Bewitch (Vampire Erotic Theatre Romance Series Book 5) (2 page)

That didn’t seem like a fair fight to Payne.

He ran towards the fray and broke through the dust. Storeowners screamed at the fighters, some of them ferrying their wares inside where it was safe and others standing in front of them, physically protecting them.

The female he had seen through the cloud of dust stood her ground before him, feet spread shoulder width apart beneath the hem of her drab black dress, the long chestnut waves of her hair tangled in the pieces of straw sticking out of it. Grey dust sparkled across her backside. She must have hit whatever had exploded and sent the dust into the air.

Four large males stood opposite her, each of them hunkered low, assessing her.

They were witches too, judging by the coven emblem stitched onto the breast of their loose white shirts and the fact they were all wearing matching dark brown trousers, like a uniform. Payne raised an eyebrow at the elaborate lacing down the front of their shirts, and on their trousers. Where had their coven bought their outfits? Or when for that matter? They looked like something straight out of the eighteenth century. Although, the female of their species didn’t exactly dress in modern attire either. His gaze slid back to her, slowly taking in her dull black dress, trying to pierce the material to see what curves it concealed.

One of the men shuffled, bracing his feet shoulder-width apart on the cobblestones, preparing to attack.

What did they want with the female?

Her heartbeat was frantic. Frightened.

One of the males lunged at her and she turned on the spot, threw herself forwards and rolled towards Payne. She found her feet just a few metres in front of him and her eyes widened as they met his. Smudges of black ash dotted her pale face but Payne didn’t notice them.

She was beautiful.

Entrancing.

Her silvery eyes sparkled like stars.

The male grabbed her from behind and leaned back, lifting her feet off the floor. She unleashed a low growl of frustration and landed a series of devastating blows on him. Her foot slammed into the man’s left knee, hobbling him, and then she jammed her elbow into his face, right into his eye. Payne winced when the man howled and dropped the petite firecracker and she turned and landed a hard kick to his balls. The man hit the deck, clutching himself and groaning.

The sight of her so easily dispatching their comrade didn’t stop the other three. They attacked as one with magic, hurling colourful sparkling orbs that caught her right in the chest and sent her flying. She tumbled through the air, the skirt of her dress hiking up to reveal sinfully red knickers. Payne had intended to catch her but the sight of them froze him right to his boots. His incubus purred. The vampire in him purred too.

The female landed hard in the baskets outside one of the stores to his left, scattering their contents. Snakes slithered over the cobbles and frogs hopped, making a break for freedom. Payne lifted his left boot to allow a black and red snake to pass. The elderly witch who owned the store added insult to injury and beat the poor female with a broom. The beauty got to her feet by rolling unceremoniously into the cobbled street, her dress still tangled around her middle, flashing her knickers and a lot of smooth creamy leg.

He wasn’t the only one the sight of her had enchanted. The three males were all dumbstruck too, staring at her exposed skin.

She got to her feet, grabbed a length of thin silver rope that had fallen from one of the baskets, and brandished it like a whip.

She lashed out at the males, cracking the end of the rope across their chests and legs. The males reacted then, each making vain attempts to close the distance between them. Even teleportation spells didn’t help them. She struck them before they could fully disappear, stopping them.

Payne stared. The sight of her with the makeshift whip, dominating the more powerful males with it, was arousing to say the least. He knew his eyes were glowing blue and gold, and he knew he should get his hungers under control before they took him over and made him do something he might regret, but by god almighty he wanted the little witch.

One of the males managed to reach her and caught the hand that held the rope. The others looked ready to pile in. It was going to get out of hand.

Payne felt a strange urge to protect her.

He leaped into the fray, barrelling into the man who had captured her and taking him down. He slammed a right hook into his cheek, felt bone give and then crack under the force of the blow. The man bellowed in pain and he struck him again, breaking his jaw. The enticing scent of blood filled the air and Payne growled. His hunger rose.

