“What do you want?” he asked when I removed my hand.
So much for terrifying him into obedience. Thankfully, his fear made him whisper the question.
“Get up. Get dressed and come into the other room.”
The other room wasn’t much larger, but it had the advantage of the outside window. Suddenly I needed outside air. The man’s blood was calling to me.
I stood at the window gulping in the night air through my nose as the thief pulled on some clothes in the other room.
Unlike Frank, he was resigned to whatever fate awaited him. There was no plotting or planning, just a calm dread and the sense that he deserved whatever he got. The self-loathing was still in ascendancy. Besides, the only way out of the apartment was through the front door, and I stood between it and him.
“I’m here,” he said softly as he came into the room.
I turned away from the window and pointed to the Michaelson’s gifts.
“You will re-wrap those. They are going back to their owners.”
His shoulders fell.
“Are you going to turn me in to the police?”
“Not if you do exactly as I say.”
He pointed to the pile of discarded wrapping paper on the floor.
“I ripped some of it getting it off.”
“Do the best you can, and do not forget to include the jewelry and cuff links you stole.”
I kept my responses short and stayed by the window and the fresh air. I had about reached my limit and I did not trust myself to say much more at the moment, as it would require taking in more of the human scented air from the room.
Frank Wallace’s study had been twice the size of the thief’s entire apartment, and he’d had a nice acrid smelling fire going whereas the thief’s coal fire had burned out.
The man sat dejectedly at the table, his fingers focused mainly on how to piece bits of ripped paper together and tie bows over them so that they would stay in place.
When the last gift was re-wrapped, he set it down and sighed.
“I’m done.”
“Not quite.”
Fear became apparent on his face; I could just imagine him wondering if he’d accidentally robbed the house of the Irish Mob. If only he could know and understand. This was just the sort of unlucky thing that happened to men like him. As the moment stretched, the smell of terror intensified.
I moved to cut off any additional line of thoughts of endangerment.
“I want you to write an apology letter to the family whose gifts you took,” I told him. “Don’t tell the family why you stole their gifts, just apologize for taking them.”
He stared at me, mouth agape.
“Do it!”
My sharp tone snapped him out of his mental fog. He walked over to a chest of drawers, found some paper and a pencil, and brought them back to the table.
He scratched his head, and then began to write.
I watched from the window as the words took shape on the paper before the thief.
I’m really sorry I took your presents. It won’t happen again ever. I tried to put the wrapping paper back, but it doesn’t look good. I hope you have a happy Christmas anyhow.
The pencil slowed to a stop, the tip pressing down on the last period.
“Should I sign my name?”
He was serious. It surprised me into a laugh.
“Not unless you want to go to jail,” I told him. “Just give it here.”
The room was so small that I didn’t need to move from the window to take the paper as he leaned over to hand it to me.
“What happens now?”
There was absolutely no hope at all in his voice, and he avoided my eyes as he asked the question. Again, I felt annoyed for making me feel sorry for him, but how else could I react to such a creature?
There was a basket in the corner of the room. Judging by the residual scents it was probably the one he used for shopping for his daily bread and other foods. I nodded to it.
“Put the gifts, jewelry and cufflinks in that and leave it on the table.”
He did it slowly then stepped away. I swung the basket handle over my arm and stared him in the face.
“What you did was very wrong,” I told him, feeling every inch the mother hen I had accused Madeline of being in my thoughts just yesterday. “I know you’re sorry for it, so I’m leaving you a little gift. Take what’s yours and burn the rest.”
Drawing Mr. Wallace’s folder and notebook out of my coat, I placed them on the table.
He frowned, puzzled, but didn’t dare speak.
I opened the door and prepared to ascend the steps to street level.
“Oh, and Merry Christmas,” I threw nonchalantly over my shoulder and exited.
A few drunks were weaving their way down the street, so I had to walk at human speed to avoid notice. I was halfway down the block before the thief, whose name I still didn’t know, yelped in joy. He’d finally found the courage to open the folder.
I made my way back to the Michaelson’s home with a smile on my face. The door was locked up tight, and I wasn’t about to disturb Rebecca or her son by ringing the bell, not in the middle of the night after a robbery. I laid the gifts on the porch and tucked the apology note under one of the ribbons.
With my vampiric speed, I rushed back home. A sudden, glorious thought coming to my mind. Upon opening the door I packed up my violin, its horsehair bow, and the Christmas sheet music Madeline had brought for me and made my way back into the city.
The sky began to lighten, signaling the coming dawn, as I returned to the Michaelson’s street. I stood beside the iron lamp post. A Christmas ghost among the swirling morning fog. I’d wait until just before full dawn then leave quickly in case the cloud cover decreased or the fog burned off. Sometimes morning dawned clear after a midnight snowstorm.
