Blood Enchanted (Blood Enchanted, Book 1): A Vampire Hunter Paranormal Romance Series by Nicola Claire

to function so far. Adrenaline and that deep seated sense of anticipation and desire. It was playing havoc with my body right now.
    But there was no way I could let this vampire stay. He held Luc against his wishes. He'd invaded my home. Damn it all to hell, I should be staking the bastard, bugger finding out where Luc was. Hakan would never tell.
    My stake was still in my hand. I fingered it.
    This wasn't the only course of action available to me. I could pull my cellphone out and dial Alain. He'd have his daylight servants here in an instant, or he'd brave the sun and come himself. He'd surely have a way to break this spell, if the spell existed at all.
    But calling Alain went against everything I was too. Asking for help had always been my greatest character flaw. I could handle this. I could deal with this and avoid recriminations from my father's spy master, or from Papa himself.
    I'd fought hard for my independence, for the right to live outside of the Plaza's walls. My mother had backed me, had placed her will behind mine. I couldn't let her down. I couldn't let myself down either.
    I watched as Hakan closed his eyelids, without a care in the world. His breathing slowed and deepened, purely a vampire trick of appearing disarmed. He wouldn't be, he'd be alert to my blood pumping furiously through my veins. To the scent of my frustration and confusion. To the subtle shift of my body for a fight. He acted as though he was falling asleep, but he wouldn't be.
    But would he expect me to stake him?
    Inside my stomach twisted, that ribbon of awareness twirled with ever increasing speed.
    Don't do it , it seemed to be saying. He means you no harm , it added with a flourish of peace and comfort, trying to make me feel something other than I should.
    I couldn't trust it. I didn't understand it. If it was on my side or not, I just did not know.
    Sweat beaded my upper lip, my hand shook as I raised the stake. My flash across the space between Hakan and myself was clumsy, my legs wanting to refuse the command to move forward, my arms wanting to deny the charge to attack.
    Hakan's eyes flicked open as the stake entered his chest. Surprise and hurt registered there, swiftly replaced with respect.
    I missed the vital organ. He wouldn't meet the final death. And as a level one Sanguis Vitam vampire he could survive the staking, as long as he had a powerful vampire remove the stake from his chest. In the meantime, he was compromised, and I'd lose a precious silver stake.
    I'd ended up straddling his thighs, my chest rising and falling too quickly, moisture threatening my eyes.
    "No regrets," he whispered. "You are Nosferatin."
    No Sanguis Vitam accompanied the words. I missed it. Too late.
    "You knew I'd do this," I murmured, my lips numb with the knowledge of what I'd done. My gut instinct had been right. He wouldn't have hurt me. He was still testing the kindred he had in his sights.
    "Of course, hayatim . I should have been disappointed had you not." He smiled, it looked pained. He was hiding the effects of the silver well. "What now?" he asked.
    He was mine to kill or pardon. He was completely mine to condemn.
    There was no way in hell I could bring him the final death. I hadn't when I staked him. I couldn't now when he was weakened by my attack. I refused to think too closely on why, even as the answer blared loudly inside my mind.
    You are mine .
    I shook my head, lifted my hand to one of his fangs. He opened his mouth to accommodate the move, a growl emitting from the back of his throat. More purr, than threat. A small prick on the pad of my thumb, a bubble of blood pooling on the tip, and I swiped it along his bottom lip.
    For a moment he just held my gaze, then his tongue darted out and he licked the blood clean. His eyes rolled back in his head, his chest heaved, which must have hurt with all that silver piercing skin, and then he shuddered.
    Words in a foreign language spilled from his tongue. Beautiful, lyrical,