Midnight before Christmas

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Midnight before Christmas Page 2

by Renee George


  Her tongue felt thick against her teeth. “I don’t feel well.”

  “You’ll be fine. Just fine,” a voice said, but it sounded wrong, almost metallic.

  “Where are we going?” she asked. “What’s wrong with me?”

  “Devil’s Breath,” was whispered in her ear. “It’s a sweet little drug that makes stuck-up girls like you more compliant.”

  “I don’t… I don’t understand.”

  “You humiliated me, bitch.” The person holding Rachel turned her until she could make out a face. Tommy.

  He laughed as he turned her in a circle, reminding her of a children’s party game. When he stopped, nausea came with the dizziness. She managed to steady herself and saw at least twelve other men surrounding her. The drug made it impossible to see any of them clearly. Her legs gave out, and she sank to her knees. The snow seeped through her jeans, but she barely felt its biting cold.

  He paced around her. “You think you’re some kind of star, Rachel. But not here. In Silver Lake, you’re nothing.”

  The sharp sting in her cheek told her she’d been slapped, but she felt too sluggish to move.

  “Take your clothes off, Rachel.”

  Her mind screamed no, but her body wasn’t listening. Some other force controlled her. She took off her coat and drew her shirt over her head. She managed to cover her breasts.

  The men surrounding her guffawed. “Don’t flatter yourself, Rachel. I’m not going to fuck you.” He leaned down. His eyes were the russet color of a sunset. His teeth were jagged and pointy. Rachel couldn’t comprehend what she was looking at. Tommy … but not Tommy. “I’m going to strip your flesh from your bones and feast on your carcass.”

  Reflexively, Rachel’s head snapped back. The light airiness of the cold breeze surrounding her made her feel as if she were levitating. There was a crackling in her head like falling frozen tree limbs, then her mouth opened and a piercing shriek ripped from her throat.

  “Damn it!” Tommy shouted, his hand flying to his ears as his knees buckled beneath him.

  The rest of men in the circle dropped to the ground, too. Rachel felt drained. She tried to focus her fuzzy vision on Tommy as he rose to his feet and closed the gap between them.

  He raised his fist. “Fucking bitch.” His hands were misshapen and clawed. Too surreal to be real.

  A growl tore from his lips, and he shoved her. She slammed into something solid and two strong arms wrapped around her chest. She vaguely recognized the voice. Max. Her champion. It was two against a dozen.

  “There’s too many,” she said. “Too many.”

  “Don’t worry about them.” She heard ruffling as if someone shook out a sheet, and then Max said, “Hold on, Rachel.”

  Before she could even wonder what he meant, the ground was ten feet below her and her feet dangled in the air. She looked down and saw twinkling Christmas lights, glittery mounds of snow, and itty bitty houses. Despite the odd view, she felt safe and protected.

  That was her last thought before she passed out.

  * * * *

  Max cradled Rachel in his arms. When she’d screamed, the noise had nearly burst his eardrums and froze him in place. After he could move again, he’d bolted right into the thick of it to save her. Halfway to his rental cabin near the lake, she’d passed out.

  Rachel needed his help.

  But he’d believed his lover, his betrayer, Ashlan had needed his help, too. Stop it, Max. He wasn’t a teenager anymore, and Rachel wasn’t Ashlan. But he’d blown his cover. Even if he hadn’t jumped in the middle of them shouting, “Haha! I’m a shadow warrior,” his huge wings were a neon sign. Tommy was definitely other. He would know that Max was a dragon shifter. Max’s only hope was that the asshole hadn’t recognized him as one of the Gray triplets.

  Rachel’s cry had nearly crippled him as well as her assailants. He’d never heard anything like what came from her mouth. It marked her as an other worlder, but Max had no idea what she could be. A harpy? A banshee?

  “Dad is going to kill me,” he said to the unconscious woman in his arms. He noticed her lips were blue. He picked up airspeed. “Hang on, sweetheart. I’ll keep you safe,” he promised.

  With more determination than he’d felt in a long time, Max knew he’d do whatever it took to keep his word. Even if it meant disappointing his dad.

