The Protectors Christmas Box Set (sexy paranormal romances) (2 page)

Personally, Newton thought there was something fishy about Hadrian. He didn’t like how the guy lurked around an official investigation, giving hints about a crime or murderer, but never any direct answers.

Was he connected with the mob? No. He never showed up to mob hits. He only appeared at crime scenes where something just felt...off. The kind that made Newton think thousands of spiders were crawling up and down the back of his neck. Crime scenes just like this one.

Sometimes Hadrian helped the police make an arrest. More often though, the case would be closed, labeled unsolved. What the hell was up with that? Why close an unsolved case, unless there was something else going on behind the scenes. It stank, and it made Newton edgy as hell to be in charge of yet another case where Hadrian was involved.

“How can you be so sure it was murder?” Newton demanded. “There’s not a damned mark on her that we can see. This could be a drug overdose. Or even a freaking heart attack.”

Hadrian tucked his hands into his coat pocket and dipped back under the bright yellow police line.

“She’s the first,” he warned as he walked away.

“Meaning what?” Newton shouted after the bastard. “That there will be others?”

Holly greeted the next day with a grumpy mood and chilly toes. The only silver lining she could find was that it had snowed last night. Just a light sprinkling.

The blasted furnace in the building was out. Again. Her refrigerator was empty. Because that encounter with the hunky man yesterday had scrambled her brains, she’d forgotten to stop at the grocery store.

She shook the empty coffee tin over a filter, desperately hoping there’d be enough loose crumbs to brew one watery cup. There wasn’t. There wasn’t even enough coffee grounds in the bottom of the tin to turn the hot water brown.

With a huff, she stuffed her arms into her coat and headed out into the cold. She needed her coffee.

She needed it now!

“Son-of-a—” The building’s self-locking front door clicked closed the moment she realized she’d left her keys at home. “Crud. Crud. Crud.”

It was going to be one of those days. The Christmas decorations in the grocery store looked obscenely cheery to her caffeine-deprived mind. She felt an urge to rip the poster of a happy elf off the wall above the coffee display and tear it to bits after searching her purse for a wallet that wasn’t there. She’d taken it out of her purse last night when she’d ordered a Christmas bouquet for Sister Margaret’s grave.

She cursed softly. It was six-thirty in the freaking morning. The building superintendent wouldn’t be available until nine. Which meant she’d be locked out and penniless and coffee-deprived for the next two and a half hours.

“Not much of a morning person, huh?” the mystery man from the other day said dryly. She whirled around. He was dressed all in black and looked well rested and heartbreakingly handsome. Her traitorous heart started thudding against her chest again, which only made her angrier. He didn’t seem to notice. In fact, he smiled as if her bad temper amused her. “Will you let me buy you that coffee now?”

Holly bit back a growl.

His smile grew. He held up his hands like he was surrendering. “If you need references, Josie—the grocery store owner—” He gave the gray-haired grandmotherly-looking woman working the register a nod. The woman’s cheeks turned pink as she smiled warmly and waved back. “—She can vouch for me. She’s known me all my life. Nearly raised me.”

Why he was acting so damned friendly? She wasn’t a stunning beauty. Holly knew that. Guys never approached her or asked her out without a prior introduction. And never, ever did a guy pursue her like this one was doing.

What the hell did he want from her?

She was still wearing her flannel pajamas under her heavy coat. Lack of sleep had left dark smudges under her eyes. She hadn’t run a comb through her hair. Instead, she’d finger combed it and pulled the long mousy brown strands back into a ponytail. There was nothing attractive about her this morning. And she was as grumpy as a bear.

He should be running the other direction, not grinning and looking as if her cranky mood was charming his socks off.

He held out his hand. “I’m Hadrian.”

Dumbstruck, she stared at his hand.

He took her hand and placed it in his. “Friendly little kitten, aren’t you?” He shook her hand. The comforting warmth she’d felt from him the night before seeped into her again, heating her from the inside out.

“Hadrian,” she said. It was too early to come up with anything coherent to say. “An unusual name.”

“The woman who named me was in love with Rome.”

“Your mother didn’t name you?” she asked.

“No. She didn’t have a chance.”

