Duella Book 3: The Witch and the Vampire Series

THE WITCH
AND
THE VAMPIRE
:
BOOK
3

DUELLA

BY

FAWN LOWERY

The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

The Witch and the Vampire: Book 3 –
Duella

Copyright
ã
2008 Fawn Lowery

ISBN: 978-1-55487-045-5

Cover art by Martine Jardin

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

Published by eXtasy Books

Look for us online at:

www.extasybooks.com

To
Tina.
Thank you for your friendship and encouragement.

Chapter One

Duella
Sutherland stood near the rear of the brick building and peered upward at the nighttime sky. Clouds obscured the moon—the threat of rain was in the humid summertime air. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned one shoulder against the solid wall at his back. He had stood in the shadows for almost an hour, contemplating where he should go. Since his three brothers had been transported ahead in time as he was, and were all vampires and in need of fresh blood to survive, he knew it would put them all in danger, should they remain in the city and feed in virtually the same place night after night.

He sighed wearily. He had been happy once—in the year 1185, he had been a successful landowner, a man of considerable wealth and persuasion. He had fallen in love with a beautiful woman—only to find she was a devious witch who cast an evil spell over him when she found his older brother didn’t return her love. His brows drew together. It still puzzled him—how he could have unknowingly allowed the witch to seduce him while holding love for his brother in her heart. In the end, she had cast him into oblivion, darkness worse than the curse of vampirism, until a witch from the present arrived to end it all.

He gazed beyond the dark shadows to watch passersby on the narrow street. The people passed as though there was no danger lurking nearby, no hungry predator ready to leap from the shadows and take their blood. He smiled slightly and shook his head. Perhaps the people of this time would be as unsuspecting as those in the time he left behind. Perhaps he could live among them and they would never know the curse he endured.

He pushed away from the wall and strode into the light cast by the tall streetlight at the end of the block. He needed to feed, to revive his flagging body. He would think more clearly, once he sated his blood thirst. He gazed up and down the street, turning his eyes slowly across the avenue and beyond the lit sidewalk.

There are many mortals to choose from.
He licked his dry lips. His throat felt parched. He walked in the direction of a single figure, a woman who had just left the safety of a nearby building. He would catch up to her and place her under his power, then feed until he felt the rejuvenation of his body. He quickened his steps, arriving within seconds beside his prey.

The woman glanced over her shoulder, glimpsed him beside her and screamed.

Duella
reacted on impulse. He grabbed her by the nape of the neck and lifted her feet off the ground. In seconds, he leapt into the air, the woman hoisted against his chest, in search of concealing darkness.

The woman fought at his grasp, kicked her feet and screamed an ear-piercing shriek that echoed through the stillness.

Duella
hissed his dissatisfaction. His eyes glowed red. His anger rose, fueling his blood lust. He gave his victim a shake, stilling her objection as he chose the first dark alley he spied. He pressed her against the side of the building and sank his fangs into her jugular vein. Her hot blood gushed into his mouth. He closed his eyes briefly, as the nourishment flooded his body with renewing force.

The woman cursed under her breath and tried to struggle free.

He held her fast, pressing her body painfully tight against the wall of the building. He drank until he was sated. Her body sagged in his strong hold. He pulled away and looked down at her in the dim light. Her taste was in his mouth—he swiped the back of his hand across his lips, wiping the smears of blood off his mouth. Her head lolled forward, her long hair hanging across her face. Curiosity grew inside him. He relinquished his tight hold on her shoulders and allowed her body to slip lower along the building, coming to rest at his feet in the alley. He stepped back, preparing to leave.

“You’ll be sorry…you son-of-a-bitch!”

He chuckled at her words. She was hardly in any condition to threaten him. He had just drunk a large portion of her life’s blood from her body. She lay in a huddle mass on the dirt at his feet, too weak to stand.

She moaned and tried to raise her head.

