Unholy Nights: A Twisted Christmas Anthology (17 page)

Also, as cold and unwelcoming as the prospect seemed right now, out here in the middle of the dreary Atlantic, Nantucket
was
a new ticket for her to punch on her travels across the globe. She might as well enjoy it.

"The moon will be full tonight," Brenna said. "Are you planning to toss your love charm into the sea?"

"God, no," Dakota answered. "I'm not going to set the spell into the Atlantic Ocean. I might end up with some salt-encrusted whaler from this barren rock of an island that we're heading for."

Brenna laughed. "I think the whalers are gone. They're either townies or hedge fund guys on Nantucket in this century."

"Ugh." Dakota shuddered. "I'm picturing hedgehogs now, and it's enough to unsettle my stomach."

"Home town boys are the best, anyway," Brenna said, with a quick wink at Joe. He squeezed her shoulders, and gave her a smoldering look that almost visibly heated the air between them.

Dakota refused to acknowledge the pang of loneliness trying to stab her.

"I don't have a home town," she said. That was a slight exaggeration, but she was an Air Force kid who'd lived in more places than she could count. "So no home town boys for me."

When Brenna had called her last night, all excited because she'd gotten the silver bean that was necessary to make the love charm, Dakota had been thinking of enticing someone wild and dangerous, someone who'd be happy to share her rootless existence until the attraction burned out. She couldn't quite picture the guy, but she wasn't sure she believed in the love charm anyway, so it didn't matter.

A home town boy was fine for Brenna with her cozy, cute appeal.

But Dakota was tall and thin, with legs that were "a yard more than she needed", according to her brother, the cocky Air Force pilot. The one good thing about her height was that she could wear anything and look okay.

She could lounge on a golden beach in a string bikini on Tahiti and look hot. Or she could bundle herself into a sleek snowsuit in the Swiss Alps and draw eyes streaking down a pristine white ski slope.

Either way, she was a twenty-first century woman, unbound by convention, unhampered by expectations.

If she was a bit lonely at times, well, everything had its price. In the meantime, she was free to flutter on the surface of life like a jeweled hummingbird, sipping at its sweetness, never halting in her frenzy to feed the need for something new.

She worked as a flight attendant. The glamour, if it had ever existed, had long been wrung out of the job by bone-thin margins in the industry. She'd only gotten the position at an international carrier in the first place because her father pulled strings with his Air Force cronies. She was comfortable in the world of flight, but the job itself was grueling and unrewarding.

The opportunities for travel were, however, exciting and varied. Unlike this current trip.

Sipping her hot chocolate, she strolled over to lean on the railing and gaze into the water. Her red cape billowed around her in the constant wind, the only spot of color in this gray world. Angry waves slapped the side of the boat, cresting with whitecaps and bouncing the large ferry around. The turbulence didn't bother her, although she hoped they didn't have trouble returning tonight as they'd planned. She didn't know why she'd let Brenna talk her into this expedition because she had no taste for conservative, hidebound customs.

The view currently filling her vision confirmed her worst fears. A row of austere, gray-shingled, wooden houses lined the short pier as the ferry approached Nantucket harbor. She recognized the look as classic, moneyed New England fantasy, but her tastes leaned more to colorful, café-lined village squares lazing under a summer sun.

Here on Nantucket, the only laziness tolerated appeared to be the flakes of snow whirling around as if undecided where to settle. Dakota had to admit, the glistening white crystals lent a magical air to the scene as she, Brenna and Joe stood at the railing on the deck.

She reached for her love charm as her cape blew in a sudden gust of wind. For some reason, it was calling to her, like true north would call for the Captain's compass needle. She had her own magic. She didn't need this packet of red roses crushed into powder, along with the silver bean, a snip of her black hair, and her favorite perfume.

Her fingers settled on the plump silk charm, caressing it as a burst of song flowed down the street.
Oh, Come All Ye Faithful
. A group of festively dressed adults was singing in beautiful harmony, their crisp red music folders gleaming through the softly falling snow.

Her eyes fell on a tall man standing in the back, his handsome face cheerful and ruddy with cold. Was that a bowler hat he was wearing? Yes, of course. A second glance told her all of the singers were dressed in Victorian costume, the ladies in long dresses, capes, and fanciful bonnets, the men in black formal wear with wool coats and top hats.

