Vampire for Christmas

by Felicity Heaton

  “I’m fine.”

  There was a long pause, full of expectation and unspoken things.

  Sometimes, when this feeling washed over her, she had a sense that he wanted to say something to her. He never had though, and she often found herself wondering what it was he couldn’t put a voice to.

  “So, where are we going? Into town, or beyond town... perhaps you called me all the way out here on a freezing cold night just to make me go gift shopping with you. If that is the case, I have to say it is in poor taste, as I am a vampire... I do not celebrate Christmas as you do.”

  “I don’t.” Shannon wished she could take those two words back. They were going to cause questions that she didn’t want to answer. She glanced at Rafe, briefly making eye contact, and then looked away to her right, her gaze eating the streetlamp lit grass and shrubs that she walked past. He sighed but said nothing. She waited a moment longer, afraid that he might just be building up to it, and then released the breath she had been holding. “The report states that there was a demon sighting in the local cemetery just outside the town centre.”

  “Cemetery?” Rafe sounded positively disgusted.

  She glanced at him again. He looked it too. He seemed to take it as a personal affront whenever they had to hunt demons in places like old churches, cemeteries and disused factories.

  “Some demons have no taste.”

  Shannon smiled. “Speak for yourself.”

  He frowned at her but it didn’t stick. It melted into a smile that threatened to steal her breath and she averted her gaze again. What was she doing? Her heart skittered about in her throat and she knew he would be listening to it, and he would know that he was affecting her. She could do this.

  It was just one more mission.

  And then she would be able to escape these feelings.

  She was not going to fall for him.

  He was a vampire. She was a hunter.

  Her gaze snuck back to him, studying his noble profile, and her heart thudded hard against her chest.

  There was no love more forbidden than this.

  ****

  Chapter 2

  Shannon jammed her hands into her jacket pockets and hunched up against the wind. It had come out of nowhere when they had been halfway across the small countryside town, near to the cemetery and stone church, and it had only grown stronger when they had entered the hallowed ground.

  Rafe didn’t seem to care.

  But then, he never seemed to care about much. Was that what being a vampire was like? Carefree? Was that why they could kill a human without even flinching, without a moment’s regret? She didn’t care about the excuses every vampire spouted when she was about to sentence them for murdering an innocent human. Liquid diet or not, it was wrong to kill, especially since a vampire was perfectly capable of feeding without indulging their perverse lust for tasting human death.

  Rafe was her un-living example of that and she took great pleasure in pointing that out to every vampire she killed, so they knew that they had dug their own second grave.

  Shannon looked up at him where he stood on a stone sarcophagus, his long black coat flapping out behind him in the gale and his short dark hair flat against his head. He grinned into the wind.

  “Having fun?” she hollered up at him but the wind carried her voice away. He frowned down at her and touched his ear, as though asking her to repeat herself. The wind wasn’t that strong and his hearing would have picked her up if she had only whispered. The cocky smile on his handsome face said that he was waiting for her to say something more polite before he answered. “Can you see anything?”

  He shrugged and shook his head, and went back to challenging the wind. She didn’t know how he could bear it when he was only wearing a black shirt and jeans beneath his unbuttoned coat. She knew that he could feel the cold, and that it drained his body heat. Last winter, he had complained during every mission about how long it would take him to regain his normal body temperature. From the number of times he had bound her wounds during their partnership, she could say that normal for him was cold for her. Somewhere around room temperature. Right now, he had to be freezing. She was, and her coat was buttoned up.

  Rafe put his booted foot out in front of him, bracing himself against the wind, and leaned into it. He outstretched his arms, splaying his fingers, and grinned, revealing short fangs.

