Alphas Unwrapped: 21 New Steamy Paranormal Tales of Shifters, Vampires, Werewolves, Dragons, Witches, Angels, Demons, Fey, and More

by Michele Bardsley

  I shooed her off to the corner farthest from Abram and Santa. She ran as quickly as she could and threw her back against the wall, then slid to a seat.

  “I’m in a bubble, I’m in a bubble,” she said, over and over again.

  Good girl.

  I started back toward Abram’s side, but Santa flicked his wrist. Suddenly, an unseen hammer landed against my back. I fell to the floor, oomphing as the breath was knocked out of me.

  Hot huffs of breath landed on my neck as I tried to rid myself of the bright lights now coloring my vision.

  My head ached as I turned to look behind me.

  “Jesus!” I screamed, jerking as I took it in. Standing over me, flared nostrils and thick fur, was a reindeer.

  Rudolph had just knocked me on my ass.

  I lifted myself up, but the deer put a hard kick into my ribcage, knocking me back down. Something cracked as I slammed against the floor, likely a rib or ten.

  The taste of blood flashed metallic in my mouth; I’d bit my lip again. It was harder this time, and it deepened the cut I had made earlier to give Carly my blood. Red poured from my mouth and dripped to the carpet.

  “Hell no…” I’d had enough of this.

  Behind me, Abram grunted as he struggled to keep a demonic Santa Claus at bay, and in front of me, a girl who had never hurt anyone was afraid for her life.

  I wasn’t having it. Not any longer.

  Anger rushed through me and, with it, energy. My blood might have been spilling out from my lip, but there was still more than enough inside of me to make this a fair fight.

  I slapped my hands together. A wave of energy, gold and brutal, rushed to and through the reindeer. I wasn’t sure whether the hooved animal was a construct or not but, as the wave hit it, the stupid thing disintegrated into coal and dust.

  I stumbled to my feet, trying not to think of what I’d just done. I hadn’t killed Rudolph. It was an evil reindeer—probably not even a real one. I’d had no choice.

  The energy still burned inside me, which was good. Because as I focused on the pair in front of me, Santa skewered Abram with a fistful of tentacle like claws.

  “Get away from my boyfriend!” This time I sent another, more powerful wave toward Santa.

  He threw his hand up and redirected it to slam into me, searing through my insides. I crumpled onto the floor.

  “Charisse!” Abram screamed, but he was in no position to help. Santa lifted him over his head and tossed him in my direction.

  Before I could gather the strength to move, Abram collided with me. His massive frame cracked at least two more bones as his body pinned mine against the floor. Abram had it worse, though. He lay unconscious on top of me.

  Boots slapped wood as Santa stomped nearer. He settled in front of me, looking me up and down. I pulled hard, trying to free myself, but Abram’s weight was too much of an albatross.

  “Your blood calls to me, Supplicant.” He shook his head. “Did you know blood was a living thing? Even after death, it retains so much of who and what a person was. That’s why I take it. The blood of the people who I’ve brought to justice runs through my veins. It gives me life. It’s that little bit of magic that allows me to stay here.”

  “You’re an abomination,” I said through clenched teeth. “You go against everything Christmas is all about.”

  Santa’s lips curled into a frightening grin. “And what exactly is Christmas all about? Do you even know?” He tapped his booted foot. “Who does it belong to, exactly? Because you see, once upon a time, it was a pagan holiday. It belonged to those who would harness this world’s magic, which is exactly what I’ve done. I tap into the spirits of those who have been wronged, and I use that to feed myself, to keep me strong, to keep me here. I’m their savior.”

  “You’re just a self-serving asshole!”

  He shook his finger at me. “Didn’t you’re mama teach you cursing is naughty?”

  “Maybe not, but she sure taught me right from wrong.”

  “I only go after the guilty,” Santa said, “and I use the power of those wronged to do it. The magic is on my side, this time. Not yours.”

  I tried again to shift Abram’s weight off of me, but before I could make any effort, Santa turned away from me. Horrifyingly, he started toward Carly.

  “I’m in a bubble,” she said. “I’m in a bubble.”

  “She hasn’t done anything!” I screamed, still trying to pull myself from underneath Abram. “She’s not guilty. “

  “You got me there,” Santa said, black eyes moving to where Carly sat. “But that only means I can’t feed on her then.” He crept closer to her. “It doesn’t mean I can’t kill her.”

  “I’m in a bubble.” Carly sobbed through her words. “I’m in a bubble.”

  “We’ll see about that.” Santa reared back a clawed hand.

  “No!” I screamed, but I might as well have been howling into the void for all the good it would do. I still couldn’t move. Not even an inch.

  Santa brought his claw down. Inches away from Carly’s face, it stopped. A bright blue bubble appeared around her, knocking him backward.

  “That’s my girl!” I said, my heart leaping. “Keep it up!”

  “I’m in a bubble,” she repeated. “I’m in a bubble. I’m in a great big bubble.”

  “This will barely even slow me down.” Santa growled, looking over at me. “It certainly won’t stop me.”

  “I will.” Abram’s voice was weak and low, but he was moving now.

  He stood, stretching lithe muscles and crouching again.

