A Vampire's Christmas Wish (Vampires On Holiday #1)

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A Vampire's Christmas Wish (Vampires On Holiday #1) Page 9

by M. L. Guida


  “So you’re a gigantic mosquito?”

  He laughed, his shoulder throbbed and he winced. “Something like that.”

  She bit her lip. “What about Brandon?”

  “What about him?”

  “If you take his blood, will he turn into a vampire?”

  “No, a human must be near death. He’s lost blood and passed out, but far from dead.”

  “What will happen?”

  “Nothing. He’ll be unchanged.”

  “I read once that vampires can take blood from a victim and track them. Is that true?”

  He arched his eyebrow. “Up on vampire lore, are you?”

  Her face redden. He knew she blushed all the way down to her toes and despite the pain in his arm and blisters on his skin, he wanted her. Admit it. He always wanted her.

  “So can you?”

  “Yes, I can.”

  She pushed her hair out of her face and rubbed her cheek. “Then do it. I don’t ever what him coming after me again.”

  His hope died. She didn’t want him. A monster. “You want me to be your bodyguard?”

  “I almost killed someone for you. I think we’re past being strangers.”

  He turned and crawled over to Brandon. He didn’t want to see loathing form on her sweet face. He couldn’t resist. She was right. He needed blood. And he’d be able to track Brandon and protect Deirdre.

  He fought back the disgust of having to feed from the louse. Elated the slime would never be able to track Deirdre again without him knowing about it. He snatched Brandon’s limp wrist and sunk his fangs into his flesh. Brandon moaned, but didn’t wake.

  Sweet life flowed into Janus and his veins thickened. Blood pumped through him, tingles rushed over him. He feasted until he heard the beating of Brandon’s heart and he licked the tiny pricks on his skin and then discarded his hand.

  He wiped his lips on his sleeve. He wished Deirdre didn’t have to witness the hunger.

  “Feeling better?”

  He hung his head. “Yes, I’m sorry Deirdre, I’d give anything for you not to have seen this.”

  “Janus, if you hadn’t been a vampire…”

  He lifted his head.

  She gestured to Brandon. “I’d be his prisoner and God knows what he would have done to me. You gave me the courage to survive.”

  No fear or revulsion reflected in her beautiful eyes, but he couldn’t be sure. He didn’t move. Too afraid to move. She had the power to destroy him.

  “Janus.”

  He didn’t answer, not sure what to say.

  “Take me home.”

  “Home to Colorado?”

  “No, you’re condominium.”

  Chapter Eight

  Watching Janus feed, Deirdre swallowed hard. She didn’t want to vomit and reveal how much his sucking sounds churned her stomach. Her ankle hammered with pain and she hurt everywhere. She needed a doctor, but the last thing she wanted to do was go to the hospital and be away from Janus.

  His lips stained with blood, Janus edged over to her. Blood was smeared on both his sleeves and down the front of the shirt. She didn’t know which was his and which was Brandon’s. He was a vampire and he’d risk his life for her.

  “We need to call an ambulance,” he said. “You’re hurt.” He tilted his head. “And he needs one.”

  “I don’t feel like answering questions.”

  “There will be more questions if we leave here and the man dies.”

  She nodded. “Call them. I can hardly wait to see Detective Akao.”

  Janus cupped her chin. “As soon as this is over, I’ll take you to my condo.”

  Deirdre stared into his eyes and had an urge to kiss him, but he dropped his hand and moved away. What was wrong with her?

  Janus went inside the house to call the police.

  He came back and knelt next to her. “I’ve got to move my jeep and open the gate. Stay here.” He hobbled out of the backyard. His hair was matted and his shirt torn and bloodied. The man had been through hell.

  “Like I’m going anywhere.” Brandon’s chest rose up and down. God, was this nightmare finally over?

  The sun had lowered and she estimated it was about three or four o’clock. Janus stumbled back to her and sat. He’d wiped the blood from his face, but still wore the stained shirt. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  Sirens wailed in the distance and weariness gripped Deirdre. Questions, more questions. She hung her head.

