by Eve Langlais
Except the queen had charted her attack for phae and werelings. And the ravpyrii whose sanctuary she meant to take as her own.
Why bother with simple humans?
And yet only she stood against the queen.
But she was part of him now. Her mélange had tempted him back from the edge of his own abyss. Could he call on that bond?
Locking his gaze on her body–a part of him ever since that first bite, and yet still not entirely known, a wonderland he wanted to never leave–he reached deeper for the link, past skin, past blood, to the heart of who she was.
And what she had made him.
A man who would fight for his people, a man who would try against all odds.
A man who could love again.
He shoved to his feet, letting the headlong momentum propel him toward Avery just as the first hunter descended upon her.
He hit her with a grunt, and they tumbled aside, rolling beneath the edge of one black wing slashing through the trees. Over the stink of charcoal, the essence of broken pine needles wove around them.
“Hugo,” Avery gasped. “I saw you. I felt you–”
“I need you,” he told her. “Not just now, but always.”
“Hugh–”
“Stay down.” He grabbed the heavy glaive from the ground where it had fallen.
“What are you doing?”
He towered over her. “I think we should pick out a Christmas tree. It’s that time of year, in case you didn’t know.”
She stared at him, aghast. “Are you crazy?”
He hefted the glaive behind his shoulder like an ax. “Maybe a little. I caught it from you.”
He swung with all his ravpyrii muscle and that little bit of hope she’d given him.
And it was enough.
The cold–forged iron bit deep.
Black wings beat above them, and the pine shivered, raining needles with a whisper that somehow carried over the queen’s scream. Hugo hauled back and swung again.
This time, some of the hope was his own.
The glaive wasn’t an edged weapon, but the trees weren’t purely of the sunlit realm. The phae gate magic imbuing them broke at the touch of iron, shattering with splinters of wood and light. Avery lunged up beside him, pushing at the trunk, her arms buried in the holly and glimmering ornaments.
The tree fell.
Stripped of its glamour once the ring was broken, the gate began to collapse. The moth–light sucked inward. The queen splayed her hands wide, her preternaturally long fingers scrabbling for the shredded magic, trying to weave it anew.
With her shift of focus, her hold on her unwilling subjects faltered. She screamed again in a terrible rage. The wolves howled in answer, and Barrows shouted over the whining whistle of the air falling into the crumbling portal.
“Ravpyrii, come to the feast!”
Clad in black, the ravpyrii surrounded the broken ring. The queen recoiled, hands and wings drawing away from the fury and ferocity in those many eyes. For once, Hugo realized, the emptiness they had to fill with other life forces would save their home, each other, and maybe–for now, at least–the world.
They advanced on the queen, closing their circle. The dark hunters hovered indecisively, and in another heartbeat, it was too late.
The queen grabbed her hunters, her long fingers wrapping around their ankles, like a child grabbing her dolls. Her wings flared once more, churning up a blinding miasma of pine needles, glitter, dust, and some other substance that had not come from this side of the gate.
Hugo pulled Avery under his arm, sheltering her from the storm. Most of the other ravpyrii flinched. Though he kept his tearing eyes wide open, still he couldn’t catch a glimpse of what lay beyond as the queen withdrew. She and the hunters vanished, and the last of the gate magic disintegrated, flashing outward and up into the night sky.
The portal shattered, blasting the remaining trees into kindling and knocking ravpyrii in all directions. Hugo clenched his eyes shut as he wrapped himself completely around Avery and rolled, shrapnel piercing him. If he hadn’t grabbed her…
But he had, and he’d never let her go–
“Let me go!” She shoved his arm away, struggling upright. She staggered a step toward the broken ring. “It’s gone.” Her voice was ragged. “What if–?”
He made his way to her side through the debris and set his hand on her quaking shoulder. “We’ll find her. Wherever she is.”
After a moment, Avery tilted her head to stare up at him. A tear carved through the faint sheen of glitter on her face. “Who’s ‘we’? You asked the phae king to set you free.” The last words were said in a gasp.
