“Oh, don’t be so happy: you’ll see him soon,” Angelica promised, firing off a third shot, and this one didn’t miss. It hit her in the upper right chest, blood mingling in her long, fair hair.
Cailleach screamed in rage, a wordless cry that echoed in the eerie, snow-covered silence. She waved a hand in the air, and, faster than naturally possible, thick clouds gathered and snow began to fall in great rushes of fat, wet flakes. Heavy snow. The kind that could bury and kill a person.
“Stop this!” Angelica commanded, getting to her feet. “If you’re so invincible, face me head on.”
Cailleach giggled, and the snowstorm turned into a light dusting from the clouds, but the damage was done. Angelica stood nearly knee deep in fresh powder, and Danny was up to his waist, as he was still sitting when the storm began.
“Fine. But if you plan on winning, make sure you do so before your little blood bag over there freezes to death.”
Sean knocked on Angelica’s office door, but there was no reply. “Angie!” he bellowed to be heard beyond the thick, wood door. “This is no time to be screwing your bushand on your desk; you asked me to do something, damn it!”
No answer, not even from that bearded Neanderthal Angelica called a husband.
“This is not good,” Sean muttered to himself. He tried the doorknob, knowing that if he was right, she’d shoot him for walking in without admission.
The office was empty, but Danny’s winter coat was on the back of a chair, and the gloves and hat were on the seat.
I was just in the library, they’re not there. Where the fuck are they?
He glanced around, but could notice nothing disturbed. And he knew enough to know that a vampire and a human cannot vanish into thin air. Pressing her name, he called her cell phone. It clicked on, since she wore that earpiece, but there was nothing but static.
“Damn it!” He tossed his phone unceremoniously onto her desk, and it began to emit a high pitched, incessant beep. He accidentally activated the tracker on Roman’s now useless phone.
“How is it still in this office?” he asked aloud. The GPS said he was practically standing on it. The flashing red light pointed directly ahead and about two feet to the right.
“Why would she keep his phone in her desk?” he asked as he walked closer. Deep down, he knew she’d murder him if she discovered he snooped in her desk without permission, but what else could he do? He had to stop that beeping.
Squatting down, he went to open the bottom drawer. Disorganized papers, a copy of her gun permit, a forgotten Reese’s Cup wrapper that had to have been from her days as a half vampire, and a flyer for a Kill Hannah show in 2003. No phone.
As he closed the drawer, it caught on something, like something fell behind it and prevented the wheels from moving.
“Gotcha.” He pulled the drawer all the way out and reached in back, feeling something … soft. Stuffed.
“That better not be a dead animal,” he said as he yanked. Out came a cute little wrapped bundle, stuffed with cotton and tied with a white and blue ribbon. It was a crude parody of a doll, the likes of which he used to see kids in his village in the 1600s carrying.
Stuck to the back of the doll was the SIM card he tracked, the one that was supposed to be in Roman’s phone.
“Motherfucker.” He sat back on his haunches. “Roman was keeping track of the doll, same as I did to him.” Immediately, he dialed Angelica again.
She picked up, but there was so much wind and static, he wasn’t sure if she could hear him.
“Angie, I got it! I got the fucking doll!” he yelled.
“Sean? You’re sure?” she cried, sounding like she was struggling with something.
“What do I do with it?”
“Go to the incinerator. Pour some holy oil in, and drop it only when I tell you. Got it? Stay on the line. If I lose you, call again and keep calling, you hear me?”
More static came, so much so he had to hold the phone away from his ear. “Angie?”
Angelica wanted to pull her right ear off. Cailleach’s wind attack was extremely targeted on her Bluetooth, but she couldn’t let it go. Her connection to Sean was worth more than gold at that point. She held it in with her left hand, while re-aiming her gun in her right.
“Is a phone call more important than your life?” the witch asked.
“No, but it’s more important than yours.” She shot, the bullet hitting Cailleach in the kneecap. The crack echoed, and blood spurted like a fountain. The witch fell to one knee with a cry, more of anger than pain.
She waved her hands and the lake began to crack behind her, ice shards rising from the frozen lake. She waved them again, and they all made their way towards Angelica.
She did a tuck and roll, but didn’t escape all of them. A chunk of her cheek was torn, cold blood rained down her chin and neck, and her calf was sliced straight up. She could stand, and the wounds would heal, but they hindered her speed and mobility.
More shards came, but this time she missed them all by centimeters, leaving trails of blood in the pure white snow. Was this not life-or-death, she would have thought it looked like macabre art.
To buy herself a moment, she used her left hand and tossed a short blade at Cailleach. Typically, blades not meant specifically for throwing did not hit their marks, but when a vampire with two centuries of training was doing the throwing, all bets went out the window.
The blade embedded itself in Cailleach’s liver and she groaned, doubled over. “You little demon!”
“Vampire. I hate demons.” Angelica got to her feet, favoring the uninjured leg, and shot the fifth bullet right into the base of Cailleach’s throat.
