Haunter (verb) to haunt

I knew who had hold of my wrist without looking, but the vampire's presence was anything but soothing.

He hadn't spoken to me in days. Why now?

"The inn is this way," Bastien said with cheeky amusement.

I tried to pull my hand away, but it was caught in his iron grip.

All the humor in his expression fled when his blue eyes met mine. "You're cold. Here."

Still holding on to my hand, he reached inside his pack, extracted a long, black cloak lined with ermine fur, and tossed it around my shoulders. Pulling me closer to him so he could fasten the button at my throat.

The fur was like silk against my skin, so soft and cuddly, but its warmth did little to calm my fear.

This cloak kept out the cold, not curses.

"Come," he said. "It's warm inside."

My eyes widened in terror.

"Dark witches run this place," I said in a bare whisper, lest they hear me. "We can't stay."

He considered me for a moment, canting his head to one side. "Yes, that's true. But Shreesa means us no harm. Her family has run this inn for generations. They practice their craft quietly and within the bounds of the law."

"That's what they want you to believe," I said through my teeth.

Anger rose in my blood. This was the problem with vampires. They always sided with darkness. If he genuinely cared what they did, he'd be acting differently, which was why I had to know what he knew about the demonic relics. My coven would fix this.

He narrowed his eyes. "You're afraid."

If I wasn't so angry, I might've laughed. He would be afraid, too, if his family graveyard was filled with the bones of those killed by dark magick.

While I couldn't offer that explanation, I could play up my false identity as an orphan.

"Yes, of course, I'm afraid. I was raised at Nightfall. And the convent has no love for dark witches and demons. I'd been told stories all my life of how they eat children."

Bastien cracked a smile. The quirk of his lips softened the rest of his face. "You truly believe those stories? The nuns told to you those things to scare you into behaving."

I straightened. Angry he was making light of this.

"Sister Vera said she'd seen one eat a child whole."

Well, my aunt wasn't a sister of the faith, but she swore she saw a dark witch's jaw unhinge like a snake. Her mouth full of pointed teeth.

Bastien chuckled at that. "Well, as noble as Sister Vera is, I can assure you Witches of the Darkness don't eat children." He put his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close against his side, and wheeled me around to face the inn. "But they do make stew. I think a hot meal will do you good." He paused, then added, "I need you to keep your strength up, which means eating plenty of meat."

I glared up at the vampire. He wore the same half grin he'd sported when he invited me to that balcony. Charming and debonair. Knee-weakeningly handsome.

But his good looks wouldn't work on me again. I knew his dark side. The one that was temperamental and mean. "I'm not going in."

"Claire," he said, bending his head closer to mine. His voice a low purr, "Do you think anyone is as frightening as me?"

I lifted my chin. Trying to be brave. "You're not frightening."

On one hand, it was a bald-faced lie. A part of me was very afraid of his fangs, his strength, and his coldness. But on the other, I knew he wasn't allowed to hurt me. I had certain protections now. And there was something reassuring in his eyes that let me know I was safe.

He cupped my chin, holding me in place when I tried to look away. "I swear on my life, no one will eat you."

I raised a skeptical eyebrow, and he let out a chuckle.

I contemplated the vampire staring into my eyes and the vow he'd made to keep me safe.

All my life, I'd been told I was a liability.

Without magick, I couldn't hope to survive off our property, especially not around Witches of Darkness. I'd been told it was too dangerous to take me on hunts because that meant one of my family members would be tasked with defending me, and it would make them weaker.

Even when I offered to learn other skills, like explosives or archery, I was laughed at.

But now, as much as he didn't want to admit it, Bastien needed me. I wasn't going to hold his face and insist that he drink from me, but I could tell just as Okeri could that he was weakened. His eyes were shadowed and cheeks more sunken after days without eating.

He had to make himself weaker to protect me, because I was his food. He was also nicer to me whenever he thought I was afraid because my fear made it impossible for him to...eat.

I swallowed hard. Studying his deeply set ice blue eyes and wondering how I could use this to my advantage.

Think, Claire. Think.

Mama would tell me to stop being so emotional and to think logically. Well, if I set aside the fact that I was terrified of these witches, this was my chance to move through enemy territory under the crown's protection.

Unlike my family, I could spy on the dark witches, and there was nothing they could do about it, even if they caught me. It was a crime punishable by death to attack a vampire's sanguine partner, and Bastien had just pledged to keep me safe.

I would be foolish to pass up this opportunity to learn more. If the witches were practicing dark magick, they must have a relic hidden on the property.