  “About the same as you. I thought the blood healed you.”

  “Enough to keep me from passing out. The sun drained more of my energy than I’d planned.”

  “Plus you lost a lot of blood.”

  “You mean you care?” Hope brimmed in his eyes.

  The words stuck in her throat. Yes, she cared. But she couldn’t get the image, the sounds of him feeding out of her mind.

  Janus turned his head away. She clasped his hand and ran her thumb under his palm. Why was she being such a coward? He’d risk his life for her. And she cared for him. No, it was more than cared. Something she couldn’t bring herself to say.

  Shouts bellowed inside the house that saved her from facing her emotions. Police, paramedics and firemen rushed toward them. Detective Akao was the last one to arrive. She scowled and stormed over to Janus and Deirdre. Deirdre tensed and prayed she didn’t have to be chained to a hospital bed or worse, thrown into a jail cell.

  Detective Akao tilted her head toward Brandon. “What happened?”

  Before Deirdre could answer, Janus waved his hand. “He kidnapped Deirdre, threatened to kill her. We fought. And now you’re here.”

  “I’d like to know what the hell happened to Mr. Delaney. You’re—” Detective Akao’s frown lessened and she stumbled backward. She shook her head and blinked. “I see.” Her voice was more robotic than crisp.

  Janus’s face had paled to a lighter gray and his jaw was tight. He’d done something. Drawn on some more vampire powers, but it obviously drained him further.

  A young paramedic frowned as he worked on Brandon. “He’s got a gunshot wound through the back of his chest. He’s lost a lot of blood, but he’s still alive. Barely. We need to get him to a hospital.” The paramedic gave Brandon an IV and he and his partner lifted Brandon on to a stretcher.

  Tilting his head back and closing his eyes, Janus squeezed her knee. “He’ll be fine. I promise.”

  Deirdre nodded her head. But what if he wasn’t? She’d be charged with first degree murder. Maybe she’d get lucky and be charged with second degree murder. Shit. Life imprisonment, twenty or thirty years. Years without Janus. Either way, she’d come out an old chewed up woman. Would he even want her?

  She wanted to cry but no tears came.

  A paramedic knelt next to Deirdre. “Miss, can I look at your ankle?”

  She nodded and put her hand on Janus’s, needing to feel his strength. He examined it and frowned. “It’s broken.” He waved his hand. “We need a stretcher.”

  “Can he come with me?”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Janus murmured.

  “Yes, you are,” the paramedic said. “To the hospital. Stretcher.”

  Janus’s eyes were still closed and he didn’t argue with the paramedic. Was he going into the shadow sleep? His breath was becoming shallower and shallower. She rested her head on his bloodied shoulder. The paramedics put a brace on her ankle and she stiffened. They lifted her into a stretcher and pain jolted through her. She bit her lip, not wanting to wake Janus. She reached for Janus’ hand, but he was lifted onto a gurney and wheeled away from her. Her heart thumped overtime and heat washed over her. He was her rock and they were taking him away. A pain throbbed in her chest, more painful than her ankle.

  Dropping her hand to her side, she brushed back a tear.

  A blond female paramedic rode in the back of the ambulance with her and injected her with pain medication. She made small talk, but Deirdre stopped listening and closed her eyes. She wanted Janus,
to feel his arms around her. Why couldn’t they ride in the same ambulance?

  Blissful sleep swept over her…

  An orchestra played Christmas hymns and Christmas wreaths were hung on the walls. Two Christmas trees, decorated with balls and bows, were on either side of the orchestra. She was waltzing with a handsome blond man and when he twirled her, the hem of her red gown twirled around her ankles. He smiled at her, but warning lights buzzed in her head. She knew him. Knew he was evil. Knew he planned to seduce her.

  She wanted to pull away, but his arm wrapped around her waist and he held her hand tight. Why wasn’t she fighting him? What was wrong with her? It was as if she wasn’t afraid of him, but she should be afraid, very afraid.

