The Bite Before Christmas

by Laura Baumbach, Sedonia Guillone, Kit Tunstall

  Jesse nodded, one last spike of guilt catching him in the gut. “Thank you,” he murmured, then turned and headed toward the entrance of the club. He bypassed the line of people at the door, his gaze roving absently over the spiked hair, nose rings, kinky leather, and tattoos as he approached the mohawked, six-foot-five bouncer.

  The bouncer looked down at him past his multiple nose rings. “Wait in line, like everyone else.”

  The door opened and a blast of techno music wafted out, dying down again with the closing of the door.

  Jesse gave him a hard look. “I’m here to see Noiret.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Jesse Harmon.”

  Recognition lit the meaty man’s face. Apparently, Noiret had already given instructions about him. Without another word, the bouncer stood aside, pulling the door open again.

  Jesse tossed a glance to the line, seeing Lascaux waiting with Serge, as if they were regular guests of the club, then went in, immediately enveloped in music, cigarette smoke and writhing bodies. Lights flashed through the huge dance area, but Jesse ignored the dancers around him, making his way to the corner Noiret always inhabited.

  Noiret was there, a new woman fawning over him, whispering something in his ear. God only knew what Noiret had done to the blonde from two days ago.

  The vampire must have sensed Jesse’s approach for he looked up, a moment of surprise slithering across his pale features.

  In the next moment, a grin curled his lips and he gestured toward the back of the club.

  Sudden fierce anger pounded through Jesse and he closed the short distance to the table, leaning over in a threatening manner. “I brought what you wanted and I’m here days early, you bastard. You get nothing until I see her.”

  Noiret rose slowly, his gaze piercing Jesse’s. “Yes, I see. You decided on a Christmas present rather than a New Year’s offering.” He paused and took a sip of blood before looking back up. “You’ll see her when I see that you actually do have what I want.”

  Jesse gritted his teeth, ready to pull out his knife and finish Noiret himself. And if Hannah hadn’t been Noiret’s prisoner, he would have. He turned and threaded his way through the writhing throng of dancers toward Noiret’s office.

  Noiret followed him in with two of his goons and closed the door behind them. He perched on the edge of his desk, lighting a cigarette, his two guards behind his chair. He blew a puff of smoke in Jesse’s direction. “Let’s see it.”

  Jesse came forward, pulling the string on the bag as he did so.

  Noiret raised his flaxen eyebrows. “What, no silver platter?”

  Jesse ignored him and reached in the bag, burying his fingers into what was once his lover’s silken gold hair. He tugged the bag down and lifted the head, raising it up for Noiret to inspect.

  Noiret hissed. For the first time since Jesse had interacted with Noiret, the vampire showed an emotion other than sadistic smugness. Jesse suppressed the sensations of horror roiling his gut. Why it was so difficult to remember that the head was a model and not actually Chris’s?

  Noiret drew closer, his cold gray eyes inspecting the flawlessly reproduced likeness. Jesse’s heart pounded fiercely and his hand threatened to shake. The vampire hissed again. “Finally.”

  With a jerking motion, Jesse stuffed the head back into the bag. He then turned on Noiret. “All right, I gave you what you wanted. Now give me my sister.”

  Noiret’s fascination faded, replaced by his customary shit-eating grin. “Very well. I’ll show her to you and then you can go retrieve her.” There was a sound in his voice that chilled Jesse’s very blood.

  Noiret went to his desk, picked up a remote control and pressed a button. A panel above his desk slid aside, revealing a television screen. The vampire pressed another button on the remote and a picture came onto the screen.

  Jesse froze.

  Hannah was there, her lean willowy form bound to a table. Her long raven hair hung over the edges of the table, above a strap across her forehead, holding her head down. Looking closer, he noticed the bounds were formed of hemp, a substance that obviously weakened her. She was utterly defenseless.

  “It seems your sister has a weakness for hemp.” Noiret’s voice slithered like insects inside Jesse’s body. “Oh, don’t worry; I haven’t sullied her purity, the dear. Although it wouldn’t have mattered, the places she was going. Virginal women don’t frequent gambling dens. But she has made good feeding these last few days.”

