Christmas After Dark: A Holiday Paranormal Romance Anthology

by Abigail Owen

Livvy had a darker edge and connected to Violet’s black soul better than the rest of us. If anyone could figure out what would make her witchy self smile, it was Livvy.

  Since Isadora and Livvy had returned from visiting our parents in Switzerland visiting a week ago, they’d taken over all family business. On top of Isadora triple-checking the inventory at our metaphysical shop, Mystic Maybelle’s, and Livvy interrogating Jules’s new sous chef at the Cauldron, they’d dived into the party-planning for the twins—Clara and Violet.

  Since the four of us had been holding down the fort while they were gone, and because I would rather be spending every second of free time with Mateo, I didn’t mind at all.

  Peeking in Isadora’s box of small color cover print-outs, tape, scissors, and so on, I replied, “I’ve got to go break a hex first, but then I’m all yours.”

  “Sweet! I knew I could count on you.” She pecked a kiss on my cheek and swirled to leave again.

  “What about me?” asked Mateo, taking hold of my hand with a squeeze, his brow raised in question.

  I’d promised that tonight I’d finally stay at his place. Since my sisters had gotten back home, we’d had hardly any real time alone together. Except for one quickie, which was fantastic but, well, too quick. I sighed, ready to apologize.

  “So sorry,” said Isadora, winding back to us. “Here you go, pumpkin.” She moved her box to a hip and pulled him down for a peck on the cheek. “Love having a hot, future brother-in-law.”

  “Hey!” I whined.

  Isadora backed away and shrugged her shoulders with a cheeky grin. “Couldn’t resist.” With a wink, she spun and walked toward the back entrance, throwing over her shoulder, “That’s the most action I’ve had in ages.”

  I shook my head at her. That’s Isadora. Always finding ways to shock the shit out of people. Damn, I’d missed her.

  Tugging Mateo toward the door, I sighed. “Come on. I’ve gotta go see that angry Italian and break his hex.”

  2

  ~MATEO~

  We stood outside the black wrought iron gate surrounding the attractive duplex near Audubon Park. The fresh white paint with black trim and identical, glossy red-painted doors with gold knockers set this house off as one of the many renovated projects on this fashionable end of Magazine Street.

  I opened the gate and pressed a hand to Evie’s back, needing touch more than she needed me guiding her through.

  “Which one?” I asked.

  She glanced down at the business card in her hand with Marcus Romano’s handwritten address. A throaty growl rumbled in the back of my throat.

  I don’t like this asshole giving Evie his home address.

  She asked for it, so settle down.

  If he touches her, I’m breaking his fingers.

  She has to touch him to break the hex. Chill out.

  “That one.” She pointed to the brick-paved walkway leading to the right.

  Multicolored Christmas lights trimmed the other door on the left as well as the garland wreath. A family of three golden deer stood near the door on a small patch of lawn, their mechanical heads bobbing slowly as if to eat the grass. The baby fawn wore a red ribbon around its neck. There was a second scene on the lawn, two Christmas elves stacking presents, lit up in white lights. From the duplex on that side, Frank Sinatra’s “Let It Snow” boomed from within. Though my werewolf hearing was more sensitive, it must’ve been easily heard by humans passing by on the sidewalk as well. The door and lawn on the right was bare, not one sign of holiday decorations.

  Evie took in the Christmas decor on the opposite side as we walked up the short stoop. “I think I know why Mr. Romano had a hex put on him.”

  Before I could respond, the door swung open. On instinct, I stepped in front of Evie and pushed her behind me. A rumbling growl vibrated in my chest.

  Marcus Romano’s deep frown morphed into surprise, most likely zeroing in on my eyes glowing gold. I knew when Alpha was exerting his presence now.

  That’s right, dickwad. Alpha is here. Better back the fuck up off my girl.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” said Evie, scrambling back around me. “Mr. Romano, this is my boyfriend, Mateo.”

  With one proprietary hand on her hip, I reached the other around her, offering to shake his hand.

  Break his big, stupid nose.

  Calm your ass down. We’re here to support Evie.

  The guy looked like he’d been through hell. His tie hung loosely from his collar, the top two buttons of his starched, white shirt undone. He held a tumbler of liquor in his right hand, and his nose was so swollen and red, he looked like he’d been stung by an entire hornet’s nest.

  “Sorry.” He blinked and shook his head, shifting his drink into his left hand then shook mine. His rough palm was cold from holding the drink. “I was about to head next door.”

  “Why?” asked Evie.

  His scowl returned. “Don’t you hear that shit?”

  “Frank Sinatra’s Christmas album?”

  “Yeah. That damn music!” He combed a hand to the back of his skull and turned, leaving the door open.

  We followed inside, finding an immaculate living space. Stark with minimalist decor and paintings, sleek furniture in modernist style. Nothing out of place.