Footsteps echoed at the far end of the street. Curious, I raised my head from the sheet of music and caught the man’s scent. I began to play, very softly. Concerto Grosso in G minor, Op. 6, No. 8 by Arcangelo Corelli, known commonly as the Christmas Concerto. When the man came into sight, he glanced in my direction.
I saw that he was a bit taller than average with grey blue eyes, bloodshot, and sandy blonde hair sticking out from under a grey hat and shapeless overcoat.
As he went through the slush of the street, I did not move from my spot and continued to play softly, expecting him to walk past; but he surprised me by turning into the Michaelson house’s front gate. He paused on the porch, confused as his mind registered the gifts piled in front of the door. When he put his key into the lock it didn’t work.
Even more puzzled now, he lifted his hand and knocked, glancing up and down the street to reassure himself that he was at the right house.
So, this was Aiden.
Rebecca woke and ran down the stairs, moving aside the curtains of the parlor window to see who was at her door. Her face changed completely at the sight of her husband.
She threw open the door and practically fell into his arms, laughing and crying at the same time. Her motion was a mass of joy and relief.
Aiden’s movements echoed her joy, but registered bemusement at her reaction.
“Rebecca dear, I was only gone for three nights,” he murmured into her hair. The top of her head only came up to his shoulder, and she’d pressed her cheek against his chest. “And what are these gifts doing on the porch?”
“Gifts?”
She pulled back from her fierce embrace, only just noticing the pile at her feet. Her mouth opened into an ‘O’ of surprise.
“They’re back? Someone brought them back?”
Aiden shook his head as he knelt to pick up the basket of raggedly wrapped gifts.
“I take it there’s a story behind all of this?” he asked ruefully while standing up again.
She nodded and shivered in the open doorway.
“What was I thinking?” he asked himself rhetorically and nodded behind her. “Rebecca, please go ins
ide, you’ll catch your death of cold out here.”
A smile broke out on her face, the dimples appearing in each cheek. She noticed then the music and turned to look, but saw nothing through the darkness and Boston Fog.
“Nothing bad can happen when you’re here,” she said and the love and adoration in her eyes made Aiden go weak in the knees.
He leaned down and kissed both her cheeks gently, brushing his lips on each dimple.
“Come inside,” he whispered.
As the door began to close, I saw her look once more for the ethereal music as it drifted across the snowy street and heard her whisper a “Merry Christmas”. I fled as soon as the door closed behind them.
* * *
I was seated at the music stand, playing God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen when Madeline came through the door.
Her face was thoughtful on seeing me, but she couldn’t help the look of happiness at hearing me making use of the sheet music she had brought home.
“Welcome back,” I said lightly, continuing to play the song to the end.
“I almost didn’t make it back,” Madeline admitted. “Dr. McDonald nearly put us on the wrong train. We barely made it. I was hoping to be home by Christmas at least,” she continued, making a joke of it.
I knew she was wondering if I was softening my attitude towards this holiday. Who knows, perhaps I was beginning to see the value of Christmas?
“You could say that,” I answered her unspoken question.
I thought of Rebecca and Aiden, happily reunited with the prospects of gifts on Christmas morning. Even the thief would have a Merry Christmas because of me. I wasn’t entirely sure how I should feel about that, but if I were honest, I felt good.
“Did something happen while I was gone?” asked Madeline, trying to read the expression on my face.
“Let’s just say that I caught a little bit of the Christmas spirit,” I said and smiled.
* * *
The End
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About the Author
Joe is a Veteran of Operation Iraqi Freedom with the US Army. He spent time traveling in the Middle East and is also of Lebanese and Syrian descent. He has always loved to tell stories, be it verbally or written. But, after his time in Iraq, the writing truly became a therapeutic method to deal with PTSD. Joe currently lives in La Crosse, WI with his daughter, Anna Marie.
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Read More of Joe’s Books
A Pawn of Fate: Book One of the Order of the Sun Chronicles
Spell Casters: A Limited-Edition Halloween Collection
The Vampire And Dragon's Christmas
A Vampires Don't Share with Dragons Novella
Mandy Rosko
About The Vampire and the Dragon's Christmas
After the danger has passed, Katie White, a lowly cat shifter, is settling down nicely with her two mates: a brooding vampire and sexy dragon shifter.
* * *
Their first Christmas is here, and Katie wants to do everything possible to make it memorable while keeping her mates from bickering too much as they compete over who gives the best gift.
* * *
A vampire and a dragon may have learned to share, but that doesn’t mean it’s all smooth sailing.
Chapter 1
Chapter One
There were some things in the world that only a woman could convince a man to do.
For Alexandru Danesti, proud vampire, one of those things would be sharing her with a dragon shifter.
The other would be putting up with the Christmas decorations she insisted on tainting their home with.
He was by no means an environmentalist, but weren't there better things one could do rather than cut down pine trees and drag their dying carcasses inside before defiling them with ornaments and tinsel? Just to throw them out a few weeks later? The sight of them every year on curbs waiting to be taken away was depressing as all hell.