Intrigued by the woman’s display of courage, he propped his hands on his hips and stared down at her. She fought to right her body, to raise her head. He watched her as she struggled to sit, her head lolling around on her shoulders.

She straightened out her legs with effort, moaning as she managed to press her back against the building and push her body into a semi-erect position. She raised one hand and, with great difficulty, pushed her hair off her face. She stared up at him, her jaw lax and her eyes half-closed with fatigue.

Duella’s
gaze latched onto her bare legs stretched out before her body. She had lost her shoes in the ordeal he had subjected her to. Her feet were bare. His eyes honed in on the tips of her toes. Her toenails were red. A silver ring spanned a toe on her right foot. He felt amusement gather inside his body.
Rings are to be worn on fingers—not toes
.
He chuckled softly.

“How dare you…
laugh.
I’ll kick your…ass… just as soon…as I can get up!”

He threw back his head and bellowed with laughter. “You’re hardly in any position to threaten me.”

“What did you do…to me? Who in hell are… you?”

Duella
reached down and lifted the woman from the pavement. He hoisted her into his arms and strode from the darkness. He’d return her to the building where he had seen her emerge before he continued his exploration of the city to decide which direction to take to find another dwelling place away from his brothers.

Her body was limp—she lay across his arms as though she had no strength left. He drew in a deep breath, contemplating her physical state. He hadn’t taken as much blood from her as she was letting on. He had deliberately pulled his fangs out so as not to do her adverse harm. She shouldn’t be carrying on as she was. He grew suspicious.

Perhaps she is faking her distress. Perhaps she is leading me into a trap.
Memories from centuries past flashed in his mind.
Drucella
had tricked him—and he hadn’t been the wiser until she leveled her evil spell upon him. He paused at the wide steps leading up to the building where the woman had emerged. Perhaps he should leave her at the doorway. Yes. Just to be on the safe side.

He stooped and placed her lax body on the bottom step, positioning her upper body against the metal railing leading up to the door of the building. Her head fell forward and he reached her just before she landed on the step face first. He clutched her by the shoulders and levered her upright once more, pressing her back against the steps. Her head rolled against the unyielding stone and she moaned, her eyes closed, her lips parted. He saw her pallor, the faint tinge of death on her lips. A shard of dread raced through his insides.

I took too much blood! Dammit!
He felt guilty, as though the woman’s life was his to restore. He ran one hand through his hair, pushing it off his shoulder. Unconsciously, he grasped the amulet hanging around his neck. He had taken the gem from one of
Drucella’s
coven, a witch that had restored his body with her blood before he cast her dead body into the raging fire in the hearth of the castle. He closed his fist around the talisman. It had mystical powers—though he was uncertain of all it was capable of. He stared down at the woman slumped against the railing on the steps.

His mind was blank, his eyes staring at the body of his victim. He hadn’t planned on harming her as he had—merely taking enough of her blood to revive his flagging body. He cursed beneath his breath. His fist tightened around the amber jewel suspended from his neck. Did he dare call upon its powers to come to his aide?

He opened his hand and stared at the gem as it lay against his palm. The surface of the amulet was faceted and the faint gleam of the streetlight shining down the block glimmered across its smooth surface. He stared at it, willing it to respond to his command.
Reveal your powers to me. I command it.

“Where am I?”

The woman moved at his feet, grasping the metal railing with one hand and trying to pull her body upright. Her long hair fell across her face as her head drooped, her chin leaning against her breast. “Where am I?”

Duella
gnashed his teeth and turned his gaze across the street as the area was bombarded with traffic in either direction. Voices melded with the roar of engines and lights flashed as congestion crowded the wide avenue. He darted his gaze back to the woman as a plan rapidly formed in his mind. There were others about now, he could leave her on the steps and feel assured that someone would come to her rescue. Someone would be kind enough to see that she made it inside the building and into her own bed. He could flee the area and not feel guilty about leaving her on the stoop.

