The Witching Hour – Love Bitten Read Online Fiona Davenport

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Insta-Love, Novella, Paranormal, Vampires, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 126(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
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Midnight hissed at my parents before trotting away, her tail flicking in agitation. She had never taken to them, and the feeling was mutual. Although many witches in our coven had cats, they’d pitched a fit when I got her. Luckily, the High Priestess had taken my side in that situation two years ago. I couldn’t imagine my life without my beautiful feline friend in it.

Grabbing some of the additional decorations I purchased yesterday, I stalked toward the door, flung it open, and headed onto my front porch. My parents joined me as I dragged the ladder I’d left in the corner over to where I needed it to be. Of course, neither of them helped. Not that I expected them to offer, but it would’ve been nice.

My mom shook her head with a sigh. “Is this why you wanted to live off coven lands? So you could celebrate this ridiculous holiday?”

“Halloween isn’t ridiculous. It’s fun,” I argued as I climbed up the ladder to hang extra cobwebs on the ceiling of my covered porch. I’d decorated it a week ago, but I’d decided this morning that it needed more oomph before all the fun started tonight. “I’m looking forward to seeing all the kids dressed in cute costumes when they come to trick-or-treat.”

“You’re seriously going to skip the coven’s Samhain Eve bonfire to hand out candy to children?” my dad sneered.

I had never missed a Samhain or Beltan celebration during my eighteen years on this planet. They were our two biggest holidays, and everyone in the Bane coven attended. But I had been feeling the strongest urge to distance myself from my community while I still could. Also, trick-or-treating looked like so much fun in the movies, so I wanted to see what Halloween was like for the mundanes. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be a disappointment. I had more than enough of that in my life already.

Glancing over my shoulder, I confirmed, “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, stomping across the porch to trot down the stairs.

My mom followed him but paused at the top to say, “We didn’t raise you to be so self-involved. You’ve let your powers fool you into thinking that the world revolves around you, but it doesn’t.”

Luckily, she swiftly moved down the steps after lobbing that verbal barb at me. If she had stuck around for much longer, I wasn’t sure I would’ve been able to hold back an angry retort, which wouldn’t help the situation at all.

Arguing with my parents never accomplished much. I had learned long ago to pick my battles, like I’d done with Midnight and moving to this house. I tried my best to only push back when it was important to me, but it was getting harder since my last birthday. Most likely because I felt the clocking ticking down on my freedom. I wanted to enjoy it as much as possible…while I still could. Starting with celebrating Halloween with my neighbors.

As my parents climbed into their car, I carefully hung the extra cobwebs, adding plastic spiders here and there. When I was done, I climbed down and dusted off my palms. Staring up at my decorations, I grinned. With my house looking as though it truly was haunted—like I’d recently heard one of the neighbor kids tell one of their friends when they walked past—tonight would be perfect.

2

REN

You would think that vampires despised Halloween. Particularly with all the kids dressing up as what folklore, movies, and books had convinced humans were “real” vampires. However, their ridiculous notions were often a source of amusement for most of us.

Although, they were not entirely off the mark when it came to nightwalkers, the vampires that nightmares were made of. Unable to be in the sun and susceptible to garlic, holy water, and a stake to the heart, nightwalkers were made through a bite, not born.

Unlike daywalkers—which included me and my family—who were impervious to all of those tools. We were extremely hard to kill, and while we didn’t turn to ash in the sun, we were still nocturnal creatures. Our eyes were sharpest in the dark, and the moonlight wouldn’t burn our very pale, sensitive skin. It had only taken getting sunburned once for me to learn that being dubbed “daywalkers” didn’t mean shit about how we lived.

Anyway, the kids were pretty cute with their fake fangs and Transylvanian accents.

But I never expected what I saw when I joined my brother’s five-year-old daughter, Maxine, and four-year-old son, Marshall, for trick-or-treating.

I teleported to a spot between the two houses nearest them to avoid being seen by one of the many humans in the area. Then I moved quickly to catch up with them. The kids were debating approaching the house because it was supposedly haunted. Marshall wanted his dad to walk with him, which left Maxine looking unsure about what to do.


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