Holidays Bite: A Limited Edition Collection of Holiday Vampire Tales

by Laura Greenwood

I touch it. “It is moss!”

  He laughs, the sound as warm and kind as I thought him to be initially. “Yes. Do you… think that weird?”

  “No! It suits you,” I assure him.

  “You know…” He gestures to my face. “You don’t have to put on the makeup to be beautiful.”

  I swallow hard. “Thanks. I think.”

  “You’re beautiful with and without, I mean,” he says awkwardly. “I, ah, didn’t mean to, ah…”

  “I know what you mean.” I giggle.

  “It’s, ah, not my business, but why do you wear it?”

  “I like… I want to be like a human at times. I don’t want to be so… so… I’m a living vampire, not a turned one. My eyes… They’re red. I hate them.”

  “You aren’t the only one to wear colored contacts. How do you get your eyes to be blue instead of purple?”

  “My eye doctor is a vampire. Most of the clients are too. She knows just the shade for me to wear so that my eyes are the shade I want them to be. I thought about violet eyes, actually.”

  “I think violet would suit you, but I like the blue.” Clover rubs the back of his neck. “I know you’re a vampire. I accept that. I think I just wanted an excuse to stop dating you because I couldn’t handle what my friends were saying. That has to make me sound…”

  “You weren’t sure about me then. You didn’t know me well enough, and I get that. Vampires get a bad rap, but some of it is deserved. I mean, we do drink blood, and we can compel people to do what we wish. I won’t ever compel you, though.”

  “I’m not worried about that. Your use of compulsion earlier, it helped to save people.”

  “And if you want to drink blood, if you need to, you can in front of me. I’m sorry it made me so squeamish before.”

  “I’ll wait until you’re ready for me to drink in front of you. Who knows? Maybe one day…”

  His eyes widen, and I realize I’m pushing my luck.

  My fork hits my plate, and I frown. I’ve already eaten my last bite.

  Without a word, Clover inches his plate toward me. He only has a few bites left, and we the rest of it together.

  Once we finish, I pat the napkin against my lips. “Oh! Does this mean we can have fried chicken with Aiko and Haru tomorrow?” I ask eagerly.

  “Are you sure you want to spend Christmas here and not with your family?” he questions.

  “I don’t mind seeing my parents on the twenty-sixth. What about you?”

  “It’s a date,” he says with a grin.

  I smile back at him, deliriously happy. Our mission succeeded, and I actually like my partner very much. Who knows how our second date will turn out, but I have a good feeling there will be a third and maybe a fourth and…

  This winter sure is magical already, and it has the likelihood of being my most romantic yet.

  The End

  Enjoyed this story? Be sure to leave a review! This story is a mini continuation of the Magical Hunters Academy Series, a part of my Mayhem of Magic World. Want to read the interconnected stories from the start? Then read the completed Bedlam in Bethlehem Series.

  About the Author

  Nicole Zoltack is a USA Today bestselling author who loves to write romances. Of course. She did marry her first kiss, after all!

  When she’s not writing about knights, superheroes, or witches, she enjoys spending time with her loving husband, three energetic young boys, and precious baby girl. She enjoys riding horses (pretending they’re unicorns, of course!) and going to the PA Renaissance Faire dressed in garb. She’ll also read anything she can get her hands on. Her current favorite TV shows are Game of Thrones and Stranger Things.

  Sign up for her newsletter to learn when her next book is released as well as excerpts, cover reveals, and giveaways!

  Join Nicole Online

  www.NicoleZoltack.com

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  * * *

  Read More of Nicole’s Books

  Bedlam in Bethlehem Series

  Magical Hunters Academy Series

  Age of Dragons Series

  Once Upon a Darkened Night Series

  The Queenmaker Series

  The Winged Beast Chronicles

  Magic Incarnate Series

  Beyond Boundaries Series

  Nicole Zoltack writing as N. M. Zoltack and Nicole Beyer

  Join N. M. Zoltack’s Newsletter here for information about new releases and special sales.

  In the Eye of the Dragon Series

  * * *

  Nicole Zoltack writing as Nicole Beyer

  Magical Awakening Series

  Blood Sealed

  Tina Glasneck

  About Blood Sealed

  Vampires have colonized America. Christmas is coming, and so is the annual culling.

  Vampires have mostly left Underwood's idyllic community alone, save for an annual lottery where the chosen are turned into ghouls or vampire food.

  When the lottery comes to Underwood, Sunny must decide to bow or fight back. The problem is, as a student of the local community college, Legacy Academy, she’s never killed a vampire and doesn’t have the faintest idea how to do it. Armed only with her determination and, joined by her motley crew of two wolf-shifters, a moody vampire, and a tech-savvy human, she’ll have to learn fast.

  Will she pick up the slayer mantle?

  Join Sunny and her squad as they strive to survive, push back against the powers that be, and fight for the survival of mankind in this slow-burn, new adult RH.

  The town of Underwood needs a vampire slayer for Christmas. Who will take up the stake? Find out in Blood Sealed.

  The slayer will rise,

  and love will she,

  uniting the tribes to destroy the oligarchy.

