A Vampire's Fallen Christmas Star (Vampires On Holiday #2)

by M. L. Guida

  She avoided his gaze. “How are you feeling?”

  Obviously, she wasn’t going to answer, and he was too tired to play the Sherlock Homes game of hunting for clues to her identity, no matter how beautiful she might be. His stomach growled. “Hungry.” Eggs. He needed eggs to beat the hangover. If only he could figure out how he’d gotten here and how he would get to the Butterhorn Bakery Cafe for their platter of eggs and corned beef and hash. He’d feel better. Whole again. Had he driven here? God, he hoped his motorcycle was parked outside. “I’m at your home?”

  “Aye,” Eleanor said. “You’re in one of my spare bedrooms.”

  “And?”

  “It’s on the bike path.”

  “What bike path? You mean Frisco?”

  “My house is close to the community church on the path.” She put the comb down and stood.

  He knew those houses—big, large, mansions. The woman must have money, mountains of it.

  Her silky red robe outlined her curves, hiding a lacy nightgown beneath. She was curvy and full, renaissance beautiful, as if she’d stepped out one of Botticelli’s paintings.

  He ran his hand through his hair. “Last night was great.” At least, he hoped it was. By her frowning face, it must not have been for her. God, had he passed out in her bed without touching her? He must have been Olympic wasted. “I gotta get going, Eleanor.” There, he’d said her name. At least, he’d done one thing right. “Where are my clothes?”

  Her cheeks reddened, and she lowered her gaze, her fingers pulling on the hairs caught in the brush. “They were bloody. I put them in the washer.”

  “They were bloody?” At the word blood, the hunger pangs grew worse, and an unbearable thirst consumed him.

  She raised her head and licked her pinched lips. “Hungry?”

  “No,” he lied. “I gotta go. Are my clothes dry?”

  “They’re still drying.”

  “Oh,” he said, trying to hide the disappointment. “I rode my bike here?”

  “No, I carried you.”

  He snorted. He was twice her size. There was no way she could carry him from a car, through the house, and into this bed. Desmond must have helped. “Why didn’t you leave me passed-out in the car?”

  “Jayden, you really donna remember last night? You fell down the mountain and impaled yourself on a rotting tree. Stabbed through the heart. You were dying. I gave you a chance for an immortal life.”

  “Yeah, right.” Pain pounded harder and harder between his temples as images from the night before popped into his head. Jacob. The dark figure. The pain. Blood, lots of blood. No. The dream wasn’t real. He needed to get out of here. Clothes, or no clothes. The woman was unhinged. Sexy, but crazy.

  “You donna believe me, do you?”

  “No. I. Don’t.” He enunciated each word to not only convince her but also to erase the doubt slipping into his fuzzy brain.

  “Let me show you.” Suddenly, she moved. A blur whizzed across the room, faster than the Flash. His mind whirled. She stood next to his bed, and he jumped like a startled grasshopper. Shit, he hadn’t even seen her bare feet touch the hardwood floor.

  “How in the hell did you do that?”

  “I told you last night,” she said, her voice slow and drawling. “I’m a vampire.”

  “Bullshit.” He edged across the silky sheets to the other side of the bed. She flashed again and was on the other side of him. He jumped higher and banged his head on the headboard. “Stop doing that.”

  “I am a vampire,” she said. “And now you are too.”

  He rubbed his throbbing head and glared at Twilight’s Bella-wanna-be. “You’re crazy. Seen one too many vampire movies.”

  She arched a thin eyebrow. “You think so?”

  He was done playing her damn game, no matter how beautiful she was. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Tell me where the clothes dryer is so I can get the fuck out of here.”

  “I’m afraid you’re much too dangerous to let go.”

  “Excuse me? I’m dangerous?”

  “Aye,” she said. “Let me show you.” She opened her mouth and revealed two long incisors.

  Was she for real? His heart skipped a beat. He whipped off the heavy red quilt to bolt across the floor to the oak double doors.

  She bit into her wrist, and blood dripped on her arm. “Here,” she said.

