kane's voice holds a hint of steel beneath the casual tone.

"Even most supernaturals in Haven's Cross don't know about this place.

It's strictly need-to-know. Those water level regulations everyone thinks are about protecting the shoreline and wildlife?

" His lips quirk up. "I may have had something to do with getting those written into law. "

The platform descends, giving me a view that steals my breath.

The buildings below are perfectly preserved - a snapshot of pre-reservoir life, from the old school to the general store.

Water nymphs tend to gardens that float in the water pockets between structures, their laughter carrying through the barrier like music.

"That's the old courthouse," Kane gestures. "The British never found it, and we've made sure no one else has either. The beings who live here - they depend on that secrecy."

Through one of the water pockets, something massive shifts in the depths of the lake. Something that definitely isn't a bass or catfish. I jump back, nearly colliding with Kane.

"Please tell me that's just a really big catfish."

His laugh rumbles behind me. "Not exactly. Though they do enjoy the occasional fish treat."

"They?" I spin to face him. "There are more of whatever that was?"

"Lots more." He seems far too amused by my reaction. "But they're not on tonight's agenda."

"There's an agenda?" I raise an eyebrow at him. "How very CEO of you."

"I do love a good business plan." The platform shifts, carrying us toward what looks like a private garden enclosed in its own bubble. "Though I should warn you - this one involves dinner."

"And here I thought this was just another investment opportunity," I say dryly, trying to mask how the bond hums at our proximity.

"Oh, it's a long-term investment." His smile holds enough heat to make me grateful for the cool water surrounding our bubble. "One I'm very committed to."

"At least you're transparent about your schemes."

The platform stops at the garden entrance, and I have to bite back a gasp. A table for two sits amid flowering vines and plants I've never seen before. Tiny lights float like fireflies, casting everything in a warm glow that makes the water beyond feel more magical than menacing.

"This is..." I trail off, taking in the intimate setting.

"Mine," Kane says simply. "My own little sanctuary down here. I thought..." He hesitates, and I feel a flash of uncertainty through our bond. "I thought you might appreciate it."

The table is already set with covered dishes, and as Kane pulls out my chair, I catch scents that make my mouth water. He takes his seat across from me, and for a moment we just look at each other in the floating light.

"So," I say, trying to break the intensity of the moment, "do you bring all your dates to your secret underwater garden?"

His lips quirk up. "This garden has been in my family since before the lake. Though I'll admit, the underwater view is a more recent addition." He gestures to the floating lights. "My mother used to tend these plants herself. Said they were too precious to trust to anyone else."

"Used to?"

Something softens in his expression. "She passed the responsibility to me about a century ago. Said it was time I learned to nurture something besides my business empire." His smile turns wry. "I think she was hoping it would make me settle down."

"Did it?"

"Well, you're the first person I've brought here who isn't family." Through our bond, I feel the weight of that admission. "Something about you makes me want to share the real parts of my world, not just the carefully curated version most people see."

"So you're telling me," I say, reaching for my wine glass, "that the fearsome vampire king has a secret garden where he grows... are those glowing pomegranates?"

Kane's lips twitch. "Among other things. Though I'd advise against eating those particular fruits unless you're prepared for a very long nap. Some say they're where the Persephone myth originated."

"Of course they are." I lean closer to examine the luminescent fruit. "And I suppose next you'll tell me that's actually ambrosia growing over there?"

"No, that's just a very temperamental variety of moonflower." He sounds almost defensive. "Though getting them to bloom underwater was... challenging."

The bond ripples with something that feels suspiciously like pride as I take in the sprawling vines. "Is that why you created your company? To have somewhere to experiment with magical agriculture?"

"Not exactly." Kane's expression shifts, becoming more serious. "Though I suppose that's part of what I wanted to show you tonight."

"I thought this was about stamps," I tease, but there's something in his tone that makes me set down my wine glass.

He winks. "Sure you did." He stands, moving to one of the glowing fruit trees. "What do you know about vampires?"

"Just what everyone knows from movies and books, I guess.

" The bond pulses, and I find myself wanting to move closer despite myself.

It's not that I believe all the fear-mongering about vampires - I know better than that.

But the few facts I do know feel important when considering a fated mate bond: immortal, incredibly powerful, and needing blood to survive.

They are a very reclusive race usually. Marcus had been the only vampire that had ever been willing to even talk to me, as far as I know.

They stay well hidden usually. That's a lot to process. "That you need blood to survive."

"Some do." His smile is gentle. "But most of us prefer a different diet."

The fruit in his hands pulses with its own light, casting strange shadows across his face. "Hollywood got it wrong. The blood-drinking vampires? They're the minority. Most of us, including me, are fruit bat vampires. We feed on fruits, not blood."

I stare at him, my mind struggling to process this revelation. "You... don't drink blood?"

"No," he says simply. "Never have, never will."

The relief that floods through me I feel through every fiber of my being.

I finally understand and can see it. All this time I've been trying to figure out how a blood-drinking immortal and a human could possibly build a life together. But this... this changes everything. Well, other than to fully complete our fated mate bond. The bite is a requirement for any species, but that’s only once. I can deal with once.

I think back to that night, to the small bat that had seemed so harmless before transforming into... well, into the irritatingly attractive man currently watching me process this revelation.

"That's why you were flying that night," I say slowly. "When I cast the spell. You weren't just shapeshifting for convenience – you were feeding."

"I was actually checking on a new variety of night-blooming pear." His admission carries a hint of embarrassment. "The transformation usually happens in more... controlled circumstances."

"You mean with clothes nearby?"

"Typically, yes." The bond sparkles with shared amusement. "Though I have to admit, your reaction to my sudden appearance was... unique."

"I panicked!"

"You threw me out of your own shop. Magically." His voice holds more admiration than annoyance. "Do you know how long it's been since anyone managed that?"

"Well, you did appear naked in my store after hours. What was I supposed to do, offer you tea?"

"It would have been polite." But he's smiling, and through the bond I feel genuine warmth. "Though that incident changed things."

"What do you mean?"

Something tenses in his shoulders as he looks away, though I can't guess why. When he turns back, his expression is carefully controlled. "There's more you need to know. About our history, about what's happening now..."