Enchant the Night - Amanda Ashley Page 0,2

eight, she switched to a movie channel. At ten, she fixed a cup of hot chocolate.

Shortly thereafter, she bathed and went to bed.

Thwarted, Quill stared at the front door. He was the most powerful creature on earth, yet something as flimsy as a threshold had the power to repel him.

Cursing softly, he willed himself to the next town in search of prey.

The woman had been lucky tonight, he mused. But, sooner or later, she would leave the safety of her home. And when she did, he would be waiting.

* * *

Callie woke late on Sunday morning, unsettled by the fact that she had dreamed of the dark-haired man in the long, black coat again. He had invaded her dreams the night before, too, although that one had been more like a nightmare, filled with gruesome images of bodies drained of blood and hideous eyes as red as hellfire. And always the man in the long, black coat had been there, lurking just out of sight. Who was he? And what did her dreams mean?

Recalling what had happened Friday night had kept her in the house all day Saturday. Was she going to hide inside today, too? And what was she really hiding from? Some memory that couldn’t possibly be real? A dream that made no sense? Nightmares couldn’t hurt you.

She lifted a hand to her neck, felt an odd tingle in her fingertips. Had he really bitten her? Or had she imagined the whole incident?

Moving to the bedroom window, she parted the curtains and glanced outside. It was a beautiful morning, the sky a clear bright blue. A lovely day for a walk, she decided. And maybe lunch at her favorite hamburger stand and an early movie.

* * *

Callie had planned to be home well before dark. Not because she was afraid, she told herself, even though she knew, deep down, that it was a lie. She was afraid. However, like the best laid plans, hers didn’t work out. She ran into her best friend, Vivian, at the movies and when it was over, Vivian insisted on going out to dinner at Tony’s Italian Restaurant. If there was one thing Callie couldn’t resist, it was Tony’s pasta. He made the best spaghetti and meatballs in the city, not to mention the world’s best garlic bread.

“So,” Vivian said, after they’d ordered, “what’s new and exciting?”

“I’m exhausted. I photographed a wedding last week. It was the biggest job I’ve ever had. Ten bridesmaids and ten ushers. Not to mention the parents of the bride and groom and their combined siblings, which ranged in age from five to twenty-five. Oh, and the aunts and uncles and grandparents, of course. Naturally, the bride wanted a picture with her mom and dad and then with her whole family. And the groom needed pictures of his whole family. The worst of it was, they wanted the photos taken in the park across from the church, which just happened to have swings and slides. Trying to keep all those kids corralled was impossible!”

“I don’t envy you, that’s for sure.”

“And then there was the reception and all the usual photos—first dance, cutting the cake, throwing the bouquet. Pictures of the guests and toasts to the bride and groom. Thankfully, I don’t have anything else scheduled for a while.” Callie didn’t really need to work, but doing so gave her a sense of purpose. Most of the time, she loved what she did, and the fact that she set her own schedule was the icing on the cake. “How are you doing?”

“Same old, same old. I’m thinking of looking for a new job.”

“Really? Why?”

“My old boss is retiring and his son is taking over.” Vivian shook her head. “You don’t need an assistant, do you?”

“Not at the moment, sorry. Are you really going to quit?”

“Probably not.” Vivian worked for Dean and Shipman, an up-and-coming software company that offered good pay and excellent benefits.

They made small talk over dinner, reminiscing about old boyfriends and all the crazy things the two of them had done in college. They’d lost touch for a while, until Viv had moved back home.

“Are you dating anyone?” Vivian asked.

“Not since Bryan.” Callie had met him at a friend’s wedding earlier in the year. They had dated for a couple of months. He’d been nice enough, but they’d had little in common and even though he’d been easy to get along with, he’d been as dull as dishwater. She’d felt bad when she’d broken up with him,