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

incomprehensible.
    Then with a snap of his lids upwards, ice-blue and silver stared back at me.
    "You are mine, hayatim ," he declared.
    My lips parted, the words almost escaping on their own. I tensed my jaw and refused to utter them. I was nobody's to command.
    He huffed a pain-filled laugh, lifted a heavy hand to wrap gently around my throat, holding me captive, when we both knew he hadn't the strength.
    Then he murmured, barely audible now, as sweat graced his skin in a sickening show of his pain, "Let the games begin."
    I stumbled backwards, heart pounding, blood surging, my stomach doing somersaults of delight, while my consciousness screamed in defiance. And Hakan Bahar slowly faded into shadows and disappeared into the darker recesses of my home. For a second I thought he was still there, but my stomach had settled, that new talent quietening as though it hadn't caused a monumental amount of shit for my life.
    Oh, freaking Goddess. Just what the hell had I done?

7
    Gotta Get Your Kicks Where You Can
    W ell , there were two things I could take away from this debacle, at the very least. Hakan Bahar did not intend to kill me. And he was a level one Sanguis Vitam vampire. All the rest - the hunger, the respect, the words - could all have been an act.
    Bahar was a political player, of that I was certain. Being drawn here, if he had in fact been drawn here at all, was for more than just a woman.
    He wanted power. Power talked.
    I refused to believe there was any other possible explanation. Hakan Bahar wanted power, and he was using my brother to get it.
    My hands fisted, nails biting into skin. Memories of this morning - visceral and real - surged through to my very core. I rolled my head on my shoulders. Sucked in a cleansing breath of air. And then knocked hard against the closed door before me.
    Frank would have known I was already here. He would have known the moment I entered Newmarket; I’d felt eyes on my body for the past few minutes. What accompanied those eyes I could only guess. But shooting the daughter of the Champion in the back was not the wisest thing for the head of the ghouls to be involved in.
    The door to the Guts & Glory sports bar opened, displaying a darkened interior within. No one stood on the other side; they were either behind the door itself, or Frank was being overly cautious.
    “I come in peace,” I offered, taking a step across the threshold. The sickly sweet scent of years worth of spilled beer met my nose, as my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting.
    The large screen TV was on down one end of the bar, something nondescript flickering across it. Darts hung suspended on a dart board; forgotten. Half empty glasses and a basket of spare ribs sat on a table just to the side. A wash cloth lay crumpled on the bar’s surface. A cigarette burned down to the stub in an ashtray next to it.
    I’d interrupted.
    I stepped into the middle of the room, my back itching with the need to check behind the door. It was no use, I couldn’t help it, I was nervous enough as it was being here, knowing what was about to transpire. I glanced over my shoulder just as the door swung closed. No one was standing there.
    The ghouls were twitchy.
    “Frank,” I called into the strained silence.
    “You’ve got a flippin’ cheek, showing your face here,” a gruff voice said from behind the bar. The shadows shifted, and Frank materialised. It was a neat trick, one his predecessor, Pete, hadn’t quite mastered.
    That’s why Frank was in charge now.
    “Your ghoul almost reneged on an info exchange,” I said with a shrug of my shoulders, approaching the bar.
    Frank held my steady gaze with an emotionless one of his own. He was tall and lean, had nondescript brown hair and a bushy beard. Sharp hazel eyes, long face, and high cheek bones. All of it hiding the strength, both in physique and intelligence, that he commanded.
    And he wouldn’t be alone. I forced myself not too look too hard into the shadows.
    “You open