A Vampire's Christmas Carol

by Cynthia Eden

  William shoved him again. “Don’t be scared, vamp, it’s not like you don’t know what will happen next.” His touch scorched Ben’s flesh.

  Dammit, Ben was tired of the demon’s burning shoves! He turned around and drove his fist into the demon’s face. Take that, bastard. William fell into the snow and Ben…he whirled back around and watched himself die.

  The blond vampire had used his fangs to rip into and across Ben’s neck. The wound was deep. Savage. Blood was all around his body. His eyes were open, desperate.

  So this is what I looked like when I died.

  Chalk-white face, helpless stare. A mouth that struggled to speak, but with his throat ripped open, no words would be coming from him.

  There was only…death.

  And death did come. The gasping, choking sound ended with a wheeze. His eyes were still open, but staring sightlessly ahead. His chest didn’t rise. The blood…it was a blanket around him. His final shroud.

  Snow crunched beneath William’s feet as the demon moved closer. “Now this only lasts a few minutes. The faster the rising, the more powerful the vampire.”

  Ben glanced over at William. The demon was swiping snow off his body.

  “You came back damn fast, so that meant you’d be a powerhouse.”

  A powerhouse who’d never had the chance to cry out for help before his change.

  But, sure enough, Ben saw the body in the snow stiffen. The green eyes changed, becoming golden in color, and the gaping wound in his neck…it closed.

  The seconds ticked past in silence.

  “You were lucky,” William added, his voice low. “I knew some poor bastards who didn’t rise until they’d already been buried. At least you didn’t have to dig your way out of a grave.”

  Yes, he’d been…lucky.

  Then the man on the ground—me—started to suck in deep, heaving gulps of air.

  “You’re back,” William’s wry voice told him.

  Ben watched as his old self jumped to his feet. He ran shaking hands over his neck. Over his blood-soaked clothes.

  “Back, but so different…”

  Because the man standing there, with terror on his face…that guy had glowing, golden eyes…and two inch long fangs.

  “I don’t want to see anymore,” Ben spun away from that memory or flashback or psychotic hallucination. Whatever the hell it was, he didn’t want to watch it anymore. He locked his fingers around William’s arm. “Get me out of here. Now.”

  William lifted a brow. “It’s because you know who’ll be coming next.”

  “Get me out of here!”

  “But if I did that, you’d miss the whole point of this walk down memory lane.” William shook his head. “We’re not done in your past yet.”

  “This is ridiculous! I don’t want—”

  “This is a lesson, and it’s your last chance.” Then William’s eyes widened as he stared over Ben’s shoulder. “Here she comes.”

  Ben almost bit him. No, no, no. Ben did not want to see this. Her. He didn’t want to see her.

  His heart pounded hard in his chest. Please, no. She needed to run away. Run—

  “Ben!” A woman’s voice called out. Worried. Scared. “Ben, where are you?”

  “I don’t want to see this,” Ben growled.

  “Ben!”

  He found himself looking toward that desperate cry. She was there. She was bundled up in the coat he’d given her, with her long, blonde hair spilling down her back. As she called for him, her face reflected her fear. Such a beautiful face. Heart-shaped, with glass-sharp cheekbones and a small, straight nose. He would have been able to pick her out anywhere.

  Gorgeous. Delicate. So very perfect with her dark brown eyes and her lush, red lips.

  And, once…so very mine.

  She spotted the man covered in blood. She ran toward him. Threw her arms around him. Held him tight. “Oh, Ben! What happened? Where are you hurt? What can I do?” Her hands flew frantically over him. Then… “The blood…”

  I don’t want to see this. The memory hurt too fucking much. It made him want to cut out his own heart. Right. Like he hadn’t already tried that a time or ten.

  Ben’s eyes locked on William because he would not, could not, watch that scene any longer. “Simone should have left me in a bloody heap.” Simone Laurent. The woman with the eyes that had seemed to see straight into his soul.

  Until he’d stopped having a soul.

