Page 96 of The Witch in the Dead of Night

Shock rattled through me. Perhaps it shouldn’t have. Mordric had torn Ewan’s throat out not two inches from my own face. And I knew that there was violence in Enhart’s past; I’d seen it in his mind. But that didn’t mean I wanted him to bloody his hands for me.

“You killed him,” I said, incredulous.

He rolled his eyes. “That’s not how you kill a vampire.”

Luc’s fingers twitched. I staggered backward, tasting bile as breath rattled through his lips. His chest rose and fell in an uneven, laborious rhythm.

My eyes widened as the vampire lifted himself to a seat. The bulge in his throat smoothed, the delicate bones of his neck snapping back into place. In just a few moments, it was as if nothing had happened. As he opened his eyes, Enhart stooped, grasping him by the front of his shirt.

“Do you have any idea who I am?” the prince snarled, inches from Luc’s nose.

Luc’s face pulled into a scowl before his lips peeled back, revealing his fangs. “Get your hands off of me.”

“I am the Crown Prince of Valen,” Enhart continued, undeterred. “And my companion, the one you couldn’t keep your filthy eyes off of? She is adviser to King Mordric himself.”

Surprise rolled off of the vampire. His eyes widened with recognition. “I—I apologize, Your Royal Highness,” he whimpered. “Please forgive me.”

“Not likely,” Enhart growled. “But you will forget you ever saw us, do you understand?”

The vampire’s gaze flicked to me. “But her blood—”

His words were cut short as Enhart drove a dagger into his chin. I shrieked. The vampire’s head snapped upward with the impact. When Enhart wrenched the blade free, he did so with so much force that the body was thrust onto the ground facedown. A shock of scarlet spilled across the straw. The horses squealed behind me, stomping clouds of dust into the air.

I stared at Enhart wordlessly. So much violence. Because of me.

“Now,” he said, prowling toward Grim. “Let’s get on, shall we?”

We rode in silence for the rest of the day. I wasn’t certain how to bring it up. Or what to say. Thank you for murdering the vampire who was harassing me? Thank you for murdering him twice? Or, godsdamn you for intervening, I could’ve handled it myself? I faltered.

I wasn’t actually certain I could have. My power simmered beneath my skin, hungry for a chance to be used. I’d spent weeks training in combat magic, but it was one thing to spar with castle guards who knew, deep down, that they shouldn’t hurt me. Who, despite Enhart’s encouragement, were too afraid to invoke their king’s ire. My fingers trailed down my throat as I pictured the bloodthirsty look in Luc’s eyes. If it weren’t for Enhart, it could have ended the same way it did with Mordric.

Mordric. I groaned silently. He would lose his mind if he found out what had happened. After everything he’d said following our discovery of the skeletons and the pentagram in the blacksmith’s cellar, I’d be lucky if he ever let me out of his sight again. Perhaps he didn’t need to know.

I was turning toward Enhart, preparing to swear him to secrecy, when he pulled Grim off the road and toward the trees. I frowned, gripping the reins tighter as Arlys hurried after them without my prodding. After a few minutes, we arrived in a glade carpeted in stubby grasses. Enhart slowed his horse to a stop and slid out of the saddle, his boots barely making a sound as they touched the earth.

“We’ll camp here for the night,” he announced.

“Camp?” I asked, my stomach twisting with nerves. If there were bloodthirsty vampires in Valen’s inns, who knew what could be waiting for us in the woods? “What about the guesthouse?” I pressed.

“We won’t reach the next one for several days. I hope you don’t mind, my lady.” He feigned a bow.

I considered his words for a moment, but it appeared I didn’t have a choice. With a sigh, I swung reluctantly out of the saddle. I cursed as I hit the ground, my legs nearly buckling. Ignoring the bemused expression on Enhart’s face, I busied myself by unraveling my pack from Arlys’s saddle.

“There’s a river nearby,” he said. “Water should be fit for drinking. And you’ll need to set up a perimeter.”

I glanced around. “Like a fence?”

He rolled his eyes. “No, like a ward.”

I glanced around the clearing. “How?”

“You’ve done elemental wards before,” he said. “This one will just stay standing. Visualize a perimeter around us and the horses. That’s important, otherwise we won’t be able to pass through it freely. Channel your power into it until it’s strong enough that it won’t break if you lose focus or fall asleep.”

I nodded, drawing in a long breath. My skin warmed as I heeded the prince’s instructions, imagining that I was pulling a sheet over our heads in an arc. Magic sparked to life at our feet. I raised my palms, urging it to climb higher. The ward wove itself together in a lattice until it surrounded us and then faded, invisible to my eyes.

“How do I know if it’s strong enough?” I asked.

Enhart sighed, loosing a knife from his belt. He strode outside the perimeter and hurled it at the barrier. The ward rippled as the dagger made impact, sparking a prickling sensation beneath my skin. My jaw dropped as the knife bounced and landed back in his open palm. “Looks strong enough to me,” he said, returning to my side.