It took less than a breath to melt into his touch, to sink back into the days when they were best friends and shared everything with one another. When they spent days enjoying clan gatherings and their worries were nothing more than stealing a kiss. Still, those stolen kisses took on a life of their own and that life had been ripped away in a single afternoon.
Christmastide.
Treasa could not go back there. Not for a second. So she pushed him away with words. “I lay with him.”
Cullen’s fingers tightened slightly and his pupils flared. Black simmered in his eyes and she knew he was seeking truth via magic.
“I’m a witch so put away your hat tricks. They won’t work on me,” she said.
“But what kind of witch can block my magic I wonder,” he murmured.
Pulling on every ounce of strength she had, Treasa ducked away. “Let’s get back to that.” She strolled alongside the train track, assuming he would follow. “That’s kinda why I took the last name, Yule.”
“Go on.” He was close behind.
“Due to circumstances I’m now what you’d call a yuletide witch,” she said. “Cursed by my ex, the Angel of Death, to forever remain trapped within yule, such as it is.”
“Death’s a sonofabitch,” he muttered.
When she shot him a look over her shoulder, he shrugged. A dusting of mirth met his eyes. “He is.”
“Yeah, well, in my case he didn’t like me breaking it off and decided to punish me by sticking me here until I came to my senses or…”
When she faltered, he said, “Or what?”
Treasa hit the button that made the gate go down so the train had to stop. “Or until time ran out.”
“Speaking of time,” said Gop as ‘she’ entered, hair speckled with snow, mournful teenage eyes locking on Cullen. “It seems a bit of a countdown has started.”
Meddlesome ghost. Nothing but a trouble maker. “It’s been a long time…Gop?”
“My name is Ghost of Christmas Past,” it said indignantly to Treasa.
“Ghost of Christmas something,” she said, glaring at the pitiful teenager. At the stroke of midnight, she had remembered everything about this spirit. “If I recall correctly, you knew exactly what was going to happen to my village so long ago.”
Cullen shook his head. “Aim your dirty look about four feet lower, Treasa. This is technically my past so he’s a worthless wee thing.”
She scowled. “Isn’t that the truth.”
“Fine, see me as he does.” Gop waved its hand and appeared to her as a tiny, gray-haired man with melancholy eyes.
Treasa winced. That was how Cullen saw his past? Sort of irritating considering she was part of it. But best not to over reflect. Time to focus. “So it’s officially begun?”
Cullen looked between them. “What?”
“That’s what I was working toward.” She sidled past him, way too aware of his broad shoulders and chiseled body. “The reason I summoned you.”
Before she could go far, he grabbed her upper arm and his eyes locked on hers. “Not another step until I know exactly what I’m facing.”
When a Christmas tree bulb bounced off of Gop’s nose, the ghost scowled and batted it away. “You haven’t told him yet, witch?”
She tried to pull her arm free, but Cullen had a vice grip on her.
“I was getting to it,” she said.
Cullen wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her back against him, his rumbling words a warning in her ear. “Then you best spit it out now.”
Treasa’s heart hammered into her throat and heat burned through her veins. She had forgotten what it felt like to be against him. “Let me go, Cullen.”
His hot breath fanned the side of her neck and sparked alarming shivers of pleasure. “Tell me and I will.”
She knew he wouldn’t budge until he got what he wanted so she fessed up. “There was this stipulation. If I called on any sort of divine intervention to help me escape it would begin a yuletide countdown that ends at midnight.”
She heard the frown in his voice. “Explain.”
Heaven above, he smelled wonderful. Spice. A hint of supple leather. And damn, his thigh muscles felt like solid rock. So did something else.
Gop responded, rolling his eyes as he leapt aside so Ghost could roll down the tracks past him. “The Angel of Death was always jealous of you, Highlander. And apparently overly cautious too because he put a stipulation on what should have been a solid curse. Even if you ever fell from Heaven and tried to save the witch, it would be no easy task.”
