A Vampire's Christmas Carol (3 page)

He did love her, and that was why she needed to get the fuck away from him. “Something is different.”  He turned away from her so that she wouldn’t see the fangs that were now fully extended.

Fangs. I’ve got fangs now. 
When in the hell had that happened?

The bed squeaked behind him.  “Nothing is different for me.”

Her scent deepened. She’d risen from the bed. She was coming toward him.  Ben squeezed his eyes shut.

“I love you,” Simone told him, “no matter what.
I love you.
”

“Please,” he’d never begged anyone before. “You should…go…”  Because she was too much temptation for him.

Her fingers slid over his shoulder. He was still naked, and that one touch rocked all the way through him.

“I want to be with you,” Simone said softly. “Always.”

Those soft words tore away the last shreds of his control. Nothing could have stopped him in that moment.

Need erupted. A dark, consuming need that swept away the man he’d been. He whirled back toward her.  They hit the bed together, and his hands flew out, ripping away her clothes.

Simone arched into his touch. She should have been shoving him away. She should have been horrified. Instead, she was caressing him. Making the need grow so much worse.

He licked her breast. She had full, round breasts with tight, pink nipples.  He kissed them. Sucked them. Laved them with his tongue.

His heart raced in his ears, the rhythm fast and frantic. Wait…was that his heartbeat, or hers?

Ben pushed up on his arms and stared down at her. His gaze locked on her neck. On the pulse that pounded there.  His breath heaved out. 

Bite.

“Ben?” Her hands slid over his chest. “What’s wrong?”

“I could…fucking…devour you.”

She smiled at him.
Smiled.
When she should be running. But if she ran—

I’d follow.

Her legs shifted against him, parting more.  His fingers slid into the haven there, pushing up into her sex. She was wet and tight, and she moaned when he thrust two fingers into her core. Her eyes held his. “I want you,” she whispered. “All of you.”

And there was no way he could hold back.

Ben thrust into her, driving deep in a plunge that left him balls-deep inside of her. She moaned and the sound maddened him even more. She was hot silk around his cock. So perfect. So…his.

He withdrew. Thrust deep. Again. Again.

Her fingers slid down his chest. He caught them. Pinned them to the bed. His mouth lowered over her neck. He licked her skin. Kissed her right over her racing pulse-point.

Raked her with his teeth. 

Her sex gripped him tightly as she wrapped her legs around his hips. She arched up against him and that move pushed her neck against his mouth.

Her pulse throbbed beneath his lips.

His teeth raked her again.

He withdrew. Thrust. The bed creaked beneath him. He couldn’t get inside of her deep enough. Couldn’t thrust hard enough.

He wanted to claim her. Every single part of her. He wanted to
own
her. 

“Ben!” Her sex contracted around him as she shuddered in release.

His own release pushed down on him, but he kept thrusting, not ready for that wave to hit him, not yet.

The smell of sex and sweet vanilla filled his nose. And her pulse…that racing pulse point, the fast rush of blood in her veins…it filled his mind.

His teeth sank into her throat.  Blood—hot, rich, better than wine, better than
anything
—spilled onto his tongue. He kept thrusting and drinking from her. Taking and taking.

“Ben…” Her voice was a whisper now. 

His climax hit him. The powerful surge shook his whole body, as wave after wave of release rushed through him. The pleasure was so intense that his muscles clenched. So intense he pulled his mouth from her throat and roared out her name.

But Simone didn’t move.

And…as he blinked down at her, Ben saw the blood dripping from the two puncture wounds on her neck. 

“B-baby?” Ben whispered.  The burning lust was gone. The physical need slaked. And the desperate need for her blood?
Satisfied.

He touched her cheek. Her skin was warm and soft beneath his rough fingers.  She stirred, blinking, but her gaze seemed unfocused and too weak as she gazed up at him. 

“What…what did you do?”  Simone asked.

He was still in her body.  Flush with release.  And he’d taken her blood. Nearly taken her life.

His teeth had transformed once more. Returned to a normal size. A human size.  He pulled from her body. So carefully now. Using the gentleness that he should have shown her before.

But he’d been a monster then.

