A Very Alpha Christmas

by Anthology

  “I wish they’d just do it and be done with it,” Baldwin said.

  By “they” Cambridge knew Baldwin meant Mimi and Finn Mackay, and by “it” he meant sex. Finn was a trusted member of BPI and fairly high up in the organization. As a sired vampire, that was impressive. There were only a few dozen in the world who had managed such an accomplishment. Cambridge opened his mouth to reply when shouting from the other room interrupted him.

  “Lass, I’m nae wearin’ this to the meeting. Period,” shouted Finn, a vampire who, even though he’d been sired and not born as one, had the strength to stay removed from his demon, not becoming a slave to it and its desires. That was hard to do. Cambridge knew natural-born vampires who’d struggled to maintain full control. The demons they came into this world with were strong and often as old as time—not like when humans were turned. Apparently, human-turned-vampires were the demon consolation prize going to the less powerful.

  Probably for the best.

  Finn stormed out from the dining room of the mansion they’d been living in since their arrival, holding up a sweater with a giant Christmas tree, or something that looked sort of like a tree, knitted on the front. It had functioning, multicolor lights on it, adding to its hideously tacky factor. “No!”

  “Fine, then how about this one?” Mimi followed him out. The short redheaded Fae held yet another holiday sweater in hand. This one was bright green and had something that looked like snowflakes all over it. “Or the reindeer one I have upstairs?”

  Finn shot Cambridge a pleading look. “Tell her I have to wear a suit.”

  “Since when have you ever worn a suit?” asked Mimi, a hand going to her hip. She was a foot shorter than Finn, but gave him hell as if she were two feet taller than him.

  “I’ll have you know I wore a suit in the seventies.”

  Mimi smiled slyly. “Leisure suits don’t count, vamp boy.”

  Finn opened his mouth and then closed it, shrugging. “Never mind, then.”

  ”Oh, I have a Santa suit packed away somewhere here. Let me go find that for you.” Mimi pointed a finger in the air as if having a Eureka moment.

  “Och, no!” Finn’s horror couldn’t be masked.

  Cambridge grinned. It was good to see Fae and vampire standing side by side. Even all these years after the wars of long ago, each kind still managed to hold grudges. It didn’t matter that the Paranormal Awakening in the seventies had put the whole of the supernatural community against the humans, like still preferred like. “Go with the Santa suit.”

  Finn snarled, showing fang, reminding Cambridge the vampires in their group had not yet fed tonight. Thankfully, they were all old enough to have control over the bloodlust. Baldwin was a bear shifter, so he didn’t suffer from the moon’s pull like many wolf shifters did. There was some comfort in that, as tonight was a full moon. Finn seemed convinced that Baldwin would want to stop everything they were doing in the middle of a job to forage for food and then hibernate. The shifter and vampire jokes never bothered Cambridge. He found they helped his agents bond more, finding humor in their shared darkness.

  Mimi was Fae, and as Fae she was not bound by the same restrictions the vampires had—namely, she could be out in daylight with no issue, and she didn’t need to drink blood to survive. She sighed. “I made sweaters for all of you. Come on, guys, the media will be there. What better way to show the world you’re harmless teddy bears and not cold-blooded killing machines than to show up in holiday sweaters? You’ll all look so adorable.”

  Baldwin kept his eyes closed but raised a hand, his foot moving along with the still-playing song. “Toss me one, Mimi. I’ll make Finn wear it. Seeing him look like a sweet teddy bear on national TV will be the highlight of my trip here.”

  Finn’s eyes widened and he yanked off the sweater he had on. “Och, bear, I’ll show you just how mean a vampire can get.”

  Baldwin snorted. “Ooo, threaten to fang me. That sounds truly horrifying.” He snarled, his fangs distending as he did. “Mine are bigger.”

  “I’ll show you bigger,” Finn said, reaching for the top of his jeans, making Mimi yelp.