  * * * *

  “You’re a goddamn idiot, Ritter.” The shadowed man sat at his desk, the small lamp in front of him illuminating his thin fingers.

  The words stung Tommy like a slap in the face with a cold, wet towel. Rachel had called him an idiot as well. He was beginning to regret joining the ancient amphyr and the Children of Caledon. He was amphyr as well, but only half. His mother had been human. He’d brought several of his hockey buddies, others like himself, into the fold. The amphyr were nearly immortal, and they were the creatures legend and myth had deemed vampires. He liked to think of himself as the heroic, romantic version depicted on television and in the movies. But he had a craving for human flesh and blood so strong that it made intimacies impossible without killing his dates. The ancient one had promised him a new life. New power. And the freedom to take his rightful place at the top of the food chain.

  But right now, being yelled at like a child, Tommy felt anything but powerful.

  “What were you thinking?”

  “I was thinking that bitch deserved some payback.”

  “That bitch is a legend around here. If something were to happen to her, it would draw all kinds of attention to us and not just locally. We’d be lucky if they didn’t pull in the feds to help investigate, and worse, it might bring shadow warriors down on our heads.”

  “I didn’t think—”

  “Damn right, you didn’t think!” his leader snapped.

  “I thought she was human. I’ve known her since grade school. She’s never shown any signs of being other. That scream froze me in place.”

  “I heard and felt it,” the man said. “A jotnar’s roar. I haven’t heard one of their calls in many, many years. I thought they were extinct.”

  “A what-nar?”

  “If she is what I think she is, we might be able to turn your blunder into an opportunity.” He tapped his nails against the desk. “A jotnar horn might be exactly what we need to turn the tides of this war.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Track down Rachel Campbell and bring her to me. Take her whole family if you have to.”

  “What about the dragon who rescued her?”

  “If he interferes again, capture him as well. He has me curious.”

  Tommy smiled. He would get his second chance for payback with Rachel Campbell.

  “Thomas,” the man said. He leaned forward. His red eyes glowed as the lamplight illuminated them. His ashen skin marked him as a pure blood. His teeth were sharp and jagged as he worked his jaw side to side. “Don’t mess this up, and don’t kill the girl. Not yet.”

  Chapter 3

  Rachel’s head pounded with what had to be the mother of all hangovers. Why had she drank so much the night before? Her mouth tasted like sour glue. She rubbed her face and eyes and tried to sit up without her head exploding. She yanked up the animal print throw blanket when it slid from her upper body. She was naked, except for her bra and panties! Had she undressed herself? Had someone else?

  Her state of undress kicked in her adrenaline. This wasn’t her room at Callie’s! The walls were wood paneled, the furniture was mildly musty and screamed 1980s country comfort. Big cushions covered in a pale blue velour covered the oversized couch. She knew two things: She had no clue where she was, and she had no idea how she got here.

  “Good morning.”

  The low sexy voice and the smell of black coffee snapped her attention. Max—the hunk from the bar. Had she been so drunk she didn’t remember going home with him?

  He wore loose fitting sweats that hung low on his hips, and the lack of a shirt showed his taut abs and the defined V that di
pped below the waistband of the pants. Rachel’s mouth started watering, which just made the sour taste worse. The grossness of her booze breath aside, she couldn’t believe he’d taken home a woman too drunk to consent?

  He held out a mug. “Not a morning person, huh?”

  “I’m more of a not-waking-up-in-a-strange-room person.” She glared at him. Did they have sex? She didn’t feel different. She’d always expected her first time would flip a magic switch in her body that would mean she was finally a woman. Finally her own person. But she felt the same. The same old Rachel.

  “Oh God,” she groaned. “I’m gonna have to do the walk of shame.”

  “I’m not sure what you mean.” He moved closer, still holding out the steaming cup. “Do you like coffee? I can add cream and sugar if you like.”

  She sighed, and knew her breath was powerful enough to knock out a rhino. She looked around. “Where’s your bathroom?”

  “Down the hall on the right.”

  She rose to her feet, suddenly feeling woozy with the effort. Max grabbed her elbow, but she jerked away.