She gurgled and sputtered, blood pouring from her mouth, but yet, she smiled. She wasn’t dead or dying, so Angelica had yet to win.
The vampiress could sense Cailleach’s smug satisfaction, but the witch had no idea who she was actually facing.
“You think you won?”
Cailleach smiled, teeth stained and dripping red.
“Think again. Sean, NOW!” Please, oh please, be on the other line!
There was a whooshing sound and Cailleach’s smile turned into a grimace of pain. From the center of her chest burst bright blue flames, reflecting off of the freshly fallen snow. Cold flame. The flame that gave her her powers and her life.
She screamed, clawing at her chest, but it did her no good. The frozen flame fully engulfed her until she stood motionless, encased in ice.
Angelica ran to the goddess and drew her sword. Like anything flash-frozen, the moment the tip of the blade pierced the ice, Cailleach shattered into thousands, perhaps millions, of pieces, fragments so small and fragile, they turned to dust as they hit the ground.
The wind would take the pieces and scatter them, releasing her spirit to wherever it was meant to go. It was over.
Angelica sighed in relief and turned; by her timing, it was less than half an hour, and Danny should be all right. To her surprise, he was on his feet, though he was incredibly woozy, and his lips looked blue. Snow settled in his hair and beard, giving him a Saint Nicholas-esque appearance.
He held onto her, and she supported most of his weight. She could feel him chuckle more than hear it.
“Never thought I’d say it, but Angelica Mancini saved Christmas.”
Chapter 10
Crowley’s was packed, wall-to-wall bodies, all celebrating not only the conglomeration of holidays, but the defeat of Cailleach. Danny was convinced the place was magically enhanced to hold so many people. Decorations from all regions and religions decorated the walls, ceiling, tables, chairs, even the bar. They had holiday themed cocktails, and somehow Angelica hooked a famous rock band to play. Even Sean got onstage and sang some Hanukkah based songs while the lead singer took a break.
Watching a bunch of long-haired, heavily tattooed guys wear Santa hats and sing “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” was equally awkward and amusing for Danny.
Knowing she liked showin
g up late to make an entrance (and then proceed to fade into the background), he glanced towards the door for Angelica. When she entered, even the somehow on-key version of “The Christmas Song” faded into mere noise. All he could see was his gorgeous wife.
She didn’t buy the plaid dress at the mall. Rather, she wore a sleeveless velvet mini-dress with a corset waist, trimmed in white fur, with an attached hood. The dress came to mid-thigh, and the rest of her legs were encased in red and white striped stockings with green bows. A matching green bow was around her throat. She wore shiny, blood-red ankle boots and red leather, fingerless gloves, also adorned with a green bow.
“Holy shit,” came from the stage behind him, and he echoed the sentiments.
“Who needs presents when I get to unwrap this tonight?” he asked as she made her way into his arms. When she kissed him, he felt like he was drunk.
“I’ll remember that for next year,” she said, kissing him once more.
“Ladies and gentlemen, why don’t we give it up for the woman who saved the holidays? Angelica Mancini!” the singer shouted.
Everyone in the bar cheered, and Sean gave a loud wolf whistle. Angelica’s cheeks turned a faint pink and she held on tight to Danny.
“Come on, Sean and Danny helped just as much as I did,” she downplayed.
“You kidding? You had your face sliced off and still killed her,” Danny said. “Our Christmas angel.”
As the night wore on, the band took a break and a DJ set started, and everyone exchanged holiday gifts.
Angelica bought Danny a collector’s edition vinyl of The Doors’ Morrison Hotel, a custom leather jacket with his initials stitched on the breast, and a tiny plush bat key fob with her initials.
She squealed with delight at his presents and had him pin the brooch on her immediately. Equally, she loved Sean’s gift of the snake skeleton, and the singer for the band gave her an atrium. Danny peered inside and yelped.
“What the fuck?”
“Isn’t she cute?” Angelica asked.
“She” was an apparently dead, dyed tarantula as big as Angelica’s face.
“Thank you, Finn, she’ll look great next to Lestat.” She gave the man, Finn, a hug, which he returned, while Sean gave Danny a knowing smirk.
Well, at least now Danny knew who gave her that damned bat.
Christmas Eve turned into Christmas Day, and Angelica accompanied Danny to Midnight Mass at his church. She couldn’t take communion or touch the holy water, but she was fine to sit in the pew and pray and sing with everyone else. She always loved the Christmas service ever since she was a little girl in England.
Growing up, all she saw in the decades that passed, she appreciated the peaceful beauty even more, and the fact that there was Someone born to save her and everyone else from the horrors out there in the world.
There, she was safe, and so was Danny.
Back at home, she and Danny lounged on the floor before the seven-foot-tall Christmas tree, decorated simply with white lights and silver ornaments, a glowing angel at the top. It smelled like balsam and the baking Angelica did the day before to give to the Children’s Hospital. Snow fell lightly outside, and as she gave her husband a kiss under the mistletoe he held, she knew one thing was true:
It truly was the most wonderful time of the year.