The wreckage lodged in his body was nothing compared to the ache in his heart that he’d done this to her, his brave, hopeful human. He thumbed aside the tear and clenched it in his fist, refusing to let that pain touch her. Slowly, letting her see what was in his eyes, he leaned down to kiss the dampness on her cheek.
He threaded his hands through the wild mess of her hair and met her gaze. “You already have.”
On the street behind them, the show came to an end with the musicians segueing into a sweetly melodic carol. Even from this distance, he could hear the people singing along about their holiday dreams.
He took in a shaking breath, trying to capture that music in his soul. Slowly, as though he had all the time in the world, he slid his hands down to frame her face, his thumbs at the points of her jaw where her pulse thrummed. Her green eyes shone, her lips parting on a whisper of his name, and he leaned down to feed the song, merry and bright, back to her in a deep kiss.
“What are you dreaming of?” he asked when he finally lifted his head.
She gave him a slow smile. “You.”
From out of the starry sky, the slivers of the broken gate spell linked together in perfect tiny crystals and settled gently back to the earth.
It was snowing on Christmas Eve.
Chapter Sixteen
When the sun came up on Christmas morning, a scant inch of snow dusted the city, lingering far past the time it should have melted. The shimmering crystals filled the cracks in the streets and added an extra glow around the myriad casino lights. The effect was slowly vanishing as busy locals and gawking tourists tromped across downtown.
Behind ComeTrue, Avery crouched to sweep one fingertip through the snow that had settled over the debris left by the queen’s attack.
“Weird,” she said. “Not cold at all.” She chafed her thumb and forefinger together. The crystals disappeared, but they left a chorus–girl sparkle on her skin.
“I’m amazed you can still be amazed.” Hugo held out a hand to her. “Don’t ever lose that.”
She slipped her palm over his, and he drew her upright, closing the distance between them so the heat of his body started to melt her. “With you around, I doubt I’ll have the chance.” She reached up to touch his lower lip, wanting to leave her shining mark on him. “You will stay?”
“When I asked the phae king to end my curse, I didn’t see a reason to live. I couldn’t believe there’d ever be a reason to go on. You proved me wrong.” He leaned down to angle his mouth over hers, and she tasted the rich darkness of his breath. And something sweeter and more wild: the phae crystals that had fallen in the night.
She threaded her arm behind his back and didn’t let go even when the shattered pine trees shivered as if coming to life, shedding the enchanted snow. The dark, leathery leaves of hellebore twined up around the broken brown trunks, bursting into white blossoms with golden centers as they spread.
Out of the center of the phae gate stepped the king and his wereling mate.
Avery sidelonged an anxious glance at Hugo. “Should I bow or something?” she whispered. While they were dressed in jeans and long coats, his a charcoal gray leather and hers vibrant orange houndstooth, they were still royalty.
Hugo’s lips quirked. “Do you ever?”
Not quite an answer, but she kept her spine straight
as the phae couple approached. They’d made her part of their schemes, and she didn’t want them to think she’d be so easily manipulated next time.
She had no doubt there’d be a next time.
When they came to a halt, she took a breath. “Just so you know, you can’t set Hugo free, even if he did wish it, because he’s mine now.”
The king’s brow furrowed, but the tawny–haired woman beside him laughed. “I guess what happens in Vegas really does stay in Vegas.” She held out her hand to Avery. “I’m Yelena Morozova, and this is Raze. We owe you a debt. Putting the Undone Queen to flight…” She shook her head. “Still, I fear her defeat was too easy and we haven’t seen the last of her.”
Tentatively, Avery clasped the offered hand. The warmth–physical and emotional–was almost overwhelming, and she tucked herself back to Hugo’s side. “Repay the debt by letting Hugo leave your court, free and clear.”