  “Is that so?” Santa said just before the two of them dove at each other.

  Santa landed a massive blow to Abram’s side that sent him yelping backward.

  I moved to my feet, my entire body aching.

  Abram darted back at him, latching his jaw onto Santa’s arm. Santa screamed but lifted Abram off the ground and slammed him hard to the floor.

  This was hard to watch. Abram wouldn’t win this. He just couldn’t. Not by himself.

  Santa kicked Abram so hard in the snout that one of his fangs broke in half. I wanted to rush to him, to help. But there was only one way I knew to help…if it worked.

  I rushed to the bedside and pulled out a nail file. It had a small and modest blade which would have been laughable against a true demon like Santa. But I wasn’t going to use it on him.

  I ran it against my arm, cutting myself deep enough to cause a torrent of blood to run to the floor. The ache barely registered over the pain thumping through the rest of my body.

  If this was going to work, then I was going to need a lot of power. And it was going to have to be on hand.

  Dropping to my knees, I closed my eyes, letting my emotions run wild.

  Abram screamed. Bones crunched. They might as well have been mine for as much as it pained me. But I had to put that out of my mind.

  I started thinking about what Santa had said, about all the wronged people he was ‘helping.’ I tapped into them and, to my surprise, they tapped back into me. I could feel it, all the people who had lost their lives in this town over the last fifty years, all the memories that never got to happen because of one monster’s selfish and twisted machinations. They flooded me, more than I could have imagined, more than I could have either hoped for or dreaded.

  And then, when they told me to, I opened my eyes.

  Abram lay twisted and broken on the floor, Santa standing over him, claw raised. As the demon’s fist came down, all the spirits—every soul that existed in the blood that ran through Santa’s veins—started to revolt.

  Santa twitched, stumbling back. His black eyes grew wide, and he hissed. “What…have you…done?”

  “Me? Not a thing?” I said. “You however, have got a lot to make up for. You said it yourself—the people who were wronged need to be brought to justice. What about the people you’ve wronged?”

  He doubled over, grabbing his gut and shaking hard.

  “They d
eserve justice, too,” I said, “and they’re taking it.”

  “What did—?”

  “I set them free, big boy, and, as you might imagine, there’s only one way out.”

  “They’ll tear me apart,” he said, dropping to his knees. “Like the reindeer.” He convulsed on the floor. “They’ll turn me…into dust…and coal.”

  I settled over him, watching him as he contorted in pain. “Well, that’s what you get for being naughty.”

  And then, just like he predicted, that sonofabitch exploded into a mist of coal.

  Chapter 15

  A flash of light later, the entire world changed. It was morning again—Christmas morning. Abram and I were back in the Inn, lying in bed and keeping each other warm.

  “What happened?” I asked, too comfortable and content to complain.

  “When you sent Santa back, it reversed the spell,” Abram said, squeezing my hand.

  “I didn’t kill him?” I asked, looking up at him.

  “It’s a little harder to kill a demon,” he said. “Though, if the stories are true, where he went, he very likely might wish he was dead.”

  I grinned, and leaned my head against his chest. “Good.”

  *

  A few hours later, we managed our way downstairs. The sun was bright and happy in the cold sky and there was a lightness that this place had earned with decades of blood and sacrifice.

  As we descended the stairs, arm in arm, the sight of the lobby brought happy tears to my eyes.

  An honest to God Christmas tree sat in the center of the lobby. Dudley sat in a chair beside it, an actual smile on his face, passing out presents.

  Annabeth stood beside him, looking light years away from the frail, sad woman who’d been trapped in this place. And, best of all, Carly sat on the floor beneath them, hungrily tearing at present after present.

  “Hey, there,” Dudley said, catching sight of us. “We thought you guys were going to sleep forever.”

  “You have a tree.” I smiled, walking down the stairs with Abram.

  “We’ve got it all.” He chuckled as Carly grabbed a gift right out of his hands and pulled off the wrapping paper. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

  “Feels right,” Annabeth said. She walked toward us, her eyes settling into a more serious gaze. “Look, I want to apologize. What I did was wrong.”

  “You did what you thought you had to do to save these people. Though I didn’t like it, I can certainly understand it,” I said. “Even if you did sort of help yourself to my boyfriend in the process.”

  “Can you blame me?” She grinned, looking him up and down.

  I hooped my arm around his waist. “Not a bit,” I said, then I leveled my gaze at her. “But I won’t let you do it again, so don’t get any ideas.”

  “So, the town,” Abram said. “What happened? What do they know?”

  “It’s gone,” Annabeth said. “They’re free. None of them remember the other world or the lives they lived in it. Only supernaturals do.”

  I looked over at Carly. She remembered everything, though it didn’t seem to bother her.

  “I think it helped her,” Annabeth said, as though reading my thoughts from my expression. “It made what happened to her mother seem a little further off. You gave her closure, Charisse. Even if you didn’t mean to.”

  “What’s going to happen to her?” I asked, my mouth tightening.

  “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Annabeth said. “Specifics of my spell aside, I’m happy for the two of you.” She looked at Abram. “I see what you have, how it’s changed you, how it’s made you whole. It’s inspired me. I finally know what I want to do with my life.”

