The Bite Before Christmas

by Jeaniene Frost

  “This game is fun,” Katricia said cheerfully as she finished shuffling. “I can’t believe I’ve never heard of it before.”

  “Neither can I,” Teddy said dryly as he used the poker to shift the logs around to his satisfaction. “You play like a pro.”

  “Beginner’s luck,” she assured him with a grin he didn’t catch. He was setting the poker back.

  “Hmm.” Teddy turned and began to pick up and arrange the cards in his hand.

  “So,” Katricia said as she finished dealing and set down the remaining cards. “What’s this job you mentioned coming up in Port Henry?”

  Teddy glanced at her with surprise. They hadn’t talked about that since he’d mentioned it during their walk that morning, but she had been thinking about it. While she was growing weary of hunting rogues, Katricia thought she might enjoy working on the force in Port Henry, especially if it meant working closely with Teddy. She already knew they worked well together. They had functioned as a team when they’d set out to make lunch and then supper, and then while cleaning up afterward. It had been rather scary in a way, how in sync they’d been, she thought, as if they’d been doing it for centuries.

  “Would you really be interested?” he asked curiously.

  Katricia nodded.

  Teddy hesitated, and then pointed out, “It wouldn’t be nearly as exciting as hunting rogues.”

  Katricia smiled wryly at the words. Rogues were immortals who had broken one of their laws, usually older immortals who hadn’t found a life mate and had grown weary of living. It was her theory that they were mostly looking for a way out. Suicide by enforcer, basically. She understood, in a way, at least the weariness. Katricia had experienced that herself the last century or so . . . until meeting Teddy. What she didn’t understand was the need the rogue seemed to have to hurt others on the way down, usually mortals. They turned them in droves, or tortured them, or did whatever would catch the council’s notice quickly and force them to act. Attacking mortals was most likely to do that. Not because mortals were valued more than immortals, but because harming mortals was more likely to draw the attention of other mortals, and the very worst sin they could commit was to bring their kind to the attention of mortals.

  Her people had spent millennia hiding their existence. The world simply wasn’t ready to learn that, while the fabled cursed and soulless vampire didn’t exist, a more scientific version of the creature did. One pumped full of bioengineered nanos programmed to keep the immortal at their peak condition. It was those very nanos that forced them to seek blood from outside sources. The nanos used blood, not only to propel and clone themselves, but to fight any illnesses that attacked their hosts’ bodies, and to make the repairs caused by injuries or the effects of the sun, or pollution, or the simple passage of time. The hosts’ bodies simply couldn’t supply the amount of blood the nanos used to do all that, so outside sources were necessary, which hadn’t been a problem in their homeland when the nanos were first invented and introduced: blood transfusions had taken care of the problem. But when their home—the legendary Atlantis, an isolated land as technologically advanced as was whispered—fell, their people found themselves forced to flee and join the rest of the world. One where there was no such thing as real science, let alone nanos or blood transfusions.

  Programmed to keep their hosts at their peak condition, the nanos had forced evolutionary changes on their people, bringing on fangs along with added strength, speed, and night vision to make them perfect predators, able to get what they needed to survive. Which had made the rest of the world their prey.

  Much as most immortals didn’t like to admit it, mortals were essentially cattle to Katricia’s kind. Friends, neighbors, and cattle . . . Or at least they had been, for millennia. Blood banks had helped bring an end to that need to feed “off the hoof,” as they had taken to calling it over time.

  “Believe me, hunting rogues isn’t nearly as exciting as it sounds,” Katricia assured him with a wry smile as he picked up a card, situated it among the ones in his hand, and discarded another. “Actually, it’s a lot of long hours of waiting, researching, checking data, and then a quick raid and clean-up. It gets tired pretty quick.”

  “Still, it’s probably more interesting than being a small-town cop,” Teddy assured her wryly as she took her turn. “Most of my job is made up of issuing tickets, picking up shoplifters, and the occasional domestic dispute.” He smiled and then added dryly, “At least, it was. The last couple of years, though, we’ve actually had a couple of murder attempts, assaults, and arsons.”