  The smell of fresh blood drew his eyes to her wrist, and his hunger inflamed. Before he knew what was happening, he’d seized her wrist and pressed it to his mouth, sucking and licking hard. Forget the damn eggs. Blood soothed the hangover. Sweet. Luscious. Tangy. He couldn’t get enough. Strength and power swept over him. He felt stronger than Superman.

  “Enough,” she said.

  He fought the compelling voice and greedily sucked harder. She grabbed his hair and yanked. He winced and released her wrist.

  She leaned over him. “See, you’re much too dangerous. If you were to go back to your cabin, you’d kill your mother. Is that what you want to happen?”

  Fear seeped into the marrow of his bones. How did she know he was staying with his mother? Had he blabbed in a drunken coma? Was his mother in danger? “If you go near her, I swear I’ll kill you.”

  She studied him and wiped her finger under his chin, turning her fingertip bright red. Blood coated it and he followed her hand as if he were Pavlov’s dog, anxious for a treat. “I’m not the one she has to fear. I can control my hunger.” She released him. “Donna believe me? Look at yourself. You’ve got a face that would drive rats from a barn.”

  Jayden looked at his chest. Crimson dripped from his chin and splashed onto his chest as if someone had splattered paint onto his skin. Red stained his fingernails and drenched his fingers and palms. He shook and his teeth chattered. What had he done?

  “I’m fine, if you’re wondering. However, I donna think your mother would fare well.”

  “I’d never hurt my mother.” His gaze was drawn to Eleanor’s wrist. He licked his lips, tasting blood. He didn’t want to admit it, but he wanted more. He took a step toward her.

  She held up her palm. “You’ll not touch me unless I give you permission.”

  As if he’d run into a brick wall, he couldn’t move. The power came from her. He bristled at his weakness. “Did I say I wanted to touch you, lady?”

  She flipped her hand at his remark. “You crave my blood. New vampires always do.”

  Her voice was like a drug dealer’s toying with a strung-out junkie. God, was he now Jacob?

  A vampire? Could this be true? He glanced at the tri-fold mirror. One way to find out. Not caring if he was naked, he brushed past her and rushed to the mirror. He put his shaking hands on the vanity and hissed. The same reflection he’d stared out for the past thirty years was gone. He gripped the vanity tighter and lowered his head. “This can’t be happening.”

  “I know ’tis hard to accept.”

  “Here.” She held out a large, black fluffy towel.

  Black linen? Too gothic. Too much Anne Rice nostalgia. “I don’t need it.”

  “You’re a bloody mess. Trust me.” She pressed the downy cloth against his chest. “Here. Take it.”

  He grabbed the towel. His fingers brushed against hers, and she flinched as if she had touched a hot stove.

  The lady was too much. He marched into the bathroom, slammed the door shut, and leaned against it. The large glass shower with black marble walls had a built-in bench and was large enough for two. He headed to the double sink vanity and turned on the silver faucet. He washed his hands, turning the clear water red. He glanced up at the mirror and grimaced. Shit, still no reflection. Only steam coated the glass. He’d never thought of himself as a vain person, but he missed his reflection. It meant he was human. Sane.

  He turned off the faucet and turned on the shower. Before he stepped inside, he waited for steam to emit. Water pulsated onto his back, massaging away his aches and pains. He scrubbed his body and tried to ignore the red stream sw
irling around in the drain. Her blood. Blood he had gulped as if he were a man dying of thirst.

  Within minutes, he’d washed his hair and body. Dripping wet, he stepped out and dried himself. Not having any clothes, he grabbed a red towel off a wooden shelf and wrapped it around his waist. He combed his fingers through his hair. It must be a trick. No way could he be a vampire. He couldn’t believe it. Wouldn’t believe it.

  He put his hand on the doorknob, not sure what he should do. He gritted his teeth. He wasn’t a coward and refused to hide in the steamy bathroom all day.

  He opened the door to the bedroom. Eleanor was gone. His own clothes were laid out on the made bed. Without hesitation, he rushed to the bed and threw on his pants, surprised to find that the hole in his sweater had been stitched up. At last, something familiar.