She felt an urge to celebrate the charming moment, with the beautiful melody sparkling through the snow, the happy faces lifted in welcome, and the colorful costumes an antidote to the dreary ocean crossing.

The love charm warmed her hand, as if it were coming to life. She ignored the fancy. This was her last chance to cast the charm on this trip. They'd be getting off the ship in seconds. But she had plans to weave her magic at a carefully chosen spot. Maybe on the French Riviera. Or the Italian. Or the Greek islands. She could think of several exotic and wonderful spots.

Not
this rocky outpost in a cold ocean.

She heard her Granny's voice speak clearly in her mind, even though Granny had been gone for ten years.
If we have any ability as witches, it's our willingness to set things in motion, to disturb the status quo if necessary. Whether you want to heal a child in days long gone, or make a positive change in your own life today, you must be willing to take action.

Dakota's hand came out of her pocket in a slow-moving arc and she watched in amazement as the love charm flew over the deck railing.

Was it impulse that motivated her, or something else? She'd never know, but as she watched the red silk gleam briefly against the gray sea, and then disappear, she felt no regret. Of course, regret was not an emotion she ever indulged in, but still—calmness flooded her and she heard her grandmother speak from beyond the grave. "Well done, Dakota."

"Oh, come, all ye—" The man in the bowler hat had his eyes fixed on her. Dakota shivered. She'd better not make a wish because it might fix on him, and she'd be in real trouble. Despite his formal, old-fashioned clothes, and his friendly, open expression – the opposite of what she normally was attracted to – the man was strangely appealing to her. Someone who, in different circumstances, she might want to get to know. In fact, before she could stop herself, she acknowledged the fact that she'd like to spend one night with him.

"You changed your mind?" Brenna spoke beside her.

"Grandma always told me to follow my instincts." Dakota sighed. "Of course, that advice has gotten me into trouble more than once."

"Always listen to grandma."

"Yeah, well, she's gone, so it's your job now to make sure I don't speak to any man unless he's a) single and b) hotter than the devil."

Brenna laughed. "Oh, that's not a small job. Especially when a Mr. Right kind of guy has been watching you for the past five minutes."

Dakota didn't look up. The singer she'd noticed was exactly what she didn't want in a man. Clearly, he was devoted to old customs, hidebound, and traditional – a Victorian costume? Really? But, she had to admit, a very hot version of exactly what she didn't want.

She strolled off the ferry with her friends to see golden lights twinkling through snow dusted trees in an enchanting Christmas wonderland. Perfectly shaped evergreen trees decorated with colorful ornaments marched down the sidewalk. The crowd all wore some version of red and Dakota was glad she had her red cape.

"Let's go this way," Joe said, gesturing to the left. "I could use a hot toddy." The wind gusted behind them, as if urging them on their way.

"Wait!" They all turned back to see the tall man who'd been watching Dakota break away from the group and jog over. He bent his warm, toffee colored eyes on Dakota. "What's your name?"

"Dakota," she said, leaving off her last name by habit. With her transitory lifestyle, last names really weren't necessary.

The man pulled off his leather glove and stuck out his hand. He tugged on her glove and before she knew what was happening, he was holding her bare hand in his. Her ungloved hand was the only warm part about her.

"I'm Cabot Saltonstall," he said. "Where can I find you when I finish up with the chorus?"

Dakota looked around. She had no idea where they were going. "Come with us now," she said.  "I think we're going for a drink." She didn't want to have to let go of his hand, which was clasping hers with such warm security.

"Cabot!" The other members of the singing group were laughing and beckoning to him. "Come on. You can chase women later."

Cabot shook his head at Dakota. "I have to get back. I'm their baritone."

"Oh, is that a paid gig?"

He looked surprised. "Of course not. We do it for fun."

"Then why can't you leave?" She could tell he was interested and she thought he might, despite his formality, be a fun addition to their group. If nothing else, he'd save her from being a third wheel to Joe and Brenna.

His eyes widened a little. "I have an obligation to them—"

"We're heading to Brotherhood of Thieves," Joe interjected. "You can probably find us there when you're done."