That’s what I am now.
The blood. The fangs. The wounds from the attack that had healed so quickly.  There were the all signs of what he’d become. Only Simone didn’t see them for what they were. No, she didn’t see
him
for what he was.

Ben left the bed.  Simone reached out to him, but Ben shook his head. “I-I have to get a cloth for you. You’re bleeding.”  She needed more than a cloth. The woman might need a transfusion. How much blood had he taken?

But her fingers curled around his hand. As he stood by the bed, she lifted his wrist toward her mouth.  She pressed a kiss to his skin.  “That was incredible,” Simone told him, her voice husky.

What?  He’d
attacked
her. Bit her.

He pulled his hand from her. “I hurt you.”  The blood was still dripping down her neck. And, as he stared at it, the dark hunger grew within him once more.  He found himself leaning forward because he wanted to lick that blood away from her skin.

No.

He straightened. Backed away from her. Rushed into the bathroom and wet a cloth. He tried to suck in deep breaths, but they did nothing to calm him, and when Ben looked into the mirror—

My eyes are glowing.
The gold burned.  The man in that mirror, he didn’t look like Ben. Not really. His cheeks were sharper. His mouth…crueler.  And when he parted his lips, Ben saw the glint of his fangs.

Vampire.
 Those fanged freaks were only supposed to exist in movies. Books.  But he was staring at one right then.  Gazing into a reflection that showed him a monster.

And here I thought vamps weren’t supposed to have reflections.

“What’s wrong?”

He spun and found Simone in the bathroom. Naked and perfect.  He hurried to her. His hand was shaking when he wiped the blood away from her neck. 
Taste it. Take her again.
The sly command came from deep within Ben.

He tossed the cloth away, but he could smell her blood. Blood and sex.  A combination that seemed to be calling to a beast inside of him. “Leave, Simone,” he managed to say. 

She lifted her hand toward him. Her fingers were closed in a tight fist. “I-I found this a few minutes ago,” she said, “when I was…I was moving your clothes.” 

Her hand turned over. Her fingers opened. A gleaming, diamond ring rested in her palm.

Pain stabbed into his chest. Into the heart that was hers. She’d possessed it from the moment he’d met her.

Simone’s gaze was on his face. “This is why you wanted me to meet you in Central Park tonight.”

His hand lifted. He took the ring from her palm.

“Why are you telling me to leave when you were planning to ask me to marry you?” 

“Because everything has changed.” In an instant.  He shouldered past her. He had to get away from Simone and the scent of blood and sex. The lust rode him hard, and he was afraid, so afraid, that he’d lose control again.

He grabbed fresh clothes from his closet. Dressed as quickly as he could, then Ben hurried down to the lower level of the penthouse. He rushed by the Christmas tree. A huge, fourteen foot tree that he and Simone had painstakingly decorated.

He hadn’t put up a tree since his parents died.  He’d been cold and empty, just going through the motions of life.

Then he’d met her.

“Ben, wait!”

If he waited, they’d fuck again. And he’d drink from her once more.
No.
He wouldn’t take her blood. She was already too pale. The woman might not survive another attack. And, worse, he might not be able to stop if he tasted her again. “I’m sorry.” He shoved the ring into his pocket. “If you won’t go, I will.”

“It’s Christmas!” 

He glanced at the grandfather clock. Almost midnight. Just a few minutes away.

“Don’t do this!” Her footsteps rushed toward him. “Whatever is happening, we can handle it. Together. We can—”

She touched him.  A dark desire seemed to ignite at her touch. He twisted, grabbed her, and pinned her against the door. His mouth crashed down on hers.  Hot and hard, and he thrust his tongue past her lips and he—

Blood.

The taste of blood filled his mouth. He must have bit her. Sliced her lip with his fangs. 

Take more. Take everything.
That was
his
demand, from a dangerous place inside of Ben.

For an instant, he imagined fucking her against the door. Driving deep into her and making her scream as he sank his fangs into her throat and took more of that delicious blood from her. He could take and take until—

Nothing was left.

He pulled away.  Squeezed his eyes shut. “We’re done.” His voice was hoarse. Hollow. All emotion gone. There was no room for emotion.

Not when he was on the edge.