“That’s not just cautious but downright prophetic,” Cullen said. “Because I’ve yet to meet another fallen angel.”
“Oh, there are plenty about,” Ghost chirped, bouncing off of Gop until the little man howled in frustration and used a mini lamppost to bat his rival across the room.
Cullen spun Treasa and held her arms, eyes narrowed, lips set in a grim line. “What happens at midnight?”
Though it by no means vanished altogether, anger started to slowly dissipate as she stared into his eyes. Instead, a nugget of fear tried to surface. Likely because some part of her saw him as safety. Once upon a time, he had been the bravest man she knew. The fiercest of warriors. But above all, he had been a protector of the innocent.
“If I don’t give in to the Angel of Death and become his, I’ll die at midnight,” she whispered. “No more being stuck in between life and death.”
A mixture of distress and frustration flickered in his eyes before they hardened. “You apparently had a strong impact on your ex.” A muscle ticked in his cheek. “How am I supposed to stop this curse?”
Treasa shook her head. “I have no idea.”
Gop, totally on his own page, patted his body, now a few inches taller. “Is your past not already looking better, Highlander?” He winked. “Just keep holding her.”
Cullen stared at Treasa before he stepped away and contemplated Gop. “I’m not worried about my past right now. But it seems I’ll need help from the Ghost of Christmas Future after all.”
“Oh, not yet!” Ghost wailed. “When there’s still so much present to be had.”
“Vous avez appelé? You called?”
Treasa groaned. “Really, Cullen?”
About five feet tall on a good day, a slender man in an immaculate business suit walked in. A pen tucked behind his ear, he held a clipboard at the ready. “Vous avez appelé et je suis ici. Bien que je suis le Fantôme de l'avenir de Noël, vous pouvez appelez-moi Noël. You called and I am here. Though I am the Ghost of Christmas Future you can call me Noël.”
No matter how long you knew him, Noël greeted everyone that way the first time he appeared at Christmas.
Even Cullen flinched. Noël was exasperating with his love for the French language. As was always his way, the Stewart didn’t mince words as he eyed the studious man. “Thanks for coming but I’ll revoke my calling if you speak another word of French besides your name, got it? You mangle the accent so badly it’s rough on the ears.”
The man’s face remained as smooth as clay. “Then I ask that you refrain from the brogue. It’s equally rough on the ears.”
“Then I ask that ye get the bloody hell out of here.”
“Yes, please,” Gop and Ghost said at the same time.
“Fine.” Noël spun on his heel.
“Stop,” Cullen groused. “No brogue.”
Noël cocked his head. “Then we are in agreement.”
“For now,” Cullen relented.
"Very well," Noël said. "How can I assist you?"
“Tell me exactly how to get Treasa out of this bind safely.”
“Oh, yes, yes, yes.” Noël took the pen from behind his ear and started scribbling on his clipboard as he exited the cottage.
Cullen pulled her after him, voice low. “Let’s take a walk while Noël works out his math because we both know it’ll likely take him a while.”
Noël already had Gop and Ghost lined up in fr
ont of him in the driving snow as he looked them up and down, calculating something only he could see. They probably had a few hours yet before he got started on them.
“Clever way to get the ghosts off our back,” she said.
Cullen winked and quickly pulled her up the path leading deeper into the village. Twinkling blue and white pines lined either side of the thruway as Blue Christmas played. Cullen took off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders as they walked. Only then did she realize that she felt the chilled air, that she felt the icy snowflakes. She stopped short, eyes wide as her breath came out in foggy puffs.
“Whoa,” she whispered, trying to catch the fog with her hand. “This is for real.”
“Yup. Sure is.” Cullen’s brows lowered along with the corners of his lips as he pulled her after him. “I want to stay away from those ghosts for as long as possible. Where can we go?”
A response died on her lips when a frigid wind that had nothing to do with the weather swept over them. Cullen’s eyes turned inky black and his shoulders flexed as though he still had wings. “The Angel of Death is here somewhere, isn’t he?”