"Great!" Cabot raised her hand to his lips, pressed a quick kiss to her palm and then, with a cheerful wave, he jogged back to his group.

"Are you sure you didn't make a wish on the love charm?" Brenna asked, giggling. "The man is smitten."

"Don't be silly. He doesn't even know me." Dakota curled her hand around the kiss, enjoying the ribbon of pleasure unfurling within her. The man might look like a Wall Street banker with his tailored black wool overcoat, white shirt and red scarf, but he knew how to kiss like a wicked adventurer.

Chapter 2

The crowd at the Brotherhood was well-dressed and drunk. Drunk not only on booze, but also on the smug pleasure of being part of a popular scene on this exclusive island. The downstairs bar, with its old exposed brick walls, wooden beams and rustic atmosphere was perfect for allowing wealthy East Coast wheelers and dealers to pretend they were regular folks even while drinking their $15 craft beers.

But Dakota was always up for trying something new, and the beer was delicious. Her friends were fun to be with, and a secret pleasure warmed her as she wondered if the intriguing Cabot would actually appear.

She didn't have long to wonder.

The door opened to admit another cold gust of winter and a chorus of welcomes rose to meet the tall form of Cabot Saltonstall. Dakota watched as he greeted several patrons, exchanging handshakes and quips even as he steadily made his way toward her table.

"I'm glad you're still here." He touched her shoulder and smiled at her. Then he extended his hand to Brenna, introduced himself, and repeated the maneuver with Joe. Very smooth.

"What would you like to drink?" Joe asked. "We're conducting our own taste test." He waved to the bottles of beer.

"Can't stay, but thanks," Cabot said. "We're having a short break and I need to get back. I came in to invite you all to a party tonight." He grinned. "All the fun you can stand at my own island homestead."

Disappointment winged through Dakota. "I'm so sorry," she said. "We came on a day trip. We'll be returning to Hyannis tonight."

"Not tonight." Cabot said. "Haven't you heard that ferry service has been suspended?"

Joe was the first to recover. "Has the weather gotten worse?"

"Blowing up a pretty good gale," Cabot said. "But don't worry about it. You're all welcome to stay at my home tonight." His gaze rested on Dakota, warming her.

"Thank you for the offer," Brenna said politely. "But we couldn't impose." She put her hand over Joe's on the table. "We'd better go back to the dock and check with the Steamship Authority and see what we can do."

Cabot shook his head. "Save yourself the walk. The ferry is already closed down. You must have had a rough ride on the way over."

A thrill of excitement snaked through Dakota. She liked anything unexpected. Which didn't mean she was going to jump into bed with Cabot, as appealing as he was. She looked at Brenna. "What we'd better do is look for a hotel." Not that she could afford a hotel here. The island was super-expensive, but hopefully they might find something reasonable as this was surely the off-season.

Cabot's gaze met hers briefly. "No strings attached to my offer," he said. "I hope you'll all at least come for the party."

Joe stood up. "Thanks for the invitation. Ladies?"

"Sounds like fun," Brenna said.

"Sure." Dakota had been in from the beginning.

"Who has a phone where I can write my address? I'm out on the island. You'll have to take a cab."

They exchanged information and then he strode out, calling goodbyes to what seemed like everyone in the bar.

Dakota and Joe and Brenna embarked on a fruitless search for a hotel. Apparently, a lot of people who'd come over for the day had found themselves stranded.

"I wonder what size house this Cabot guy has," Joe finally said.

Chapter 3

The door to a sprawling, white painted, multi-gabled mansion stood wide open as Dakota, Brenna and Joe got out of a cab. A multitude of people were swarming inside.

"Quite a party," Joe said.

"Quite a house." Brenna lifted her face in awe.

No, this wasn't a house, Dakota realized. It was a home. Lights gleamed from every window, and decorated several trees on the exterior of the property. Two miniature Christmas trees stood on either side of the front steps, and an enormous wreath, laden with holly and red velvet bows graced the front door.

"So glad you could make it!" Cabot leaned down to kiss both women on their cheeks, and then he pumped Joe's hand. "I'm sure you couldn't find a hotel room, so I've made arrangements for all of you here."