Enchant the Night - Amanda Ashley Page 0,1

upon the weak, drug dealers who sold death in pretty pills to innocent children, politicians who betrayed their country for cash and power.

All thought of the past faded as his gaze settled on a young woman emerging from the shop in front of him. She was petite and comely. A cloud of golden wheat-colored hair fell over her shoulders and down her back in a riot of waves. She radiated youth and vitality as she hurried down the street, her stiletto heels clicking on the sidewalk.

Increasing his stride, he moved up beside her and caught her arm. A few quiet words calmed her fears as he led her into a shadowy alley between two large buildings. She stared at him blankly, eyes unblinking, lips slightly parted as he caressed her cheek.

He had intended to drink deeply, but something in the depths of her midnight-blue eyes changed his mind. Muttering an oath, he drew her into his embrace, bent his head to her neck, and satisfied his most basic need.

Chapter 2

Feeling as if she was wandering in a fog, Callie Hathaway walked to her car and drove home. Plagued by an overwhelming thirst, she hurried into the kitchen and filled a glass with water. When that didn’t satisfy her, she gulped down a can of root beer. It helped but only a little. Tossing the empty container into the trash, she wondered why she was so thirsty. And why the side of her neck tingled. And why she couldn’t remember what had happened between the time she’d left Sally’s Boutique and the moment she’d slid behind the wheel of her hot-pink VW.

Brow furrowed, she padded into the living room and sank down on the sofa, a throw pillow clutched to her chest as she tried to remember that missing half hour. Was she losing her mind? Developing Alzheimer’s? Had she suffered a stroke? Been kidnapped by aliens? She had never experienced any memory loss before. At least she didn’t think she had. But how was she to know? Feeling suddenly tense, she went into the bathroom and filled the tub, thinking a warm bath might help her relax.

Later, submerged to her shoulders in lavender-scented bubbles, she closed her eyes.

A tall man dressed all in black. Deep, dark eyes that captured hers. Strong arms holding her close. A faint prick in the side of her neck. A sudden sense of warmth that permeated her whole being . . .

Callie bolted upright with a start, water sloshing over the sides of the tub as she glanced around the room, her heart pounding as the memory of what had happened that night flooded her mind.

The man had bitten her!

* * *

In his lair on the other side of the city, Quill’s head snapped up as the woman he had preyed upon earlier woke to the realization of what had happened to her in the alley. How was that even possible? He had wiped the memory from her mind. He frowned into the darkness. No one had ever resisted his compulsion to forget. How had this female managed to do so?

Rising, he paced the floor of his lair as he considered his options. There were really only two. He could drain her dry or he could wipe the recollection from her mind again and hope this time the memory stayed submerged.

Killing her was the best solution. He hadn’t existed this long by being careless. Not only would it solve his problem, but it would allow him to taste her again, something he had been desperately wanting to do since the first crimson drop had slid over his tongue.

It had been decades since he had taken a human life to preserve his own existence. But sometimes, like now, it was necessary.

Tomorrow night, he would seek her out and do what had to be done.

* * *

Quill rose with the setting of the sun, showered and dressed, then left his lair. Opening his preternatural senses, he pinpointed the scent of the woman and followed it to a small, single-story house on a narrow street. Lights shone behind the windows. A faint breeze stirred the wind chimes on the front porch.

Veiling himself in shadow, he settled down to wait.

Hours passed. Like all predators, he had the patience of Job.

Focusing his attention on the house, he heard the woman moving from room to room, smelled the fried chicken she cooked for dinner, heard the voice of a local news anchor as he reported the events of the day. At