I pressed my lips together and nodded. "Okay. Fine. I'll stay."

Bastien's thumb stroked across my cheek. His gaze thoughtful. "There's some measure of bravery in you." He released his hold on my chin, frowning. "Or maybe it's stubbornness."

An awkward beat passed between us. Neither of us moved. A gentle breeze blew the fine hairs around my face.

"Maybe it's both," I replied.

"Indeed."

The word slid out from behind his teeth.

With a stony expression, he offered me his arm, and with hesitance, I took it. Walking with halting steps toward the entrance of the inn.

My heart was a drum in my chest, beating out a too fast rhythm when we entered the inn. But I forced myself to pay attention to every little detail. Inside, it was warm, and smoke from the woodfire burned my eyes. Magicked lanterns hung above each of the wood trestle tables, overflowing with food, drink, and Bastien's staff.

I counted three red-haired women moving through the dining room, serving drinks and stew. Surely there were more lurking.

I caught one of the witches staring at me, and a bolt of fear lanced through my heart.

"Do you want to freshen up before dinner?" Bastien asked, leaning in close to be heard over the sound of a lute and the low hum of conversation. "I had your trunk brought inside."

I hesitated. While hiding upstairs to collect my nerves sounded appealing, I needed to take control of my fear. No one was going to hurt me. They wouldn't dare. And as disgusting as I was after four days on the road, so was Bastien. And so was his guard.

Hell, even Okeri and Tyson were seated beside the fire. Her, eating, and him, sipping wine.

If I was going to earn an ounce of credibility, I had to show strength.

"No. I'm fine. I-I should eat."

Natalia, the vampire who had caught Sera, waved us down, and he led us toward the back of the establishment, close to the fire and a grimy window that overlooked the moonlit lake.

She was enjoying a glass of wine with one of her booted feet propped up on the bench. She was the kind of beautiful that was sharp and intimidating. With her high ponytail and even higher cheekbones.

Her haughty expression did nothing to set my mind at ease.

I sat across from her, avoiding her eye, and Bastien took his place beside me on the bench. I wanted to ask how Sera got off after the ball but was immediately distracted by the presence of two dark witches.

My pulse, already pounding in my ears, quickened like I was running uphill.

A young witch with copper hair set a glass of wine down in front of the vampire prince and placed a mug of what appeared to be mead before me. I had no love for the sickly sweet flavor and turned my nose up at it. Another witch set down a trencher of bread covered in steaming hot stew, which was arguably harder to ignore.

The witch bent low to hand me a fork and said, "I hope you enjoy, miss," a little too close, and I recoiled. My back pressing into Bastien's shoulder.

Fear of these witches was as real as the chunks of meat in the stew, and my insides crawled with disgust despite how hungry I was.

The witch joined the other around the table, and I tracked their movement, shifting in my seat so that I was no longer touching Bastien. I skeptically eyed the pair of witches as Bastien passed them a silver coin for their trouble.

He shouldn't be paying them. He should have their heads on spikes outside his castle gates.

One of the witches pointed to the itchy scabs on my neck—the ones that Mama's choker had cut into my skin, and muttered something to the other.

"I'll have Granny prepare a poultice for those wounds to prevent an infection, miss," she said.

"No!" I replied too loudly, eyes wide. Leary of anything else they might give me. But the strange looks I was receiving from my vampire companions forced me to clarify. I lifted my hand to the choker, playing my part. "No more dabbling in magick, I mean to say. I've learned my lesson. I can heal on my own."

Bastien's hand rested atop mine, curling his fingers around my palm and giving me an encouraging squeeze.

I stared at the place where our hands were connected, unmoving.

He didn't say anything. Didn't apologize, or tell me I was being strong, or any other words meant to soothe. He just touched me.

I could feel his touch warming my entire body, despite the temperature of his skin.

It was strange having this vampire comfort me when I was scared. No one did that for me. No one...but Sera.

I reminded myself that he wasn't doing it for my benefit but out of self-interest.

Above all else, I had to keep that in perspective. He was using me just as much as I was using him. And right now, I was here for information to pass on to my family.

"A poultice isn't magick, Miss," offered the witch. "Just a bundle of garden herbs seeped in Gran's special tea."

Her brow was damp with sweat, and her cheeks were flush. Her drab black skirts splattered with stew.

And her red hair was twisted in a giant knot at the top of her head, like a snake.

Tea, indeed.

I didn't believe her for a second. She was just saving face in front of Bastien. All my coven's healing magick was born from the power in their blood and the gift of Diana's blessing from the moon, like when Sera performed the pain relief spell.

