Witching Hour (Blood Magic #3) Read Online L.H. Cosway

Categories Genre: Fantasy, Magic, New Adult, Paranormal, Romance, Vampires Tags Authors: Series: Blood Magic Series by L.H. Cosway

Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)

Read Online Books/Novels:

Witching Hour (Blood Magic #3)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

L.H. Cosway

Book Information:

Something is rotten in Tribane city. The humans are descending into madness and Tegan is certain that the sorcerer Theodore has something to do with it. Oh yeah, and she’s the reason Ethan’s been exiled by the vampires.

This would be fine if it weren’t for the fact that he’s renting the house across the street, which means she can’t escape his condemnation, nor the fact that she still has strong and intense feelings for the two-hundred- and seventy-seven-year-old vampire.

Tegan has her work cut out for her keeping those feelings in check while contending with a lust potion, a father who needs rescuing, and a vampire governor out for revenge.

Witching Hour is book #3 in L.H. Cosway’s Blood Magic Series. A previous unedited version of this story was published under the title Tegan’s Magic.
Books in Series:

Blood Magic Series by L.H. Cosway

Books by Author:

L.H. Cosway

“If your dear heart is wounded, my wild heart bleeds with yours.”

Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu, Carmilla.


The fighting sprang out of nowhere.

One minute I was walking down the street minding my own business, and the next I was standing in the middle of a riot.

Turning the corner onto Campion Row, one of the main shopping districts in Tribane, my eyes were assaulted by a fist making contact with somebody’s face. Then, when I had the chance to scan the area, I realised it wasn’t just one fist and one face. Hundreds of people were fighting each other. Just going at it like they were taking part in a giant MMA tournament.

What fresh hell was this?

A thin brunette who looked like she wouldn’t normally harm a fly yanked on the hair of a blonde woman, spouting angry profanities into her face, spittle flying from her mouth.

Was there some sort of controversial protest happening today that’d gotten out of hand? It was the only logical explanation that came to mind as I took a step back, edging away from the chaos. But when I turned back to go the way I came, the riot had spread.

Had the entire city taken crazy pills?

This was too bloody weird.

Only a moment ago shoppers were wandering casually about the street, and now they were kicking the living crap out of each other.

A group of teenagers banded together, throwing bricks and smashing the windows of an electronics store. Several employees came rushing out to try and stop them, which only created more fighting. The teenagers kicked and punched at the polo shirt wearing employees.

At first, the polo shirts tried to stop the teenagers from doing any more damage, but it was like a flip switched in them and violence took over as they fought back. I stepped away, backing myself up against the concrete wall of the building behind me. Two men fell to the ground a foot or two away from me. The man on top pummelled the other man’s face, bloodying his nose.

“Hey, stop that!” I shouted.

The aggressor paused his pummelling, and my heart pounded when he turned and glared at me. There was a rampant, crazed look in his eyes. Not good, not good at all. He wore a wool coat, corduroy trousers, sensible brown shoes, and his balding dark hair had speckles of grey in it. He looked as straight-laced as they came, like an accountant or a financial advisor doing some shopping on his day off. Not some mental case who would randomly beat on a passing stranger. He let go of the man he’d been punching and advanced on me.

“You little tramp,” he seethed. “What did you just call me?”

The anger and hate in his words were odd, since I didn’t actually call him anything. I only told him to stop what he’d been doing. The fighting and looting were still going on around me, but all I could focus on was this man’s bloodshot eyes and the saliva that began to drip from his mouth, like a rabid dog.

I pressed my entire body even harder against the concrete wall as he came towards me.

“I didn’t call you anything,” I said in an even tone.

“I heard what you said, you fucking bitch! You’re going to pay for that,” he spat.

“Seriously? Are you deranged?”

Okay, that probably wasn’t the smartest thing to say, but I tended to get rude when I was frightened. If this man were a supernatural being, like a vampire or a dhampir, I’d have no hesitation using my magic to fight him. But he was only a human, so I didn’t know if my sparks would simply incapacitate him or kill him. I couldn’t saddle the death of a stranger on my poor, abused conscience. I already had enough to be feeling guilty about.

“I’ll show you deranged,” the man retorted, his hand fisted as he brought it down on me, punching me right in the face. Fuck that hurt! Sorcerers and ancient vampires might be psychos, but humans could be violent dickheads when the mood took them.

“Stop! You’re hurting me!” I begged as he lifted his leg and landed several kicks to my shin and one in the ankle. Right, well I’d been trying to save my conscience the addition of murder, but this prick had it coming. Without much effort, I summoned my magic. Sparks tickled my palm, which I raised and smacked directly into his forehead.

Immediately, he cried out, a look of pure, undiluted rage marring his features. He called me a see you next Tuesday before backing away several yards.

“Well, that’s not very nice,” I muttered as I glanced at the electronics store just as the teenagers fled. They were laden down with looted items. One of the employees grabbed a fleeing looter by his collar and pulled him to the ground, punching him hard in the ribs.