Free Violette Dubrinsky by Under a Crescent Moon Page A

they’d spent together. She was nervous, unsure of what the night would bring. She drew the pentagram as Victor placed the five elements into each triangle, then sat in the center with her spell book. He entered as well, holding her knees as she recited a spell to protect them when they were gone. The circle glowed white, and the winds howled as the trees danced. A soft mist, reminiscent of the steam from their hot shower, enshrouded them.
    “It worked. Read the other one.”
    Victor seemed tense, and she understood. He was nervous, too.
    As she recited the other, Azaleigh kept her eyes on him. The spell was short, a few words, and she knew it by heart. Before long, she and Victor found themselves standing in another place.
    “Where are we?” she asked instantly. Her brain wanted badly to name the place, but something about it kept her from remembering.
    “The outskirts of town,” he answered, turning in a full circle. He eyed the dark road ahead of them. “This is the location of one of the protection charms.”
    “Oh.”
    There was a slight rustling, and Victor tensed. His eyes faded to black and a chill came over his body. “They’re coming.”
    Not a second after he spoke, Dorian Winters appeared out of thin air. Azaleigh barely kept her gasp silent.
    The vampire seemed taken aback by Victor, and halted his sure step before cautiously moving forward. A smile split his lips. “You’ve kept your end of the bargain, witch. As Antoinette’s successor, I didn’t expect it.”
    “Stay where you are, Night Walker, or I’ll rip your heart out.”
    Never had Victor spoken to her in the voice he used; if he had, she would have been much more terrified of him. Azaleigh stared between the two of them, and felt her stomach drop. She’d been wrong. They had more similarities than the paltry two she’d remembered. They had similar stances, both stubborn and daring, as if they would rather fight to the death than submit to anyone, and their facial expressions seemed alike. Their brows were identical, too. One dipped and the other arched when they were upset, which was readily apparent now.
    “You’d kill your own father, Victor? Patricide is still a crime in our community,” Dorian murmured with a frown. “You’ve grown...darker. No doubt the rays of the sun are responsible for the tan you’re sporting.”
    Victor didn’t respond. He only stood still, anticipation humming from his body.
    Licking at her dry lips, Azaleigh interceded. “My Protector doesn’t believe you, Dorian. Why don’t you tell us what you really want?”
    “You wound me, witch,” Dorian murmured with a shake of his dark head and an accompanying evil smirk. “I only want the son who was stolen from me years ago by that vengeful witch—”
    He broke off on Victor’s savage growl, but countered with a snarl of his own. “Who bewitched him under a pretense of truce, dragged him to her cursed house, and made him into her zombie .”
    “You’re lying.”
    Dorian’s head snapped back as if coming unglued from his neck. “What do I have to gain by lying, boy? You’ve always been smart, ahead of the rest us in some ways. What is my agenda?”
    “Hallows Brook. You’ve been trying to snack on the people for over a century, and you think creating discord between Azaleigh and me might help you get it.”
    Dorian glared at him, and shook his head. “Snack? Times have changed, Victor. Night Walkers don’t run out for midnight snacks called small towns anymore. We have more than enough willing blood slaves.”
    “Then leave us alone.”
    Visibly upset, Dorian snapped, “Us? You are one of us , Victor! The witch is gone. It’s time to take your take your rightful place—”
    “My rightful place is here.”
    “As a witch’s slave! Her zombie ?” Dorian’s teeth snapped together audibly and he grunted. “I will rip your heart from your chest and leave it to the sun rather than see my own blood brought so low.”
    “You can always