Blood Kissed (Lizzie Grace 1)

“I hope he does, for their sake.” She took a sip of tea. “It might be better if we skip investigating the bloodstone tonight. You look wiped—”

“Yes, but the waning moon hasn’t the power of the full. I really think we’ll need it—”

“What you need,” she said, in a tone that would brook no argument. “Is rest—something the doctors were quite adamant about, and something you’re yet to properly do. Besides, a waning moon still holds plenty of power, and between it and us, there shouldn’t be a problem.”

She was probably right, of course, but the need to unravel the mystery of the bloodstone and the man who had spelled it nevertheless pulsed through

me.

Time was running out; he might still have people to wreak havoc on in this reservation, but if we didn’t catch him soon, we wouldn’t.

“Now that’s a cheery thought,” Belle muttered.

Wasn’t it just? “Are you going to call Zak now that I’m not having a go at the pendant?”

She hesitated, and then shook her head. “There’s plenty of time ahead to further explore the delights of that man. It’ll probably do us both good to have an early night.”

I nodded and finished both my meal and the tea, by which time, my eyes were becoming so heavy it was hard to keep them open. I eventually gave up and just went to bed. Sleep hit almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.

I woke with a start some hours later. My heart raced and the bitter taste of fear filled my mouth. For several seconds I did nothing more than lie there, the blankets pulled up close to my nose and my eyes wide as I stared into the darkness. There was no sound other than the slight ticking of the old clock downstairs, and I had no idea why I’d woken in such a state.

And then I felt it.

A tremor. Not in earth, but rather across my metaphysical senses.

Someone was attacking the wards and spells that protected this place—and it didn’t take a genius to figure out who. I all but fell out of bed then scooped up a T-shirt from the floor and my phone from the bedside table before bolting for the door—and had to do a quick two-step to avoid crashing into Belle.

“What the fuck is going on?” She thrust a hand through her wildly matted hair. “There’s been no alarm, but it feels like—”

“The bastard is attacking our spells and wards.” I gave her my phone. “Ring Aiden. I’ll go downstairs and bolster the spells.”

“Be careful,” she said, even as she unlocked my phone. “He’s not alone.”

“How many can you sense?”

“One other.” She wrinkled her nose. “A hired thug.”

“Can you incapacitate him?” I pulled on my T-shirt as I headed for the stairs.

“Yes, but not until I ring Aiden. Go.”

My footsteps echoed as I clattered down the stairs—something the men outside would undoubtedly hear. It didn’t really matter—the vampire would have felt it the minute I became aware of his attack.

I ran through the dark room and placed my hand on the old front door, my fingers spread wide. The energy that pulsed across my fingertips was heated and angry. He was close, so damn close, to fully unraveling the threads that protected us—and it was doubtful the wards alone would stand up to him once he did. They just weren’t powerful enough on their own.

Fear surged, but I ruthlessly thrust it aside. I had no time for it—I needed every ounce of control and concentration I could muster.

Through narrowed eyes, I saw both the failing threads of our magic, and the blot of his pressing down on them, undoing them, destroying them.

“You’re not getting in that easy,” I muttered, and began pushing back. The remaining threads flared as I carefully picked them up and wove a strengthening spell into them. It would drain me faster than adding additional layers to the protecting spell, but the latter would take time, and that was the one thing we didn’t really have right now.

The blot of darkness grew heavier, the weight of it threatening to buckle my knees. I forced them to lock and kept going, but even as the remaining threads thickened and grew stronger, he pushed back with a force so great my knees did buckle, hitting the floor so hard a grunt of pain escaped.

That collapse saved my life.

The inside of the door where my face had been exploded inward, filling the air with a deadly shower of splinters. A heartbeat later, something hit the rear of the café and what sounded like an entire mountain of plates and cups crashed to the floor.

I didn’t look around. I didn’t even twitch. I simply kept my hands pressed to the door, my fingers enmeshed in the remaining threads, uttering every spell of strength and resistance I knew.