If I touch her again, I’ll hurt her.
Hurting her might not be all he did.

Ben was afraid he might kill her. 

Simone put a hand to her mouth as she stumbled away from the door.  He yanked that door open.  Left her, before he broke.

“I love you.” Her words followed him.

But he couldn’t stop.

He ran toward the elevator. The whole damn area was filled with Christmas decorations. Bright red bows. Smiling angels. Sparkling lights. When the elevator doors opened, Christmas music spilled out to him. 

 The walls in the elevator were made of mirrors, and his twisted image glared back at him.  Simone should have seen the monster when she looked at him. His golden eyes—his eyes should have been
green.
The fangs. The woman shouldn’t have missed the fangs. He’d bit her, drank her blood, and she’d still whispered that she loved him.

He rubbed his chest.  His heart hurt. 
He
hurt because Ben feared he’d lost his life.

Central Park.
His head jerked as the thought rushed through his mind. He just had to return to the park.  Find the bastard who’d attacked him. Then he could make the guy undo whatever hell he’d wrought on Ben.

When the elevator’s door opened, Ben lunged out into the lobby, then ran for the exit. He hurried out onto the busy New York street. Snow was falling, coming down harder with every moment that passed.

If I can find that guy in Central Park, maybe things can go back to normal.
Ben lurched forward.

Cars sped around him. Horns blasted. 

“Ben!”

He heard Simone’s cry, but Ben didn’t stop. He raced across the street.

Brakes squealed behind him.  A pain-filled scream ripped into the air.  The cry chilled his blood.

There was a…thud. A sound that sickened Ben as he spun around.

Time slowed then. He saw Simone—a black SUV had just hit her. The impact had thrown her into the air, and she bounced against the vehicle’s windshield.  The windshield cracked beneath her, and Simone rolled, sliding off the SUV’s hood and falling to the ground.

Other drivers hit their brakes.  There were collisions as the vehicles slipped in the snow and slammed into each other. The driver of the black SUV jumped out and ran toward Simone.

Ben could smell Simone’s blood again. Only this time, the scent didn’t call to the strange new beast within him. The scent terrified him.

Ben leapt across the street. He seemed to reach Simone in an instant. He grabbed the driver who was leaning over her. Ben hurtled the man back, then he bent over Simone.

Her eyes were closed.

Blood streamed from a gash on her head. And her neck…Simone’s neck was at an unnatural angle. “No.” He shook his head. His shaking fingers touched her shoulder. “Baby,
no!
”

Sirens screamed in the distance.  He lifted his hand and put his fingers to her throat. Ben searched for her pulse.

Only there wasn’t one.  

Simone!
This was their night. He’d planned it all so perfectly. A proposal in Central Park. Making love under the Christmas tree that she loved so much in his penthouse.  He had presents for her. Dozens of presents that he’d wrapped and hidden upstairs.

Simone didn’t have a family. She’d been alone, just like he was. They were going to start a new life together. They were never going to be alone again.
Always—together.
That had been his grand plan, just hours before.

Her pulse wasn’t beating
.

“Mister, I’m so sorry!” A man’s voice.  Coming closer. It was the fool he’d tossed away seconds before. “She ran right in front of me. I think she was chasing someone—”

She was chasing me.

And he hadn’t even looked back at her.

Fear and pain twisted through Ben. But he bent, and carefully—
I should have used care before!—
he brushed his lips over hers. No breath whispered from her mouth. Simone didn’t move at all.

The pain in his chest got worse. Burning at first, then…icing. Freezing him as the snow fell.

“Mister…mister, let’s get her help!”

His beautiful Simone.  She’d swept into his life just weeks before. Changed everything.  She worked at the shelter on Forty-Ninth Street. She baked cookies for the people there. She—

Was gone.

He threw back his head and bellowed his fury as the pain engulfed him. 

“Mister…?”

Ben spun around. He grabbed for the jerk’s throat. “
You did this!”

There were gasps around him. 

“
Look at his eyes!”

“His teeth! Dear God, do you see his teeth? Those are fangs!”

A crowd had gathered. They were screaming as they stared at him. As they turned and fled. Ben dropped the man in his hold. The guy ran, yelling about monsters.