  The sight of them didn’t bother her anymore. When she had first started working with him, she had been surprised to see that his canines were always slightly extended compared to hers. She had asked the demon-hunting agency about it, curious because all the vampires she had previously encountered had already been in their true guise, and they had told her that it was a sign of his age. A young vampire could appear completely human. The older they got, the more their true nature began to shine through. How old was Rafe? He looked to be in his late thirties, but that was misleading since vampires didn’t age. She hadn’t asked the agency how old he was. It seemed rude to ask them such things, even if Rafe was a vampire and not someone she was likely to ask about himself.

  At least, she had felt that way back when they had first met.

  Since then, she had asked him things about himself from time to time, but only small things, worded in careful ways so she wasn’t directly asking about him. She had danced around so many things, and he had done the same in return, leading her in circles, as though he knew that she wanted to know about him but wouldn’t tell her until she asked outright.

  Shannon ran her gaze down his lithe figure. He looked so human sometimes. It had caught her off guard several times in the early days of their partnership. It was no wonder vampires could blend so easily into the unsuspecting human population. Seeing how he could move through a crowd, could come close to so many people, within easy killing reach, had boosted her resolve to protect the world from his kind and the demons.

  Back then, she had thought it even needed protecting from Rafe.

  Now, she could see that she had been wrong. It pained her to acknowledge such a thing, but she was feeling strong enough to admit it to herself. Rafe wasn’t out to kill anymore. He wasn’t one of the bad vampires. He was one of the enlightened ones, those who had found out they could co-exist with humans and only take what they needed to survive. She still didn’t like it, but she couldn’t deny the right to live to those who had fought their nature to become more human. The moment they crossed the line though, she would be there with a sharp stake to send them back to the grave, this time permanently.

  Rafe laughed.

  Was he enjoying his game against the gale? Shannon huffed. This wasn’t a game. There was a demon on the loose and she wasn’t about to let the season of goodwill become the season of blood spill for some unfortunate passerby.

  “Rafe,” she called out to him but the wind stole her voice again.

  Squinting, she braced herself against the wind and then took a laboured step forwards, towards him. She ducked to one side when the tail of his coat whipped the air and narrowly missed her face. Edging around the grave he was standing on, she frowned and shook her head when she saw the look of sheer elation on his face. She couldn’t remember ever seeing him happy, but this was the closest he had ever got to that emotion. If challenging the wind was amusing him, then he could come back later and do it on his own time.

  “Rafe!” She folded her arms across her chest and leaned back into the wind. It started to ease. “Get down here.”

  Rafe raised a dark eyebrow and then opened his eyes and looked down at her. She stood her ground, not caring if she sounded as though she was scolding him. They had a mission to complete, and she wanted it over with as soon as possible. Her head was filling with ridiculous notions that she didn’t want to entertain and her guard was slipping. She was certain that the moment he was out of her life she would forget about him and her muddled feelings. The thought that had crossed her mind earlier had been ridiculous. Love?

  Never going to happen.

  Sh
e wasn’t in love with him and a clean break from him would prove that. She wasn’t going to miss him or this town at all. She was going to pack up, leave, and get on with her life, and maybe she would even find herself a boyfriend.

  One with a heartbeat.

  Shannon cursed that thought. Rafe was not her boyfriend. He was a guy, and sort of a friend, maybe, but he was so far from boyfriend material that he stood in the next galaxy along from it. This was just some strange form of Stockholm Syndrome. Rafe had been her closest acquaintance for two years. He had helped her out of some bad scrapes, had given her someone to talk to when she needed it most, and had even protected her a few times.

  Although he always said that he didn’t protect her out of chivalry, rather it was done out of desire to end one night without having to bind her wounds.

  A lie that she didn’t believe.

  Rafe sighed and started to move but then stopped. A look of pure revulsion twisted his face.

  “What the—” He wiped his cheek and she wondered what was wrong until he hopped down from the tomb and she saw the clear jelly-like substance coating his fingers. Trails of it stuck to his left cheek.

  She mirrored his face of disgust. The dying wind caused strands of her hair to dance across her face. She clawed them back.

