Andrew walked in, his arms packed with presents. Our eyes connected, and he wasn’t happy. Before I knew it, both Andrew and Ainsley were bombarding me with questions.
“Wait, where were you last night?” I asked Andrew.
He crossed his arms. “You were gone when I finished my sweep. Your boyfriend didn’t tell you I stopped by?”
Ainsley’s glasses perched on his wide nose as he looked down through them at me. “I knew it. Damn it, Anya. No good can come of this.”
“This is what I want.” I spoke softly. “It will happen with or without your support.”
“Well, Anya has spoken. If he’s anything like his brother, it won’t last long.” Andrew smirked and took a sip of his drink.
I rocked back eyeing him, the corners of my lips quirking. I knew there were things he wasn’t allowed to share, but not telling me what he knew about Ferric hurt.
“You knew and you didn’t tell me?” I couldn’t believe him. There was no good reason to keep this from me.
Andrew grabbed my hands and brought them to his lips. “Of course, I did. I would have told you if I’d thought it important. I didn’t.”
Ferric and Diego walked through the door. I pulled my hands from Andrew and tucked my loose curl behind my ear.
“We’ll talk later.” I looked to Andrew and Ainsley. I whispered and pointed to Andrew. “Diego is a Vampire. Don’t think about touching him.”
I turned and walked away. Ferric was in the corner, watching everyone. His creamed colored sweater enhanced his dark eyes and hair, making my heart skip a beat. I leaned into him and laced my hand in his.
“Will he be okay?” I asked.
“He fed. As long as you keep your hold on him, he will be fine.”
“I want to introduce you to my friends.” I tugged at him, dropping my gaze to our entwined hands.
Ferric stopped unsure. “You aren’t scared I’ll try to lure them to the dark side?”
I bit my lip. “Will you?”
“If they are important to you. Then no. Do you trust me?” His gazed into my eyes.
“I trust you. I have to if we will do this.” Ferric pulled me to him; I stood on my tippy toes. Our lips pressed, and I didn’t care who saw.
“Time to open presents!” Neesy said in her singsong voice. She stumbled into me. “Have you seen Diego? That boy is lookin’ fine.” She spoke louder than needed.
“Always after the bad boys.” I laughed and handed presents to her and her girls. I didn’t have to worry about Neesy and Diego; once her hangover hit, she’d forget all about him. Besides, she said she didn’t have time to date with her girls. He had other things on his mind at the moment.
I turned to grab another present and noticed Ferric was gone. Maybe he had to use the bathroom. Did Imps even do that? I reached into my bag and handed out the presents, finally coming to Diego’s. Damn it, it would just be insulting now.
Diego reached his hand out. I mouthed I’m sorry. He opened the box and looked up.
“It’s exquisite.” He quickly closed the lid and handed it back. “Will you keep it for me?”
“Of course.” I knew I’d have it indefinitely. I tucked it back into my bag.
Diego leaned close. “Anya, you gave me the best gift of all. My life. Well, technically not life, but you know.”
I nodded and pulled him into a hug. I did know.
Ferric leaned down, kissing my cheek from behind me, making me jump. “I have your present,” he whispered in my ear.
“You didn’t have to…” I turned; Ferric placed a long-haired mutt in my arms.
What does a Hellbound boyfriend get his girlfriend for Christmas?
“A dog?” I hadn’t had a pet in… well, a very very long time.
He shrugged. “You like saving things, and she needed saving. I couldn’t think of a better match, and she is already potty trained.”
She was a medium-sized blonde. I couldn’t even tell what she was a mix of, but I assumed there was some golden retriever in there somewhere. She nuzzled under my neck and wagged her tail. She seemed happy with the arrangement.
I scratched her head. “What’s her name?” I reached for the tag, and my heart stopped. On her tag was a picture of the Golden Spiral of Life. It was a recurring theme in my home, the Golden Ratio. It was part of the Alchemist’s code. The fact that Ferric had taken notice warmed my heart. He understood me.
“I call her Atman.” For Soul.
“I love her.” I kissed him and wrapped my arm around his waist.
“I want to say goodbye to Andrew before we leave.” I handed Atman back to Ferric and found Andrew eyeing Diego.
I punched his arm. “Leave him alone. I won’t let him hurt anyone.”
Andrew sighed. “He’s a Vampire, that’s what he does. He’s a dominion of Hell, Anya, but I guess with your present company, that no longer bothers you.”
I ignored him. “I have something for you.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out the still-cold oyster, handing it to him.
A small smile played on his face; he opened it and pulled out the large black pearl. “It’s beautiful. Much prettier than that sweater.”
“Do you forgive me?”
“I was never mad at you, Anya. I love you and worry that’s all.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small pebble. The pebble was perfectly formed.
“It came from the Dvina Bay.” My homeland in Russia.
“It’s perfect.” I reached up and kissed his check.
“Want to meet up for breakfast tomorrow?”
“Let’s do dinner.”
Andrew kissed my forehead. “Okay. Merry Christmas, Anya.”