The female was back in action, hurling vicious magical attacks at the other two males, shrieking at them in the fae tongue. When he had made a vague effort to learn the language, Payne had followed the tradition of all language students and started with the swear words. She cursed better than any of those clichés. Sailors, soldiers and troopers had nothing on this woman.

One of the males grabbed Payne from behind, hauling him off the other witch. He snarled, quickly turned and caught the man with a hard right uppercut and then a left hook as the man dropped him. He kept dealing blows, driving the man away from the female.

A bolt of something blue shot past Payne and sent the male he had been fighting flying through the air. The man smacked into the side of one of the buildings, rolled awkwardly down the emerald green canopy and landed hard on the cobbled street.

The other man fled, helping one of the injured. The fourth man hobbled past Payne and he growled at him, allowing his eyes to blaze red and fangs to lengthen enough that the man got the hint.

The four males looked back past him, to the female. They said something in fae. Payne caught a few words as his fangs receded and his eyes changed back to grey, enough to know they intended to tell on her to their coven. Had she done something wrong?

Payne turned to face her.

She stood in the middle of the narrow street, her silver eyes dark with determination, her breathing as rapid as her heartbeat. Payne took a step towards her and she lashed out at him with the rope. He easily caught the end of it before it could strike him.

Payne stared at her. She struggled with the rope, trying to pull it free of his grip, her pretty face twisting in anger and her eyes bright with it too. Hay stuck out of her long chestnut hair in places, the tousled waves resembling more of a bush than the beautiful glossy locks they had been before her tumble in the baskets and beating with a broom. She looked like a wild animal, feral and vicious.

Payne wanted to tame her.

He held her attention. The sparks of silver in her striking eyes brightened. He took a step towards her, gathering the rope at the same time, keeping it taut between them. She raised her other hand and a golden orb glowed close to her palm. She didn’t want to let him near her. He got the message and ignored it too. He kept moving towards her, steady steps, his eyes constantly locked on hers. He could see she didn’t want to lower that magic or let him close to her, even as he worked to change it. He hated to use his natural talents on anyone but she was going to get herself killed if he didn’t get her off the street soon. Those males would come back with more like them.

She blinked slowly. Payne lost focus as her long dark lashes shuttered her incredible eyes, stealing them from view. The distraction cost him. She smiled and yanked the rope. It slipped from his grasp and she lashed out with it, catching him hard across the cheek. He didn’t flinch, didn’t take his eyes off her. The smell of his blood mixed with the scents in the air.

Payne kept slowly advancing, his eyes on hers, keeping them riveted on him. She wanted to give up her fight. She wanted him. He sent that feeling to her, filling her mind with thoughts of them together, trying to convince her to lower her guard.

She drew her arm back to strike again.

Payne teleported just as she let loose with the rope and appeared right in front of her. He caught her wrists, his eyes still on hers. She stared up at him, her sensual rosy lips parted in shock and her eyes dark with desire that swirled into him through the point where they touched, feeding his hunger. Her breathing quickened to short soft pants. He had never heard anything so erotic and alluring. He wanted to hear her panting like that into his ear as he thrust into her welcoming wet heat.

“I won’t hurt you,” he whispered and her pupils dilated. “Give in to me.”

He felt her relax. Her fingers opened and the rope fell from them.

Her dark eyebrows drew together and her pupils narrowed. She yanked her right hand free of his grip and slammed her fist into his cheek, splitting open the gash there from the whip. Payne grabbed her wrist again and held them both in a bruising grip. It seemed she was a little immune to his charm.

“I won’t hurt you,” he repeated and her struggling slowed until she was wriggling against him in a way that fired him up.

He shoved her away and scowled at her. She blinked into his eyes and then dropped her gaze to his hands where they clutched her wrists. It rose to his cheek and she stilled.

“You’re bleeding.” She spoke in English, her voice soft and light, full of warmth that curled through him, easing his tension.

Was his charm offensive getting through to her now? He focused on her and his incubus side didn’t purr. Evidently not.

