The crowd parted around a short woman with wavy black hair. She wore a purple jacket, matching snow cap, and a look of horror and disbelief.
“That’s not right!” She stomped her foot. “It can’t be! I haven’t done anything!”
“Amanda,” an older man touched her shoulder.
“No!” She pulled away. “I haven’t done a damn thing! It can’t be my name!” She started backing away, which wasn’t hard given that people were practically throwing themselves away from her.
“You know how this works, Amanda,” the balding man said, holding the list in his hand. “It’s an unfortunate situation, that’s for sure. But there’s only one way to make it right.”
“I didn’t do anything!” She backed away from the crowd so quickly she nearly tripped over her own feet. “I didn’t!”
“Don’t make this harder than it has to be.” The balding man didn’t attempt to move toward her. He just turned the paper over in his hand, showcasing the name. ‘Amanda Carter’ was written in huge swooping letters and underlined three times.
Amanda shook her head slowly as though frozen for a moment in time, and then darted off into the woods.
“Should we follow her?” a man asked from somewhere in the crowd.
“Best leave her be.” The balding man waved his hand dismissively. “She’ll come to terms with it in her own time.” The balding man’s eyes shifted to Abram and me. “And to our visitors, it’s best you leave here and say nothing of what you saw tonight. Town business is town business. Leave it at that.”
He marched toward the side of the street, pulled a knife from his pocket, and pinned the note to a wooden door.
People began to disperse, pairing up into groups and actually seeming to go about their business as if weird crap hadn’t just busted up their night.
“We can’t leave, can we?” I whispered, looking up at Abram.
He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Char. If this has been going on since 1965, it’s either the hugest coincidence in the world or it has something to do with me.” He stared at the tree, unmoving for a long time. “We need to convince someone to explain things to us.”
“How about him?” I said, spotting the hotel’s front desk clerk in the crowd and pointing him out to Abram. “He’s perfect. He was scared to death of you.”
Abram frowned. “I think these people are scared enough. We shouldn’t be aiming to scare them more.”
“You said you wanted answers.” I darted over toward the hotel clerk. “Hey, Wendell!”
“Dudley,” Abram corrected, coming up beside me.
“Whatever,” I said, still smiling brightly at the rail of a man. “We need to know what’s going on here.”
“God’s plentiful pasture! Why won’t you people leave me alone?” He sighed, slumping where he stood. “You need to—”
“We’re not leaving, Dudley, and one way or another, we’re going to get to the bottom of what’s happening in your town,” Abram said. “All you need to decide is whether you’re going to help us do it in time to actually make a difference.”
“Didn’t you see what happened?” Dudley asked.
“Yes. A tree appeared. There was a gift. Someone read it, and it had a name on it. What more is there to see?”
Dudley’s eyes went wide. “Nothing you would want to see,” he said. “Besides, what makes you think you can help anyway? You said yourself you don’t even know what’s going on here.”
Abram leaned closer, his face inches from Dudley’s. “This,” he said, baring his beast fangs at the man. His eyes lit red, and his facial features stretched just enough to show what he was capable of.
“Oh, you’re one of those,” Dudley said, almost absentmindedly.
“That usually gets a bigger reaction,” I mumbled.
Abram straightened and retracted his teeth and animalistic nature. “Then you should know what I’m capable of.”
Dudley nodded. “Indeed. And it’s not enough.”
“Look, Wendell—”
“Dudley.”
“Whatever. I don’t know what’s happening here, but I do know that woman was scared to death. I’ve been her before. I’ve been alone, frightened, and lost in the woods. It’s not a good place to be. It’s not something I’m willing to let happen to someone else, and quite frankly, neither should you. It’s Christmas, Dudley. At the very least, let the spirit move you.”
His expression softened from smug to sympathetic. Then, motioning for us to follow him, he settled in front of one of the many closed shops that lined Main Street.