“Yeah.” Chills raced up her spine. “More so as it gets closer to midnight.”
She heard a low buzzing, followed by a muttered, “Damn,” before Seth trudged out of the forest in front of them. EMF detector still held out in front of him, surprise lit his eyes when they locked on her. “You must be...Treasa?”
“Yes.” She grinned. “Nice to finally meet you, Seth. In person that is.”
“You too.” Seth grinned as well. “Glad I got the chance. Gotta love warlock magic I guess.”
Cullen nodded at the device. “Why don’t you take us wherever that thing isn’t going off as much? Anywhere that gets us away from otherworldly activity.”
“Are you sure?” Seth’s expression soured. “Because I almost think the nasty readings I’m picking up out here are better than Candy Cane World.”
“You might be right.” Cullen nodded at Seth. “But lead the way.”
They had just started walking when snow whipped and twisted around them.
“Oh no.” Treasa started chanting, but she had forgotten how moody and determined the Angel of Death could be. Wind shoved her back so harshly that she started to slide downhill as the angel’s strange powers wrapped around her.
“Crap.” She summoned snowshoes.
“No,” Cullen roared, eyes black as lightning crackled off his sword and melted the snow around her. Leave it to him to manifest a medieval claymore to fight Death.
“Really not good,” she cried, hitting pavement when she might have been sliding. Luckily, Cullen was fast. Before her ex could swarm in and grab her, the Stewart tossed aside his sword and flung her over his shoulder.
Then all she saw was an upside down view of Cullen and Seth weaving spells in Latin as they ran. And slid. Because it was damn slippery. But it seemed Candy Canes would indeed save the day. At least for now. Though not precisely a horseshoe, the popular kid’s attraction was close enough in shape to ward off evil spirits.
Or in this case, her ex-boyfriend.
Not that the Angel of Death was evil. Yet he was not good either. Or so thought the general populace.
Somewhere between peppermint, liquorish and butterscotch the three of them plunked down in a dizzying room that had to be the Tooth Fairy’s worst nightmare. Trying to avoid the overwhelming scents, Treasa buried her nose in Cullen’s jacket. Big mistake. It smelled like him. Tempting. Masculine. Dangerous.
Cullen’s eyes remained glued to the entrance. “So I take it that was nothing compared to what we can expect with this yuletide curse.”
“Here’s hoping.” Seth smiled. “That means this night’s starting to look up.”
“You’ve no idea what we’re up against.” Cullen shook his head. “The Angel of Death is unpredictable.”
“The Angel of Death? That’s a new one.” Seth shrugged. “Hey, I get the danger in it.” He stood and pocketed his EMF detector, renewed excitement in his eyes. “I was dead and went up against a reaper once.”
Cullen eyed him as he pulled Treasa up. “Really?”
Seth nodded. “Yup. Not that long ago either. It wasn’t so bad in the end just…different.”
“Was the reaper your lass’s ex?” Cullen asked, flicking his wrist so that Treasa’s snowshoes vanished before they made their way along a twirling red and white pathway.
“Negative,” Seth said with a wry grin. “That would’ve sucked.”
“I’m not your lass,” she reminded Cullen.
“So you dated the Angel of Death?” Seth arched his brows at Treasa. “That had to be something.”
“You have no idea.”
They didn’t walk far before Cullen stopped her, determined to continue their previous conversation. “Did you truly lay with Death then?”
“Who created this building anyways?” Seth asked, clearly trying to ease the tension when he saw the distress on her face. “Don’t get me wrong, kids love colors but hell, it’s like trippin’ on a rainbow in here. And not in a good way.”
“Let it go already,” she grumbled at Cullen. “I had sex with my ex. Simple as that.”
“Then there’s the center of this building.” Seth looked between them as they scowled at one another. “It’s a lucky kid that gets the first whack at that Candy Cane piñata.”
Cullen’s eyes never left Treasa’s. “Nothing’s simple about you having had sex with your ex.”