  Rafe flicked the goo off his hand. “Someone seems to think it is funny to go around throwing slime at—”

  Something hit her arm and Shannon didn’t want to look. She could feel the heavy glob on the sleeve of her coat. It eased down her arm and she let out a long sigh. Rafe bit his lip and she glared at him. How dare he laugh at her misfortune when she hadn’t laughed at his?

  Anger bolted through her, sharply raising her temperature, and she looked down at the right sleeve of her black jacket. A clear track of slime covered her arm, shining in the combination of moonlight and the streetlights along the path through the cemetery. Blobs spotted the silver trail here and there, the largest of them rolling down towards her elbow. Someone was going to pay for that.

  Shannon set her jaw and scanned the cemetery for their assailant.

  It wasn’t difficult to spot.

  Seven foot of hideous green demon was heading straight for them, oozing slime as it walked and leaving a trail like a slug. It moved on thick legs that supported a midriff that said the owner needed some serious time in a gym. Long muscular arms hung at its sides, and its large hands gave Shannon the distinct impression it could crush her head in just one of them. It spat slime at a headstone, covering it completely, and then grinned towards her. Globs of clear goo rolled down from its wide serrated mouth. Black eyes fixed on her. Dark pine trees waved in the distance behind it. Light clung to its shiny coating. This was not going to be a fun fight.

  She removed her coat, wiped the slime off her sleeve, and flicked it to the floor. Rafe took the jacket from her and placed it down on the lid of the tomb he had been standing on. He removed his own coat, setting it down next to hers, and then nodded when his gaze met hers.

  Shannon pulled the stake from the back pocket of her dark jeans, flexed her fingers around it to get a good grip, and then hesitated. Rafe didn’t move either. She couldn’t blame him for having second thoughts about launching an attack on an unknown species of demon that looked as though it was as slippery as an eel and far slimier. She wasn’t exactly enjoying the prospect of getting completely coated in the cold sticky substance that was on her hand either.

  “Any ideas?” She gave Rafe a hopeful look. Maybe he would do the chivalrous thing now and fight the demon for her.

  “Not really.” Rafe ran his gaze over the approaching demon and then glanced at her. A moment later, his gaze came back to meet hers. “Would you like to go first?”

  She frowned. Was that his idea of chivalry? Ladies first? She shook her head.

  “After you.” She swept her hand out towards the demon. It was getting closer now. One of them had to attack, and at this rate, it was going to be the goo monster.

  “How about we do this together?”

  Together?

  Shannon swallowed at that thought.

  “Or you could do it by yourself.” The sharp edge to his words cut her deep and the anger that flared in his eyes only made her feel worse. “Just forget I am here. It is what you do most nights, is it not?”

  She cringed.

  Whoever had said that the truth hurts was right.

  Shannon felt as though it was splitting her in two. Part of her wanted to admit that she needed him to fight at her side, with her, and that she need him period. The other part said to ignore him. In a few days, they would be at opposite ends of the country and she would never see him again.

  She couldn’t bring herself to do either.

  A feeling of discomfort settled in her stomach as she stared into his dark eyes.

  It squirmed there like a snake, hissing things at her. She was callous. She was cruel. And why? Because he had gotten too close to her? Because he had offered to fight beside her? Because he had said they would do this together? What was it that made her do this to him?

  Was it even about him?

  Or was it about her?

  She had thrown Hell, Heaven and high water at him and he had borne it all. He had taken every insult and jibe, and every harsh word, and it hadn’t stopped him from coming back to hunt with her, or made him stop listening to her. He had still been there for her whenever she had felt the need to talk to someone, never once mentioning the way she had treated him or the things she had said.

  To hurt him.

  To push him away.

  All so she didn’t have to face her feelings for a little while longer.

  Why couldn’t she just admit to herself that she liked having him around? She liked heading out on missions with him and fighting demons with him at her side. That was why she had called him tonight. She enjoyed hunting with him, but not as much as she enjoyed the quiet nights when nothing happened and they just spent time together in silence, or talked about what was on their minds.