  Katricia raised her eyebrows as he picked up a card. “And this started just the last couple of years?”

  Teddy nodded and chuckled, his gaze on his cards as he shifted a couple. He discarded before saying, “Yes, since the vamps came to town.”

  Katricia’s eyes widened. “You mean our people have been killing and—?”

  “No,” he assured her quickly. “Much to my dismay, it isn’t the vampires committing the crimes but the mortals, and they’re attacking the immortals,” he admitted with disgust and shook his head before adding, “Mind you, in each one of those cases, those mortals would have claimed that the inoffensive vampire, or immortal, was the monster. It really makes you shake your head in wonder.”

  “Hmm,” Katricia muttered, taking her turn. She didn’t bother asking why the mortals had attacked the immortals. Her guess would be fear. People did the stupidest things out of fear. As she discarded, she asked, “So what is the job coming up?”

  “Chief of police,” he answered, picking up a card.

  Katricia stared at him blankly as he discarded, and then pointed out, “But you’re the police chief of Port Henry.”

  Teddy smiled faintly, and teased, “A top-notch detective, I see.”

  “Ha ha,” Katricia said grimly. “Why would you need a replacement? You obviously love your job. Every time it’s come up in conversation today—” She shrugged helplessly and finished, “I could tell you love it.”

  “I do,” he agreed mildly, and then gestured for her to continue with her turn before pointing out solemnly, “But I’m getting old.”

  “You’re not old,” she said at once. “You’re just a baby. Cripes, I’m ages older than you.”

  “I’m old for a mortal,” Teddy said patiently. “Retirement is coming up. Someone will have to take my place. Someone who can deal with immortals would be good and you could do that. I’ll talk to Lucian and if he thinks you can handle the job, we’ll see what we can—”

  “I don’t want your job, Teddy,” Katricia said quietly, and it was true. She didn’t want it. She also didn’t want him to give it up when he so obviously loved it. And he wouldn’t have to once she turned him, but she couldn’t tell him that. She frowned over that fact with frustration and simply said, “I’d rather work with you than take your place.”

  Teddy was silent for a moment, his eyes locked on her briefly, and then he suddenly set down his cards and stood. “I’m ready for a drink. How about you?”

  Katricia set her cards down and got up as well, voice eager as she asked, “Coffee again?”

  Teddy chuckled, but shook his head as he moved from the coffee table in front of the fireplace to the kitchen. “Are you kidding? You were wired all day from those two cups at breakfast. I give you coffee now you won’t sleep tonight.”

  “Sleep is overrated,” Katricia said with forced good cheer.

  “Not for an old mortal guy like me, it isn’t,” he assured her wryly, retrieving a gift bag from the top of the refrigerator.

  “What’s that?” Katricia asked curiously.

  “Whiskey,” Teddy answered, and proceeded to open the sealed bag. When he caught Katricia’s raised eyebrows, he shrugged and pulled out the bottle inside, explaining, “It’s the same thing every year. Twelve-year-old scotch.”

  Katricia nodded, but leaned ar
ound him to read the gift card as he retrieved two glasses from the cupboard. “Elvi? Uncle Victor’s Elvi?”

  Teddy grunted and poured some whiskey into each glass. “Elvi knows I like this whiskey. She gives it to me for Christmas every year and Mabel makes me cookies, a hat, scarf, and mitts. I drink the whiskey, eat the cookies, and even wear the hat and scarf, but the mitts . . .” He grimaced and shook his head.

  “Mitts not your thing?” Katricia suggested with amusement, but her gaze was on his face as he set down the bottle and touched the tag on the gift bag, turning it so that he could peer at the signature. She couldn’t help noting the soft affection of his expression. She’d also noted the emotion in his voice when he’d said Elvi’s name. It had been different than when he’d said “Mabel,” almost husky and warm and . . . and she didn’t really like it, Katricia thought grimly.

  “No, mitts aren’t quite my thing,” Teddy acknowledged, letting go of the gift tag to smile at her wryly. “Hard to pull the trigger on a gun with mitts on . . . Not that I’ve even had to pull my gun more than a time or two over the years. Still, I should be prepared to if the occasion arises.”

  “I suppose,” Katricia agreed quietly, taking the glass he now held out. The drink wouldn’t affect her. The nanos in her body would prevent any intoxication. For immortals to enjoy that kind of thing even briefly, they had to actually consume the blood of an intoxicated mortal. Not that she wanted to experience intoxication, or thought it might be something enjoyable. Katricia liked to be in control of her faculties. Usually. Although, she thought that just then she might like to experience the effect alcohol had on mortals. She didn’t like the jealousy presently coursing through her. It was an emotion she’d never experienced before . . . and she didn’t feel at all comfortable experiencing it now. So, what did she do about that? Change the subject and try to forget it? Heck no, she downed her whiskey, allowed it a moment to burn its way down her throat and into her stomach, which was already churning with jealousy, and then asked the one thing sure to increase the burning jealousy in her gut. “Tell me about Elvi.”

  Teddy paused, his own glass halfway to his mouth, and simply stared at her blankly, obviously completely stunned by the question. “I— You— Why?”

  “You’ve mentioned her several times today,” Katricia said with a shrug. “Every time Port Henry came up, in fact. As if she’s synonymous with the town.”

  “Well, she’s . . . I suppose she and Mabel are kind of representative of the town to me,” Teddy muttered, looking uncomfortable. “The three of us have been friends since we were kids. I stood up in both their weddings and . . .” He shrugged helplessly. “We’ve been friends a long time.”

  Her eyes narrowed as she noted the way he was avoiding her eyes. “Why did you never marry?”

  “I just never found anyone I loved as mu— Anyone I loved,” he corrected himself with a frown.

  “You never found anyone you loved, or anyone you loved as much as Elvi?” Katricia asked dryly, not having missed the slip.

  Teddy’s mouth tightened. “It’s getting late. Time for bed,” he announced, turning to lift his glass and take a drink. He swallowed heavily and then added, his voice husky from the whiskey, “Grab one of the sleeping bags I brought out earlier. You can have the couch. I’ll take the floor.”

  Katricia stared at him silently for a moment and then simply turned and left the living room to slip into the bathroom. While the fire and several candles had lit up the main room, she hadn’t thought to bring a candle with her, and darkness closed around Katricia as soon as she closed the door. But between her night vision and the small bit of moonlight streaming through the window, she could see fine and peered at herself in the mirror, surprised to find her eyes hadn’t turned green, after all.

  Closing her eyes briefly, she forced herself to take several deep breaths, and reminded herself that Teddy was her life mate. That being the case, whatever he’d felt for Elvi in the past wouldn’t matter. It would be nothing next to what he would experience with and feel for her in the future. The nanos were never wrong, and they had put him with her, not Elvi. Feeling herself relax, Katricia opened her eyes and peered at herself in the mirror. A plan began to form in her mind then, on how to begin to turn his attention from Elvi to her, one that brought a slow smile to her lips.

  Teddy stared at the closed bathroom door and downed the rest of his whiskey. He usually enjoyed Elvi’s gift, but tonight it tasted like ash in his mouth and he hadn’t a clue why. Except that, for some reason, he felt incredibly guilty, as if his feelings for Elvi, feelings he’d had since he was a callow youth, were somehow betraying this new and very tentative friendship with Katricia . . . which was just stupid. He’d only met her today. And aside from her first flirting, there had been nothing untoward since, not even a hint of flirting from her—or him, for that matter. Instead, they’d seemed to bond, friendship growing between them as they’d played, talked, and worked together as a team.