  “No whipping out manhoods,” she scolded.

  “I find myself siding with Mimi yet again,” added Cambridge.

  “He is an asshole,” said Finn to Cambridge.

  “Guilty,” added Baldwin from the chair. “Don’t piss me off too bad or I won’t restock the blood in the fridge. That’ll teach you both. What are you going to do then?”

  Finn focused on Mimi. “I’m nae wearin’ the sweater or the Santa suit. End of discussion, Fae.”

  She zapped him with magik and he cursed, rubbing his backside. “You were saying?”

  Grumbling, Finn glanced from Mimi to Cambridge. “Can I eat her?”

  “I eat people. You just suck on them a lot,” said Baldwin, moving both feet to the tune now. “Vampires, always taking the lazy way out.”

  Cambridge shrugged. “Sure, drain her dry. But try not to get bits of her on the carpet. And remember you have to explain to Dani why you ate her best friend.”

  “She won’t take the news lightly.” Mimi stuck out her tongue. “My friend can kick your butt.”

  “Yer friend is a menace, same as you,” said Finn facetiously. Finn was protective of Dani and Mimi. He oversaw the training of many new recruits and had trained Dani, but not her best friend. Mimi wasn’t a Preternatural Enforcer like Dani. The old-school name for the position was “slayer.” That had gone out of fashion in the past ten years and headquarters decided to rebrand the position. Less Van Helsing and more sophisticated.

  In the end, they were still slayers.

  No amount of rebranding changed that.

  He was waiting for the interoffice memo to come through demanding all the vampires refer to themselves as living challenged and the shifters to go by form uninhibited. Some asshole in Washington would think it up soon enough.

  Mimi pouted.

  Finn took the sweaters from her with great care. “Lass, I’ll wear them, but nae tonight. Deal?”

  Mimi’s bottom lip began to tremble. “Okay.”

  Finn groaned and pulled the Christmas tree sweater over his head. He finished putting the monstrosity on and stood there, one sleeve much longer than the other, the lights glowing, and a pained expression on his face. “It’s perfect. I’ll wear it tonight.”

  “Whipped,” said Baldwin as he coughed.

  Mimi ignored him and gifted a wide smile at Finn. “It looks so good on you.”

  Cambridge breathed slowly through clenched teeth. There were days he felt as if the combined age of the team with him was somewhere around five or six years rather than centuries. Mimi was young still, only into her twenties—a mere baby in their eyes. “Can we please go now?”

  “Someone got up on the wrong side of the coffin and needs to feed,” said Mimi as she left the room.

  Finn laughed. “We should stop for take-out on the way. Mmm, a blonde sounds yummy.”

  Cambridge hid his smile at the joke. “We will feed after the meetings. Not before. And we will use the bagged blood they are supplying us.”

  “Come on, admit it, blood and a blonde sounds like fun,” said Finn.

  The idea had merit.

  “I prefer my girls with red hair,” said Baldwin, standing to his full height and stretching his arms overhead. Cambridge and Finn were tall, but Baldwin was more so.

  “You keep your paws off Mimi,” warned Finn.

  “Marking your territory?” asked Baldwin with a smirk.

  Finn huffed. “Och, it’s nae like that with us.”

  “Sure.” Baldwin scratched his stomach. “I’m hungry. Can I eat a human protestor? You know there will be enough there to go around.”

  Finn snickered. “I change my vote. Let’s drain protestors. That ought to give ‘em somethin’ to rant about. A new cause. A real reason to stand behind their beliefs.”

  2

  Vamp goop blows

  Cassie
McGowan stood before the ornate building downtown, her stomach in a knot, her pulse racing. She wasn’t trained to be stealthy and was hardly a hero by any means. She’d spent most of her life simply keeping her head down, trying to avoid incurring the wrath of a man she was sure was evil to the very last drop. And now she was drawing on an inner strength she hadn’t known she even possessed.

  Odds were she’d fail.