She pulled her hand free of his and gently pressed the pads of her fingers to the skin below the cut on his cheek. Payne hissed in a sharp breath, heat flooding him, all stemming from the point where she touched him. He stared down into her silver-grey eyes, hungry thoughts spinning through his mind, his body reacting swiftly.

She broke free of him, a soft gasp escaping her sinful mouth and her cheeks darkening. Had she sensed his thoughts? She smoothed her plain black dress, looking for all the world as if she was doing her best to smooth her feelings with it. Her heartbeat was all over the place and he could sense her desire.

“Come with me.”

She didn’t wait for a response. She turned her back, picked up the rope, and walked away, heading towards the crossroad he had come from. Payne raked his gaze over her, the oversized black dress hiding none of her from his imagination now. He had seen her shapely legs and crimson knickers, and he still burned from that brief glimpse. She plucked a piece of straw from her hair and glanced over her shoulder at him, her beautiful eyes immediately capturing his attention. He was supposed to have cast a spell on her to get her under his control.

He felt as though she had cast one on him.

Payne followed her, unable to resist his need to know her taste and her touch. He could never allow it to happen though.

He couldn’t influence her.

She was immune.

Immunity to an incubus’s charms was a sign that she was their fated mate.

The last woman who had been semi-immune to his charms had broken his heart.

The phantom’s words came back to him.

Fated. Bond. Blood. Death.

Sounded like a recipe for disaster to him, and this little witch was just the first ingredient.

P
ayne used the walk to get his hunger back in check. He would go with the witch to wherever she was leading him, gain her trust and then get her to tell him the location of the place he sought. She could speak fae and others knew her here, so she clearly knew the area well. She would be able to lead him to his destination. Problem solved.

He tried to keep his eyes off her backside.

It was impossible.

The image of saucy red knickers had been burned on his mind.

He would never look at witches the same again. Who knew what they hid beneath that plain boring black dress? He had never imagined it would be naughty knickers.

She turned down another street to her left, leading him through the rabbit warren of buildings. There were fewer stores in this neighbourhood. Most of the single storey buildings looked like residences, most of them painted in bright colours. Stalagmites rose from the flat roofs of many of them, reaching upwards towards their deadly counterparts on high.

Payne stopped a few steps into the new narrow street and backtracked. He raised a single dark eyebrow at the wooden sign affixed to the painted black wall of the building nearest the crossroads. Well, what did’ya know. He took a piece of paper from his pocket and matched the symbols to those of the street name. Bingo. We have a winner.

The witch had stopped and was staring at him, curiosity burning in her silvery eyes.

He didn’t need her after all.

He stalked past her, checking each door for the right symbol. Somewhere down here was the witch he had come to find. His eyes darted from the crumpled piece of paper in his hand to the painted purple wooden door of the pink stone building on his left. Match.

He rapped his knuckles against the door.

The female witch stopped beside him. He glanced at her. She was frowning now and it didn’t suit her. He didn’t like how she looked as though she was trying to see right through him to wheedle out his secrets.

He opened his mouth to explain himself.

She slid a brass key into the lock, twisted it and pushed the door open. She breezed into the dark building and lights came on, glowing warmly and illuminating the clutter in the small room.

She lived here?

She was the witch?

She tossed the key and silver rope onto a messy wooden desk on the right of the room. A fire burst into life in the grate to his left, near two tattered armchairs. A dark threadbare rug spread across the stone floor between them, covered in haphazard piles of books.

Payne closed the door behind him. The witch bustled through into an adjoining room and returned with a hairbrush that she put to good use, viciously dragging it through her tangled hair. She didn’t flinch when it caught on knots and pieces of hay. She grumbled in the fae language, dark things that had Payne remaining close to the exit. She was livid about something. He could feel her anger in her blood and hear it in her heartbeat, and sense it in other easier ways too. The fire on the grate roared like an inferno and the flames on the candles were six inches tall and blazing white, evidently a response to her rage.