  He knocked back what was in his glass. “Anyone want a drink?”

  I shook my head at Evie, wanting to get out of here as soon as possible.

  Evie surveyed the room. “No thanks.”

  Marcus stepped over to the granite island in his open kitchen where a bottle of Bourbon sat. He poured a few fingers, then twisted back to us, exasperation written all over his face.

  “It’s that music.” He took a gulp, then laughed maniacally. “No. It’s everything. That witch is batshit crazy. And she’s making me crazy. I can’t even think straight.” He drained his glass and slammed it down with a clink on the granite.

  “Come take a seat,” said Evie, her voice lilting in that compassionate tone she’d used on me more than once when I’d been tortured by my own curse a few weeks ago.

  He strode through the living room and sat on the sofa, rubbing his palms on his gray slacks. “Let’s get this over with.”

  She walked behind the sofa and put her hands on his shoulders. “Just relax and close your eyes.”

  He exhaled a sigh and did what she said. She closed her eyes, too, and squeezed his shoulder. With an inaudible whisper, she squeezed again. The electric sizzle of magic zapped in the air. Her fingers brightened with a glowing green sheen for two seconds then disappeared. The scent of magic—balmy energy and pungent earth—tingled my nose.

  As for Marcus Romano’s nose, it deflated back to its normal size with no redness or swelling whatsoever. Though it did look larger than it should be, but that seemed to be because it had been broken once or twice and had healed a little askew.

  Evie patted his shoulder and said cheerily, “All done.”

  Marcus snapped his eyes open, catching my gaze first. But his hand immediately went to his nose, then he belted out a bark of laughter.

  Evie had come around the sofa to stand next to me. “Mr. Romano, I need you to introduce me to your neighbor.”

  “Anything.” He rose and turned toward the mantel above his fireplace, staring at his reflection and touching his nose, obviously making sure it was all back to normal. “You gonna give her a witch warning or something? A citation?”

  Evie pressed her lips together before replying, “Not exactly. I’d like to resolve this conflict between you two.”

  He spun around, a pinch reappearing in the middle of his forehead. He scoffed. “I will never be friends with that witch.”

  “I don’t need you to be friends. But if whatever problem is between you two isn’t resolved, she can just put the hex back on you.”

  His full-on scowl returned. “Fuck that shit.” He cut across toward the door. “Let’s go.”

  We followed, walking down his stoop and around the walkway toward her holiday
-decorated side. The Christmas music shut off before we stepped up to the small porch. Marcus clanked the knocker three times a bit too hard. Within seconds, the door swung open, revealing a pretty black woman, her curly hair bouncing on her shoulder, held back with a red bandana as a headband. She wore no makeup but lip-gloss. With naturally thick, black lashes that curled around hazel-green eyes she didn’t need it. She was stunning. As she swung the door wider, a wave of apple and spice wafted out the door.

  Her gaze narrowed on Marcus first, her hand propping on her hip where a sliver of tawny skin was exposed between her jeans and short-cropped red sweater with sparkly silver snowflakes.

  “Tia?” Evie’s surprised tone drew my attention back to her.

  “Evie! Oh, my God.” The neighbor reached forward and jerked Evie into a tight hug. “It’s so good to see you.”

  Evie huffed out a laugh. “It’s been ages.”

  “Not since Aunt Beryl’s last sage party.”

  Tia was tall and curvy, similar in build to Evie actually. She pulled back and opened the door wider, stepping out of the way. “Come on in.”

  Marcus glanced back at me, dumbfounded. I shrugged. We followed the ladies inside.

  “So I guess you’re responsible for Marcus’s new nose job.” Tia smirked over her shoulder, her gaze flicking over Marcus, a spark of heat and appreciation lighting her face before she looked away.

  She wants him.

  You know what? You might be right.

  I know I’m right. One thing I know is when a woman wants a man. I’m an expert.

  “Guilty,” said Evie.

  Marcus crossed his arms, staring around the place and grimacing like he’d smelled something offensive. The living room was draped in greenery, white lights, snow globes, and a collection of glittery snowman figurines on her mantel. In between a myriad of holiday displays were apple-cinnamon and pine-scented candles.

  “So you’re friends with this witch,” said Marcus, harsh and accusing.

  “I am.” Her gaze moved to mine. “Tia’s aunt is my mother’s best friend. We sort of grew up together.”

  “Sort of?” Tia’s bright smile made Marcus frown even more, if that were possible. “We took weekly spell lessons together from my aunt and her mom for about five years.”

  “But I hired you.” Marcus stood straighter. “If you plan to take her side just because you’re friends—”

  “That’s not how I roll, Mr. Romano, so just calm your britches.”

  Tia’s smile spread wider as she stared at Marcus. “Yeah, Mr. Romano. