Follow The Night (Bewitch The Dark)

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Book: Follow The Night (Bewitch The Dark) Read Online Free PDF
Author: Michele Hauf
Desrues…” Gabriel muttered the name. “You don’t sound like any French woman I have ever met.” A touch of brogue tinted her speech. “You’re not French?”
    “She’s Scottish,” Toussaint offered gaily. “Er, half and half. Her mother was Scottish—”
    “—and my father French,” she finished.
    “It seems the two of you have shared much.”
    “Merely conversation,” she replied.
    “For two days,” Toussaint added helpfully. “During your convalescence.”
    He switched his gaze between the twosome. Toussaint savored every syllable of this exchange. The servant had a penchant for the occult, the unexplained, the downright unbelievable. The valet regularly visited Mesmer’s shop on the Place Vendôme. He was always so pleased to be involved in anything beyond the mundane. Poor, gullible man.
    “I’ve come to help you.”
    Gabriel angled a scrutinizing eye on the woman. Why would a strange woman—albeit, a gorgeous and enticing woman and smelling like what ?—wish to help him? He had already been attacked. Help was too late. And he knew nothing of Roxane Desrues, save she was the loveliest scoop of strawberries and cream, and he should have been in bed with her two nights ago instead of falling victim to a vampire.
    Preposterous!
    “You are lucky, monsieur—er, Leo. Of a sort,” she said. “Few can claim their lives following an attack from the vampire.”
    The deuce! “Monsieur Anjou was not a vampire,” he spat.
    “Did you name the man Anjou?”
    Insistent eyes riveted to his face.
    “Yes, Anjou. Madame de Marmonte introduced us.”
    “He was in the salon?”
    “Yes. He seemed normal, save the antiquity of his attire. He appeared as though he belonged in the seventeenth century. What do you mean I was lucky of a sort ?”
    “Bother that. You must tell me: the man introduced himself to you as Monsieur Anjou?”
    Gabriel nodded. He prodded the bandage on his neck. “Toussaint, take this off me. I want to see the damage.”
    “I’ll return shortly,” Roxane called as she strolled out of the bed chamber.
    “Where is she off to? Who the devil is that woman?” Gabriel twisted to follow her exit as Toussaint tugged at the bandages. A layer of lint clung to his wound and the valet picked carefully. “Has she really been here for days?”
    “Mademoiselle Desrues has come and gone most discreetly. Would you sit still? And leave the shirt on.”
    “It’s a monstrosity.” He tugged at the loose neckline, scratchy with adornment. “All this lace!”
    “There is a woman in the house, I will remind you.”
    “Why did you leave me in this awful fluff? You know I cannot abide such frippery. Leo gets left at the door.”
    “She would have questioned.”
    Gabriel sighed. Toussaint was more than just a valet; he was a capable ally who knew his weaknesses better than Gabriel did at times.
    That he’d been so out of his head he must have been carried inside…? The shame.
    “Very well, a fop I must remain until she leaves. She is lovely. If a trifle touched.”
    “She’s not to be trusted, Renan.”
    “Why not? And she smells like what?”
    “Rosemary,” Toussaint stated with annoyance. He pressed a wet cloth to Gabriel’s neck. “As for the vampire, I believe.”
    “Believe what?”
    “In the myth. Or rather, the truth. Just because you’ve not before seen one does not mean they cannot exist.”
    “You are a sorry bottle of spoiled grapes, Toussaint. You’ve dipped your brain into Mesmer’s magnetic tank one too many times.”
    “We do not put our heads in the tank, only our hands.”
    “No matter. And I will thank you to catch the Ripper next time I am—”
    “Indisposed?” The valet tossed the bandages onto the silver serving tray. “Now listen, Renan, the woman would not allow me to call a surgeon after your attack. You could have bled to death.”
    “And yet you, an able man, a full head taller than the delicate wench, succumbed to her wishes?”
    “Well, she…”
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