  Who was he? His long red military jacket with gold buttons hugged his muscular body, but he wasn’t wearing American colors. No, wait. British. She glanced at the couples. The men were similar uniforms and the ladies all long gowns with deep necklines, hair piled high. Had she been thrown back in time?

  Lear. Major Martin Lear.

  The music stopped and he released her and bowed. “Thank you for the dance, Ms. Helm.”

  “You’re welcome, Major Lear.”

  “Delores?”

  She turned. Janus glowered at a smirking Major Lear. Why was Janus calling her Delores?

  “By your leave,” Major Lear said.

  Janus’s gaze followed Lear across the dance floor. “Why are you with him?”

  “Because he asked me to dance.”

  “He’s a rake and you need to stay away from him.”

  She loved to tease him. To make him worry. Just a little. How could even think that she’d want anyone over him? “Jealous?”

  “Delores, you’re tempting your fate. I need you to stay safe.”

  “I’m quite capable of taking care of myself.”

  He grabbed her arm. “You’re my wife and I want you to stay away from him.” He lowered his head and he kissed the back of her neck.

  His wife? Janus had said she’d been his wife.

  A haze fell over her. The orchestra stopped. Janus was gone. There were no Christmas decorations, just snow covered trees. She wasn’t in the ballroom any longer. Rather she was walking in a wintery park. The moon shone through the trees and cast shadows onto the dusted park. Why was she strolling through a park at night? She was laughing as if playing a game. But she shouldn’t be laughing. Why did she feel safe here? She was vulnerable. And Janus wasn’t here. He’d promised to keep her out of danger.

  “Delores!”

  Janus ran toward her, his face grim and fear in his eyes.

  “Delores.” A breath hissed on the back of her neck. She whirled around. Major Martin Lear stared at her through a dark cloak. Moonlight glittered off his blue eyes, but it was more than moon light. Hate, pure unadulterated malice.

  “Major Lear?”

  “He’s too late.”

  “Delores, run,” Janus screamed.

  But she hesitated. A fatal mistake. Her feet froze to move. Lear pulled out a crossbow and shot her in the shoulder. Pain seized her. She fell to her knees and tried to move but cold chills slid over her and her limbs refused to move.

  “Hallowed mud, bitch,” he said.

  “Janus,” she whispered, gasping her words. “Help me.”

  She strained to lift her head. Her eyes widened. Lear held a sword in his hands and raised it over his head.

  “Janus!” she screamed. Hot sweat broke out and her lower lip trembled.

  He swung and a sharp pain sliced into her throat. Gurgling cut her scream. Janus’s name died on her lips.

  Deirdre woke to dings and beeps. She fluttered her eyes opens to white walls and machines surrounding her.

  “How are you feeling?”

  She turned her head to the side. Janus gripped a hard leather chair next to her bed. The curtains were drawn shut, but through the crack, the moonbeams slipped through, casting a long line across the tile floor. He was pale and looked tired. He must still need blood.

  “Tired.” She put her hand on her forehead. “How long have I been out?”

  He sat on her bed and ran his hand over her arm. “Five hours.”

  Tingles spread over her and she wished he’d kiss her. She wanted sit up and hug him, but her legs refused to move. Her leg was numb. She couldn’t feel anything. That’s right. The damn block. The doctor gave her a shot of morphine and a block on her leg before he reset her broken ankle.

  “Have you been here the whole time?”

  “Yes, never left your side. You look so pale.”

  “So do you. A couple of ghosts.”

  He kissed the top of her forehead and she was surprised how disappointed she was that it was a quick peck. She wanted something sweeter, longer.

  “I remember,” she said.

  “How much do you remember?”

  “I was dancing with a man, a man I knew who wanted to kill me. Why would Major Lear want to kill me?”

  “Don’t think about him. It was a long time ago. He’s dead now. You’re safe, I promise.”

  “Dead?”

  “Yes. Rotting in hell.” .

  “You haven’t fed, have you?”

  “I’m fine. I’ll survive.”

  “My name was Delores?”

  He stilled. “Yes.”

  “Delores Helm?”

