Holidays Bite: A Limited Edition Collection of Holiday Vampire Tales

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Holidays Bite: A Limited Edition Collection of Holiday Vampire Tales Page 6

by Laura Greenwood


  This man had been crazy before he was ever turned.

  “Welcome to hell,” he sneered.

  Wolf and I moved in tandem as if we’d been fighting together all our lives. We separated to flank the vampire, taking turns lunging toward him, distracting him from the other’s attacks. I had hoped to disorient him enough to make him trip over his latest victim, who had crumpled at his feet, glassy eyes open over a rictus scream and a slashed throat that still bled sluggishly.

  It didn’t happen, though. He danced around her body without ever looking down at it. Under any other circumstance, I would’ve called him graceful. Even attractive.

  When he threw the flashlight away from himself, it bounced dizzyingly off the walls, holding my attention just long enough to allow him to do what he planned all along. Reaching behind him, he grabbed an open paper sack, hefted it in his arms and then twirled so that its contents sprayed outward.

  As he faced Wolf, I moved, jumping toward him and shoving a stake in through his back. An instant later, the dust from that sack blew out and settled on me.

  The apple-wood stake jerked in my hand as its supernatural properties grabbed it and sent it slamming through the vampire’s ribcage and into his heart.

  At the same time, the rest of dust in the bag settled on Wolf, who let out a howl, shook himself violently, and dropped to the ground, rolling around on his back. The vampire stiffened in the middle of his twirl toward me, but the dust kept flying. I realized I could still see him in the light of the flashlight. His gaze met mine and he spoke around the blood burbling out through his lips. “This is good—you die, too. See you in hell. Again.”

  With a last, hacking cough of a laugh, he fell on top of the pile of his own victims, joining them in their last resting place.

  I barely saw that, however.

  I was too busy trying not to die from the silver dust the son-of-a-bitch had coated Wolf and me with.

  The silver burned into me, burrowing like billions of tiny insects chewing their way through my skin. It was eating away at me like acid, and the more I rubbed at it, the more it seemed to sink in. I’d inhaled it, too, and my lungs were dissolving as I tried to breathe.

  The motherfucker hit Wolf, too.

  I tried to take a step toward him, but my knees gave way, and I toppled over.

  No. This is not how it ends.

  Pulling myself back up to my hands and knees, I crawled toward Wolf, who was standing on shaky legs and making his way toward me.

  My magic faltered, and I fought to hang on to the map in my mind—the only way we could possibly make our way back out of the mine. We were too deep to find our way back up by memory.

  But at least we had a light. I grabbed the flashlight in my raw, bloodied hand, flinching as more flakes of silver from the handle burned their way into me.

  We might both die from silver poisoning, but by God, we were not going to die in this dark hole. Not if I had my way. I used Wolf’s back to steady myself as I stood. “This way.”

  We staggered back toward the entrance, and I had just enough sense left to wonder why he had thrown silver on both of us. Wolf, I understood—everyone knows that werewolves react to silver.

  But me? I had done my level best to keep my silver allergy a secret, something only the people closest to me knew. That was the first thing I’d learned as a hunter—the cousins had to keep their metal allergies secret.

  Otherwise, the monsters would use it against us.

  If I survived this night, I’d have to figure out how the vampire had known to set that particular trap for me.

  Because I was certain it was a trap.

  Following that line of logic sent adrenaline flowing through me long enough to keep going.

  We made it to the entrance cavern just as I gave out.

  Wolf’s fur coat had protected him from the worst of the silver dust—but I knew it was too late for me. I was about to die. My arms and legs grew weak and once again, I fell to the ground. Wolf whined, nosing me, pushing me to get up again.

  “You go on without me. I think if you roll in the snow, you can get rid of the worst of it.” My insides were on fire, melting, and I leaned over to one side and vomited up blood.

  Wolf pushed at the plywood but was unable to open the door. I dragged myself along the floor, skin sloughing away from my hands, so I left a bloody trailed behind me. For an instant, I imagined my face melting away, like a scene from some old movie where the villains failed to look away from God’s vengeance.

  Wolf circled me, whining and crying.

  “You know,” I managed to say, “if you would just shift, you could do this yourself.” I hooked my fingers under the plywood and pushed, using the last of my strength to open the door to let my friend, my companion, my fellow hunter the werewolf, run free.

  As I collapsed back down and laid my melting cheek on the cool floor, I heard the distant sound of bells ringing.

  For a moment I was certain it was my imagination. That it was some kind of the heavenly host, come to take me away.

  But I was afraid the vampire was right—I wasn’t going to heaven when I died. Not when I hadn’t been able to save that woman tonight. Or so many others.

  I had failed so many people in my life that I had stopped counting.

  That wasn’t the sound of angels coming for me.

  But the bells were real. From somewhere in town, bells actually rang out—church bells tolling midnight, announcing that Christmas had arrived.

  A blue light flared around us, and again I was sure it was the end.

  This, though, was Wolf, finally shifting. He looked as surprised as I felt, even as my vision faded out and I lost consciousness.