  “Isn’t that her ring that you had in your pocket?” William craned to see the couple over Ben’s shoulder. “I mean, you were planning to marry the lovely Simone. That’s why you came to the park, right? You asked her to meet you here so that you could propose to her.”

  He’d lost everything in that park. “Get me out of here.”

  “Um…you know, I’m not sure you’re getting the point of this little activity.” Now William’s hand slammed down on Ben’s chest, right over his heart. “Maybe you need a more, up-close view of the past. Just watching isn’t enough. Let’s try experiencing it firsthand.” William’s tattoos started to swirl as the demon began to chant. Then he said, “I can only give you an hour, but I think it will be long enough. While you’re there, it will be just like you’re living things for the first time. You won’t even remember me.”

  What. The. Fuck?

  “So just enjoy your time with her. The end will be the same, no matter what you do. It’s still a memory, only one you’re living.”

  Ben could smell the scent of his own burning flesh. The snow fell harder, and then the fire raged once more, seeming to surge right up from William’s hand.

  Ben screamed as he was consumed. But it was her name that he screamed. Simone. The only woman he’d ever loved.

  The woman he’d killed.

  “Simone!”

  ***

  Water slammed into his face. Ben blinked as steam rose around him. He shook his head and realized—

  I’m in a shower.

  Not just any shower, though. His hand flew out and yanked against the gleaming, gold faucet. He stumbled from the shower, his feet slipping a bit on the marble tile. This bathroom—it was in his New York penthouse.

  He whirled around, his gaze flying to the left, to the right. My place.

  “Ben, I’ve got a towel for you.”

  He stiffened. That was Simone’s voice. He could smell her. That light, sweet scent of vanilla that had always clung to her.

  Naked, dripping, he turned to face her. She stood in the doorway, a white towel held in her hands.

  A dark wave of déjà vu swept over him. He felt as if he’d somehow lived this exact scene before. With her. And…something very bad had happened. The knowledge was there, but…clouded. Foggy.

  “Ben?” Simone gazed up at him with worry clear on her face.

  He backed up a step. “You should…stay away from me.” He wasn’t even sure why he gave her that warning.

  Simone shook her head. Instead of getting away from him, she said, “I want to help you.” She crept forward until she stood right in front of him. Her right hand rose, and her soft palm settled against his chest. That one touch electrified him, and it sealed her fate.

  “Please,” she whispered. “I want to help you.”

  Chapter Three

  Lust clawed through him. The need, the red-hot desire, seemed to burn Ben from the inside. He grabbed Simone, yanked her flush against him. His mouth locked on hers. He’d always tried to be so careful with her in the past. Played the gentleman because she mattered.

  He wasn’t a gentleman any longer. Ben wasn’t even sure what he was. He just knew he needed Simone naked, and he had to be in her.

  He carried her back to his bedroom. He ignored the glittering New York skyline. She was the only thing he could see. Desire pounded through him. His cock was so swollen that he hurt and—

  His teeth were extending. Stretching in his mouth.

  Ben dropped Simone on the bed and stepped back, horrified.

 
; “Ben?” Simone sat up on the bed and pushed back the blonde hair that had tumbled forward. “What’s wrong?”

  She was so gorgeous and sexy staring up at him. Looking at him with those wide, dark eyes.

  I’m going to hurt her. He grabbed for the control that he’d always held so easily in the past. Only that control was broken. Shattered. “You need to leave.”

  Simone sucked in a sharp breath. Pain flashed over her face. “I thought…you said you loved me.”

  He did love her, and that was why she needed to get the fuck away from him. “Something is different.” He turned away from her so that she wouldn’t see the fangs that were now fully extended.

  Fangs. I’ve got fangs now. When in the hell had that happened?

  The bed squeaked behind him. “Nothing is different for me.”

  Her scent deepened. She’d risen from the bed. She was coming toward him. Ben squeezed his eyes shut.

  “I love you,” Simone told him, “no matter what. I love you.”

  “Please,” he’d never begged anyone before. “You should…go…” Because she was too much temptation for him.