  It was something Teddy had never really experienced before. Oh, he’d had many female friends over the years and had worked toward a common goal with just as many. He’d worked with Mabel to try to find Elvi a mate, had planned and arranged local fairs with Elvi. But he’d never experienced the same level of ease and rightness with either of them as he had with Katricia. They’d seemed to communicate at times without needing to speak, and their working together in the kitchen had been almost like a dance. He felt closer to her after one day than he’d felt with women he’d been lovers with for months. Which was just strange, he decided and shook his head before turning to put the cap back on his whiskey and return it to the gift bag.

  The bathroom door opened and Teddy watched silently as Katricia reappeared and grabbed one of the two sleeping bags he’d set on the chair beside the couch earlier. She then moved to the couch, unrolled and laid out the sleeping bag, unzipped it, and crawled inside. She didn’t bother to zip it back up, he noted as he took the candle that he’d set on the kitchen counter earlier and headed for the bathroom himself.

  The room was damned cold compared to the main room, and Teddy was quick about his ablutions. Within ten minutes he was back, blowing out candles and unrolling his sleeping bag in front of the fireplace. His gaze slid reluctantly to Katricia then, as he wondered if he should have offered her the spot in front of the fire. The couch would be more comfortable, but the floor in front of the fire would be warmer.

  Finding her eyes closed, Teddy decided she would probably be warm enough in the sleeping bag and quickly unzipped his and started to get into it. Then, recalling he still wore his flannels under his clothes, and deciding he’d be more comfortable out of his jeans, he quickly shed them and his sweater, folded them neatly, set them aside, then got into his sleeping bag and quickly zipped it closed again. Within moments, his eyes were drifting shut.

  Teddy wasn’t sure how long he’d been sleeping when a whisper of sound brought his drowsy eyes open again to find Katricia kneeling beside him.

  “What’s wrong?” he murmured sleepily, trying to wake up fully.

  “I’m cold,” Katricia whispered. Before he quite knew what was happening, she’d opened the zipper to his sleeping bag and climbed in to join him, adding, “Share your body heat.”

  “You— I— We— This isn’t—” he stammered, but his protests grew weaker with each attempt as her body slid against his inside the sleeping bag.

  “I’m old enough to do what I wish. You’re an adult, too. We want each other and this definitely is a good idea,” she breathed, her body wrapping around his.

  Teddy just gaped at her for a moment, stunned that she’d responded correctly to each of his aborted protests as if he’d spoken them aloud rather than stammered helplessly like a schoolboy. By the time he regathered his wits, she was wrapped around him like a warm, tight sleeping bag, her body pressing against his in several key places.

  “You read my mind,�
� he muttered, trying by sheer force of will to keep from reacting to her nearness. It seemed his will was weak. He was definitely reacting. Little Teddy had been up and down all day, but was fully up now.

  Much to his surprise, Katricia chuckled at his accusation. He didn’t understand, and it was hard to care much about what had amused her with her hands sliding around his back and her breasts and groin nestling up against him. She smelled so damned good, Teddy thought and then heard her say, “I can’t read you, Teddy.”

  Despite his growing distraction, Teddy frowned. “What was that?”

  “I said I can’t read you,” Katricia murmured, pressing a kiss to the bottom of his chin and then licking his throat before letting her lips drift to his cheek and then his ear.

  “You can’t read me?” Teddy muttered, his brain telling him this was important while the rest of his body was assuring him it really, really wasn’t. Damn, she was squeezing his behind as if checking melons for firmness. Fortunately, he walked a lot on the job, making his rounds of the downtown businesses, and he knew he had a firm behind.

  “No. I can’t,” she murmured, nibbling at his ear.

  Teddy remained still for a minute. His brain was trying to decipher what that meant while the rest of his body was humming and thoroughly distracted with what she was doing. After a minute, he brought an end to her nibbles and squeezes by rolling her on her back inside the bag. He then rose up slightly to peer down at her face in the firelight. “You can’t read me?”

  Katricia blinked up at him in surprise in the firelight, and then realization crossed her face. It was followed by wariness and her mouth snapping closed.

  “Am I your life mate?” he asked grimly.