I waved my good-byes. Ferric and I made our way out the door, with Diego falling behind.
“So Andrew gets two presents?” he asked, kissing my neck.
“Jealous?”
He smiled. “A little.”
“Will you stay with me tonight?” I asked, implying all that came with it.
He arched his brow. “Yes.”
Merry Christmas to me.
About Mia
Urban fantasy and paranormal romance author Mia Ellas was always accused of living in her own world so she decided to put it to paper. She loves things that go bump in the night so she decided to share her love with her readers.
She resides in Florida with her husband and girls. When she isn't writing she's enjoying the beach, taking cardio kickboxing, or practicing martial arts.
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Stay Tuned for More Ferric and Anya in Alchemist Magick – The Edge of Eden.
Don’t Let Go by J. M. Taylor
Don’t Let Go Description
A new town, a new school, and a new boyfriend make for a promising holiday season. But this Christmas Eve, there will be no Peace on Earth for Marianne Carter.
What she left behind on old Ingram Road is sure to haunt her forever.
Don’t Let Go
“Can I get you something to drink?” Officer Tanner asked. “We have some hot chocolate left from the holiday party. Would you like some?”
The interview room was stark, and the chairs were hard and cold. Their metal legs screeched across the floor every time Officer Tanner moved, and he was young and a bit fidgety, so he moved a lot, and the sound clawed beneath Marianne’s skin.
Hot chocolate sounded good though, an appropriate drink for Christmas Eve, something warm to soothe her throat still raw from screaming, but the thought of anything in her stomach made her feel sick.
Officer Tanner saw the look on her face and in anticipation moved quickly to slide the small office trashcan beside her just in time. She wrenched and heaved into it, but nothing more than a little bile was left in her stomach. She must have thrown up in the bushes outside of David’s house a dozen times. She was starting to feel weak.
Officer Tanner handed her a napkin
from beneath his Styrofoam cup of coffee. Marianne wiped her mouth, surprised to see the smear of plum-colored lipstick she thought had long worn off. She saw the blood on her hands too and tried to wipe them clean, but no matter how hard she tried, it wouldn’t come off.
“Is there something I can do to help?” Officer Tanner asked, watching her feverishly drag the napkin back and forth over her skin.
Marianne just shook her head, placed the wadded napkin on the table, and pulled the scratchy gray blanket back up around her shoulders. Her hair was still wet from the snow, and the heat coming from the slightly buzzing electric radiator in the corner wasn’t enough to fill the room.
The door flung open and an older woman with silver hair styled and set like any respectable grandmother entered wearing a black pantsuit and sensible shoes. Her red overcoat was too bright for her serious demeanor. Perhaps she had once been happy and lighthearted enough to splurge on a holiday-colored coat with its own plaid scarf attached, but now her face bore evidence of many worrisome years, and her shoulders rounded from the weight of responsibility. Freshly fallen snow quickly melted deep red spots into the fabric.
To Marianne, it looked like fresh blood.
“Help them,” she uttered the words so quietly the officers weren’t sure what they had heard. She pointed a shaky finger at the wet spots on the woman’s coat, then upon seeing the dried blood on her own hand again, tucked it back under the blanket.
Officer Tanner motioned for the woman in red to walk back into the hallway with him, only partially closing the door behind them. It was enough for Marianne to hear everything he said.
“We haven’t been able to get her to talk. Those are the first words we’ve heard from her so far tonight. If Mr. Donahue hadn’t told us who she was when he brought her in, we wouldn’t know anything about her. She just moved here with her parents and two younger brothers about four months ago. We’ve been trying to reach her parents, but no one’s home.”
“You called, right? Did you try sending someone over there?”
“We did. Two uniforms on patrol said there’s no car in the driveway at her house and no answer at the door. Looks like no one is home. Just give the word, and we can have them enter and search the place.”
The woman in red thought about that for a moment. “No, tell them to stay put. Chances are the family went out somewhere for Christmas Eve, maybe to a midnight service or something. I’ll talk to the girl and see what I can find out. Do you know where Mr. Donahue picked her up?”
“Out on old Ingram Road.”
The woman sighed deeply and muttered, “Oh, no. It can’t be – not after all these years.”
“Seems like you already know something about this,” Officer Tanner said, but when the woman didn’t fill the void with any further explanation, he gave up. “I guess that’s why you’re the detective.”
She didn’t acknowledge his attempt to prod her for information. Instead, she gave orders. “Follow up with the officers at the Carter’s residence and call Mr. Donahue. Ask him if he knows anything else that might help us, like where the Carters go to church or volunteer or whether they have any other family nearby. Anything that might help us locate them.
“Should I contact someone from Social Services?” Officer Tanner asked.
The older woman handed him a card. “Call her and see if she can come out tonight. If so, send a uniform to get her. And don’t go far. I might need you again.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Officer Tanner said.
The door opened again but slowly this time, and the old gray-haired woman in the bright red coat forced a smile as she entered, an attempt no doubt to offer comfort and show compassion.