* * *
The End
Enjoyed this story? Be sure to leave a review! You can read more about Angelica in the latest standalone novel, Vampire Blood and Iron Bullets!
And be on the lookout for Finn in the upcoming novel Make Me Bad, due autumn 2021.
About the Author
Lily Luchesi is the USA Today bestselling and award-winning author of the Paranormal Detectives Series. Her young adult Coven Series has successfully topped Amazon's Hot New Releases list consecutively. She is also the co-owner of Partners in Crime Book Services, where she offers a myriad of services alongside her business partner Annie Smith, including editing.
She was born in Chicago, Illinois, where many of her stories are set. Ever since she was a toddler, her mother noticed her tendency for being interested in all things "dark". At two she became infatuated with vampires and ghosts, and that infatuation turned into a lifestyle. She is also an out member of the LGBT+ community.
When she's not writing, she's going to rock concerts, getting tattooed, watching the CW, or reading comics. And drinking copious amounts of coffee.
She also writes contemporary books for adults as Samantha Calcott.
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Read More of Lily’s Books
The Paranormal Detectives Series
The Coven Series
Heavy Metal Horrors Series
Lily Luchesi writing as Samantha Calcott
The Poison Pleasures Series
Bloodspell
The Vampire Mistress
Crimson Kiss
N.J. Ember
About Crimson Kiss
As the holiday season approaches, a secret vampire organization resurrects an old enemy in hopes of saving their future. But will a past romance be enough to stop her from seeking a bloody vengeance?
This story is dedicated to author Rachel Caine. I will always be a proud Morganville resident.
Chapter 1
With this one act, Cosette condemned herself to death. There was no room for sentimentality in damnation, but standing in the graveyard with its withered, snow-dusted cypress trees and the quaint church not far off, she was struck by it. It hadn’t changed much since her last visit here. The choir was singing Mary Did You Know? The sound was easily distinguishable for her, even at a distance. Such a hopeful melody marred by their wicked agenda.
She shivered. This place haunted her dreams and her nightmares with equal ferocity, but each incarnation held one commonality at its heart. Her.
The whirring of machinery made her stomach twist and she grew more lightheaded as the coffin was carefully lifted from its grave, slowed by the winter chill. When it was finally brought to the surface, Cosette swooned, the sky swaying a little as she stumbled backward into Thierry.
He caught her with a gentle, but firm, hold on her lower back. Julian shot her a disgusted look.
“Really Cosette, such weakness is disgusting for someone of your standing. Have you learned nothing?” he said.
Thierry hissed, his lips drawn back just enough to show a hint of his fangs. Cosette raised a gloved hand to his jaw, caressing the stubble there. “Calm yourself, pet. Julian’s insults haven’t yet wounded me in over two hundred years, though it is cute how he tries.”
Julian scowled. “I told the Consortium you were too emotional to be allowed to join. The very fact that you opposed this—”
Cosette clenched her teeth. She would not be baited, but she allowed a bit of steel to coat her words. “There is no Consortium without me, and there is no hope of longevity without her. Have you forgotten why?”
Rather than admit defeat, Julian looked away. No, she thought not.
The truth was, blame could be lain at the feet of every vampire, but it was only her sins which had brought them here. Cosette knew she would find a way to save Thierry and the others, but she also knew salvation came with the death of every member of the Consortium. Especially Cosette.
Still, very few immortals received the gift of choosing their end. Even rarer was it done at the hands of someone they loved.
Cosette stilled as they began prying open the coffin lid. She couldn’t bring herself to do it. Not yet. She turned away from the sight.
“Thierry, it’s time to go. Take us home,” she said.
Thierry held the door open for her as she brushed snow off her chinchilla fur wrap, slipped it from around her and handed it to him. Her red velvet dress l
ay off her shoulders, and he kissed the sensitive skin at the crook of her neck.
“Home again, home again,” he murmured, wrapping his hands around her hips.
She chuckled and stepped out of his hold. “Patience.”
Cosette climbed the polished walnut staircase. She passed each of the bedrooms until she came to the one she was looking for. She didn’t bother to knock as she walked in. “Adam, we’re going to have Christmas.”
She spent the long drive from the cemetery contemplating something to soothe her conscience, but hadn’t known what she wanted until she entered the house. What she wanted was a different nostalgia. One that would take her back to the simplicity and safety of childhood. Christmas was a time for family, a time for hope and happiness, a time where troubles are kept at bay for a day. Cosette wanted one last moment of happiness.
She stopped short. Her eyes widened and her lips parted with a soft gasp. Adam wasn’t alone. He was sprawled naked across his California king bed, his lower half hanging off it while a young man kneeled between his legs. A mischievous smile lifted the corners of her mouth.
“Oh. You’ve got company,” she teased.
Adam struggled to speak in between pants. “Yes, and we’re busy. So can you get out already?” he groaned.
Cosette sauntered over to stand behind Adam’s guest. He tried to get up but she gripped his hair and pushed his head down. Adam exhaled sharply.
“Don’t mind me. I always did like to watch,” she said.
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