He was still holding her hand. How did she let that happen? Holly snatched her arm away from him and rubbed her warm, tingling fingers against her chilly coat.

“How about that coffee?” he said. “I know I sure could use a cup.”

Her practical self told her to say no. Walk away. She didn’t need him in her life. She didn’t need the heartache.

Her tongue was prepared to utter that simple little word. No. Her feet were ready to march out the store. She would have cursed her own bad luck with every sorry step, too.

But Lord, she wanted a cup of coffee and didn’t have the means to get one on her own. Not until after nine—a lifetime away.

So instead of doing the rational, safe thing—Holly nodded. Barely.

“Great!” He hooked his arm through hers. “There’s a fascinating little café down the block. They make the perfect chocolate croissant. The pastry is sweet and buttery. And the coffee...” He groaned with delight.

Before she knew what was happening he’d led her out of the store and back into the snow-coated city. “But back to the croissant. It melts in your mouth. And at the center is a chunk of the deepest, darkest chocolate you’ve ever tasted. It’s so rich and full of cocoa butter flavors. You’ll swoon.”

Her mouth watered in anticipation.

They went to a small, hole-in-the-wall café she’d never noticed before. It was close to her apartment building. She wasn’t a hermit. By all accounts she should have noticed the café.

“Is this place new?” The sign over the door looked ancient. A bell tinkled as Hadrian pushed the door open. A half dozen people were inside the long, narrow shop. Several were reading the newspaper. An older couple was playing chess. They all greeted Hadrian warmly, and by name, like he was part of their family.

“We’ve been in operation since 1903,” the man behind the counter said. He reminded Holly of a billygoat with his long, narrow face and white goatee. The threadbare sweatshirt the billygoat wore had the café name, The Oblique, printed across the chest. “The usual, Hadrian?”

“No, bring us two strong coffees and some of your chocolate croissants. I’ve been singing their praises all the way over.”

The curious gazes of the other customers followed Holly to the small table Hadrian had picked out near the back of the shop. No one was talking anymore. They all were watching her. Some had even turned in their chairs to do so.

It was creepy.

And why had she never noticed this café before?

“I-I-I—” There was something else, something familiar about this café. Something she needed to remember. The back of her neck prickled.

She started to back away from the table, inching her way toward the door.

“No, Holly. Stay.” There was a force—a compelling power—in Hadrian’s voice. Her feet felt rooted to the floor. She tried to lift a foot. It wouldn’t budge.

“I can’t stay here,” she whispered. “I can’t.”

She could feel the curious gazes burning into the back of her head. This was too much. She didn’t know what it was, but something wasn’t right. Something wasn’t...natural about this place.

“Pleeasse,” she cried. Tears sprang to her eyes. “I-I can’t stay here.”

“Very well.” Hadrian waved his hand in a broad arc. “Go.”

Her feet seemed to leap off the floor. She darted out the door and kept running until her lungs burned and her legs ached and she didn’t have the strength to run any more.

* * * *

“She’s obviously not ready.” Kara left the chessboard and went over to put her hand on Hadrian’s shoulder.

“I know,” Hadrian said. “But Stone says there isn’t time. We need her now.”

“What do you think?” she asked.

“It’s awake.”

Kara drew back. A few of the others started talking in nervous whispers.

Jake, the café manager, cursed. “It fed last night?”

Hadrian nodded. “It killed a young woman.”

Jake cursed again.

“She’s not ready,” Kara said again. “You can’t expect her to—”

“It doesn’t matter.” Hadrian pressed his lips together.

“She won’t be able to handle the truth.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he repeated.

“You’ll destroy her,” Kara warned. “And maybe even yourself.”

“It’s a risk I have to take.”

* * * *

Detective Newton cursed under his breath. Hadrian Graham had been right.

Again.

Damn it. Another morning. Another dead body.

Just once, just one freaking time couldn’t the bastard be wrong? Christmas was only a few days away. This new mysterious death had just pushed Newton’s chances of taking some time off to spend with his family that much farther away. His wife was going to be furious.

A man, about the same age as the woman they’d found yesterday morning, was lying dead in an alleyway. Like the woman, he looked healthy. Too healthy to be dead, damn it. What the hell was going on?

