Don't Hex and Drive (Stay a Spell #2) - Juliette Cross Page 0,1
I wasn’t surprised by his striking beauty. So typical. His heavy lashes framed whiskey-warm brown eyes. His perfectly square jaw and well-defined cheekbones were all ridiculously symmetrical. What did I expect from a vampire? An old one, at that. His magic hummed in the air, tinged with power and control and the trait I hated most about his kind. Seduction. They all wore it like a coat, parading it around like proud peacocks. So annoying. But this one? It sealed his aura of magic like a second skin. Like it wasn’t a secondary trait at all, but a natural birthright.
Wait. Not perfect, actually. His left brow was bisected by a thin white scar that disappeared into his hairline. It was hard to see at first in the dim light. So he didn’t use glamour to mask his flaws? Interesting.
His concerned expression shifted, his mouth quirking up with one of those smirky smiles that cocky guys flashed when they thought they could charm their way out of a situation. Uh, no. I don’t think so.
“Aren’t vampires supposed to have superhuman eyesight? Say, to avoid hitting an innocent traveler on the road?”
His nostrils flared as he inhaled a deep breath. Recognition shone in his eyes. His charming smile slipped, his expression changing to…amused interest? “Aren’t witches supposed to have telekinetic powers? Say, to avoid being hit by cars?”
For a moment, I was completely distracted by the smooth, deep timbre of his voice and his subtle accent. Indian, definitely, but something more. The slow, intentional care of each word reminded me of a professor from Russia I had in college. His accent was strong and soft at the same time. This vampire’s was similar, liquid and lilting with an undercurrent of firm control. Casual dominance. If there was such a thing.
His gaze traveled down my body, taking in my forest green Boho skirt and navy blue top. “And why are you riding a bike at night wearing such dark colors, Mistress Witch?”
Unbelievable! He was blaming me for hitting me with his stupid car? The reason I wasn’t wearing bright-colored clothes, which I did if I rode at night, was because I hadn’t planned on staying at Tia’s past our lunch date. But lunch turned into afternoon tea, then we’d gotten into a heated discussion about night-blooming medicinal plants, and I left too late. But this dumb vampire didn’t deserve an explanation.
“Here, let me help you up.” He leaned forward and grabbed me by the forearm, which I quickly wrenched away.
“No, thank you. I’m fine.”
He eased back onto his heels and raised his palms up in a hands-off gesture, his dark eyes shimmering silver for a second. Freaking, nervy vampires. Driving around like bats out of hell. Thinking they owned the world.
Ignoring him, I reached for the strap of my canvas handbag and looped it over my head to cross my chest. I flattened my palms on the concrete and pushed up, hissing in a breath. I’d scraped my palms on the fall.
“Let me—“
“No,” I snapped, avoiding his gaze when he made a frustrated noise in his throat.
Managing to stand all on my own, ungracefully, but still on my own, I took a step toward the front of the car and whimpered at the sharp pain. My leg crumpled, but before I hit the pavement—again—the vampire reached over to steady me with an arm around my waist.
“Do you mind?” I wriggled and batted at his hand to get him off.
He released me. “Look,” he said, seeming to force himself to keep calm, “I’m just trying to help.”
“Where’s my phone?” I muttered, digging through my bag while leaning all of my weight on my uninjured leg. I could call Jules to come get me. “Dammit, where is it?”
The vampire walked away, leaned over to the pavement, and then returned with his palm out to me. He was holding my phone, fully cracked glass and the screen frozen on the weather app for some odd reason.
“Just great!” I snatched it from him and tapped the screen, knowing I’d get nothing.
“I’m seriously sorry about this. Why don’t you let me drop you off at home at least? I’ll fix your bike. I’ll replace your phone. I promise.”
I glared at him like he’d lost his damn mind. “I’m not getting in the car with you. Are you crazy? And, yes, you are paying for my bicycle.” I shoved the useless cellphone in my handbag. “But I have phone insurance.”