Not that Alex cared for the fake options. They still represented the strange traditions that the Christian humans embraced.
Vampires and Christianity didn't exactly mix in the most pleasant of ways.
Dragons either, for that matter, so Alex didn't understand why Frederick insisted on playing along with their mate's holiday fancies.
Alex sighed, popping a few handfuls of popcorn into his mouth.
For his kitty cat, it was all worth it.
Alex was unnerved, watching as Katie and the oversized lizard on their knees, laughing by the fire while they stabbed popcorn with threaded needles. Katie said they'd be putting the strung food on the tree, but Alex just ate his bowl. No point in sharing with a dying pine.
When the pair of them glanced his way, he knew he was in trouble. “Are you really just going to sit over there, sulking?”
“Not sulking,” he said, though now that he realized it, his corner of the room was shockingly dark.
“You’re eating all of our popcorn.” Katie pointed accusingly at him, though the smile on her face betrayed her amusement.
“Sharing is caring, isn’t that your phrase?” He dug into another large handful, letting his fangs out as he bit into the popcorn, eating it just as Frederick pushed himself to his feet and came over to snatch his bowl away.
“Come on, bloodsucker, get over here and help.”
“I’m supervising.”
“And drinking Katie’s hot chocolate,” Frederick replied. “And eating her popcorn, and being a grouch.”
“It’s our first Christmas,” Katie added, bouncing a little on her knees in a way that made Alex want her bouncing on something else.
“Come on, this can be fun.” Her smile was bright, her eyes lit up.
The fact that Katie was getting so much enjoyment from such simple activities wasn't lost on Alex. His mate didn't come from money. When he’d found her, she had been living in a tiny attic apartment, barely getting by and only narrowly avoiding becoming the target of abuse from humans who did not approve of shifters or other shifters who did not value the smaller animal shifters.
Katie was a house cat shifter. Not a majestic lion, not a wild cougar, not a proud panther, or even a beautiful tiger.
Just a simple house cat.
But it was enough for Alex and Frederick. She was perfect, and her being a smaller shifter had been more than enough to aid them when they had been in trouble.
Smaller household pets were more easily ignored, allowing them to slip in and out of places larger shifters would never be able to get into.
Alex would never forget Katie's bravery that day. Or Frederick’s reaction either. He was still figuring that part out, though it had been months ago. Now that Katie seemed willing to put the past behind her and celebrate with lights and gifts and decorations, Alex forced himself to not dwell on the more confusing aspects of their relationship.
“You need something to drink or what?” Frederick asked, his tone mocking, though when Alex searched for it, he didn't find the venom that used to hide in his words and tone. “I can get you something from the butcher if you want.”
“Freddie,” Katie warned.
The lizard ignored her. “Some nice pigs blood if you’re super parched.”
“He can feed from me whenever he needs to,” Katie said, not looking at either of them as she went back to puncturing popcorn with her needle.
Alex smiled at the very matter-of-fact way she said it. He adjusted himself in his seat, waiting for whatever snide remark Frederick had to follow it up with.
Silence followed. Frederick had nothing.
It was a pleasure to watch the dragon pout.
“Thank you, sweetheart. It means everything to know that my blood match would not leave me wanting.”
Frederick growled at him, and Alex soaked it in as though it were nourishment.
“All right, boys,”
Katie said, getting to her feet. She wiped her hands on her jeans before pressing herself against Frederick’s side.
The way a cat would.
She stretched up onto her toes, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“Behave,” she said with a soft purr, tapping him on the nose and then turned her attention to Alex.
It was in her eyes, in the way she moved, how her body seemed to dance those last two steps towards Alex, that gave away the feline in her.
He still couldn't believe he hadn't put it together when they’d first met, when he’d first tasted her...
She leaned over him, but instead of a kiss on the cheek, she pressed her lips to his.
While the kiss lasted for only a few precious seconds, it was more than enough for Alex to slid his hand to the small of her back, whilst his other hand lifted up a single finger for their third to glare at.
Alex soaked in the combination of Katie's passion and Frederick's annoyance as though he were taking a long drink after weeks of abstaining from blood.
Then Katie pulled back, her lovely eyes half-lidded, her lips pulled up at the corner with a catty smile before—
The sudden smack to the side of his head left him dazed. Not because it hurt, Katie had barely grazed him, but because he had not seen it coming.
“I know what you’re doing.” She lovingly brushed her fingers through Alex’s hair. “Don’t be an asshole to each other.”
Taking him firmly by the chin, she kissed him again, on the mouth one more time, but harder.
She pulled back while he was still shocked, smiling again. “I’m going to make some more hot chocolate. Don’t go killing each other while I’m gone.” She all but bounced out of the room. Alex and Frederick watched her go.
Frederick whistled, then laughed. “She got you good.”
Holidays Bite: A Limited Edition Collection of Holiday Vampire Tales Page 83