  When I came to, it had only been a few seconds—the bells were still ringing a Christmas carol, something I knew I would recognize if only I could think straight.

  Wolf was now a naked, muscular, human man who swept me into his arms—his muscular, human arms—as he raced down the road from the mine back to the van.

  Some part of me knew he shouldn’t be able to move that fast, that the silver dust must be affecting him, too.

  But he did.

  With a supernatural burst of speed, he got us away from the mine and back down to the van, where he threw open the door before the bells had finished ringing and gently placed me on the platform bed in the back.

  “Blaize,” he said, his voice as deep and as beautiful as his eyes—his haunted, blue-white eyes, in that gorgeous face, framed with thick, dark hair. “You can’t leave me. Please don’t go. I need you to stay.”

  I opened my mouth, and he leaned down close to hear me when I spoke.

  “What’s your name?” I managed to rasp out.

  He drew in a breath to speak—and the clock tolled the twelfth bell.

  Again, the light that had glowed so brightly when he shifted flared around him. The edge of that magical glow caught me, and I burned in it.

  But this time, I wasn’t melting. Except for my eyes—in my half-delirium, I was convinced that the tears running down my cheeks were my eyes melting away.

  Still, it burned me almost as much as the silver had, searing something between us, a bond that only strengthened as I gazed into his eyes while his body reformed into the familiar shape of the Wolf I had traveled with since Tombstone.

  I reached out and buried my hand in his fur.

  A deep sense of safety washed over me, and I closed my eyes again.

  The next time I regained consciousness, Wolf was firmly back in his usual lupine form, and he was licking my face, whining anxiously.

  “Okay, okay. I’m awake. I’m fine.” I pushed his head away from my face. “You can quit now. You have dog-breath. Yuck.”

  Wolf humphed, but he backed off.

  I sat up on the bed, carefully assessing myself for any damage. Broken bones, oozing wounds, liquid lungs—I didn’t have any of them.

  The skin on my hands was whole again.

  That burning light had a
pparently also healed me—my bodily injuries, anyway. I glanced at Wolf. I wasn’t so sure about my emotions.

  A hard tremor wracked my whole frame, and Wolf moved back up beside me. I dropped my hand to his head, but that feeling of safety was gone. Someone out there knew about my silver allergy, and that could only mean trouble.

  I glanced at Wolf out of the corner of my eye, remembering the beautiful man who’d saved me and told me he needed me.

  That’s a whole different kind of trouble.

  Eventually, I’d have to deal with all of it. But first…

  I rubbed my eyes and checked my phone.

  Four in the morning.

  I’d been out for hours. During that time, Wolf had somehow managed to shut and lock all the doors. He was still vigilant, but his legs were shaking.

  He needed rest.

  And we both needed distance from … whatever had just happened.

  The vampire was dead. Creede was safe. Steve the cute blond clerk at San Luis Sports, Nanci at Rarities, even the guy who wouldn’t let Wolf eat enchiladas in his restaurant. They were all okay.

  We could go.

  “You ready to get the hell out of here?” I asked.

  Wolf gave a sharp bark and a nod, and I moved up to the driver’s seat to start the van. We could start driving and just not stop. Maybe head east this time, see if I could push the geographical boundaries of my curse that direction.

  This felt right, the two of us together on the road again.

  Still…

  “You know,” I said to Wolf, who jumped up into the passenger seat and settled in, “If we leave right now, we could make it to Tucson in less than twelve hours.”

  Wolf’s second nod in as many minutes decided it, and we headed down the road, leaving another dead monster behind us.

  As we drove through town, though, I couldn’t help but notice—none of the local churches had a bell tower.

  With a shake of my head, I brushed the thought away, picked up my phone with one hand, and dialed, knowing I’d be able to leave a message at this hour.

  “Hey, Daddy. Keep the lights on tonight. Looks like I’ll be home for Christmas, after all.”

  About the Author

  New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today bestselling author Margo Bond Collins is a former college English professor who, tired of explaining the difference between "hanged" and "hung," turned to writing romance novels instead. Sometimes her heroines kill monsters, sometimes they kiss aliens. But they always aim for the heart.

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  Read More of Margo’s Books

  The Vampirarchy Urban Fantasy Series

  The Shifter Shield Series

  The Unholy Alliance: A Devil of a Reverse Harem Romance Series

  The Abracadabra Apocalypse Series

  Tiny & Fierce (A Reverse Harem Sci-Fi Romance)

  The Khanavai Warrior Alien Bride Lottery Series

  Fangs in the Outback

  Mirren Hogan

  About Fangs in the Outback

  Preston Reed, self-proclaimed asshole, wine connoisseur, vampire. All he wanted was a Christmas meal. What he found in the Australian outback was trouble. Between him, his sister, his girlfriend and his boyfriend, they'll have to help some unlikely allies before time runs out for them all.

  Fangs in the Outback

  "Merry fucking Christmas, you bloodsucking motherfuckers." I raised my glass—wine of course. Drinking blood at Christmas is so passé. Okay, it's not, but I had none to drink, so wine it was.