  “I’m fine.”

  She wobbled toward the hallway, bumping against the corner before staggering into the narrow corridor. She opened the first door she found, and inside the smallish room was a full-sized bed, the covers messy and half on the floor. Okay. If they had had sex, how come she’d ended up on the couch? Either Max was a gentleman and hadn’t touched her or the sex had been so bad, he’d banished her to the living room.

  “The right door,” he called out.

  She turned and entered the tiny bathroom. The cold porcelain of the sink soothed her hot palms. As she stared at her make-up streaked eyes in the mirror, she cursed herself for being so stupid. How could she leave with a stranger? And why the hell hadn’t Callie been watching her back?

  She tried to rationalize that if Max Gray had wanted to harm her, he’d had all night to do it. So, after getting her racing pulse under control, she washed her face, finger combed her jacked-up hair, found a travel-sized bottle of mouthwash to finger brush her teeth, and then yelled at the door, “Where are my clothes?”

  * * * *

  Max searched his duffle bag for a shirt that didn’t have more than a couple days of wear. He’d packed light, only three pairs of jeans, sweat pants, and a three T-shirts. He pulled out the blue one. It reminded him of her eyes. He brought it to his nose and inhaled. Not too smelly. It would be huge on her, more a nightgown than a shirt, but it would work.

  Rachel obviously didn’t remember the night before. Whatever Tommy had given her must have affected her memory. If that were the case, he could understand why she was so unsettled. He debated the merits of telling her the truth. Well, not the truth about him or his mission. Did she know she was an other worlder? Not every OW realized they weren’t human until adulthood. Had he fallen for a ruse? Maybe she was a Child of Caldron and only made him believe she was in trouble. Max sighed. Maybe he hadn’t been ready for a solo mission. He grabbed her pants off the chair in the living room, walked down the hall, and knocked on the bathroom door.

  “I have some clothes for you.”

  The door opened three inches, and a small hand reached out and snatched the shirt and jeans from him. She slammed the door again.

  Max shook his head. “Do you need anything else?”

  “Some privacy. Thank you.” There was a quick pause. “Unless you want to hear me pee and stuff.”

  He threw up his hands. “I’ll be in the front room.” The cabin had one bedroom, one bathroom, open kitchen—living room combo floor plan. While dragon shifters didn’t have the kind of hearing some shifters did, the place was small enough he’d have heard her pee no matter where he was in the place.

  The water in the sink ran for fifteen minutes. Max was glad he’d taken his morning shower before Rachel woke up. When she came out of the room, she had his blue T-shirt on and tied in a knot that rested at the waist of her jeans.

  His heart skipped a beat as she looked him square in the eye with a glare that probably scared the crap out of her ice-skating competition. “Where’s my shirt?”

  “I… uh…” In a situation like this, the facts, or at least a version of them, was the best course of action. “You left it at the bar.”

  “What!”

  The sharp tone made him wince. “You were pretty out of it.”

  She slumped down on the couch. “I don’t remember.” She looked up at Max, her eyes almost pleading. “I don’t remember any of it.”

  “Do you remember me?”

  “Only when you were in the bar.” Her cheeks reddened with a deep blush as she tugged at the shirt. “I don’t remember anything after you left.”

  Max studied her. “We didn’t sleep together.”

  The relief was visible on her face.

  Max raised a brow. “When we make love, Rachel Campbell, you’ll remember.”

  “When?” She brushed her knees with her fingertips then looked up to meet his gaze. “You certainly are sure of yourself, Max Gray.”

  “Very sure.” The moment he’d seen Rachel across the bar, he’d known he wanted her. This ice princess would be his, even if she didn’t realize it yet.

  “I’m going to marry you,” Max said.

  “What?”

  Max smiled and shrugged as if he hadn’t said a word.

  Rachel shook her head. She got up from the couch, strolled to the front window, and rubbed the chill from her upper arms as she stared at the snow-covered ground. “I don’t see your car. How’d you get me here?”

  “I hitched us a ride on Santa’s sleigh.”

  Rachel gave him a sharp look.

  Max laughed. “’Tis the season and all.”