Or drinking too much of her blood.
He combed one hand through his hair.
No. He couldn’t forgive himself for drinking too much of her blood.

He hissed his discord, opening his mouth and baring his fangs as his eyes began to glow red. His rage grew within his body at his own carelessness—and his continued show of compassion. He released the amulet, dashing the thought that perhaps the woman was luring him into a trap of his own undoing, and lifted her into his arms. He leapt up the column of steps and pressed the door open with one shoulder. Her head lolled against his chest.

He paused, realizing he was inside an expansive home—not an apartment building as he had initially surmised. He held the woman against his chest and turned around, his gaze taking in the lavishly furnished foyer and a wide living room opening up to his left. He spied a long couch in the room and hurried to cross the plush carpet to place the woman on it. He lowered her gently, containing his anger at having to tend her when it was imperative that he be on his way. The night was growing old and he needed shelter before the morning sun rose.

She moaned and stretched out on the couch. He gazed down at her. Glancing around, he saw the bits of decorations dotting the large room. Lace topped pillows lay plump and inviting on the couch at her feet and beneath her head. A velvet throw was draped across the arm of an overstuffed chair. Glass candlesticks with squat red candles stood on the mantle over a wide fireplace. Tasteful paintings adorned the walls of the room. He gazed about and felt a shard of remorse for the loss of his own home.

“I need a drink.”

Her words brought his gaze back to the sofa.

“Brandy. Bring me brandy.”

Duella
glanced round, spying a decanter of amber liquid on a nearby table.

“Dammit! I need a drink!” She levered her body up on the couch and struggled to open her eyes. She raised one hand to her head and massaged her temple. Her face was wane in the faint light spilling in through the window facing the street.

Duella
went to get the drink she requested. He splashed a small amount of the liquor into a crystal glass he found beside the decanter, and returned to the sofa. He held the glass to her mouth and watched as she gulped the liquor. A niggling little thought sprang to his mind.
I should leave before she fully regains her faculties.

She opened her eyes wide as she gazed up at
Duella
. Her hand clasped atop his while she swallowed the liquor.

Her staring was making him nervous. He didn’t want her to remember what he looked like. He wanted to remain anonymous to her when she recovered. He turned his head, hoping to end her staring. Her fingers were warm against the coldness of his hand and her scent was wafting up to his nose. He had almost forgotten how the fragrance of a woman could tempt his senses. He turned his gaze on her again, relieved to see that some color was returning to her cheeks. Her eyes were green, like a fresh meadow in the springtime. She lowered the glass and he studied her mouth. Her lips were rosy, the lower being slightly fuller than the top. She lowered her lashes, concealing her eyes as though playing the coy female attempting to entice him.

He released a shuddering breath. His cock was beginning to grow hard. His mind was turning to sexual thoughts—sexual musings that he hadn’t been privy to in a long time. He reached one hand to her hair—it was long and dark and lay on her shoulder in disarray. He swept the heavy mass back, exposing the long column of her neck. The two fang marks where he had bitten her were clearly visible, marring the splendor of her silken flesh. He touched the gaping wound, sealing it with his touch.

Her blouse was open at the throat—her breasts heaved and rose from his keen inspection. She bit her bottom lip, gazing up at him as he assessed her face and lowered his gaze to her breasts. Her nipples peaked temptingly against the thin fabric of her shirt.

Duella
groaned and slid his hand across her shoulder and onto the rounded fullness of her right breast. His fingers found their way inside the open front of her blouse, skimming lightly across the warm swell and dipping lower until he found her nipple.

She sucked in a quick breath and pressed back against the cushion of the couch, trying to retract her breast from his hand.

His eyes found hers and their gazes locked. He opened his hand and took her breast in his palm, opening the remaining buttons on her blouse with his other hand as he stooped before the couch. A tremor of longing wafted through his insides. Her flesh felt marvelous against his palm. Eager to know more of her, he pushed her blouse aside and tugged it off her arms.