  Her fingers slid over his shoulder. He was still naked, and that one touch rocked all the way through him.

  “I want to be with you,” Simone said softly. “Always.”

  Those soft words tore away the last shreds of his control. Nothing could have stopped him in that moment.

  Need erupted. A dark, consuming need that swept away the man he’d been. He whirled back toward her. They hit the bed together, and his hands flew out, ripping away her clothes.

  Simone arched into his touch. She should have been shoving him away. She should have been horrified. Instead, she was caressing him. Making the need grow so much worse.

  He licked her breast. She had full, round breasts with tight, pink nipples. He kissed them. Sucked them. Laved them with his tongue.

  His heart raced in his ears, the rhythm fast and frantic. Wait…was that his heartbeat, or hers?

  Ben pushed up on his arms and stared down at her. His gaze locked on her neck. On the pulse that pounded there. His breath heaved out.

  Bite.

  “Ben?” Her hands slid over his chest. “What’s wrong?”

  “I could…fucking…devour you.”

  She smiled at him. Smiled. When she should be running. But if she ran—

  I’d follow.

  Her legs shifted against him, parting more. His fingers slid into the haven there, pushing up into her sex. She was wet and tight, and she moaned when he thrust two fingers into her core. Her eyes held his. “I want you,” she whispered. “All of you.”

  And there was no way he could hold back.

  Ben thrust into her, driving deep in a plunge that left him balls-deep inside of her. She moaned and the sound maddened him even more. She was hot silk around his cock. So perfect. So…his.

  He withdrew. Thrust deep. Again. Again.

  Her fingers slid down his chest. He caught them. Pinned them to the bed. His mouth lowered over her neck. He licked her skin. Kissed her right over her racing pulse-point.

  Raked her with his teeth.

  Her sex gripped him tightly as she wrapped her legs around his hips. She arched up against him and that move pushed her neck against his mouth.

  Her pulse throbbed beneath his lips.

  His teeth raked her again.

  He withdrew. Thrust. The bed creaked beneath him. He couldn’t get inside of her deep enough. Couldn’t thrust hard enough.

  He wanted to claim her. Every single part of her. He wanted to own her.

  “Ben!” Her sex contracted around him as she shuddered in release.

  His own release pushed down on him, but he kept thrusting, not ready for that wave to hit him, not yet.

  The smell of sex and sweet vanilla filled his nose. And her pulse…that racing pulse point, the fast rush of blood in her veins…it filled his mind.

  His teeth sank into her throat. Blood—hot, rich, better than wine, better than anything—spilled onto his tongue. He kept thrusting and drinking from her. Taking and taking.

  “Ben…” Her voice was a whisper now.

  His climax hit him. The powerful surge shook his whole body, as wave after wave of release rushed through him. The pleasure was so intense that his muscles clenched. So intense he pulled his mouth from her throat and roared out her name.

  But Simone didn’t move.

  And…as he blinked down at her, Ben saw the blood dripping from the two puncture wounds on her neck.

  “B-baby?” Ben whispered. The burning lust was gone. The physical need slaked. And the desperate need for her blood? Satisfied.

  He touched her cheek. Her skin was warm and soft beneath his rough fingers. She stirred, blinking, but her gaze seemed unfocused and too weak as she gazed up at him.

  “What…what did you do?” Simone asked.

  He was still in her body. Flush with release. And he’d taken her blood. Nearly taken her life.

  His teeth had transformed once more. Returned to a normal size. A human size. He pulled from her body. So carefully now. Using the gentleness that he should have shown her before.

  But he’d been a monster then.

  That’s what I am now. The blood. The fangs. The wounds from the attack that had healed so quickly. There were the all signs of what he’d become. Only Simone didn’t see them for what they were. No, she didn’t see him for what he was.

  Ben left the bed. Simone reached out to him, but Ben shook his head. “I-I have to get a cloth for you. You’re bleeding.” She needed more than a cloth. The woman might need a transfusion. How much blood had he taken?