  “Shoot. It’s Christmas Eve, and I’m supposed to be at my parents this morning. All my clothes are at Callie’s house, and unless you can get another sleigh and ten flying reindeer out here, I’m screwed.”

  “Not yet.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “You’re an awful person.” But her smile and sudden laugh took the edge off her words. “I don’t think I’ve ever had someone flirt this hard with me before.”

  “I’m not flirting.” Max smiled back. “Okay. Maybe a little. But I’m cute. Right?”

  “There is that,” Rachel admitted. She laughed again and made her way back to the couch to sit. “Did my purse make it?”

  “No. Sorry.”

  “Do you at least have a phone?”

  “That I do.”

  “Good. I should probably call Callie and my parents and let them know I haven’t been kidnapped by a homicidal maniac.” She narrowed her eyes. “You’re not a homicidal maniac are you?”

  “Well, I’m not homicidal.”

  Rachel laughed again.

  Max felt a warm glow in his chest. Her laugh made him happy. Happier than he’d felt in a long time. He grabbed his phone from the charger and handed it to her.

  “Well, damn,” she said. “No bars.”

  “They were full last night.”

  “The storm probably took out the cell tower.” She sighed and put the phone down on the coffee table. “I still don’t understand what happened last night. I mean, you seem like a good guy and all, but I have never gone home with a stranger. Never.” Her emphatic stare matched the insistence in her tone.

  Max wasn’t sure how to explain why he’d brought her to his cabin. He didn’t have the practice his brothers did in making up plausible, mostly believable stories. Going so long without the ability to speak had turned him into a very bad liar. “I don’t know where to begin.”

  “How about the beginning?” Her demure, uncertain smile, made him want to confess all to Rachel, and to feel like he could trust her so instinctively disturbed Max.

  He decided to tell her the truth. The whole truth. When he got to the part about Tommy instructing her to take off her clothes, Rachel paled. “He—” She put her hand to her mouth and let out a gentle “oh.”

  “No,” Max s
aid. “It didn’t get that far. Your scream stopped him.”

  Her face paled to bone-white, and her voice came as a whisper. “My what?”

  “You know,” Max said. He tilted his head back and opened his mouth to mime her action.

  “I don’t know, actually.” Her shoulders drew up near her ears.

  “Are you a harpy?”

  “Is that some kind of euphemism for bitch? Because I’ve been called worse.”

  Max snorted. “No. I really don’t know what you are. I’ve never heard the kind of scream that came out of your mouth last night. It probably woke the entire town.”

  “You’re exaggerating.”

  Did she really not know she wasn’t human? Or at least not all human? She’d used the call as if born to it, but watching her now, Max believed she was ignorant of her actions and of her OW status.

  She tilted her chin and met his gaze. “You rescued me?”

  “Yes.”

  Her clear blue eyes mesmerized Max. This brave beauty, a woman he shouldn’t have concerned himself with, had become all he could think about.

  “Thank you.”

  She didn’t ask him how he’d managed to get her away from Tommy and his gang of thugs, and a part of him was disappointed. He wanted to tell Rachel what and who he was. He wanted her to know everything about him, about his world, and he knew to his core that if she asked, he wouldn’t hold anything back.

  “I think I’d like to go home now.”

  He wasn’t sure if it was safe for her to head back to town. Tommy might’ve made an impulsive decision, one he regretted and would not repeat. Max had busted out the dragon wings and flew her to safety. Maybe the man would shift his interest to Max and away from Rachel.

  He weighed his concerns, but he figured she would be safe with her family. He finally said, “I have a snowmobile out back, but we’ll have to get you bundled up for the trip.”

  Rachel nodded. “Thank you again.”

  “Don’t thank me yet.” If Ritter and his goons decided to fixate on Rachel, Max alone might not be able to stop them.

  * * * *

  They’d stopped by Callie’s apartment first so Rachel could change clothes and make herself presentable, but her best friend hadn’t been home. She’d probably hooked up with the cowboy and ended up at his place. It left Rachel only one option. One she dreaded. Max parked the snowmobile in front of her childhood home. Reluctantly, she let him go.

 

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