  She’ll take the best of all of the beasts

  and mold them into her weapon of peace!

  * * *

  ~Gift of the Slayer, Croatoa, 1590

  Prologue

  986 AD, Off the Coast of Newfoundland

  The bustling wind blew hard on the Viking merchant ship, pushing it closer to tree-lined hills and a white sandy beach. The men fought back against the ocean’s brutal waves, uncaring as to what they lost, as long as it was not their lives. To fall victim to the sea would not honor the gods, as they’d not made this trip toward the new Viking settlement to fall overboard and perish on some strange land.

  They prayed for Odin’s protection.

  He did not answer.

  Nor did Thor, Njord, or even Loki.

  This new place was foreign to the gods, one they’d not marked any of the local people with their holy seal. Instead, it would take a new alliance.

  Finally, a swelling wave crashed against the boat, knocking free a purple pouch that carried a Norsemans’ idols. Quickly turning the boat away, they broke free from the wind’s hold. The clouds parted, the sun shone and the men exhaled in glee. They’d survived another day.

  They were not the targets of the grand storm, though. All that rose and was carried on those cresting waves was that of a wine-colored pouch that held the sacred images of foreign gods unknown in this foreign land.

  With bated breath, the gods looked on, waiting around the eternal circle for the pouch to land. For entrance into this new place would require a human to carry them into the folds.

  “This plan of yours is ludicrous,” Freyja chastised Odin, whose face was set with concern. Deep wrinkles graced his war-god face.

  “I have seen what shall come to pass, and for us and this pantheon to thrive, we must find a way to continue, and that is here on this new land.”

  “A new land far away from the settlements where our believers sacrifice greatly for our attention, yet you turned a deaf ear to those in need.”

  “All for the greater good. I am willing to sacrifice that of twenty strong men, when a hundred more will enter the faith of us.”

  “Dearest Father,�
�� Thor interrupted, “I trust your vision, but we trespass without making an agreement with the gods of this land.”

  “Aye,” Odin agreed. “Usually, this would be the case, but it is through the heart of a child that our introduction shall be made. There.” He pointed as the image of a young girl entered the frame of the ship’s wreckage.

  The storm was long gone, and he knew that it would take the innocence of one to allow the conversion of many.

  A young girl, her ink-black hair blew with the wind’s gust. She searched for shells along the beach. She leaned into the hands of the invisible wind until she stood staring down at a sand-covered pouch, the rich purple peeking through the sand’s grains. She wiped away the sand, pulling the bag to the surface. Heavy, she opened it.

  Inside rested the small carved idols of Odin, Thor, and Freyja from the Norsemen.

  “Mama,” she called out and raced back to her mother’s side.

  “What have you there?” her mother asked.

  “Treasure,” the little one said, her sun-kissed face beaming with a bright smile, and held up the bag.

  “Whatever we find, we shall return to your father to assure that it is right for our people.” Her mother poured the idols into her palm. “Or to the shaman, as this is something I know nothing of.”

  Njord released a pent-up sigh.

  Odin watched on in glee. “The shaman will make the grand introduction, sealing both of our fates, for when the vampires rise, as I have seen, our united lines must produce a savior.”

  “Aye,” all of the gathered gods agreed. The continuation of all of their might and power now depended on that of a small child.

  “May the Norns bless us all,” Freyja said, and with bated breath, they watched on.

  This would seal their fates.

  Chapter 1

  Red Spring, twelve years ago

  The vampires responded with teargas to blind us. When they came, dressed in their black combat gear, we knew there would be no peace.

  Bright Christmas lights twinkled, and while old Christmas songs rang out from loud speakers, the sky exploded with rockets, lighting up the night. Red smoke wafted and mixed with a flash of the Molotov cocktails. The ground shook under the assault of bullets. They ricochet off of buildings, puncturing the concrete siding, leaving large gaping holes. Buildings cracked. Concrete and glass rained down upon humans below—including on my mother and me.

  They came with their biggest weapons—they came prepared for a war to fight against the human’s revolution.

  Tactical tanks rolled through, crushing everything within their path, while armed soldiers forced humans they’d captured to the nearby green space, pushing them to their knees. Some hung like wind chimes; others wore the evidence of one lone gunshot wound to the back of the head.

  My mom and I raced through the maze of massacred bodies, all wiped out in different ways. Many brave men responded with homemade weapons of pitchforks and machetes, but they couldn’t stand up against that of tanks and overhead armed helicopters.

  Nothing the humans did could stop the vamps from coming to cull the children, not even a bloody revolution.

  We had neither aerial assault possibilities, nor tank crackers. Neither guns, nor bombs. All we had were our hope and determination.

  My eyes burned, and although I wanted to rub them, instead, I tucked my face into my shirt like my mother said and gripped her hand tightly. With her vice-like hold, she yanked me further forward, dragging me behind her. My shoes barely skimmed the ground, but I stumbled on.

  People erupted in shouts, rushing out into the streets as if the fire from the sky above had afflicted them. Some people convulsed and writhed on the ground like they were possessed by an invisible power.