  “You were so beautiful. Now you’re even more beautiful.” She knew she looked like hell and he was complimenting her. Brandon had always insisted on perfection. With Janus, he’d accept her. Something she never had and desperately wanted. She wished she could tell him how she felt, but the words refused to come out of her mouth. How could she be with a vampire? She could still hear the sounds of him sucking on Brandon.

  Not wanting to dwell on her cowardice, she changed the subject. “Martin Lear. He was a vampire killer.”

  “Shhh, I didn’t want you to remember him.”

  He kissed the back of her hand and his soft lips sent tingles through her. She wanted those lips on hers to taste his masculine taste again. Chicken again.

  “I just want you to remember what we had.”

  Memories flooded her mind of them lying in bed for hours in London. Him making her laugh, dancing with her. Surprising her with tiny gifts and how much he loved her, cherished her.

  “I’d give anything for you not to remember that terrible night.”

  She ached to experience those times with him now. Her yellow spine took over. “Are there still vampire killers?”

  He clamped his jaw tight. “Yes.”

  “Are they hunting you?”

  “I’m a master vampire, Deirdre. I’m not easy to kill.”

  “They’re pursuing you?”

  He traced his finger down her arm and she shivered. “They’re obsessed. They don’t discriminate between us. Not all of us kill our donor.”

  She grimaced, hoping he hadn’t noticed. “We’re forced to live off human blood. Some of us rob blood banks, others seduce and feed on humans, but we don’t kill.”

  “But some vampires kill?”

  “So do humans.”

  “When was the last time—”

  “They tried to kill me?”

  She nodded

  “About six months ago.”

  Her heart nearly stopped. What if they had succeeded? She couldn’t bear to lose him.

  It was down in Florida,” he continued. “I was vacationing down there when one of them stumbled upon me.”

  “Vacation from what?”

  He smiled. “Even vampires have jobs. I’m an art dealer and was at an art show when the hunters spotted me.”

  “What happened?”

  “They tried to kill me with hallowed mud—blessed dirt mixed with holy water. It takes a lot to immobilize me. Something they won’t forget.”

  “Why did it work on me?”

  “You were a newly turned vampire and it quickly worked upon you.”

  “If I’m with you, will they come
after me?”

  His eyes darkened and he stopped running his finger over her arm. “They might.”

  She stared into his magnificent eyes. “Do vampires fall in love with humans?”

  “Yes.”

  His answer sent waves of pleasure pumping through her. He wanted her. “And?”

  He smoothed a piece of her hair out of her face. “If you’re asking if we transform people we love into vampires, the answer is yes. Never against their will. The loved ones decide whether they want to die or live. Vampire killers see humans who love us or count us as friends as their enemies.”

  Could she be a vampire? “I see. Can you sense them?”

  “Sometimes. Some of them have learned how to mask their thoughts and can go undetected. They’re the most dangerous.”

  “So, they could kill me like they did before.”

  “I’d never let anyone harm you.” He picked up her hand and kissed her knuckles. “I promise.”

  She could barely concentrate. “I’m so tired. You won’t leave me.”

  “No, I won’t.”

  “All night?”

  “All night.”

  Closing her eyes, she snuggled next to him, preferring him sitting on the bed rather than the chair. She’d figure out what to do tomorrow. Maybe she’d find her courage. And tell him the truth. What was the truth? Tomorrow, tomorrow, she’d be refreshed, her head less fuzzy. She’d tell him then.

  Warmth slid over Deirdre’s face and she opened her eyes. Sunlight blinded her and wincing, she shielded her eyes with her palm.

  A gray-haired nurse, wearing a patch print smock, stood next to open blinds. “Good morning, Ms. Hahn. How are you feeling? I’m Nancy.”

  “Will you please lower the blinds?”

  “Sure,” Nancy said. “It’s such a lovely day. How is your ankle?”

  Staring at the chair where Janus had sat last night, Deirdre’s heart sank. Where was he? She scanned the hospital room. She was alone. He broke his promise.

  “Ms. Hahn, did you hear me?”

  “The man who was here earlier? Where is he?”

  “Mr. Morano?”

 

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