“We agree that if I tell you this, and you get yourselves killed, it’s not my fault. Correct?”
“If we die, you won’t hear a peep from us about it,” I promised. God, my life was weird.
“It’s been like this since before I was born. Every Christmastime, he comes. He leaves a list—the naughty list. And whoever’s on it either has to undo whatever transgression he’s holding them accountable for—” He swallowed hard. “—or he kills them.”
“That sounds a little…extreme,” I said.
“We were all so good this year, though. We thought he might actually leave us alone, that we might actually get through this damn holiday in one piece. Why hasn’t he left us alone?” Dudley implored us with his gaze now, almost begging for us to provide him some kind of answer when we were the one with questions. “Is he punishing us for our nightmares now? Is that what they mean when they say he sees us when we’re sleeping?”
“He sees you when you’re sleeping?” I laughed, trying not to roll my eyes. “Who the hell is this guy? Santa Claus?”
“That’s exactly who he is,” Dudley said, his expression falling flat. “And you better watch out.”
Chapter 4
“These people are insane,” I said, walking next to Abram through the quickly dispersing crowd. “I mean, they actually think Santa Claus is out to get them.”
“Right,” Abram said absentmindedly, scanning the area.
I shrugged. “How crazy is that?”
“Pretty crazy, I suppose,” he answered, though I could tell he still wasn’t listening to me.
“Oh God, Abram. Please tell me you don’t believe them.” A quick look at his expression told me he did. I crossed my arms. “Seriously, Abram?”
“Of course I don’t believe them,” he said, turning his attention to me. “Saint Nicholas was a man, and, though he was certainly a proponent of doing what’s right, he didn’t kill people. But I do believe that they believe, and belief can be a powerful thing, especially when magic is involved.”
“So you’re saying that because they believe it’s Santa, it actually might be?” There wasn’t enough ibuprofen in this podunk town for the headache this was bringing on.
“I’m saying that something is going on here and has been since perhaps the instant I left back in 1965. Regardless of what shape they’ve taken, a Conduit is responsible for this.”
Oh great. Just what my Christmas needed, a run in with a Conduit hell bent on playing the part of a homicidal Santa.
“Crazy witches,” I muttered, trying to ignore for a moment that I was, in part, one of them myself. Perhaps that was why I hated them so much. Or perhaps it was because they wanted to bleed the other part of me out of me until I was bone dry and use my blood to perform dark magic.
Yeah, it was probably that. I wasn’t sure which was worse—being part Supplicant or being part Conduit.
“We need to find out who it is and why they’re doing it,” Abram said firmly.
There were many things about Abram that were firm, but the one I didn’t like was his conviction about standing up to Conduits.
I let out a deep, resigning sigh as people moved between us, each scowling as they passed.
Abram grabbed my hand. “We need to find a place where we can talk.”
I snatched my hand away and shook my head. “Not to send your mind fluttering back to darker days, but you said you were in a dar
k place the first time you came here. You said this place helped you come to terms with who you were. Is it possible you did something to someone while you were still making peace with yourself? Maybe someone in this place is holding a Christmas-tree-sized grudge.”
“They were,” he said, taking my hand again and pulling me through the crowd and onto a much less crowded sidewalk. “All my days were darker before you were in them. But I kept to myself while I was here. Becoming a beast was a far more dangerous situation back then. There were times I’d wake up and have no idea what I had done. I was extremely careful to keep to myself, to keep people out of harm’s way.”
“Then maybe it doesn’t have anything to do with you.” We were strolling the sidewalk now, instinctively heading toward the woods, as we always did when woods were in view, as though they were our home. “You know, not everything is about Abram the Beast.”
“Now’s not the time, Char,” he said, glaring at me. “We must consider all possibilities, and my time here can’t be overlooked.”
The reality of the situation sunk in, heavy on my chest. He was right, of course, which I hated to admit for more reasons than one. Between the timing and the obvious magic involved, we would be foolish to not think this had something to do with him.