  Those same people screamed and tore at their skin, scratching and bleeding out. Men attempted to run away from their shadows, some going so far as to mutilate themselves as they argued with only what they could see.

  The vampires didn’t need to harm us; they’d crafted another way—us doing it to ourselves.

  “Look away, Sunny,” Mom commanded, and I nodded. Her hair was wrapped, tightly tucked under a black hooded cloak, and we hurried through the purging chaos we’d made. It was the sound of the horns that made us run faster.

  “After them.” I heard someone shout behind us.

  As fast as my eight-year-old legs could carry me, I ran. They, the boogie men, with their red eyes and pointy teeth, were going to get us. Vamps were the stuff of my nightmares. I’d never known one, seen one outside of their uniforms. They didn’t patrol my streets, pass out candy during parades, or become community figures. Instead, they lived in limestone towers in the city—a city now under siege.

  Automatic machine guns launched a barrage of bullets, cutting down those men around us—all stumbling and falling. Still, we ran. I chanced a glance over my shoulder. Behind us, the vamps moved in on tanks, crushing those people and anything else under their tracks.

  We raced through the streets until we reached the abandoned warehouse of the old silver mine, situated by a dry riverbed.

  My heart thudded; my vision blurred, but I knew enough to know that we only had mere seconds before the vampire soldiers would come in looking for us. The culling was tonight, and I was supposed to be on their list; it was ordered by the government, and no one was allowed to deny their precious order.

  But our town had done just that. They refused to send in their kids, and when the vampire army moved in, I didn’t understand. All I knew was that the V-emblem on their suits reminded me of hellfire, their cold and red eyes of what the devil must have been like—if he existed.

  Once inside, Mom moved to a far, dark corner, and pulled up a couple of wooden slats. The floor was covered in a silvery powder. She quickly rubbed the powder on my skin and her own, and together, we eased under the floorboards.

  The doors flew open, and bright lights shone into the warehouse from outside. Through the slats, I saw him, a monster of a man—large like a rhinoceros, with skin almost translucent. The floorboards creaked under the weight of this devil. He stepped inside and let out a scream. “Silver,” he shouted and hurried back out, but the doors didn’t close behind him.

  Instead, another vampire who reminded me of one of those fairy tale princes came forward. His blonde hair fluttered behind him, and his eyes were amber in color. With a mischievous grin, he raised his hand. “Light it up.”

  And like that, what had been a safe haven, turned into a burning nightmare.

  Chapter 2

  Present Day

  “Water is wet!” Tom splashed in the puddle, muddying up his already dirty clothes, but somehow still found a way to cling to the homemade ice cream cone he’d gotten from Mrs. Rivers. I giggled at his excitement.

  It had rained like Tom had wished. For once, the gods must have heard our prayers. Of course, we were lucky if we got twenty inches of rain per year, but it sure did make a nice puddle for the newly minted eight-year-old.

  The countdown was on, and turning one year older should have been fun, exciting for him, but all Tom wanted was two turtle doves. He didn’t seem interested in the small cake that we’d been able to make, or any sort of pomp and circumstance. It didn’t hurt that the holiday season was upon us. Everything was decorated in a garish crimson red and forest green to celebrate the Winter Solstice, renamed Sanguinary Day.

  The warm sun beat down on us. In this arid region, snow was a luxury that only existed much further north. Snow was something of a myth here, and instead, we were blessed with sunshine, dry air, and a gentle breeze.

  The landscape was dotted with cacti, boulders, and gravel, and other native southwestern plants like yucca, sage, and desert sunflower. The buildings looked cookie-cutter, the same with their beige stucco sidings and tiled rooftops. Life was serene here, up until it wasn’t.

  Rumors were circulating again that a vampire slayer was active.

  Most communities had urban legends, and Underwood wasn�
�t much different.

  Ever since I was a kid, I remembered hearing of this one slayer who was considered dangerous, but she’d kept us safe from any rogue vampires coming—mostly. Whoever she was, she did a good job. I’d made it to twenty without having to endure a threat of vampiric violence, either government sanctioned—what was known as the culling—or that of the vampire zealot who sought a human on which to feed.

  The last culling came during the Red Spring. Silver was what kept us safe that night, and the dry river bed had made it possible to escape the city. But not far enough. The culling seemed to follow us.

  That night, I learned what real fear looked like.

  Fear had fangs.

  The vamps came in swinging, stomping down the resistance, and breaking us. That day, they hauled off every dissenter. Those who made it back never seemed the same, and some raced to the Hidden Lakes for sanctuary, in the wild canyons and beyond. The vamps didn’t think too much of the wilderness.

  I shook my head and focused on my little brother. I wasn’t going to let Tom be disappointed either, even if his birthday did match up with the worst day of the year.

  “If you keep splashing, and we return home dirtier than we left, Mom is going to be upset and might even make you wash clothes this time.”

  We meandered through Underwood made up of old cottages, and to the one-story stucco building called The Store. It was the only place you could go and buy all that you needed without leaving the neighborhood or heading into town. We were lucky and still had some buildings, along with wooden houses that had seen better days. Not too far from here, they were relegated to tents.