Page 3 of The Witching Hour

She had a low, husky voice, very pleasant to the ear, and I could understand how a man would be aroused by it. However, it was just an observation because I had no physical reaction to her. Daywalkers were born with a fated mate, their perfect match, and our bodies would only physically react to that person. Unfortunately, there was no guarantee that any of us would ever find our consort. It was a fucking miracle that my brothers and some of my cousins had stumbled across their fated mates. And I meant that almost literally since touch was the only way to recognize your mate.

The women were always born after the men, but it was easy to lose hope when you’d lived for over half a millennium. Your fated mate could have come and gone—not all of them were vampires—and you’d never know it.

“Yay!” Maxine did a little excited dance while she waited for her brother to grab his candy. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” When she pulled the bowl close to her body again, a few pieces fell out. “Oops, sorry. I’m not usually quite so clumsy.”

“No worries.” I stepped forward and bent low to retrieve the candy she’d dropped. Instead of dropping them back into the bowl, I handed them directly to her. Our fingers brushed, and I hissed in surprise when my skin sizzled as heat shot through my body. She snatched her hand back, and I felt the loss of her touch in every nerve. My cock sprang to life. The faint smell of brimstone filled the air, and power swirled around me and my consort, who appeared to be a witch…fuck.

This would be complicated.

I was fucking ecstatic to have found my fated mate, but witches and vampires didn’t often run in the same circles—to put it mildly. Witches looked down their noses at our kind. It wasn’t always the case, but it was certainly a common enough occurrence for us to expect their disdain upon meeting.

So I was relieved when she raised her eyes to mine, and there was only surprise. And desire.

She was utterly gorgeous. Big brown eyes stood out against her pale, porcelain skin, rimmed with thick dark lashes. A pretty blush bloomed on her cheeks, accentuating her plump red lips. Her height was average, but I was tall, so her head had dropped back when she looked up at me, dislodging her hood. Shiny inky-black hair fell in waves down her back.

My eyes immediately dropped to her neck, looking for the mark that would declare her as mine. My lips turned down, andmy brow furrowed when I saw nothing but smooth, flawless skin.

“What the fuck?” I muttered.

My family often teased me about being uptight, though I preferred to call it being studious and a gentleman. However, I could already tell that my consort would bring out my personality's rough, possessive side. One I hadn’t been aware that I possessed.

“Ummm…I think we’ll move on to the next house so you two can…ummm…”

Callidora broke the spell I’d been under, reminding me that we were not alone. In fact, another group of kids was skipping up the steps and shouting, “Trick or treat!”

Good question…

I looked my consort in the eyes and murmured, “We need to talk. Alone.”

She blinked a few times, looking unsure, but then she nodded. “Help yourself, children,” she said sweetly, setting the bowl of treats on the table with the bubbling cauldron. Then she turned and pushed open a black door with an oval window. “Come in.”

I followed her inside and quietly shut the door behind me. We’d entered a small foyer with a coat tree, a little table holding a black glass bowl, and a large ornate mirror hanging above it. The walls were painted a soft lavender, and the floor was marbled cream-and-gold tile.

It was much lighter than I expected for a witch's home.

She led me through a large arched doorway into a living room with a deep purple couch and two matching chairs set across from each other in front of a fireplace. The walls were the same color as the foyer, but a thick, cream-colored carpet was beneath my feet, and the decor was a mix of black and purple.

This was seriously different from any witch’s lair I’d ever been in. It was welcoming and cozy.

She waved her hand, and flames appeared in the fireplace, then she removed the voluminous cape and tossed it over the back of the couch.

My breath caught in my throat, and my mouth turned dry. Form-fitting leggings and a long-sleeved T-shirt did nothing to hide her fantastic figure. She wasn’t overly curvy, but she had just enough to make her slim frame sexy as fuck.

Damn, she was gorgeous—from the top of her lustrous hair to her purple-tipped toes.

“Have a seat,” she invited, sweeping a hand toward one of the overstuffed chairs before taking a seat on the sofa.

Ignoring her gesture, I sat on the other end of the couch. “What is your name?” I asked.

“Celeste,” she replied with a cock of her head. “Yours?”

“Ren.”

“Nice to meet you.” Her formal tone made my lips curl down. “What is this about?”

“Destiny.” The answer slipped out, and she raised one elegant eyebrow. “How much do you know about vampires and their consorts?”