“So what do you suppose they put in a candy cane at the heart of a candy cane building?” Seth interjected. “If it were me, I’d put in some chocolate. Mix it up a little.”
When Treasa and Cullen frowned at him, he only shrugged.
Treasa put her hands on her hips, eying Cullen. “I lay with Death. So just let it go.”
Seth started talking again but snapped his mouth shut when they shook their heads sharply.
“I can’t let it go.” Cullen clasped her shoulders, eyes deadly serious. “Because if you did then there will be no saving you. There will be no possible death at midnight based on a curse.” His eyes narrowed. “At least in death your soul would carry on with its journey. But if you already slept with the Angel of Death then something far worse will happen. Unless you become his, your soul will simply cease to exist.”
Chapter Five
CULLEN KEPT FURY at bay as he walked Treasa back against a candy cane pole, cupped her cheeks and forced her to look at him. “Did you truly lay with him then?”
Officially uncomfortable or tired of trying to change the subject, Seth said, “Be right back. I’m gonna scan the perimeters to see if there are any weaknesses in this place.”
“How many times do I have to tell you? Yes,” Treasa said to Cullen. Yet her voice sounded cautious. “But will it really mean the death of my soul?”
Though furious that she even dated the guy, there could be no blame for her current ignorance. The divine were very good at keeping their secrets. But this one scared him. An emotion he thought himself no longer capable of. “If your ex merged with your physical flesh then this little curse he put on you is nothing more than a game. A means to watch you squirm until he gets his way and you either go to him or meet your end. If you slept with him, then he already owns your soul to do with what he will. I couldn’t save you any more than God could.”
Visible relief flashed in her eyes, then distrust. “How do you know this?”
His rigid muscles relaxed. She had not slept with Death. Now it was time to once more ignite her anger. “I was an angel. That sort of gave me the inside scoop on things.”
“Ah, how could I forget.” Her chin hitched as she read clearly in his eyes that he knew the truth. “So now that you have the answer you were hoping for any new ideas about how to save me?”
“I’d say we both got the answer we were hoping for.” He ran the pads of his thumbs over her soft cheekbones, so damn grateful to touch her again. “There’s only on
e way I could ever pull you out of this mess and it’s impossible.”
“Tell me,” she murmured, eyes searching his.
“I think you know,” he said, voice guttural. “I think you knew the minute I showed up here.”
“Your wings. You need them back,” she whispered. Her eyes slid shut before they snapped open. He expected to see anger but instead saw compassion. “I’m sorry about what happened with your twin, Brae.” Then she surprised him even further. “I might’ve cursed you a million different ways for leaving me, but I never would’ve wished what happened on you. I know how much you loved your sister.”
Cullen was done worrying about Brae. She chose her path. Now he was on his. One that he was grateful for. One that almost felt like divine intervention. He cupped the side of Treasa’s neck and stroked her silky hair. “Nothing matters now but saving you. I just have to figure out how the hell I’m supposed to do that.”
Her eyes drifted to his shoulders, pained for a moment as she apparently looked into their past. “I still remember how your wings looked the first time you spread them. How much anger and pride I felt. You were so damn beautiful.”
Jaw clenched, he reflected on the past as well. “It was an indescribable feeling.” He shook his head. “But too painful.”
Her eyes returned to his. “So they hurt?”
“Nay.” Treasa might not like the truth, but she needed to hear it. She needed to understand how much he cared. “’Twas leaving ye behind that hurt like bloody hell, lass.”
While she might have softened moments ago, his impassioned words made her straighten. “I give you an inch and you take a mile.”
“That was an inch then?” Frustrated, he pulled away and shook his head. Despite her denial, he was aroused. Blame it on the evil within but he couldn’t help but mutter under his breath, “I’d like to give you far more than an inch.”
Her eyes widened on his groin before flickering back to his face. “You really have changed, haven’t you?”
Alphas Unwrapped: 21 New Steamy Paranormal Tales of Shifters, Vampires, Werewolves, Dragons, Witches, Angels, Demons, Fey, and More Page 155