“You must be Marianne Carter,” she said, slipping into the chair across the table from the visibly shaken girl. “I’m Detective Bishop. If it’s alright with you, I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
Marianne nodded but the thought of talking made her cry again. She had already cried so much that night that her eyes burned, and her lips felt chapped.
Detective Bishop looked in the coffee cup Officer Tanner had left behind and frowned. “It’s cold and it stinks of stale, cheap coffee,” she said. “Let’s get some water, shall we?”
She waved two fingers at the large mirror on the wall beside them – the looking glass that allowed people to watch them from the other side. Marianne had wondered if anyone might be watching, and her suspicions were confirmed when a young, plain-clothed detective with a badge on his belt walked into the room with two cups of water. He took the old coffee cup from Detective Bishop’s hand and disappeared behind the closed door again.
“Drink this. It will help,” Detective Bishop told her.
Marianne sipped slowly and tried to focus on what Detective Bishop was asking her rather than the loud gulping sound her sore throat was making. She wondered what the woman must think of all the dried blood.
“Tell me, Marianne, what were you doing out on Ingram Road?” She skimmed the notes Officer Tanner had jotted down on a standard office yellow notepad. “That’s a little far from where you live, isn’t it? Across town, right?”
Marianne nodded.
“It gets pretty dark down that old road at night. There aren’t any streetlights out that way, not anymore, and all but one of the old houses have been torn down. I went out there years ago, on this very night as a matter of fact. I seem to recall not being able to get a signal on my cell phone. Of course, that may have changed now. Phones are newer and more cell towers allow for better service than they did twenty years ago.” She muttered an apology for straying off topic but then said, “Actually, let’s start with that. Do you have a cell phone?”
Marianne nodded and struggled to find her voice. “Yes, but I lost it.”
“Alright, we are getting somewhere now. Where did you lose your phone? Was it out on Ingram Road?”
“I dropped it. I dropped it outside of his house when I tried to call the police.” Marianne’s bottom lip started to tremble, and she could feel the tears welling up inside again. She choked them back as hard as she could but eventually gave way to them as she buried her face in her hands.
Detective Bishop leaned over and patted her arm. Then she opened the large black leather bag she had placed on the floor beside her chair and dug around until she found a package of travel tissues. She handed them all to Marianne. “You keep them, my dear. Keep the whole thing. I have more in here if we need them.”
Marianne thanked her through muffled tears and tried to wipe her eyes and nose clean.
“Now then,” Detective Bishop said, “tell me everything. Start from the beginning.”
“I think David is dead. They all are. You need to send someone right away!” Marianne didn’t know why she hadn’t blurted that out earlier. What if David had still been alive when she left? What if he was dead now because she hadn’t been able to speak about what had happened? She would never be able to forgive herself.
“Try to calm down. Don’t get yourself all worked up. Where would you like for me to send someone? To David’s house? Does this David live at the end of Ingram Road?”
“Yes, he does. Yes. Please go now.” Marianne started to sob uncontrollably, dragging the wet tissue across her face with shaking hands.
Detective Bishop waved at the mirror again. When the younger detective emerged this time, she whispered something to him at the door before closing it and sitting back down. “It’s going to be okay, love. We are going to take care of everything. Don’t you worry. What I want you to do is tell me what happened. This time, please start from the very beginning. When did you first meet David? Tell me about that. Do you go to school with him?”
“Yes. We go to Kingston High School. We don’t have any classes together, but he waits for me after school and walks with me to my car or sometimes we just hang out.”
“David sounds like a nice young man. Why don’t you tell me more about him? When was the first time the two of you met?”
&
nbsp; Marianne remembered it well.
It was a Friday night in October. The library where she volunteered was empty, except for the elderly librarian Mrs. Dower who was sitting at the front desk going through the returns. Marianne was restocking books back in the reference room – an older section of the library that required softer lighting than the standard glaring florescent lights. She liked it best in this room. The solitude was pleasing and the low lights comforting, especially at night. She pushed her cart down the aisles and flicked the light switches off after each completed section.
That is when she first saw David, standing in the dimly lit reference room, looking through an old book with a faded blue hardback cover.
“You shouldn’t still be here,” she said to him. “We’re closed now.”
“I thought I had a little more time,” he said, not looking up from his book.
“Well, you don’t. We closed a few minutes ago. Didn’t you hear the announcement?”
He shook his head and looked up at her, his dark eyes peering through long layers of blonde hair. “I haven’t seen you here before. Are you new?”
“I started in September,” she tried not to sound too excited about speaking to someone her age – especially a cute guy. She was in her senior year of high school, but it was her first year in Virginia Beach. Her father had been transferred to Naval Air Station Oceana just before the school year started. She hadn’t wanted to leave Germany. She had liked it there, liked her friends on the base. She didn’t know anyone in this area and having to attend her last year of high school so far away from her friends seemed unusually cruel. Everyone already had all the friends they needed, and they were looking forward to enjoying every moment of their senior year with each other. She was just one of the students who always seemed to come and go through the revolving military door. Why even bother getting to know someone like her so late in the game?
Wicked Winters Page 18