  "Up yours, ya bastard." Benny grinned. He raised his own glass and almost sloshed beer over the rim.

  "Don't waste it," I growled at him.

  "Yeah, yeah." He waved a hand at me. Not the one with the glass in it. "What's up your ass anyway."

  "It's too fuckin' hot here," Imogen complained. She fanned her face with a sheet of paper folded into a fan.

  "You're a vampire, you're not supposed to feel the heat," I pointed out. She was right though, it was hot and sticker than a bloody neck. Whose dumbass idea had it been to come to Australia? Oh yeah, mine. Next time I had such a great brainwave, they should tell me to shut the fuck up. I'd ignore them, of course, like all good alpha vamps.

  "You didn't have to come," I added.

  Imogen looked at me through her dark lashes. "You always make me come. If you didn't, I'd be somewhere nice and cold, in front of a fire, instead of here."

  What was I supposed to do with that? I like to please my partners, but apparently I was the bad guy for it. What the hells?

  I jumped off the front of the car and scuffed my shoes in the dirt of the road. "We could stay here until the sun rises, or we could start walking." I stalked back to the broken down car, grabbed my bag and the bottle of wine, and started to walk.

  "Wait! Pres! Preston Reed, you stop right there!"

  I hesitated at the sound of Audrey's voice. Evidently she finally deigned to stick her head out of the car. I was in charge of this band, but sometimes I swear she thought she was.

  I sucked in a breath I didn't need and stopped, but didn't turn around.

  "What do you want, Aud?" I called out over my shoulder.

  "I hope you're not planning to leave without us?" I pictured her climbing out of the car, uncurling her long body like a cat.

  "Why do you care, sis?" I finally turned around and narrowed my eyes at her. The night was dark except the stars and moon, but with my night vision she was as clear as daylight.

  "We followed you to this shithole," she pointed out. "The least you can do is not ditch us the first chance you get."

  "You also didn't have to come," I said. She didn't have my bedroom skills as an excuse. I was a blood sucking vampire with a foul mouth and a tendency to drink too much wine, but I wasn't a monster. I would sooner stand outside in the sunshine than screw my own sister.

  "England got boring," she said in that tone that said she had beenalive for so long, nothing excited her anymore. I wasn't fooled. Nothing excited her for a hundred and sixty-two years. Give or take a decade.

  "Yeah, well you can push the car or you can start walking." I took a swig from the wine bottle and turned away.

  "Wait for me," Benny said in his usual cheerful way. Sometimes he sounded so happy I wondered why I turned him instead of killing him. When he trotted up to me and planted a searing kiss on my mouth, with a whole lot of tongue, I remembered. He was too fucking adorable for his own good.

  Imogen followed a few steps behind, her expression resigned compared to Audrey's sulky pout.

  "I like Australia." Benny took my hand and leaned against me while we walked. He smelled so good I was tempted to drag him off into the bushes and screw him silly. The only thing that stopped me was the prospect of literally walking in the sun. The idea of roast Preston was not appealing. It took me a good two months for all my skin to grow back the last time. It itched like hells in the meantime. Yeah, okay, I was young and stupid back then; at least eighty-three. Who didn't do stupid things in their youth, to prove their immortality? In my case, literal immortality. Until I met the wrong person with a stake, or pissed Audrey off one time too many.

  "It's nice and warm and you are here." He gave me such an adoring look I almost felt like a fraud. Don't get me wrong, I love him too, but sometimes I swear he worships the ground I walk on. I'm not sure I'm worthy of that much good regard. If I wasn't me, I would probably think I'm a massive asshole.

  "One of these days, Benny, I'm going to stake you myself," Audrey said.


  "Leave him alone," Imogen scolded lightly. I've never been able to figure out if she was scared of Audrey or not. She stuck up for Benny and even me, but she would often do what Audrey said faster than she'd listen to me. "He's harmless."

  "Harmless unless you're a tasty looking mortal." Benny smacked his lips.

  I snorted. He was about as intimidating as a plush toy penguin, but the comparison wasn't entirely accurate. He could rip out a throat with the rest of us. Just because he preferred animal blood didn't mean he wasn't a little bit badass.

  "Let's just find a building we can stay in until we can get a new car, and someone to eat." Audrey said, an audible scowl in her tone. I didn't have to look to know she walked with her arms crossed, lips pressed in a line. Pissed off Audrey at her best.

  "Imogen, is there anywhere close?" I asked. In England, we would have found a place by sniffing out the blood of someone, anyone. Here, the towns were so far apart nothing smelled like anything but dust and the occasional animal. We had to rely on her phone, which was as frustrating as it was emasculating… Or whatever the vampire version of having one’s abilities stripped away was.

  "We should have stayed in the city." Imogen pulled out her phone and tapped at the screen. "At least they had air conditioning there."

  "We should have stolen a better car," I said. I shot Audrey a sly look over my shoulder. I argued for taking more time to find one. She had insisted on the first black car we found. Black like her soul. Okay, and mine too, but a working car would have taken us to the next town.

 

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