“Okay then,” I said. “There’s only one place to start.”
Abram gave a resolute nod. “The woman on the list. We have to find her,” he said. “They said her name was Amanda Carter. I doubt any of the people in town will be helpful. We’ll have to get to Town Hall. I’ll break in and search through the records until I find—”
“1703 Sexton Way.”
“What? How did you—”
“Google,” I said, holding up my phone. “God, you’re old.”
*
It occurred to me, as we walked the three quarters of a mile that my phone’s navigation system promised would lead us to Amanda Carter’s residence, that we probably wouldn’t have to move the car the entire time we were here.
Hope’s Bluff was a miniature town where everything and everyone was thrown together so closely that it was likely difficult to keep secrets. These people—the ones who wouldn’t talk to us, who said their miniature town’s very non-miniature problem was ‘none of our business’—knew exactly what Amanda had done to get herself in this situation.
They also likely knew it was too late.
They had dealt with this for sixty years. Most of the people in town had never known a real Christmas, had never known Santa Claus as anything other than some boogeyman ready and willing to toss out fatal punishment to anyone he saw as deserving. They had never been able to stop him and, judging from the way they went on about their business after Amanda ran away, had basically stopped trying.
My navigation system made a new alert: “Turn left onto Sexton Way. Your destination will be on the right.”
“I find that woman’s voice unsettling,” Abram said as we took the appointed left.
“Is that because she’s robotic or because she tells you what to do?” I asked.
“I’m not sure. Maybe both.” He grinned. “As long as you don’t tell me what to do, I think we’re okay.”
“Oh, please. You would love it if I told you what to do.” I gave him a nudge. It was meant for his shoulder, but since he was so damn tall, it landed somewhere along his ribcage. “Besides, we both know I’m the smart one.”
He raised an eyebrow in response, and I play-slapped his arm.
He grabbed me by the arms and stared down into my eyes. “I would be careful, if I were you,” he said huskily. “You may be the smart one, but I can make you beg.”
A fire lit up my cheeks, and I closed my eyes as he leaned in to press his mouth against mine. Between his touch and kiss, the power he had over me tingled through every nerve in my body—more importantly, the ones that made me want to say, “Screw this Amanda chick, let’s book it back to the hotel.”
A soft whimper escaped my lips, and Abram pulled back. There was a hunger in his gaze that I recognized immediately. He wanted me as badly as I did him. But it wasn’t all him. There was something primal in his gaze, something animalistic in the way he strode beside me now.
My eyes flickered past him. The sun set completely, and a vibrant moon bloomed in the sky. The beast was dancing inside of him now, and it wanted me, too. To ravage me so thoroughly, so completely, that no mere man could ever come close to what we would experience.
His nostrils flared, and his expression softened. That was the kind of self-control I was up against.
“I suppose that settles that,” he said. “Next time we’re alone, tell me again how smart you are.”
His smirk would have been irritating on anyone else’s face, but with him, I knew it was all play.
“How’s our friend?” I asked, trailing his arm with my fingernails. “The moon’s looking mighty full. You sure we can handle this?”
His expression hardened. “I’m fine, Charisse. It’s not even close to midnight. You know the curse is manageable until then.”
I did, but I also knew that every minute leading up to midnight made it harder for Abram to keep the animal at bay. Each passing hour would make him more feral. His looks would grow longer. His hands would cling tighter. His actions—well, he would be completely without inhibition. The beast would make sure of that. He’d cloud Abram’s mind until there was nothing left but want and desire. For food, for flesh, for blood, for me.
And if I was being honest with that, I found those hours leading up to midnight more thrilling than they were terrifying.
But that didn’t matter now. Abram was right. We had hours until we needed to worry about that, and those hours could be spent in other ways…like trying to save this poor woman’s life. Damn it, these Conduits really knew how to ruin a girl’s sex life.
