A Fistful of Vampires by Katie MacAlister

Author:Katie MacAlister
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Katie MacAlister
Published: 2020-07-30T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Three

“Who are you?” The voice was as rough and low as I remembered. “You are not the charmer. You cannot be. What are you doing in this house?”

Sebastian was bound to a chair, held by a thin nylon laundry line Damian had found in the basement. Before I could answer, Sally, only just returned from a quick trip to my flat, gasped and floated over until she was directly in front of him. “Elle est very charming! You, however, are tres, tres rude!”

“He said charmer, not charming,” I said slowly, racking my brain to dig out information on charmers. Fleeting thoughts skittered away as I was swamped with the memory of Sebastian’s mouth on mine.

“So?” Sally contined to stand with her hands on her hips, glaring at Sebastian. He glared right back at her.

“A charmer is someone who can unmake curses,” he said, turning his gaze to me. I felt it as if it were a physical touch.

“That’s right—they lift curses and wards and things. You are quite correct; I am not a charmer. My name is Ysabelle Raleigh. I am tutoring Damian. I take it you are Sebastian?”

“Yes. Where is Adrian?” His brows pulled together as he looked down at himself, noticing that his arms had been tied behind him. When he looked back up to me, his gray-blue eyes were flashing with indigation and just a smidgen of disbelief. “You think to hold me prisoner?”

Sally’s form shimmered indignantly. “Oui, vous êtes dérangé man! And there you’ll stay until vous expliquiez why you’re attacking poor Belle!”

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed at her for a moment. “You are aware, are you not, that you are not speaking actual French?”

“Le gasp!” Sally said, following word by deed and gasping in a thoroughly shocked manner. “Je suis too!”

“No, you are not. You are mangling a perfectly nice language—”

“Zût alors!” she interrupted, shaking an ethereal fist in his face. “I should pop vous on the nose—”

“All right, that’s enough, you two.” I gave my spirit guide a very stern look. She bristled, her eyes flashing. “Sally, please leave us alone.”

“Like Abaddon I will! You are not...not...whatever the word for ‘safe’ is—”

I shooed her toward the door. “Don’t be silly. He’s bound quite tightly, and if I need any help, I’ll yell for you.”

“Mais—” She shot both of us a shared indignant look as I shoved her through the door.

“I’m sorry about that,” I said, giving Sebastian a wide berth as I returned to the desk I’d been leaning against. “She’s a bit ecentric.”

One of his eyebrows rose. “An understatement, but one I am willing to let go in order to deal with more important issues.”

“Yes...your injuries seem to be healing. I take it you received them fighting the demon? Why did you do it?” I asked, desperate to distract myself from the strange attraction.

Damian and I had half dragged, half carried the unconscious Sebastian into the library, a room filled with comfortable leather chairs and several bookcases, all dominated by a large rosewood desk.

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