  A cordless phone was on the nightstand next to the rose-colored gas lamp. He grabbed it and dialed his mother’s number.

  “Hello? Jayden?” Fear dripped from his mother’s strained voice.

  “I’m all right, Mom,” he lied.

  “Where are you? I was so worried. When you didn’t come last night and have been gone all day, I was about ready to call the police. Don’t do this to me.”

  He winced. “I’ll be home soon.”

  “Hurry. I’m beside myself with worry.”

  God, he wished she’d be stronger, like she used to be when his father was alive, but losing both a son and a husband in one year had chiseled away her fortitude. “I will. I promise.”

  “No, you wonna,” Eleanor said.

  Jayden jerked and slammed his back into the dresser. “Stop that,” he growled.

  “Excuse me? Jayden, what’s happening?” his mother asked.

  “Nothing,” he said. “I’ll be home soon.”

  “Okay,” his mother said, her voice cracking.

  He hated hurting her, didn’t want to hurt her anymore, but what if Eleanor was right? What if he tried to kill her?

  “Mom, I’ve got to go. Love you,” he said, his eyes not leaving Eleanor’s face. Her skin was creamy like the fallen snow, and he had an urge to caress it to see how soft it was.

  Eleanor stood right next to him dressed in jeans and a long pink sweater. “Why are you lying to her?”

  “I’m not lying,” he insisted as he hung up the phone. “I’ll see her tonight.”

  “Only if you want to kill her.”

  “Quit saying that. I’d never kill her.”

  “You will if you’re not in control of your hunger. Newly formed vampires canna be around humans without the fear of drainin’ them into empty husks.”

  He gritted his teeth. “I said I wouldn’t do that.”

  “Uh, huh,” she said.

  He had never wanted to hit a woman before. But this woman, he wanted to hurl toward the sun and have her sizzle like a mosquito. “I won’t.”

  She flashed her gaze over him. “I can teach you how to control your hunger, but you must do as I say or you’ll kill people you love.”

  Jayden wanted to shake her and force her to admit she was a liar. That he wasn’t a danger to his mother. But what if he were wrong? Could he take that chance?

  Chapter Three

  Eleanor Baines stared at her new charge. Jayden tilted his square chin. He stood with his legs spread apart, his fists clenched. His body blocked the bedroom window.

  She didn’t know what she was thinking. This was a man ready to challenge her authority. Challenge and conquer.

  “Jayden, you’re not in control of your powers.”

  “How do you know? I might surprise you.”

  An understatement.

  “You’re full of surprises all right.”

  The first time they’d met, she’d literally run into him, and he’d saved her from a would-be-killer. She couldn’t believe the sexy lead singer of Nightmare had just rescued her. He’d taken her to the bathroom to tend her wounds. But she needed blood, his blood. He’d tasted strong, sensual, hot. His blood had spurred her infatuation.

  Soon after he rescued her, she had sneaked into a bar to be close to him. When Jayden sang on stage, his husky voice had hypnotized her. She sat near the stage and their eyes had met. But there had been no recognition in his, and she’d swallowed back the disappointment.

  He hadn’t worn a shirt, and sweat glistened off his naked body. When he rocked his hips, she bet he’d take her hard in bed. During the break, Jayden spoke to a man at the bar. Eleanor couldn’t breathe. She knew the man. Her joy had been crushed—his manager was Desmond Carver, a notorious vampire killer.

  She left and stayed away from Jayden. Until last night.

  Jayden lifted his eyebrow and his midnight-blue eyes deepened in color. He moved his head, and his long hair flicked behind him, exposing his neck. “I’ve got a gig tomorrow tonight and you’re not stopping me.”

  “You’re not going to make this easy,” she said. Her voice was too low and she wasn’t sure he heard her. All she could think about was how good he tasted.

  She broke out in a boiling sweat and wished she could rush into the bathroom to splash water onto her face. But she couldn’t trust Jayden to follow her order.

  “You canna leave,” she said. This time, her voice was loud and commanding.

  Jayden didn’t even flinch. “Watch me.” He brushed past her.