“I thought you could use this?” Hadrian held out a Styrofoam cup.

Newton was nearly grumpy enough to refuse. But his nose caught the rich scent of the brew. This was expensive coffee, not the watery junk they had down at the station. And it was bitterly cold out that morning. He’d be a fool to turn it down, even if it was a gift from that bastard Hadrian.

With a grimace, he wrapped his icy fingers around the piping hot cup and took a long sip.

“I don’t like this any more than you do,” Hadrian had the nerve to say.

“It’s Christmas, for Heaven’s sake. Time for families to be together. To be going to church. To be celebrating life.”

“I didn’t kill him,” Hadrian pointed out.

“I didn’t say you did.”

“If it makes you feel any better, the timing is inconvenient for me, too. Damned inconvenient.” Hadrian sounded miserable.

“The lab hasn’t been able to pin down a cause of death for the woman yet. Are you willing to drop any hints? Help us catch this monster so we can celebrate the holidays without this hanging over our heads? Without having to ruin yet another family’s lives?”

“I’m working on it.” Hadrian shook his head. “This poor guy, he won’t be the last.”

Holly spent an hour searching the entire length of her street for The Oblique Café. It bugged her that she’d never noticed the café before. She wanted to know why.

Besides, she couldn’t seem to get Hadrian out of her head. She’d thought if she could find the café and eat a chocolate croissant, she might be able to put the whole crazy thing behind her.

After walking past every shop on her street for the fourth time and coming up empty-handed, she knew the reason she couldn’t find the shop. It wasn’t there.

That’s impossible, of course. A café doesn’t appear and disappear at will.

Had he drugged her? Or used some form of hypnosis to get her to see something that wasn’t there?

Yes, that must have been what had happened. There was no café. Only a dangerous man with a dangerous smile.

Holly shook her head and started back toward her apartment.

Like the white rabbit in Alice in Wonderland, Holly spotted one of the women who’d been watching her so closely back at the café. The woman appeared to be filled to the brim with Christmas cheer as she carried several colorful shopping bags. Holly chased down the street after her.

She’d nearly caught up to the woman when she collided with her neighbor Karen Sookle, who was also weighed down by shopping bags.

“I heard from Priscilla that you’re going out of town this Christmas,” Karen said as juggled her bags.

Shoot, Holly had forgotten that Karen and Priscilla were such close friends. In the past, she’d always hinted that her imaginary family was coming into town. This was the first year she’d created an out-of-state holiday tradition. And she’d only told that particular tale to Priscilla.

Holly helped Karen with her bags, not sure what to say about her travel plans.

“When are you leaving? I’ll be glad to watch the apartment. Water the plants,” Karen said.

“Um...yes, about that...”

“I’m so pleased to hear you’ll be having a big Christmas at home. I was telling Priscilla just the other day how I worry about you. You never seem to go anywhere. You deserve a break, you know.”

“Do I?”

Karen wrapped her arm around Holly’s shoulder. “Of course you do, you silly goose. I bet your family is humming with excitement, too. Priscilla told me how you’re related to Burl Ives. What wonderful childhood memories you must have!”

“Um...yes.” She closed her eyes. The lovely Christmas scene she’d painted for Priscilla the other day sprang to life in her mind’s eye. It was something she wanted with all her heart and soul. And like Karen said, she deserved it. Didn’t she?

“Yes,” she said and felt the glow of Christmas pleasures grow inside her. “Yes, it is going to be wonderful. Mom bakes up a storm, you know. Any kind of cookie you could imagine, she bakes it. And my aunt Mavis, she creates the most impressive gingerbread houses. One year, she made a replica of Kensington Palace, complete with candied glass windows.”

“Wow,” Karen breathed. “All that? You’re so lucky. It’s just Mom and me. And she complains the whole time. I’m not as young as I used to be, she says. And wouldn’t you know her friend’s daughter recently married a doctor? The bitch. My mom spent all Thanksgiving telling me how it was my duty to marry and marry rich. Bragging rights. That’s all she cares about. Not my happiness. Not that I’m doing great in my career. She just wants to tell her friends that her daughter landed a doctor, too.”