  Jesse dropped the bag with the fake head, his hand going for his knife. Red hot rage coursed through him. “You fucking bastard!”

  Jesse reached under his coat, sliding the knife out. He charged, knife in hand, his only desire to kill Noiret, but the vampire was too fast and too strong for him. In one swift motion, Noiret had Jesse by the throat and slammed him up against the wall.

  Jesse choked as Noiret lifted him, his feet leaving the ground. Noiret’s eyes glowed with bloodlust and anger. He pushed hard against Jesse’s throat, cutting off his air almost completely.

  “That was a really stupid thing to do, immortal. You’re lucky I don’t order her beheaded this instant. If she weren’t so fucking delicious, I would.” He leaned in closer, giving Jesse a potent whiff of stale cigarettes mixed with death. “Perhaps you’d like to witness the service she’s so generously been providing.” He nodded to his goons.

  Jesse tried to struggle, but Noiret had superior physical strength. Jesse’s glance went to his slaying knife, which had clattered to the floor when Noiret grabbed him.

  “Put him down this instant or I’ll kill you where you stand.”

  Relief sliced through Jesse at the sound of Lascaux’s voice.

  Jesse moved his eyes, seeing Lascaux and Serge standing in the doorway. The music outside the door had been so loud, it drowned out their entrance.

  Noiret turned his head, not easing his grip on Jesse’s throat. “Where are my men? What have you done to them?”

  The corner of Lascaux’s lips curled and a gleam came into his eye. “They’re enthralled with me.”

  “You fucker,” Noiret hissed. He turned to his goons who also stood in the stillness of thrall.

  Lascaux’s grin faded. “You seem to forget I’m more powerful than you are. Now let the immortal go.”

  Noiret’s grip loosened a hair then tightened again. “Big deal. The thrall will wear off. You should have killed them. But you wouldn’t, would you? You’ve gone soft, getting yourself imprisoned for centuries over a piece of pussy. And all the while that priestess bitch was getting it from every angle by her guardians, not you.”

  Jesse saw Lascaux’s expression pain before he visibly gathered himself, not giving in to the baiting.

  Lascaux’s black eyes glittered, the glow of blood lust rising in them. “Let him go now or I’ll kill you. I’m still your sire.”

  Noiret squeezed harder. Jesse choked.

  Lascaux and Serge flew across the space dividing them and Lascaux ripped Noiret off Jesse.

  Jesse grabbed his throat as he slid to the floor. He was unable to move even to retrieve his knife and could only rub his throat while Lascaux grappled with Noiret.

  The two goon vampires, their thrall obviously broken, charged Serge. The small office filled with the sounds of hissing and crashes as fighting escalated. Lascaux grabbed Noiret and threw him across the room into the opposite wall.

  Jesse’s wind came back enough for him to inch forward and grab his knife. He looked up at the screen and sighed in relief. Chris and Philippe were bent over Hannah, removing her bonds.

  Jesse, help! More vampires are attacking me!

  It’s all right, Hannah. They’re with me. They’re rescuing you. I promise.

  On the screen he saw Chris help Hannah sit up. She was looking at him, her expression less frightened. She was going to be okay.

  He turned to see what was happening in the fight around him.

  Serge had felled one of his attackers. The vampire
lay on the floor, lifeless, his head half off.

  Nausea churned Jesse’s gut but he struggled to his feet. Lascaux and Noiret still fought ferociously, cuts open on their faces, healing quickly before they delivered more blows. The furniture in the room was in shards, so much broken, Jesse couldn’t even see the bag with the head in it on the floor.

  Noiret recovered from one of Lascaux’s tackles and rushed his sire, pushing Lascaux onto his back across the rubble of what had once been an office. Noiret’s eyes glowed fiercely and his fangs were bared, displaying his obvious hunger to end Lascaux’s existence. Jesse watched the silent struggle of wills, realizing that even now, Lascaux wanted to end the fight without ending his protégé’s life.

  Yes, the oldest vampire had gone a bit soft. But softer ... Jesse knew now, was better. Noiret represented everything wrong with the world.