  Her heart pounding, she grabbed his thick wrist. She knew she was stronger than him and forced back the temptation of kissing him. “You’re not ready yet.”

  He loomed over her, and she inhaled his masculine scent of musk and leather that teased her senses. His lips fascinated her, and she wanted to kiss him again. The first time, he’d tasted of sage, lemon, and pine. But his scent was different, and she wanted to discover his new taste.

  “Let go of me.”

  His harsh voice broke her lusty thoughts. This wasn’t a man who liked to be jested with and she might as well be whistling jigs to a milestone to get him to change his mind. “No,” she said.

  He pulled on his arm and tried to peel off her fingers. He seized her wrist to yank free, and she smiled. She was stronger, a hundred years stronger than him.

  “What the hell?” he grumbled.

  “You’re a newly turned vampire. I’m older than you.”

  “So?”

  Stubborn male. “Meaning I’m stronger and faster than you are. Also, I donna have the lust for blood like you do.”

  “Are you telling me that I’m your fucking prisoner?”

  She knew what it was like to be held against one’s will, to be tortured, to be humiliated, to be terrified. If it hadn’t been for Janus Morano, she’d have died on that cold farm ground, her flesh picked away by wild animals. “No, I’d never do that.”

  “Yeah, right. The word of a vampire is worth what these days?”

  She released his wrist. “I’m trying to help you, Jayden. If you’d—”

  He walked toward the door, but then stopped. He glanced over his shoulder. “You know my name?”

  Heat flamed her cheeks. “I saw you play once at the Gold Pan in Breckenridge. Last night when I found you—”

  “You decided to make me a vampire and your slave for eternity?”

  “Aye—”

  His eyes stormed with hate.

  “I mean no. Not the slave part,” she said.

  “Don’t do me any favors, Eleanor.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “I could have let you bleed to death,” she said.

  He opened the door and stomped out, slamming the door shut. She winced. God, what had she done? She’d never turned anyone before, especially a hot-headed rock singer.

  Older vampires had told her turning someone wasn’t easy. Janus had a devil of time with his charge, Delores, only to lose her to the vampire slayers. Eleanor wouldn’t lose Jayden.

  She rushed out of the bedroom and down the hall. Jayden hurried to the front door, and she sped past him, blocking his way.

  “You don’t give up, do you?”
he asked.

  “Jayden, if you go out there, you’ll kill a human,” she said.

  “Kill a human? Isn’t that what bloody vampires do?”

  She tilted her chin. “No, not all of us. Vampires like myself have learned how not to kill our donors and live on their donated blood.”

  “Donated blood?”

  “Yes, there are humans who know about us and bestow their blood.”

  “I still don’t…”

  “We pay for it. Just like humans pay for milk delivery, we pay for blood delivery.”

  He wrinkled his face. “You’re kidding?”

  “No, I’m not.” She motioned with her head. “Let me show you.”

  “Since I’m not obviously going any where, mistress, lead on.”

  She reached for his hand, and he yanked his away. She didn’t need to hold his hand to keep him from darting out the front door. Her speed alone could keep him here.

  And she needed to keep him here. If Jayden whiffed human blood, he’d leave a rash of drained bodies. Having a host of humans slaughtered in Frisco would bring other vampire killers besides Desmond Carter. How had Jayden chosen him to be his manager? Did he even know what a twisted bastard Desmond was? She followed him through the living room that led to her kitchen.

  “You actually celebrate Christmas?”

  She stopped at the scorn dribbling from his voice and frowned. She followed his gaze to her six-foot Christmas tree in front of a picture window that faced Mount Royal. Stars glittered around the frosted peak. “Why wouldna I?”

  “You’re a vampire.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Therefore, you think vampires only celebrate Halloween?”

  He shrugged his wide shoulders and curled his lower lip, leaving little doubt that he believed vampires only celebrated a nightmare before Christmas.

  “Come on,” she said and pointed at the kitchen.

  He plopped onto bar stool that faced the black granite counter top. She flung open the refrigerator door to reveal shelves filled with milk bottles and plastic bags. Bags of blood.

  “Gross,” Jayden muttered behind her.