I didn't want to be infected with whatever demonic magick they imbibed into their healing salves.

But just because I took it didn't mean I'd have to use it.

So, I swallowed my fear and my malice and offered the girl a smile that I hoped looked more like a snarl. "In that case, any help would be very welcome."

She curtsied and hurried off. My grin flattened as soon as her back was turned. The words were sandpaper on my tongue. Asking a dark witch for help, even if I didn't intend to use it, went against everything I'd ever been taught.

As soon as the witches left, Bastien removed his hand from mine, like touching me had caused him physical pain, and I quickly placed my own in my lap.

He went back to ignoring me, and I him, as he conversed with Natalia in their language. Even though I didn't understand Sanguisi, I could tell by the way they were talking in hushed tones and shooting glances at the boisterous red-haired woman with the ladle, that it was about her.

What did he call the witch? Shreesa? Yes. That was it.

I didn't let my attention linger on her and decided to take in my surroundings. To the right was a set of stairs across the dining room, and to the left, a door that likely went to a kitchen. Other than the floating lanterns, there was little in the way of magick happening out here.

The stuffed crows, bats, owls, and elk adorning the walls were a strange decor choice, but seemed harmless.

I spied several smaller buildings through the grimy window, all with orange light glowing from the windows.

I wondered if that's where they hid their relics and did their dark witchery. From everything Sera told me, the dark witches concealed the relics in unlikely places, guarded with protection spells and traps.

Without magick, I couldn't hunt for them and undo the spells, but I was very good at being invisible.

After years of being turned away from countless coven meetings, my curiosity demanded I learn to be silent. I'd gotten so good at it that my grandmother called me The Ghost of Proctor Hills.

A sudden rush of sadness made my throat constrict. Now, she was the ghost, after having been killed by the likes of them.

Diana, it was easier to be angry than afraid. And I was very angry with these agents of darkness.

I sat silent for a time, alone, even in a room filled with people, allowing the web of thoughts in my head time to untangle.

I was jolted back to the present when I felt Bastien's cool breath against my skin. His lips lowered to the shell of my ear. I pressed my lips together and closed my eyes to keep from gasping.

His breath elicited the same reaction as the night of the ball. A warm pull of desire inside my core. He hadn't even touched me, but the soft place between my thighs reacted as if he had. A buzz of anticipation had me squeezing them together.

I had to do something to stop my body's reaction to him.

"Eat," he commanded. "If you're able, I'd like to feed later. The meat will replenish the iron in your...body."

While I was appreciative of his language and not mentioning that word, I was caught off guard by his request.

I'd finally have to endure the inevitable feeding.

After cleansing my hands with one of the hot towels provided, I picked up my fork, lowering it to a piece of meat. Pretending it was a red-haired witch when I stabbed it.

"Did my sister get off okay?" I asked Natalia casually while trying to convince myself to put what the witches claimed to be rabbit into my mouth.

The vampire took a sip of her wine. Her clever eyes dragged from Bastien to me. I noticed that while she drank, he abstained. His glass untouched.

"Absolutely," she said, twisting the long stem between her fingers. Firelight reflecting off the lens of her glasses so that I couldn't see her eyes. "I packed her inside a coach myself. She's likely nearing Nightfall now," she said, her attention drifting back to Bastien, "if they rode as hard as we did."

I didn't miss the annoyed tone in her voice. And apparently, neither did Bastien.

"The harder we ride, the faster we return home," he replied sharply. "And for that, I will not apologize."

The vampire scoffed. "Just because I agree with you doesn't mean I like it." She drained the last of her thick red wine. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to have my dinner."

"Don't forget," Bastien added. Leveling a glare at her. "You'll join me. Later."

Natalia glanced over her shoulder toward Shreesa before nodding. She disappeared without another word, and Bastien sighed, rubbing his temples before lowering his forearms to the table.

My attention pricked as I watched Natalia stalk away. I slid a forkful of food into my mouth. The meat was well seasoned and juicy. Spite was the only thing keeping me from moaning. I chewed slowly, savoring the flavor, as I tried to understand what hadn't been said.

I'd been kept out of enough conversations to read between the lines. And I could tell that Bastien and Natalia had been arguing, likely about the witch, Shreesa, and they were going to meet up later to discuss it further.

I speared another bite of meat and shoved it into my mouth. That seemed like a conversation I wanted to observe.

It was time for The Ghost of Protcor Hills to haunt a new locale.

Who thinks this plan is going to go off without a hitch?

LOL

Question: What makes you relate to a main character? Or what's the most relatable thing they do?