Read Online Follow The Night (Bewitch The Dark) by Michele Hauf - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Michele Hauf
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swallowed.
Gabriel strode to the armoire and tapped the smooth white wig sporting three sausage rolls above each ear. “This one.”
“It is dangerous!”
“Come, Toussaint, if you are concerned my guardian angel will admonish me, she’ll not say a thing, because I won’t tell her.”
“This has nothing to do with Mademoiselle Desrues.”
“You don’t think I can protect myself?” He spun the stake expertly.
“You are quite skilled—it is just…you’ve no training for this sort of opposition. I—I can’t allow it.”
“You forget your place, Toussaint.” Gabriel tossed the valet the wig. “Quickly. The night is young. If I’m to go vampire hunting I want to meet him at his weakest.”
“Don’t say things like that. Besides, how can you know when the beast is at his weakest?”
A spectacular crash brought both to alert. Pulse beats pounding in his ears, Gabriel watched as a shower of glass shattered across the Aubusson rug before the window. In the wake of the deadly shower something crept through his window.
The servant clutched Gabriel’s shoulder. “What is that?”
Toussaint’s yelp did not dissuade him from gripping the stake and approaching the man who crouched on the floor like a predator. When the intruder turned and sprang, Gabriel dashed the air with the stake in warning.
Tattered fabric covered the man’s bent body; he looked to have jumped from the rag-seller’s bin. But to have jumped up two stories? Dirty black hair tangled before his eyes, but did not conceal a mouthful of yellowed teeth. Two teeth in particular were long and sharp.
“A minion!” Toussaint shouted. “We must run. Roxane!”
Irritated that his valet should run screaming for the aid of a woman, Gabriel straightened and slapped the stake in his palm. This swish was not going to cringe from any beast. Even if the thing did stink of the unholy.
Charging the intruder, he rammed his head into the stranger’s gut. They crashed against the wall and landed on the litter of glass shards.
“Who sent you?” He rolled to kick, but the intruder bared his fangs and lunged for his neck. Hot spittle dripped over his chin. Fangs flashed. Gabriel succeeded in delivering a kick to the vampire’s gut, sending him flying to land in a heap against the wall.
With the beast momentarily dissuaded, he raised the stake over his head.
“Stay there!” Roxane’s voice.
What? He had the situation under control!
“Don’t get too close,” he shouted. “He is a vampire.”
Roxane tramped across the broken glass toward the staggering vampire. He saw the red vial she ripped from the chain about her neck. As the vampire charged her, she uncorked the vial and with a flick of her wrist doused the bastard with a spray of red droplets.
Agony filled the room with screams to wake the dead. Clawing at his face, the minion fought against the unstoppable. His flesh literally sizzled. What had once been a solid, flesh and blood man, liquefied and dispersed into glittering droplets of scarlet.
SEVEN
Havoc scattered about the room with glass shards and a bloody mass upon the floor—a mass of blood that had once been a man. Vampire .
“That really is blood in your vial?”
Roxane nodded.
“Witches and vampires…” Gabriel gestured futilely with a hand.
“Enemies,” she finished. “Vampires cannot tolerate witch’s blood, as you have seen.”
“Tolerate?” He tilted his head, trying to grasp that statement, but sight of the mayhem on the floor utterly horrified him. Remembering the stake, he slid it under a pillow, hoping Roxane hadn’t seen the weapon he should have used before she had entered the room.
Toussaint carefully approached the bloodstain. “That’s going to leave a mark.”
A mark? Instinctively Gabriel clasped a hand over the scabbed wounds on his neck. He stared at the blood, seeping quickly into the thick Aubusson rug. Reality had crashed through his bedroom window. And he’d stood up to it, but
Gabriel strode to the armoire and tapped the smooth white wig sporting three sausage rolls above each ear. “This one.”
“It is dangerous!”
“Come, Toussaint, if you are concerned my guardian angel will admonish me, she’ll not say a thing, because I won’t tell her.”
“This has nothing to do with Mademoiselle Desrues.”
“You don’t think I can protect myself?” He spun the stake expertly.
“You are quite skilled—it is just…you’ve no training for this sort of opposition. I—I can’t allow it.”
“You forget your place, Toussaint.” Gabriel tossed the valet the wig. “Quickly. The night is young. If I’m to go vampire hunting I want to meet him at his weakest.”
“Don’t say things like that. Besides, how can you know when the beast is at his weakest?”
A spectacular crash brought both to alert. Pulse beats pounding in his ears, Gabriel watched as a shower of glass shattered across the Aubusson rug before the window. In the wake of the deadly shower something crept through his window.
The servant clutched Gabriel’s shoulder. “What is that?”
Toussaint’s yelp did not dissuade him from gripping the stake and approaching the man who crouched on the floor like a predator. When the intruder turned and sprang, Gabriel dashed the air with the stake in warning.
Tattered fabric covered the man’s bent body; he looked to have jumped from the rag-seller’s bin. But to have jumped up two stories? Dirty black hair tangled before his eyes, but did not conceal a mouthful of yellowed teeth. Two teeth in particular were long and sharp.
“A minion!” Toussaint shouted. “We must run. Roxane!”
Irritated that his valet should run screaming for the aid of a woman, Gabriel straightened and slapped the stake in his palm. This swish was not going to cringe from any beast. Even if the thing did stink of the unholy.
Charging the intruder, he rammed his head into the stranger’s gut. They crashed against the wall and landed on the litter of glass shards.
“Who sent you?” He rolled to kick, but the intruder bared his fangs and lunged for his neck. Hot spittle dripped over his chin. Fangs flashed. Gabriel succeeded in delivering a kick to the vampire’s gut, sending him flying to land in a heap against the wall.
With the beast momentarily dissuaded, he raised the stake over his head.
“Stay there!” Roxane’s voice.
What? He had the situation under control!
“Don’t get too close,” he shouted. “He is a vampire.”
Roxane tramped across the broken glass toward the staggering vampire. He saw the red vial she ripped from the chain about her neck. As the vampire charged her, she uncorked the vial and with a flick of her wrist doused the bastard with a spray of red droplets.
Agony filled the room with screams to wake the dead. Clawing at his face, the minion fought against the unstoppable. His flesh literally sizzled. What had once been a solid, flesh and blood man, liquefied and dispersed into glittering droplets of scarlet.
SEVEN
Havoc scattered about the room with glass shards and a bloody mass upon the floor—a mass of blood that had once been a man. Vampire .
“That really is blood in your vial?”
Roxane nodded.
“Witches and vampires…” Gabriel gestured futilely with a hand.
“Enemies,” she finished. “Vampires cannot tolerate witch’s blood, as you have seen.”
“Tolerate?” He tilted his head, trying to grasp that statement, but sight of the mayhem on the floor utterly horrified him. Remembering the stake, he slid it under a pillow, hoping Roxane hadn’t seen the weapon he should have used before she had entered the room.
Toussaint carefully approached the bloodstain. “That’s going to leave a mark.”
A mark? Instinctively Gabriel clasped a hand over the scabbed wounds on his neck. He stared at the blood, seeping quickly into the thick Aubusson rug. Reality had crashed through his bedroom window. And he’d stood up to it, but
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