My navigation sounded again. “Your destination is on the right.”
We stood in front of a modest white house with red shutters and a matching door. I couldn’t help but remember what my mother always told me about evil lurking behind red doors, but I shook it off. There was no time for old folklore now.
“What do we do?” I asked as Abram and I cut through the front yard toward the porch.
“First, we knock,” he said. “If she answers, we try to get her to listen to us. We can help with or without her cooperation, but if we’re able to talk some sense into her, it’ll make the entire thing much easier.”
We settled on the front porch, and I was a little less than confident we would be able to convince Amanda to let us help. She had been so defensive about everything back on Main Street before running off into the woods.
“What if she isn’t here?” I looked up at Abram. “She bolted off so quickly. Maybe she didn’t come home?”
“She’s here,” Abram said, holding a hand up to silence me. His eyes widened. “In fact, she’s not alone. I hear two heartbeats.”
Abram twisted the door handle, but it didn’t budge. So he did what any unreasonable beast of a man would do—he reared back and leveled a massive boot into the door.
A few broken hinges and one split door later, a scream echoed from inside the house.
“Abram, he’s here,” I said, covering my mouth with my hand.
Abram bolted inside. I ran after him, but he was a blur in front of me. I stumbled after him through what turned out to be a humble house.
“No!” someone yelled as the blur that was Abram made a hard left into a tiny living room.
My heart in my throat, I turned to follow, slamming right into Abram’s back.
“What the hell are you stopping for? Get him!” I yelled. But as I backed away, gathering myself, I saw exactly why Abram wasn’t springing into action.
There was no one to attack.
Amanda stood beside a fireplace at the end of the room. Her eyes were puffed and watery, and she held a butcher knife out in front of her with a shaky hand. Behind her, clasping into her legs, was the source of the second h
eartbeat.
A little girl hid behind Amanda, peering out between the older woman’s legs. She couldn’t have been more than six and, if she was afraid, I couldn’t tell it from the way she was looking at us.
“Get away from here!” Amanda screamed, waving the blade in the air.
Looking around, I saw the room was decorated. A small Christmas tree, covered with lights and ribbon, jutted from floor to ceiling in the corner. Red and white bulbs dotted the fireplace, and stockings hung with two names: Amanda and Carly.
“We’re not here to hurt you,” Abram said. “My name is Abram. This is Charisse,” he said, motioning to me. “We’re visiting your town. We can help.”
“I know who you are,” she spit out. “I saw you with the rest of them on Main Street. You’re with him, aren’t you?” She waved the knife again. “Well, you tell him he’s not getting me. Tell him I’m a good mother, no matter what those pretentious bastards in town have to say about it.” She nodded toward the little girl. “If you don’t believe me, ask Carly. She’ll tell you.”
She reached behind herself with her free hand, patting Carly’s back. “You tell ‘em, sweetie. Tell them I’m a good mother.”
“She really is,” Carly answered and, just as I suspected, there wasn’t even a hint of fear in her voice. She was a trooper, this girl. And I would guess that was because she had to be.
Figuring I was a less imposing figure than Abram, I inched closer to the mother and her daughter. “We’re not going to hurt you,” I said. “Whatever relationship you do or don’t have with your daughter isn’t our business.”
Child protective services, maybe, I added to myself. Though to be fair, we didn’t know what was really going on just yet.
“And we’re not with—God, I can’t believe I’m actually saying these words out loud. We’re not with Santa Claus, okay?” I raised my hands, palms forward to show her they were empty. “This is what we do. We’re sort of problem solvers for people with mystical afflictions.” My eyes darted back to Abram. “We both have particular skillsets, and we find that they come in handy when dealing with the sort of situations you happen to find yourself in tonight.”
Alphas Unwrapped: 21 New Steamy Paranormal Tales of Shifters, Vampires, Werewolves, Dragons, Witches, Angels, Demons, Fey, and More Page 66