Holiday with a Vampire 4 (8 page)
Read Holiday with a Vampire 4 Online
Authors: Susan Krinard,Theresa Meyers,Linda Thomas-Sundstrom
Goodman stared at von Grunwald. “Why should we trust them?”
“Because they could have killed us, and they didn’t,” she said. “We will continue north to Sacramento.”
“And we will continue looking for our elusive prey,” von Grunwald said with an ironic lift of one eyebrow. He pulled on his helmet. “
Auf wiedersehen,
Lieutenant. I hope you succeed in winning your freedom.” He bowed to Fiona and clicked his heels.
“Hauptmannin.”
He signaled his men again, and they began to retreat, backing away from Fiona’s troops.
Suddenly Goodman moved, aiming the Vampire Slayer at von Grunwald. Before she could move to stop him, Kane flung himself in front of the Nightsider.
“Kane!” Fiona shouted. She tried to push him out of the way. “Goodman! Joel! Stand down! Remember what we’re fighting for!”
Everything stopped. The rest of Fiona’s troops had moved into position behind Joel. Von Grunwald’s scouts aimed their own weapons more quickly than Fiona’s human sight could follow.
Senator Sandoval walked up fearlessly behind Joel and laid his hand on the commander’s shoulder. “We have all lost too much in this war,” he said. “Let there be no more pain, no more sorrow. On this day of all days, let us be at peace.”
“Joel,” Fiona said softly. “Will you be the one who destroys that peace?”
Slowly Goodman lowered the VS120. In the growing light of dawn, she could just make out his features through his visor. His face was racked with pain, shame and the memory of losses he had never quite put behind him.
“Peace,” he said in a broken voice. He threw his weapon to the ground and looked at Fiona. “I betrayed you,” he said. “Captain, I wasn’t right in my head. All I could think of—” He broke off. “There are no excuses.” He came to attention. “I stand ready to face a court-martial when we return to the Enclave.”
She went to him, stepping around the VS. “We’ll deal with that when we come to it,” she said. “Right now we still have work to do.”
He bowed his head. She heard a faint sound behind her and turned. The Opiri were melting away like winter fog, retreating to the shelter of the hangar while their long shadows stretched over the pink-tinged snow.
And then they were gone.
Kane joined her, hovering protectively behind her as if he expected Goodman to threaten her again.
Goodman looked over her shoulder at Kane. “What I did...” he began.
“Your captain has accepted your apology,” Kane said. “But never threaten her again.”
“No,” Goodman said. “No.”
Kane nodded and followed Fiona as she went to meet the senator. “That was very foolish of you, sir,” she said sternly.
“I know it,” Sandoval said with an apologetic smile, “but I’m glad I came. I witnessed something extraordinary today.”
“Because of Kane,” Fiona said, reaching behind her for Kane’s hand.
“No, Fiona,” Kane said. “Because of you.”
“You gonna keep thankin’ each other,” Alfie said from the direction of the hangar, “or d’ya think a poor body could get a li’l rest?”
Kane and Fiona turned to see Alfie wading toward them through the snow, grinning from ear to ear.
“Alfie,” Kane said, grabbing his friend’s arms and giving him a shake. “Where the hell were you?”
“Keepin’ a bead on the Hun,” Alfie said. “Just in case ’e decided ’e wanted ta take you along with him.”
“But he didn’t,” Kane said, releasing the other man.
“Just like the Truce all over again,” Alfie said. “But that time we went right back to fightin’ the next day.”
“Maybe we will, too, for a while,” Fiona said. “But perhaps
this
time we can stop it before it ends in tragedy. For everyone.” She searched Kane’s face. “What will you do now?”
He stared at her as if she’d spoken in a language too ancient for even the Nightsiders to remember. “Go with you,” he said. “Protect the ambassador. And protect
you
from your own foolhardiness.”
“You’re one to talk,” she said. “You were trying to move away from your Bloodmaster’s control. You have a second chance now. If you come with us, you may become trapped. You could turn back to
them,
because you won’t have any choice.”