  “Carly,” I said, reading her expression right back.

  “The girl is a Conduit, and a pretty special one. I can help her. She needs a mother, someone who can teach her about who and what she is. I can be both of those things. And who knows,” she added, her gaze moving back to the living room. “Maybe I’ll find a love of my own.”

  “Dudley?” My nose scrunched.

  “I know he’s not much to look at,” she said, not taking her eyes off him. “But he’s a good man. He’s smart, and sweet. And he’s as funny as they come. Besides—” She turned back to Abram and me. “—maybe I’ve had enough of the dark and handsome type for one lifetime. I think I’m ready for something a little more subdued.”

  Abram patted her on the shoulder. “I’m happy for you.”

  “I’m happy for you, too,” she said, smiling in a way that told me she really meant it. “And thank you. Thank you both for saving me.” She looked back at Dudley and Carly. “In so many ways.”

  *

  Abram and I strolled down Main Street. This place had been so empty when we first came here, but now Hope’s Bluff was something different. Decorations hung freely in the street. Music filled the air, and people moved about with a lightness and abandon that they hadn’t in fifty years.

  “You know,” I said, resting my head against Abram’s shoulder as we walked through town. “I think I’m starting to understand what you saw in this place.”

  “It’s not bad,” he said, “but honestly…I think I’m over it.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I asked, looking up at him.

  “This place was good for me when I needed it. It helped me find myself. But I’m already found now, and I like where I am. I like who I’m with.” He squeezed my hand. “I don’t want to look back at where I’ve been anymore, Charisse. Not when where I’m going is so damn exciting.” With that, he spun me toward him, lifting me from my feet and kissing me hard on the lips. “I love you, baby.”

  “I love you, too,” I said, breathless as he set me back down.

  As we continued through the streets, soft snow started falling on the first Christmas Hope’s Bluff had seen in fifty years.

  The End

  Check out more of the complete Conduit Series on Amazon! http://amzn.to/1LmwNba

  Learn more about the Conduit Series at http://www.shifterromances.com

  About Kressley & Hamilton

  Conner Kressley is a USA TODAY Bestselling Author represented by Rossano Trentin of TZLA. He is an avid reader and all around lover of storytelling. His book “The Breaker’s Code” is the first in the epic “Fixed Points” series that pits free will against fate and true love against good intentions and bad situations. You can learn more about Conner and his books below.

  http://amzn.to/1KYP9eP

  Rebecca Hamilton is a USA Today Bestselling Paranormal Fantasy author who also dabbles in Horror and Literary Fiction. She lives in Florida with her husband and four kids. She is represented by Rossano Trentin of TZLA and has been published internationally, in three languages. You can learn more about Rebecca and her books below.

  http://amzn.to/1KYPaPK

  Read More co-written works of Kressley and Hamilton.

  www.shifterromances.com

  Bite of Frost

  (A Dragon Blade Novella)

  By

  Gena D. Lutz

  Copyright © 2015 Gena D. Lutz

  All Rights Reserved

  Published by Gena D. Lutz

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. All characters and events in this story are fictitious. They are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events, organizations, or persons is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without expressed written permission from the author.

  Cover Design by: Covers by Christian

  Proof by: Alicia Carmical

  Editing by: Kittie Kat Tales Editing by Kitten Jackson

  Interior book design by Bob Houston eBo
ok Formatting

  Dragon Blade: An indestructible weapon with the potential to destroy the world.

  Frost: A Frost carries within him/her the spirit of winter. No matter the species, when chosen, the Frost is required to feed from a dragon, before his/her heart freezes over.

  Rime: Creatures who target humans for food. Their hair and skin are white. They prefer to live in cold climates, because extreme heat weakens them.

  Sentry: Dragon warrior bound by an ancient duty to guard the Dragon Blade.

  Chapter One

  Winter Haven, Colorado

  ***

  The knowledge that he would soon cast a sheet of eternal ice over his very own daughter’s mortal soul had Jack Frost teetering on the edge of insanity.

  A full moon shone brightly at its zenith, as Frost’s claws dug deep into the bark of a tree branch. Easing forward, he peered down, between frozen leaves, to get an unimpeded view of his daughter, Jericha. She was one of three children he’d fathered from dalliances with human women over the centuries. The child had been special to him from the moment she was born, with her arctic blue eyes and white hair that matched his own. Magic radiated from her, which was proof that she was his only child with the potential to carry the harsh burn of winter long enough to complete the change. She was a Frost-born.

  The sounds of tiny silver bells rang out through the desolate streets, as Jericha pushed open a door and strode out of the Coffee Berry, the small town’s only coffee shop. As the door slammed shut, long shards of ice teetered over Jericha’s head.

  Jack Frost narrowed his blue eyes at the blades of ice and sent out a mental command. In an instant, the sharp pieces welded back in place, obediently becoming once more a part of the roofline.

  His eyes slashed forward, as he heard the crunch of footfalls against the snow underneath him. That snow was a carbon copy of the crystallized water that had transformed his own life’s blood into ice some thousand years ago, ultimately transforming him into who he was—the spirit of winter.