  Anger surged hot and fierce in Jesse’s blood. He raised his knife and charged, his old slaying instincts and skills resurging at full force.

  In one strike, he took Noiret’s head clean off. There was not even a second for Noiret to look astonished as his head tumbled off his neck to the rubble.

  The hands loosened their grip on Lascaux and the body slid off him, landing next to the head.

  Jesse stared at Lascaux, his heart still pounding, his chest heaving from the effort of slicing through Noiret. “Are you all right?” He extended a hand to the vampire.

  Lascaux reached out and accepted his help just as Serge came to their sides, having finished off his other attacker.

  “I’m fine.” He sat up slowly and looked at Jesse, a sorrowful expression creasing his handsome features.

  Sudden shame and guilt flooded Jesse. “I’m ... I’m sorry, Lascaux. I didn’t have any ‑‑”

  Lascaux cut him off. “Stop. You couldn’t have done differently.” He sighed deeply and turned his dark gaze onto Serge. Affection softened his eyes. “Not everyone can be saved, no matter how much you care about them.”

  Serge leaned over, gently taking Lascaux’s hand and helping him off the rubble of broken furniture, to his feet. When Lascaux was standing, Serge pulled Lascaux gently into his embrace, his love for Lascaux filling the space around them.

  Lascaux stared down at his dead protégé for another moment before looking back up at Jesse. “Come, now. Let’s go to your sister. Chris and Philippe should have her back to the car by now.”

  Jesse nodded, aching to see Hannah again and to feel Chris in his arms. He stepped away from the rubble where Noiret’s body lay strewn next to his head. Jesse almost threw his knife down too, but changed his mind at the last second. The world was still full of creatures like Noiret, and he wanted to be able to defend those he loved. “What about the goons outside?”

  “Don’t worry about them,” Lascaux answered as they picked their way through the rubble. “The thrall will take them again as we pass. When it’s over, they won’t know who’s done this to Noiret.”

  Jesse sighed. He wiped his knife and tucked it back under his belt, following Serge and Lascaux from the office, thinking only of Chris and of the life he hoped to be spending with him, making love endlessly. Starting in the next few hours, too, with any luck.

  As they made their way through the enthralled crowd, Jesse realized he did have loved ones now to defend. And he would defend them.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jesse sat between Hannah and Chris on Lascaux’s jet. Hannah was in shock, both from having been a prisoner and from having been fed on excessively by Noiret and his goons. She clung to her brother, falling asleep with her head against his shoulder.

  Apparently, Noiret had been able to penetrate her mind link with Jesse and so she kept as much as possible from her brother, protecting him, while she waited for rescue.

  Chris held Jesse’s hand through the entire flight, squeezing Jesse’s fingers comfortingly every so often. Jesse’s heart brimmed with love and gratitude to Chris and everything he’d done for him. Chris and Philippe had found Hannah easily and were able to fight off the vampires guarding her. Because Chris wasn’t completely a CE, he had gone against his vow not to kill, making an exception for Jesse and Hannah’s sakes.

  Jesse looked up at him. Chris. He spoke through their mind link so as not to disturb Hannah.

  Chris returned his gaze, a questioning look on his face. What is it, mon amour?

  Jesse glanced away briefly, preparing himself to speak his heart, something that had always been difficult for him. You don’t know what it means to me, your helping me this way.

  Chris leaned over and kissed Jesse’s mouth softly. He lingered there, lips parting slightly, silently urging Jesse to return the kiss.

  Jesse took the invitation to taste him more deeply, sliding his tongue along Chris’s upper lip and then slipping inside to dance it against Chris’s tongue.

  With rising heat, Chris pressed more firmly, closing his lips together, tugging sensually on Jesse’s lips before ending the kiss. His blue eyes smoldered down into Jesse’s, full of erotic promise. Stop thinking you’re the only sinner on the planet, Jesse. And with that, Chris turned forward in his seat again, squeezing Jesse’s hand where it rested in his on the armrest.

  They remained that way for the rest of the flight and then again, in the limousine that brought them from the airport to Chris’s door.

