Free MIDNIGHT HUNT: Book 3 of the Bonded By Blood Vampire Chronicles by Arial Burnz Page A

approached.
    She turned toward him, her brows upturned inquisitively. Well, hallo handsome!
    He pursed his lips in amusement at her unspoken compliment.
    “Aye, those boys are a right handful indeed.” Crossing her arms, she assessed his tall frame. “You’re a stranger here. Something I can help you with?”
    Close-knit community. He liked that. “Actually, yes. I’m looking for the healer or someone who is well-versed with herbs in the area.”
    The woman stepped back, uncrossing her arms. “Not feeling well?”
    “Nay, madam. I just need a certain herb I’m having trouble finding.” He kept his distance to respect her caution.
    “Then you’ll want that house there.” She pointed to the corner cottage at the edge of the platz behind him. “Best healers around.”
    It was the same home the old woman had shuffled about last night—the one who reminded him of Amice.
    “Thank you kindly for your time and direction. Good evening.” He tipped his hat respectfully and strolled toward the humble dwelling. After rapping on the door, he removed his hat and waited patiently, steeling himself for the grief that might surface over being reminded of his long-dead Gypsy friend. The door swung open and his jaw unhinged.
    Standing at the threshold was Monika, the chestnut-haired woman with Davina’s sapphire eyes…and she was more breathtaking in person than his dreams had ever revealed. Mounds of chestnut hair spilled from the blue-and-yellow striped kerchief framing her heart-shaped face and flowed around her shoulders. A widow’s peak at her hairline completed her angelic face—not Davina…yet her eyes. Sparkling jewels like his Blossom’s.
    Her full lips parted with surprise. Dear Gods, let this be the one you’ve sent me! Desire swirled around this enchanting woman and enveloped Broderick in her spell.
    “Good evening, sir,” she said in a husky whisper, then cleared her throat. “Is there some way I may have you?” She gasped and covered her mouth. “Help you! Is there some way I may help you?” Shaking her head, she buried her face in her hands. Dolt! “Please forgive me. What a forward thing to say. I just—”
    Broderick held up his hand. “No apologies necessary. The color in your cheeks is most becoming.”
    She gasped again. His accent! Oh, Lord and Lady, could it possibly be?
    He cocked an eyebrow.
    She recovered from her embarrassment and shock, pursing her lips and crossing her arms. However, the corner of her mouth turned up in amusement. “Oh, you’re a saucy one.”
    Broderick chuckled, the deep timber of his voice filling the small space between them, and leaned against the door frame, closing the distance. A familiar pull on his vigor made his eyelids droop and his knees buckle.
    “Oh, my!” She was beside him, her arm about his waist, inserting her tiny frame under his teetering form.
    He caught himself, but tripped over his own feet, backing away from the cottage. If not for her assistance, he would have fallen on his rump.
    She grunted as she bared his weight. “Come, let me get you inside,” she groaned, and guided him toward the door.
    Broderick stopped short, the oppressive boundary surrounding the dwelling all-too familiar. “Nay, I…” He retreated a few more steps into the platz and found his footing. Standing upright, he regained his composure and regarded her and her home. They have the incantation on their house! Are she and her household members of the Army of Light? He narrowed his eyes. What are you up to, Malloren Rune?
    “You are not well, sir. I am the village healer.” She righted the kerchief on her head and grasped his forearm, tugging and urging him inside. “Allow me to help you—”
    “I am well, I assure you.” He stood his ground and crossed his arms.
    “Very well. Your male pride will be your undoing.” She picked up his hat from the ground and tossed it to him. He easily caught it, and she placed her hands upon her curvy hips. Her mouth twisted