"You," Her eyes widened as she recognised the voice. "Smell," She choked down a sob. "Divine," Isla screamed again. Without thinking, she threw the bag with all her might and at the same time ran blindly towards what she hoped desperately were the stairs. Instead of feeling the railing, she ran straight into a solid wall of ice-cold flesh. She stopped dead. Whimpering softly, her breath coming out in gasps, she slowly spread her fingers and ran them over hard lean chest; she touched small puckered nipples, then a collarbone, then a jawline. She did not realize she was mumbling until a slender hand encircled her neck and squeezed slightly. "No...must be dreaming...no...can't die...Leslie will...kill me...need to wake...up." "But you're not dreaming my sweet. Can you not feel my pleasure?" He pressed himself against her and Isla's eyes widened further. "That is real." He squeezed her neck tighter. "This is real.' Young witches Isla, Isabeau and Ashra race against time to end a spate of attacks on their peers with the assistance of the grumpy not-at-all-assisting vampire Arden while still navigating all the horrors of teen life. All Arden wants is to return to the long sleep but the three witches only care about saving their tiny, irrelevant town. For once, this old vampire would rather avoid puny humans and their silly problems but Arden rarely gets what he wants. Follow the unlikely heroes on their road of discovery and even redemption.