“No,” he said. “There’s something stronger than any Bloodmaster’s influence.” He hesitated. “Did you mean what you told me in the hangar?”
“Did you mean what you said to von Grunwald about your feelings?”
In answer, he took her into his arms and kissed her with her soldiers, the ambassador and Alfie looking on.
She pulled away, a little embarrassed at her lack of professional control. It was a pity there were so many witnesses, or she might have committed a real indiscretion.
“You’d better move on,” Kane said, letting her go.
“Not without you,” Fiona said.
“I can catch up after sundown. Not all the Opiri looking for us are likely to remember the Christmas Truce.”
“But
we
will,” Fiona said, her heart expanding with almost unbearable joy. “For the rest of our lives.” She gave him a stern look. “You know the direction we’ll be heading. I expect you to catch up with us by midnight at the latest.”
“Yes, Captain.”
“And you’re never going to take blood from anyone but me. Is that clear?”
He saluted her, his expression grave but his eyes sparkling. “Yes, Captain.”
“I love you, Lieutenant,” she whispered.
Kane took her hands and kissed them.
Alfie rolled his eyes.”Well,” he said, “looks like I’ll ’ave ta come along ta look after ya both. Never trust people in love, ’at’s what I say.” He gave a long-
suffering sigh and looked at Kane. “Ya needs yer rest, guv, ’n’ I don’t want ta sit up listenin’ all day ta ya
moonin’ over the lady.” He met Fiona’s eyes. “As fer you...ya better get movin’. Ya got a lot o’ ground left ta cover.”
Kane grinned at Fiona. “More than you can possibly imagine.”
* * *
The baby was born nine months from the night Fiona and Kane had spent together in the hangar.
She looked completely normal by human standards, with Fiona’s red hair and Kane’s gray eyes. He had been completely unsurprised, but Fiona had been in a state of blissful shock from the moment she’d learned she was pregnant.
Kane sat on the couch in their apartment, holding Fiona while she held the baby. He couldn’t decide which of the two of them was more beautiful. It was a pointless exercise.
Little Jenna began to whimper. Fiona laughed.
“Hungry again, you little monster?” She glanced back at Kane, flushing. “Sorry. Sometimes I forget...”
“That I’m not human?” He nuzzled her hair. “Your mayor and congress managed to forget. I am grateful for their poor memories.”
It hadn’t been easy at the beginning. When Fiona and her troops had returned from the peace mission—minus the ambassador, who had remained in Sacramento with his aide and two personal guards—Kane had hardly faced a warm welcome, especially when he declined to provide Defense and Intelligence with information they could use to prolong the war if negotiations were to fail.
But Kane had faith peace would prevail, and in the end, DI had let him go. For his part in aiding the ambassador’s mission, he had been permitted to take up residence in the City and marry Fiona. It was the first such marriage known since the Awakening.
Fiona opened her blouse to let Jenna take her breakfast. When the baby was asleep, she and Kane would retire to the bedroom, where she would give Kane what he needed and they would give each other what they never tired of.
“She still seems like a miracle to me,” she murmured, stroking the baby’s wispy hair. “Do you think this is the first child born to a human and a Nightsider?”
There were still so many things Kane couldn’t tell her. But now that peace was so close, the time would soon come when there would be no more need for secrets. He had a feeling Fiona wouldn’t be content to stay safely ensconced in the City once she knew there were innocent lives she and Kane might be able to help.
“Even if Jenna isn’t the first,” he said, “she’ll still be important, a living link between our peoples.”
“Yes,” Fiona murmured. “But we can’t ever let her believe she has to be anyone but who she wants to be. She’ll never go through what you did.”
“I’m grateful now,” Kane said softly, kissing her temple. “If I hadn’t been converted, we would never have met.”
She looked up into his face. “Funny how things work out in the end,” she said with a tender smile.
There was a brisk knock on the door. Fiona covered herself and shifted the baby into the crook of her arm. Kane took Jenna from her and made noises he never would have believed he was capable of making. Fiona went to the door and opened it just as Alfie walked in.
