by Kristie Cook
“Where is your daughter?” I dared to ask.
The woman turned toward the room I’d just run from. The door opened and children came out of it, big smiles on their faces.
“Did you see that?” one of the boys said excitedly.
“It just appeared in my lap out of nowhere!” said another as he pushed the wheels on his wheelchair. A toy sat in his lap.
“There she is,” said the woman next to me as Owen, still dressed as Saint Nick, came out of the room with a little girl holding his hand. The little bald girl who’d called me pretty. My eyes cut to the woman’s face. She’d plastered on a smile when her little girl saw her and ran for her. The smile became real and filled the woman’s eyes as she scooped her daughter into an embrace.
“Mommy, Santa said I could be his elf when I grow up,” Loraleigh said, her little voice practically a squeal. “Just like this pretty one!”
She looked at me with those big brown eyes. The cancer in her bones and blood smelled rank. I wasn’t an expert or anything, but the odor was so strong, I didn’t know if she’d even make it to this Christmas, let alone see any in the future. Days. I’d had centuries already, and this little angel only had days left.
“Owen, we need to find Tristan,” I said.
Chapter 4
“Tristan can’t heal her,” Owen said as soon as we were out of earshot of Loraleigh’s mother.
“Why not?” I demanded as we strode down the hallway to the storage room, where we’d flash.
“For one, she’s Norman and a teeny-tiny one at that. The potency of his blood could kill her. For two, we don’t know exactly how it works except that his DNA heals injured cells. For all we know, it could give more power to cancer cells, especially if they’ve been hit with radiation. We don’t know what will happen because, for three, Tristan couldn’t possibly go around trying to heal everyone in this world who has cancer, which is where this could lead.”
“I’m not talking about everyone. I’m talking about this one little girl.”
Owen placed a hand on my shoulder, stopping me in my tracks. He turned me to face him, and his blue eyes pierced into mine. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why her?” His voice softened. “What makes her more special than any of those other kids in that room today? So special that big, bad Vanessa even wants to help her.”
I frowned. “I don’t know. I’m new to these emotions. I don’t know where they come from or why. I just know I have to do something for that girl and her mother. They don’t deserve this. They’ve been fighting for so long. They deserve peace and happiness. And Loraleigh—that’s her name, I know her name—she’s not gonna make it, Owen. And her mother’s going to be left behind!”
Owen’s hand moved from my shoulder to my cheek.
“Then they’ll have their peace,” he said quietly. I jerked my face away from him and shook my head. “It’s God’s will, Vanessa.”
“How?” I asked. “How could God will this? I thought He was merciful. Or has Sheree been feeding me a bunch of bullshit?”
“There’s a reason for everything, even when we don’t understand what it is.”
I shook my head harder. “No. I don’t believe it.” I placed a hand on my hip and jutted my chin out. “You and everyone else talk about there being a reason for everything. Well, maybe there’s a reason I met Loraleigh and her mother today. Maybe I’m supposed to do something for them. Help them somehow.”
His eyebrows jumped and a smile twitched on his lips. “Okay. I’m game. So what are you going to do?”
I blinked. I didn’t know that answer. What could I do? I could turn her, but that wouldn’t be doing her any favors. Nor her mother. She was too young anyway, but even if she were older, giving her an eternity as a vampire was no gift at all. If Tristan’s blood couldn’t heal her, then mine definitely couldn’t. So what did I have to offer this girl and her mother?
“There must be something I can do. Something I can give them. They only have a short time together, and there’s nothing I can do about that, Owen!” Tears stung my eyes. Again. I turned my back so he wouldn’t see and opened the storage room door.
“Maybe not, but maybe you can make it last as long as possible. Get them through Christmas, at least. Make it the best Christmas they’ve ever had ...”
I spun back around and threw my hands in the air. “How does that help? In the end, Loraleigh still dies and her mother is left with nothing.”
“Not nothing. She’ll have memories to hang onto. Good ones. That’s all we really want, isn’t it? Good memories with our loved ones. That’s what life is all about.”
I thought about baking cookies with Blossom and the happy memories she shared of previous Christmases. I recalled all of the movies Sheree made me watch, while she reminisced about watching them with her family. Trees and Secret Santas and Random Acts of Kindness ... All of it had been about traditions. Remembering old memories and making new ones. Owen and I were dressed like Christmas freaks right now because he wanted to create good memories for kids who needed them.
“That’s what Christmas is all about,” I murmured as the truth hit me.
“So what are you going to do?” Owen asked at the same moment an idea occurred to me.
“We’ve gotta go!”
And with that, I flashed my way back to the shield around the Amadis Island, and then swam at vampire speed. Water still dripped from my clothes when I entered the trinket shop. The snooty witch from earlier waved her wand to dry my clothes, then glared at me for daring to return.
“I’d like to buy the music box,” I said, hoping Owen would work with me to cast the appropriate spell. Hopefully, he was strong enough—the Amadis didn’t have a more powerful mage.
“I’m sorry. It’s been sold.”
“What?” I stomped to the back of the store, thinking she was lying to me because she simply didn’t want me to have it. But it was gone. Shit. There went my plan.