His arm around her tightened. “Avery, no. Use the phae debt to find your mother–”
She spun out of his grasp to glare at him. “Not at the cost of your life. “
“If that’s what it takes–”
“No! That is not the sacrifice I want from you.” She caught her lower lip between her teeth to silence herself. And so that he might catch the tantalizing hint of her blood rushing to the surface.
The king held up one hand. “Whatever you might think you know about the phae, I assure you, we do not grant unwanted wishes.” When Yelena coughed softly, he added, “Not anymore at least. We aren’t holding your mother captive either, as hostage to your compliance. In fact–” He gestured Yelena forward. “We found this.”
Yelena fished in the pocket of her coat and withdrew a gleaming gold chain. “Hugo mentioned the necklace your mother shared with you.”
At the end of a chain dangled a golden heart with a tiny heart cut out of the middle.
Avery touched her throat, shock chilling her more than that childhood night kneeling in the snow. “Is that–?” Slowly, she extended her open hand.
“We were hoping you could tell us for sure.” Yelena pooled the chain in Avery’s palm. “Many of the phae have an affinity for gold, so it may have been stolen and passed around numerous times, but we’re trying to trace it back to its source. I don’t know what we’ll find, but… at least you won’t have to keep wondering.”
Avery let out a shuddering breath. “Thank you. This is…” She tightened her fist around the chain. “It’s hers. I’m sure.”
“Here.” Hugo touched her wrist. “Let me.”
She opened her hand to him and he thumbed open the clasp to slide the charm around her neck. The two hearts, large and small, nestled together.
“We won’t stop looking,” he murmured. “Or hoping.”
She gazed up at him with stinging eyes. “And we’ll make sure Sibilla gets home too.” She turned to face the phae king. “And Hugo is no longer under your command?”
The king inclined his head. “He set up our meeting with Barrows. As agreed. I think we can take it from here.” He lifted one dark eyebrow at Hugo. “You are free to go or stay, according to your desires.”
Avery stared at the phae male with narrowed eyes, suspicious. This was definitely too good to be true. “Just so I’m crystal clear, you won’t kill him?”
“I will not,” Raze said. “But if he stays, you might.”
She stiffened. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“If a ravpyr chooses one source for the life force he needs to exist, then he will age with and ultimately die with that source.” Raze shrugged when Avery sputtered out a denial. “You might be surprised how few rules a king actually gets to make.” He turned his heavy shoulder to Yelena’s playful punch then caught her elbow and hauled her to his side, though she was a tall, powerfully built woman in her own right. He stared down at her. “A taste becomes a craving.” His voice dropped, as if for her alone. “And the craving becomes essential to each breath, each beat of the heart, until nothing else will do. This is a truth I know, and nothing will break it.”
The wereling stared up at him with her yellow eyes sparkling. “You always know just what to say,” she purred.
Raze swooped down to kiss her. “I say, we have a pact to make with Barrows, and then I wish to try a phae’s luck with these so–called one–armed bandits.” He cast an imperious glance at Hugo. “I wish you good fortune as well, man. May there be enough glitter and gold in the sunlit realm for all of us.”
The couple strode off toward ComeTrue, arm in arm, white crystals swirling up behind them.
Avery turned to the silent ravpyr at her side, reaching for him. “Hugh…”
He caught her hands and brought them to his chest, his obsidian eyes shining from within. “This is my gift, Avery. I came to this world with nothing, but now, I can spend my life upon you, with you. If you’ll have it, I will give you my love.”
In a swirl almost as breathtaking as the phae snow, she found herself up in their suite, the Christmas rose hellebores scattering across the big, round bed as Hugo stripped her to the skin.
She unlatched both heart necklaces and straightened them on the bedside table. “We’ll find you.”
“We will,” Hugo vowed. “In a way, she brought us together.”
“Then it’s meant to be,” Avery said resolutely.
With his powerful arms, Hugo lifted her to his kiss. The silver winter sun shining through the window dazzled her eyes, and more, the rush of his pulse as the force of his love bloomed in crimson veins across the white petals.
She tipped back her head to the hot caress of his tongue against her throat, and she thought of the first line for her story.