  But her fingers curled around his hand. As he stood by the bed, she lifted his wrist toward her mouth. She pressed a kiss to his skin. “That was incredible,” Simone told him, her voice husky.

  What? He’d attacked her. Bit her.

  He pulled his hand from her. “I hurt you.” The blood was still dripping down her neck. And, as he stared at it, the dark hunger grew within him once more. He found himself leaning forward because he wanted to lick that blood away from her skin.

  No.

  He straightened. Backed away from her. Rushed into the bathroom and wet a cloth. He tried to suck in deep breaths, but they did nothing to calm him, and when Ben looked into the mirror—

  My eyes are glowing. The gold burned. The man in that mirror, he didn’t look like Ben. Not really. His cheeks were sharper. His mouth…crueler. And when he parted his lips, Ben saw the glint of his fangs.

  Vampire. Those fanged freaks were only supposed to exist in movies. Books. But he was staring at one right then. Gazing into a reflection that showed him a monster.

  And here I thought vamps weren’t supposed to have reflections.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He spun and found Simone in the bathroom. Naked and perfect. He hurried to her. His hand was shaking when he wiped the blood away from her neck. Taste it. Take her again. The sly command came from deep within Ben.

  He tossed the cloth away, but he could smell her blood. Blood and sex. A combination that seemed to be calling to a beast inside of him. “Leave, Simone,” he managed to say.

  She lifted her hand toward him. Her fingers were closed in a tight fist. “I-I found this a few minutes ago,” she said, “when I was…I was moving your clothes.”

  Her hand turned over. Her fingers opened. A gleaming, diamond ring rested in her palm.

  Pain stabbed into his chest. Into the heart that was hers. She’d possessed it from the moment he’d met her.

  Simone’s gaze was on his face. “This is why you wanted me to meet you in Central Park tonight.”

  His hand lifted. He took the ring from her palm.

  “Why are you telling me to leave when you were planning to ask me to marry you?”

  “Because everything has changed.” In an instant. He shouldered past her. He had to get away from Simone and the scent of blood and sex. The lust rode him hard,
and he was afraid, so afraid, that he’d lose control again.

  He grabbed fresh clothes from his closet. Dressed as quickly as he could, then Ben hurried down to the lower level of the penthouse. He rushed by the Christmas tree. A huge, fourteen foot tree that he and Simone had painstakingly decorated.

  He hadn’t put up a tree since his parents died. He’d been cold and empty, just going through the motions of life.

  Then he’d met her.

  “Ben, wait!”

  If he waited, they’d fuck again. And he’d drink from her once more. No. He wouldn’t take her blood. She was already too pale. The woman might not survive another attack. And, worse, he might not be able to stop if he tasted her again. “I’m sorry.” He shoved the ring into his pocket. “If you won’t go, I will.”

  “It’s Christmas!”

  He glanced at the grandfather clock. Almost midnight. Just a few minutes away.

  “Don’t do this!” Her footsteps rushed toward him. “Whatever is happening, we can handle it. Together. We can—”

  She touched him. A dark desire seemed to ignite at her touch. He twisted, grabbed her, and pinned her against the door. His mouth crashed down on hers. Hot and hard, and he thrust his tongue past her lips and he—

  Blood.

  The taste of blood filled his mouth. He must have bit her. Sliced her lip with his fangs.

  Take more. Take everything. That was his demand, from a dangerous place inside of Ben.

  For an instant, he imagined fucking her against the door. Driving deep into her and making her scream as he sank his fangs into her throat and took more of that delicious blood from her. He could take and take until—

  Nothing was left.

  He pulled away. Squeezed his eyes shut. “We’re done.” His voice was hoarse. Hollow. All emotion gone. There was no room for emotion.

  Not when he was on the edge.

  If I touch her again, I’ll hurt her. Hurting her might not be all he did.

  Ben was afraid he might kill her.

  Simone put a hand to her mouth as she stumbled away from the door. He yanked that door open. Left her, before he broke.

  “I love you.” Her words followed him.

  But he couldn’t stop.