  Epically.

  But she had to at least try. The time for looking out for only herself had passed. If she dared give up now, many would die and their blood would be on her hands.

  She glanced around too fast and had to remind herself to be calm and try to play it cool. Looking like a woman hopped up on something wouldn’t do her or anyone else any good.

  “Too many people,” she whispered softly.

  They’d all be hurt or dead if her stepfather got his way. She’d unwittingly uncovered his plans: set bombs off around the area and kill as many as he could, and then blame it all on the supernaturals. The sinister scheme would work. There was enough anti-supernatural sentiment to pull off the unthinkable.

  The very idea that humans and supernaturals would be killed to further her stepfather’s cause sickened her. Knowing that in addition to the human casualties there would be supernatural ones as well made her body heat with nervous energy.

  Cassie considered pulling off some layers of clothing, even though it was snowing. She was burning up.

  Adrenaline.

  Snowflakes fell faster. She’d be soaked through and through at this rate. She kept her head low and pulled the knit cap she wore even lower. There was no sun to keep from her eyes. It had gone down hours ago. The moon was full, casting more light than she wanted at the moment—it would be easy to be spotted and she couldn’t risk being recognized.

  Too much was at stake.

  Moving within the crowd proved harder than she’d anticipated. Turned out a lot of people wanted to protest the peace negotiations being held. The economic downturn, skyrocketing unemployment rates, a few high profile murders—humans dying by supernatural hands—and unrest had fallen over the state. Currently, Columbus was where everyone gathered to let their voices be heard on the matter. It housed a large supernatural population, which was part of the reason why. Purists from around the country were pouring in, stoking the fires of discontent, demanding more than just change.

  They were out for blood.

  She wasn’t one of the nutjobs who thought vampires didn’t have a right to life because they were dead. It didn’t matter that she’d grown up in the thick of the very same loons who thought only human lives mattered. That only humans were worthy and all others should be wiped out. Their mission, mass genocide.

  She knew the purists well. She’d been raised in the culture of hate and loathing. Cassie’s mother had married into it all when Cassie was little. Her childhood had gone from happy to dismal nearly overnight. And she’d spent her life living in fear. Her stepfather was high up in the purist organization. He’d made his way there by being ruthless. He’d gotten away with a least three vampire slayings that the public was aware of, and so many more that Cassie knew about.

  She detested him.

  Hated everything he stood for.

  And he despised her because he knew the truth about her. That she wasn’t human, and he hated that. Her entire life had been spent fearing an “accident” that would take her life. He couldn’t own up to having an adopted daughter who wasn’t fully human—it would reflect poorly on him and make those loyal to him question him.

  No.

  She was never to reveal what she was to anyone. If she did, he’d hurt her mother. And despite all her mother’s faults when it came to picking men, Cassie loved her mom and her mom loved her.

  She deeply suspected her mother loved her biological father as well. She’d kept who he was a secret from her stepfather and from Cassie. Whenever mention of the abomination who helped to create Cassie came up, her mother seemed far off in thought, the slightest of smiles touching her face as if she was remembering better times. Cassie had no memories of her biological father. Only stories her mother told her. He’d been a good, kind man, and he’d clearly not been human. He’d also vanished.

  Deep down, she knew her biological father was dead. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but she did. Something deep within pushed at her, telling her that if he were alive, he’d have come for her by now.

  Cassie had been too young to remember when her stepfather Albert had come into her mother’s life fully, but she did remember he had seemed nice and sweet at first. He’d fooled everyone.

  Including her, at least to start with.

  Leaving him wasn’t an option for her mother. He’d made it very clear that if she tried, he’d kill her. No one doubted that he’d carry out the threat. He’d done far worse to others.

  Bastard.

  “You can do this,” she said softly as she pushed through the crowds of angry humans. “Just warn someone important and get the hell out of here. No harm. No foul.”

  The protestor’s signs spewed their hate, as did their organized chants. “Send the devils back to Hell!”