Without a word, I flashed to the mansion and hurried to my suite before anyone saw me. Or, more accurately, saw the tears that were about to spill. Damn, I was turning into Alexis.
Just as I had earlier, I threw the door open and stomped inside ... and stopped. Another present from my Secret Santa: the silver music box.
“I take it you thought of something,” Owen said from behind me.
I turned to find him leaning against the doorframe again. “You’re my Secret Santa, aren’t you?”
He laughed. “I’m not that sneaky.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Okay, I can be,” he said with a shrug. “But no, it’s not me.”
I didn’t know if he told the truth or not—he didn’t smell like he was lying but a mage could cover that—but I didn’t have time to worry about it right now. Loraleigh’s life was ticking away. I picked up the music box and handed it to him.
“Can you make it work? The way it’s supposed to?” I asked.
“Sure,” he said easily. “Where do you want the portal to go?”
I shared my plan with him, and we made our way back to the hospital. It was the middle of the night here and visiting hours were over. Owen threw a cloak over us, and we snuck upstairs to Loraleigh’s room. Her mother slept in a cot in the corner, but the little girl didn’t. She stared at us from her bed as if she could actually see us.
“I knew you’d come back to see me,” she whispered. “You’re so shimmery now, though. Am I dreaming?”
I looked at Owen, but he shrugged. I uncorked the blood bottle.
“Just a few drops,” Owen said, his voice only loud enough for my vampire ears to hear.
I nodded, and then dipped my finger into the bottle. With it covered in blood, I held my finger over Loraleigh’s mouth. She licked her lips when the blood dropped on them, then swallowed.
“That will make you strong,” I said, keeping my voice low.
“Like you?” she asked.
“Maybe. But it will only last for a
few days. When you get bigger, though, you’ll be very strong, too.”
She gave me a sleepy smile, then dozed off. Owen set the music box on the table next to her bed and cast his spell.
We remained cloaked right outside the room as we waited for Loraleigh and her mother to wake up. As soon as they did, they must have seen the music box and opened it because the melody flowed through the room. The little tune was immediately drowned out by gasps and squeals and laughter in a variety of voices as their family came through the portal.
“Loraleigh, where did this music box come from?” her mother asked, amazement in her voice.
“From Santa and his elf,” the little girl replied. “They brought me the best Christmas ever!”
Of course, her mother would never believe her. The door to her room opened, and the woman stuck her head out to look up and down the hall. Not able to see us, she went back in, shaking her head as she shut the door.
Owen put a muffle over the door before we left.
“That was a great thing you did,” he said when we were back at the mansion. He took my hand and pulled me into the parlor. “They’ll never know it was you, though. Nobody will ever believe her.”
I shrugged. “That’s exactly how I want it. We were her Secret Santa and gave her the best Christmas ever. That’s all she wanted.”
“Sounds like someone doesn’t suck at Christmas anymore,” Blossom said as she entered the room.
“You get it now, don’t you?” Sheree asked, following the witch in.
“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” I said with an eye roll. “But don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation to maintain.”
“We wouldn’t want anyone to know Vanessa has a warm spot in her heart,” Owen chided.
“Exactly,” I said as my eyes flitted to movement outside the doorway.
“Don’t you want to know who your Secret Santa is?” Blossom asked.
Katerina Ames, the Amadis matriarch, the woman who had been my enemy my entire life, stood outside the door, wearing a green silk gown. She peeked in at me with a knowing look in her doe-like brown eyes, and everything made sense. Only two people in the world could have heard my thoughts while I was browsing in the village and either of those people could have supplied the blood in that bottle, but only one really believed in me. Only one would have gone through this much trouble to prove that I was worthy—to myself more than anyone.
“Nah,” I said in answer to Blossom’s question although I didn’t break the hold Katerina had on me. “It’s not the who or what that matters, right? It’s what we can do for others to pay forward the original gift of this holiday.”
Everyone in the room stared at me, and I could feel their disbelief. But still my gaze remained locked on the woman in the foyer.
“Very good, Vanessa,” Katerina spoke in my mind. “Not everyone discovers the real meaning of Christmas so quickly. I do think you are where you belong.”
I gave her the slightest of nods, although I wasn’t so sure about that last part. “Belonging” could take time, but I felt that I’d made real progress.
“I’m not sure I like you so sappy,” Sheree said.
“Yeah, it’s kind of weird,” Blossom agreed.
I turned to look at them, then at Owen. He made a face. “It doesn’t really suit you,” he said, but he followed it with a wink.
“Don’t worry, it’s not permanent,” I snapped at them all. “And if you tell Alexis I’ve gone weak, I’ll bite each and every one of you until you beg me for mercy.” My eyes darted to Sheree, and I shuddered. “Except you. That’s disgusting.”
They all thought that was hilarious, but I was completely serious. Especially about biting Owen. In fact, I’d take whatever excuse I could get to do that. Maybe now, just maybe, he’d let me. A girl could always hope for a miracle. It was Christmas after all. And after doing what I’d done for a Norman girl I’d never met before, I was walking proof that miracles do happen.