“Awright,” Alfie said, glancing from Fiona to Kane and the baby. “’Bout time ol’ Uncle Alfie got a chance with the li’l mite.” He took Jenna from Kane’s arms, and the baby gurgled contentedly.
Alfie cooed and made a series of ridiculous faces, even though Jenna was already falling asleep again. “Go on,” he said without looking up. “I’ll take ’er for a li’l walk. You get on with—” He tilted his head toward the bedroom.
Fiona blushed. “Alfie—”
“Cap’n,” Alfie said, walking toward the front door, “time you ’n’ the lieutenant get workin’ on more o’ them li’l peacemakers.”
Before Fiona could protest, Kane had her in his arms. He kissed her neck, grazing her skin gently with his teeth.
“The sergeant always did have good sense,” he murmured.
Fiona laughed and took his hand.
* * * * *
The Gift
Theresa Meyers
This book is dedicated to my readers.
Whoever you are, wherever you may be, know that you are greatly appreciated, for without you,
I wouldn’t have a reason to send my stories out into the world. Thank you.
Chapter 1
H
e had to find her.
The last holder of the locket had passed away almost a month ago, and Cullen McCormack had to find the new owner as soon as possible. Time was running out.
He knew her name, Angelica Edwards. He knew that she lived in New Harmony, Pennsylvania. But beyond what he could dig up on the internet, he knew little else save she was Tamara Edwards’s only daughter and his entire existence hung in the balance. Not that he called continually hiding in the shadows and constantly living in fear that a single woman’s whim might be your demise an existence.
Being immortal had sounded like the greatest gift when he’d been young and brash, but if Cullen McCormack had learned one thing in the past two hundred years, it was that being immortal hardly ever turned out the way you expected.
For one, he never anticipated how tiring it would become to try to convince one woman after another to give him back a locket that held his immortal soul. Especially when his efforts always failed. For another, he’d never considered how lonely it would be to live without love.
Not the physical sensation, mind you, but the warm feeling deep in one’s bones—that utter certainty that another person made the sun rise and set just by their sheer presence.
The weight of his morose thoughts matched the fat snowflakes falling from the leaden sky. Cullen pulled the lapels of his black wool coat tighter about his throat as he sniffed the air fragrant with the scents of wood smoke, evergreens, mulled apple cider rich with spices, and wet wool. Normally shadows stretched luxuriously along the walkways and streets of New Orleans at this time of day. But not here.
He couldn’t wait to get out of New Harmony and return home to the warmth of New Orleans. Every time the locket changed hands, he came close to being damned for eternity, thanks to the scorn of Marie, the voodoo priestess he’d crossed so long ago.
The twinkle of holiday lights in the trees lining the street reminded him of the fireflies that had danced in the thick, humid heat of the night he’d last been mortal.
That night, crickets had hummed a chorus in the darkness as he’d climbed the steps of Marie’s rickety gray cypress plank cabin, the shake roof draped heavily with the pale green of Spanish moss from the trees all around.
“Der’s dat Cullen.” The way Marie had stared at him with her dark, smoldering eyes should have told him that she’d discovered his tryst with the plantation owner’s flirtatious daughter, Lisette. But he’d been too stupid to see the signs. Too confident in himself and his prowess with ladies to believe he was in any danger.
He’d reached out to hold Marie’s hand and pressed a kiss to it. Her eyes burned with black fire.
“You have betrayed me, Cullen.”
“Betrayed? Don’t be silly.”
“Dat porcelain French doll been worth it?”
Cullen pulled Marie into his arms, pressing her womanly curves against him. “Lisette was nothing but a dalliance. I don’t love her, as I love you.”
Marie plied her long fingers through his hair, her nails dragging along his scalp as she skimmed her lush lips over his. “You don’t know what love is. But you going to learn.” She gave a vicious tug and pulled out some of his hair.
Cullen shoved her away from him, massaging his scalp. “What the devil was that for, woman?”