  Chris caught a glance of the Christmas tree lights blinking through his living room window. Finally, coming home was not a lonely prospect. He smiled as he helped Jesse bring his exhausted, traumatized sister up the front steps, with Lascaux and his lovers behind them. For the first time in centuries, Chris felt a bit of holiday warmth and spirit and was glad he’d succumbed once again to the temptation to put up a tree.

  Once inside the house, Jesse scooped up his sister and carried her to the bedroom Chris directed him to. He watched Jesse pull back the covers and lower his sister down, taking time only to remove her boots. Chris had given her a sedative that would help her sleep well through the night to the next morning. Even though she’d survived her ordeal, immortals were subject to many of the same slings and arrows as their mortal human counterparts and she needed rest.

  Chris felt Jesse’s affection for his sister practically swirling in the air around them. She was obviously Jesse’s twin, judging by her ebony hair, olive skin and Roman beauty. Chris was moved by the gentle, protective way her brother handled her. Watching Jesse’s hands as he pulled up the covers up over her, tucking them under her chin, Chris was struck with the sudden intense longing to have those same hands all over his own body.

  Jesse left his sister sleeping peacefully and joined Chris. The other three vampires stood out in the hall, enquiring after her.

  “She’ll be fine after she’s rested.” Jesse looked at Valmont. “I’ll never be able to repay all of you for what you’ve done.” Jesse bowed his head.

  Lascaux patted Jesse’s dark hair. “If you want to repay us, just take good care of Chris here.”

  Jesse looked up, lips parted in obvious surprise. Slowly, he smiled and looked at Chris. “I can do that.”

  Chris stood in front of his sire, his ethereal heart overwhelmed with affection for him. “Valmont, I can never thank you enough for this.”

  Lascaux reached out, his hands coming to rest on Chris’s shoulders. “You’re welcome and all that is required of you in return is a room for the night.” A grin spread across his dark features and he nodded, indicating his two companions. “One with a very large bed.”

  * * * * *

  Finally, alone again with Chris.

  Jesse stood by the edge of the huge bed, watching Chris rekindle the fire in the hearth and drop a branch of something scented into the flames. In moments, the scent of sandalwood permeated the air, making his body grow languorous. His mouth watered in anticipation of dragging his tongue down the center of Chris’s hard stomach, moving closer to the delicious bulge waiting for his mouth ...

  Chris stood up and approached him. His large blue
eyes reflected the glow of the fire, the light gently dancing off his pale skin and soft dusky lips.

  All Jesse wanted to do was pleasure Chris, to shower on him the same bliss he’d given Jesse earlier, loving him and nursing him back to health in spite of the circumstances that had brought them together.

  Rising up slightly on his toes, Jesse bridged the gap in their heights, his hands coming up to touch Chris’s rugged, yet smooth cheeks. On his back, he felt the press of Chris’s large hands, gently pulling him closer, closing the space between their bodies. And mouths.

  Jesse closed his eyes, slanting his lips over Chris’s. Mmm, so soft, yet so hard. Chris’s musky scent blended with the spices wafting in the air, urging a primal rhythm in Jesse’s heart that traveled down the length of his body to his rising cock.

  With rising hunger, he slipped his tongue between Chris’s lips. Chris answered with the slide of his tongue over Jesse’s, tasting his teeth, sensuously tickling the roof of his mouth. The moist hot dance of their tongues urged Jesse to pull Chris closer, to slide his palms around Chris’s head, the shorn hair silky against his palms.

  Fuck. Chris tasted so incredible, his scent and flavor filling Jesse completely. One hand slipped down the back of Chris’s head to the strong column of his neck, the tiny muscles shifting and flexing as they kissed.

  Jesse’s erection pushed to full hardness, straining against the jeans Chris had given him to wear. His hands slipped down to Chris’s shirt, working the buttons open with frantic fingers. He didn’t stop until he could slide his palms against that broad chest, the muscles warm and hard against his skin, the dusky nipples smooth and flat, tightening when he brushed them with his fingertips.

  Jesse cupped both hillocks of muscles, squeezing them, delighting in the light rasp of hair, the quivering of the hard strength. He paused. Something was pulsing under his hand, deep inside Chris’s chest. Was that ...? Could it be?