My Magical Vegas Christmas.
About the Author
Jessa Slade writes paranormal romance, urban fantasy romance, and science fiction romance–basically, anything with explosions AND kisses! Sign up for her 99¢ New Release Alert and download a free copy of Queen of Starlight
Blood Deep © Copyright 2014 Jessa Slade
A Cold Winter’s Bite
Dawn Michelle
December meant more to Hunter Wynn than holidays and time off from a stressful job as the owner of a law firm. It meant the annual getaway he and his partners lived for. A trip to the cold forests of Canada for a winter hunt. Alone and isolated, anything could– and did– happen.
This year it was Hunter’s turn to bring the guest of honor, and he’d just met the perfect girl for it. Pretty, intelligent, and lacking any close friends or relatives. The only question left is whether Hunter can sink his teeth in her before she sets her claws in him.
Chapter One
A man in a dark gray suit designed to cost more than the GDP of a third world nation looked at the three men standing at the bar with him. “Whose turn is it this year?”
“Hunter’s,” another man, this one in a navy suit, answered.
Hunter, wearing a matching black suit, tipped his drink in acknowledgement. “Gentlemen, I’ll try to make sure you’re not disappointed.”
The fourth man of the group wore a brown tweed jacket. He laughed and said, “You’re lawyers–I hardly think the title applies!”
Hunter’s dark eyes flashed as he took a sip of his bourbon and turned away. “We should mingle. It is our firm’s holiday party, after all.”
“Holiday party, that’s stupid,” the blue suit said. “It’s a Christmas party! All this bullshit about being politically correct needs to stop.”
“Jerry, calm down. PR, remember? Now put a smile on and mingle,” Stephen, the partner in the gray suit, said.
Hunter chuckled and moved away to walk between the lawyers, paralegals, interns, and other people in the conference room. It was their annual holiday party and no expense was spared. And why not? They were a very successful law firm that catered to not only all three of the major Detroit automakers, but other high–profile companies in the Detroit Metropolitan sprawl as well.
Hunter and his partners had w
orked hard to build their law firm. It wasn’t pure luck that made them rich. They had talent, killer instinct, and a little something extra that gave them the edge.
Hunter sniffed, taking in the myriad perfumes, colognes, and deodorants in the room. He cast them aside and dug deeper, looking for sweat and other, sweeter, scents. He smiled at his secretary, Mercedes, across the room and kept moving. There was little chance he’d find the answer to his wager here, but he was a man who knew how to achieve his goals.
“Mr. Wynn?” Mercedes asked, her voice as breathy as always. It was one of the reasons he’d hired her. Her voice could put a man off. She was almost sultry, leaving people wondering if she was being serious or suggesting something more intimate with her tone. He’d been able to see through it immediately, but he recognized the potential she had. “Did you need something, sir?”
“Yes.” Hunter stopped and offered her a smile. “I need to make sure you’re having a good time.”
“Sir? Oh! Yes, of course.”She giggled, her laugh just as breathless and teasing as her voice.
“Tonight is for you, Mercedes. You and everyone who spends long hours and lonely nights making sure WMA succeeds. Don’t worry about me again, do you hear?”
Mercedes smiled and nodded. “Yes, Mr. Wynn. Thank you.”
“No, thank you,” Hunter said. He glanced at the dark–skinned man watching Mercedes and nodded at him. “Is that your date?”
Mercedes glanced behind her and then back to Hunter. It was hard to tell with her makeup and dark skin, but she was blushing. He could smell her sudden shyness. “Yes, that’s Alan.”
“Well, you’d better introduce me to him. I insist,” Hunter said and gestured with his hand for Mercedes to lead the way.
Still blushing, she moved between the tables and let her long legs swish through the open rift in her purple dress to cover the distance. Hunter admired the curves of her strong calves and the way she moved in her four–inch heels. He thought the burgundy–colored shoes would look even better up in the air with his hands holding them apart, but he had a policy about mixing business with pleasure.