  She glanced up to notice one of the signs in front of her was spelled wrong. Every single word. Ignorance seeped into all areas of their life, apparently. An overweight man whose belly hung out under his shirt backed up and shoved Cassie, making her fall back. She fell into another protestor, and before she knew it she was being shoved around between them, riling them without meaning to. Not that it took much. They were like a pack of jackals.

  Stumbling out of the mass and into an open area of the darkened parking lot, she caught her bearings, her heart beating fast, her magik pulsing at her, wanting free. It wanted to protect her.

  Not now, girl, she thought, having a longstanding history of speaking to her magik as if it were separate from her. It wasn’t. It was part of her. A part she had to keep hidden, but a part that wanted to be free. Like now, it wanted out to lay waste to the assholes around her.

  Not good.

  They’d tear her to iddy biddy bits. They held no love for the supernatural, and finding one standing in their midst while tensions were this high would prove ugly.

  Very ugly.

  She sighed. She’d never be able to warn the supernaturals at this rate. People would die and she’d never get the stain of it all off her. There was no way she was gaining access to the building where they were holding the peace talks. At least, not from the front.

  A frontal assault probably wasn’t the best plan, but she wasn’t exactly a card-carrying member of any elite strike unit. This was her first time trying anything of the sort.

  Stepping away from the gathered crowd, Cassie eyed the side alley. The idea of heading down a darkened alley at night didn’t seem very smart, especially with the types of characters the protest was drawing, but she needed to do something to try to stop the carnage that would take place if her stepfather got his way.

  He and his men were planning something big. Something that would cement his position in the anti-supernatural movement. She’d caught glimpses of the building blueprints as well as designs of explosives. They went hand-in-hand. She knew it. Her stepfather was evil enough to blow up an entire building. The humans inside would be labeled supernatural sympathizers and collateral damage in the pending war he was working so hard at provoking.

  There would be no living with herself if she allowed this atrocity to happen. She’d tried calling the police to warn them, but she’d been hung up on, as if she was a crank caller. It was time to take matters into her own hands.

  Cassie hurried toward the side alley, ducking and weaving around protestors. She rushed into a darkened area and turned to be sure no one from the rally had followed her. It would be just like her stepfather Albert to have people watching her.

  She was alone.

  “Find someone in charge and get out of here.”

  Exhaling, she turned to try to find someone, anyone wi
th some sense who would listen to her. She barely took one step before she collided into an unmovable force.

  A solid wall of muscled maleness.

  Her magik flared to life, pulsing within her, wanting free, but not to hurt anyone—to explore.

  Odd.

  Gasping, she looked up and took the tiniest of steps back as she found herself standing toe to toe with a man who had been all over the tabloids. Cambridge Sutton, one of the heads of the Paranormal Bureau of Investigation, billionaire, and a member of one of the ruling vampire families. She’d wanted someone in charge. She just didn’t expect him.

  Ask and ye shall receive. A sly grin spread over her face. Maybe if she made another request, it too would come to fruition. I want him under my tree this year, wearing nothing but a bow.

  The man was the focus of most of the gossip in the news these days. Any of the supernaturals from the ruling families seemed to be up for grabs when it came to day-to-day stories running about them. The public ate it up. Watching news on them was more fun for some than watching daytime soap operas. Cambridge was certainly one of the favorites. His raven-colored hair, dark-as-coal eyes, alabaster skin, and his love of the finer things in life cemented him a spot. Didn’t hurt that he was sexy as could be. Tall, dark, and brooding. The guy had it mastered.

  Guess being immortal had its perks.

  The tabloids always linked him with this movie star or that singing sensation. All of the women were beautiful and rich. And all of the women were blonde with blue eyes.

  He had a type, that was for sure.

  Television and the internet did not do the man justice. She’d thought she was overheated before, but being this close to the sexy vampire made her feel as if she was about to go up in flames.