PRESENCE
Finally, we get to peek in on Tristan and Alexis in this final story of the Christmas collection, Presence. Once again, I ask that you try not to fit this anywhere in the main series. It won’t fit. It’s a lovely and romantic—and steamy—piece simply for you to enjoy with a scene readers have been begging me for. But don’t worry if you think you’ll be spoiled because you’re not caught up: it’s just made up stuff (as compared to the main series, which, you know, is real…)
Chapter 1
A curtain of coppery hair fell over my face as the woman of my dreams leaned over and pressed her mouth against mine. Soft and supple and, as always, tasting like brown sugar. I couldn’t have asked for a better way to wake up, and if my long life ended this second, I’d die a happy man. My tongue pressed against her lips, urging them to part, but I felt her pulling away instead. So I wrapped my arms around her petite body, caging her in, and rolled over on the bed, flipping her to her back. I braced myself on my forearms to support most of my weight as I lay on top of her.
“Tristan,” she admonished, her brown eyes bright and full of fake outrage. “I have to go.”
Noticing that she was fully dressed in black jeans and a purple sweater while I was still in bed, I frowned.
“Do you really think I’d let you go with a simple peck?” I asked before leaning in and nuzzling my face in her neck. I inhaled her sweet scent before hovering my mouth over her ear and flicking the lobe with my tongue before sucking it. She let out a gasp that sounded like a mix between a giggle and a moan. I instantly grew aroused at the sound. When I pulled back to look at her, she wore the same dazzling smile that stole my heart the first time I ever saw her—as an adult, anyway. “I think you need a proper goodbye.”
I dove down again, this time my mouth on hers, my lips pulling her full ones open.
“My ... mom ... is ... waiting,” she said between kisses, while at the same time tightening her arms around my neck and pulling me closer. I shifted my weight onto one arm, slipped my free hand under her sweater, and grasped her waist. I deepened the kiss, and she indulged me as my thumb slid over her ribs and grazed the bottom of her perfectly round, perfectly soft tit.
The next thing I knew, I was on my back staring up at her. She’d flipped me over and now straddled my hips. I groaned when she rubbed against me, and her eyes widened while she popped up on her knees.
“Sorry,” she gasped although that smile played on her lips.
“You’re such a tease,” I grumbled. I lifted a hand to that coppery hair and twisted my finger into a lock of it.
“You know I can’t. Not now ... with all these people around who can hear us.” She used air quotes around hear, because she didn’t mean hear with their ears, but hear when she blasted our best moments into their minds. The Angels had given her one of the most powerful gifts they could give her—telepathy—but it really messed with our sex life, especially when we were at Rina’s mansion on the Amadis Island. The matriarch’s home was buzzing with extra activity right now with Christmas only days away.
“So where are you off to?” I asked, trying to put my thoughts on a different track than what they were on now—the feel of her naked body against mine. Thoughts that didn’t help my hard-on.
She smiled with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “Not for you to know until Christmas Eve.” She leaned over to give me another kiss, pressing those perfect tits against my chest, before jumping off the bed. “See you this afternoon.”
“Alexis,” I said as she opened the door, “is there anything special you want for Christmas?”
She looked over her shoulder, and her gaze slid from my face down to the foot of the bed and back up again.
“You. Just like that.” She gave me a smile so sexy, I nearly sprang off the bed and tackled her, but she disappeared in a flash before I could move. “But in a place where I can do something about it,” she added from her new location on the first floor of the mansion.
I looked down at the “it” she referred to under the tented shee
t and groaned while thumping my fist against the bed. What kind of answer was that? She could have me anytime she wanted. She knew that. Once I could stand without discomfort, I made my way to the bathroom, thinking about the part she’d added telepathically: A place where we could do something about it. For the first time in weeks, I had a viable idea for what to do for her for Christmas.
An hour later, the door to Rina’s office opened as soon as I approached.
“What can I do for you, Tristan?” she asked as she held her arm out to welcome me into her office. The matriarch must have sensed me, because she apparently hadn’t invaded my thoughts to know I was there. She wore a dark green ball gown, and rubies around her neck and wrists glinted in the light as she closed the door.
“I’ve been trying to think of something special to give to Alexis for Christmas,” I began.
“That should not be hard for you, considering you always know the best solutions,” she said as she sat in one of the wingback chairs by the fire.
“Yes, you would think,” I agreed, taking a seat on the antique leather sofa next to her, “but when it comes to presents for women, the best answer changes every five minutes. Alexis is especially hard, because of her rules.”
Rina smiled, understanding my point. “Oh, yes, the tradition Sophia began. It is a quite lovely idea, giving gifts that either you own and want to give to the other person or that you have made yourself.”
“I’ve already given her a piece of my heart, though. Topping that is proving ... difficult.”
“Tristan, darling, you do not need to top it, as you say. Our Alexis would be fine with anything you give her.”
Rina was probably right—Alexis’s answer this morning was proof—but I had a need to do more than just “anything.” My wife deserved the best I could give her.
I hesitated before asking my next question. “Would a night alone, in a private place, fall within their rules?”