“Exactly. De debil you be, de debil you become.” The heated words cut quickly to his core, like a searing knife melting butter. She tossed the dark strands of his hair into the small fire she had burning in the brazier on her worktable, and the flames turned green.
Cullen realized the flame danced on the surface of a black liquid. Perhaps it was port or something stronger. He couldn’t smell any alcohol coming from the pot, only the dank, fetid smell of the bayou and the musty odor of dried herbs that hung in shriveled bunches from her cabin’s rafters.
From her pocket she pulled an oval gold locket and swung it through the greenish flames. The locket’s shining surface reflected the oddly colored flames.
“Cullen McCormack, you always asked me how to make de magic dat make you immortal. Now you going to find out.” Her husky voice chanted in her native tongue, the rhythm of it vibrating straight through him so that he felt it as deeply as his own beating heart.
“Da girl dat takes dis locket holds your soul. If she love you wit all her heart, den she may give you de locket. If she does not, you will be at her beck and call her whole life, but never her love.
“When de time come and you can truly love in return, you’ll have but one chance to make tings right, Cullen. If you miss dat chance, de gods will take your soul to the deepest reaches of Hell.”
Her words disturbed him deeply, so he resorted to making light of it to ease his discomfort. “Is that a threat or a promise, Marie?”
Her dark eyes bored into him, making his stomach shrivel with certainty. “Dat be a promise.”
Damn.
A searing pain pierced him, like the white-hot sting of a bullet, the heat of it burning through his veins. He tried to scream, but nothing came out as he toppled to the floor.
Marie took a battered tin cup, dipped it into the black liquid and poured the scalding mixture down his throat. “Till de day you have de locket freely given back to you, you will roam de Earth a vampire who feeds on life, but never knows it.”
Cullen choked against the vile warm liquid but could neither sputter nor spit it out.
* * *
The bitter memory made Cullen stop in his tracks before he forced himself to move forward. Just a block ahead lay the tree-lighting ceremony in the quaint downtown of New Harmony.
Four times he’d already been through this ridiculous process. First had been Charlotte, who’d chosen the richest man in town, only to find that once he died in the Civil War, she was a penniless Southern widow. Next had been her daughter, Anne, who’d married herself into high society and found her husband preferred his mistresses. Third had been Anne’s daughter, Catherine—Kate—whose flashy beau passed away in World War II, leaving her heartbroken. And last with Kate’s child, Tamara, who’d wanted her high school boyfriend so badly that she’d wished for him, gotten promptly pregnant and then found herself at his funeral after an unfortunate motorcycle accident had taken him before the baby was ever born. Each time it had turned out the same. While their chosen love died, he stayed on to serve them—opening doors to opportunities and giving them the benefit of a mysterious yet powerful benefactor, but never love. The connection between them perpetuated the cycle of loneliness, spreading it like a cancer he couldn’t control, which gave him little hope for this current case. Somehow these women had known the power of the locket and kept it from generation to generation.
He’d offered them all the same choice: the man of their dreams or immortality. All of them had picked the man, but not once had he been that man. It was a simple enough process to go out and glamour whatever beau had attracted their fancy. But it grew increasingly harder and harder for Cullen to stomach the loneliness. Any physical relationship he had was short and brief. He could make promises to no one because his existence teetered on uncertainty, tied to the locket and the women who owned it.
Most inconvenient and annoying.
He dug his frigid fingers deeper into the pockets of his coat as he scanned the gathering of locals. The mingle of their heartbeats was like the roar of the ocean.
Focus,
he told himself. One woman, her brown hair caught into a twist at the back of her head, her elegant profile lit by the sudden brightness emanating from the tall tree in the town square, caught his attention. From the angle it was hard to tell if it was Angelica Edwards, but the intense pull in his gut gave him the confirmation he needed.
Cullen edged his way toward her, trying not to attract undue attention. Several female gazes lingered on him, but Cullen didn’t return them. What he needed now was to gain Angelica’s interest...and her trust.