Enchant the Night - Amanda Ashley Page 0,48

happened over a hundred years ago. Still, it had been just one night. After all this time, did it really matter?

Looking away, she shook her head. “I don’t know.” She felt his gaze resting on her as she remembered the kisses they had shared, the way he always made her feel safe, how he had encouraged her to pursue her magic. She had cared for him, tended his wounds, nourished him with her life’s blood. Was she going to let something that had happened long before she was born come between them?

She slid a glance at him. He was tall and dark, strong, and a bit arrogant. A powerful being. And yet he needed her.

But, more than that, he loved her.

And she loved him. “No,” she said at last. “It doesn’t make any difference.”

“Callie!” He was reaching for her when, with a hiss, the black cat sprang between them, her claws raking Quill’s cheek as she twisted in midair and landed in Callie’s lap, back arched and tail straight up in the air.

“Bad cat!” Callie exclaimed. “Quill, I’m so sorry.”

He wiped the blood from his face with the back of his hand. “I guess I should have told you—cats and vampires don’t mix.”

Chapter 19

Trey 95 stood outside the woman’s house again. His medallion told him the vampire wasn’t in residence at the moment. But the woman was there. He could see her shadow moving from room to room behind the curtains.

Frowning, he glanced at his watch. It was only ten. Perhaps the vampire was hunting. He checked his weapons—silver-bladed knife, vial of holy water, wooden stake honed to a fine point.

Satisfied, he returned his attention to the house. He had taken an oath to do no harm to mortals, but he reasoned within himself that holding the woman captive to get his hands on the vampire wouldn’t cause her any harm. A little mental distress, perhaps, but no lasting physical damage.

He thrust aside the consequences he would face if he was caught here. Another lashing was worth the risk.

Besides, if he took Quill’s head, he would be a hero.

He closed his eyes a moment, imagining what it would be like to be hailed as the Knight who had destroyed one of the oldest Hungarian vampires in existence. He would be crowned with honor, his previous shame and embarrassment forgotten.

Trey 95 smiled inwardly. He would make his move later tonight, when he was less apt to be seen by her neighbors.

And if the vampire came home in the meantime, so much the better.

Fading into the shadows, Trey 95 shoved his hands into his pockets. He was a predator of sorts, and like all predators, he had learned the infinite value of patience.

Clearing his mind, he settled down to wait.

* * *

Vivian switched off the TV, made sure all the doors and windows were locked, and readied herself for bed. She wondered how Callie and her mystery man were getting along. There was something not quite right about him. She shook her head, unable to put her finger on why she felt that way. But it worried her. Callie didn’t have a lot of experience with men—especially older men—and Vivian didn’t want to see her best friend get hurt. Maybe she’d give her a call tomorrow.

Deciding to read for a while before going to sleep, Viv grabbed a book from the shelf and padded into the guest room. Settling on the bed, she propped the pillow behind her back and flipped to page one. By page ten, she had lost herself in the story, imagining herself as the damsel in distress being rescued from certain death by the fair-haired hero.

* * *

From his place in the shadows, Trey 95 watched the house grow dark. He waited another half an hour, giving the woman time to settle down for the night, and then he ghosted across the street.

On the porch, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a small set of tools. Selecting one, he slid it into the lock, turned it just so, and the door opened with a quiet snick. A safety chain slowed him for only a moment.

Slipping the lockpick back in his pocket, he stepped inside. In the faint glow of a penlight, he made his way through the house.

The master bedroom was empty.

Continuing down the hall, he peered into the next bedroom. It was also empty.

Brow furrowed, he opened the door to the next room. The woman lay with her back toward him, her breathing slow and regular.