  She liked the fact he listened without judging her, and when she was done, he offered her all the reassurance that she would let him.

  She loved the comfort he gave to her.

  “Together,” she said with false resignation and, out of the corner of her eye, she saw him smile. An inferno blazed into life inside her. She had never made him smile before, not like this, not with so much happiness. “Just don’t get in my way.”

  His smile became a grin. “I would not dream of it.”

  Shannon was about to smile when something cold and wet grabbed her. She squealed as the demon lifted her from the ground and her legs dangled helplessly. Rafe punched it and his fist slid off the demon’s chest and hit her in the side of her head.

  “Thanks,” she muttered through a face full of clear slime and wriggled hard. The moment she slid free of the demon’s embrace, she turned and levelled a swift kick at the juncture of its thighs.

  Rafe winced.

  The demon made a noise that caused bubbles of slime to pop around its jagged mouth and then launched itself at her. Rafe grabbed it and slid across the grass with it. He growled and his eyes changed, turning pale blue and bright in the moonlight. Shannon didn’t think that brute vampire strength was going to help him hold the monster back.

  She punched it hard in the stomach, pulled a face of disgust at the cold slime on her hand, and then started pummelling it. Almost every punch that she landed slid off the demon. It didn’t even seem to notice them. It just kept ploughing forwards, dragging Rafe along with it.

  He growled again, leapt onto the demon’s back and wrapped his arm around its neck. He grinned at her when the demon choked. His victory didn’t last long. The demon grabbed his leg, yanked him off, and slammed him face down into the frosty grass. Rafe choked this time.

  Shannon attacked.

  She lunged at the demon with her stake. It grabbed her and then she was flying through the air. Her eyes widened when she saw the tomb an
d then she grunted when she hit it left shoulder first. Pain ripped through her entire body. She dropped her stake and grabbed hold of her arm, holding it tightly in an attempt to ease the pain. It throbbed so hard that every inch of her pulsed with intense heat.

  “Son of a bitch.” She gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut, waves of pain making her nauseous. She just needed a moment and then she was going to kill the bastard.

  “Shannon?” The note of worry in Rafe’s voice made her open her eyes. He was back on his feet, his attention wholly on her, and the concern in his gaze overwhelming. She nodded to let him know that she would live and waved him away towards the demon. He glanced at it and then back at her, and then shot through the darkness.

  She couldn’t keep up with him when he used his abilities to fight. He moved as fast as lightning, here one moment and there the next. The demon didn’t seem to be able to keep up with him either. It turned left and right, and then all the way around, exposing its back.

  Shannon glared at it, grabbed her stake, and then launched herself at the demon. It turned at the last second, caught her shoulder in one large sticky hand and tossed her back across the cemetery.

  Rafe didn’t fare much better. He hit the demon square across the jaw, knocking its head to one side, but didn’t get away fast enough. It grabbed him and smashed his head against a gravestone.

  “Rafe!” Shannon ignored the pain blazing outwards in sickening pulses from her shoulder and pushed herself onto her feet. She ran at the demon, her own feral growl on her lips as she watched it bashing Rafe’s head against the grave marker.

  She yelled, leapt and plunged her stake into the demon’s shoulder, burying it deep. The demon roared and tossed Rafe aside, turning on her at the same time. She glanced at Rafe, searching for a sign of life in him and telling herself that it took more than bashing his head against a rock to shut the vampire up.

  The demon yanked the stake out of its thick muscular green shoulder, regarded it with a low bubbling sound, and then threw it at her. Shannon rolled to one side, gritting her teeth when she landed on her injured shoulder, and crouched, ready to attack. Without a weapon. Her gaze darted to the stake on the grass and then her jacket on the sarcophagus. Both were over twenty feet away from her. Her nearest weapon was Rafe and he was still lying in the dirt, groaning.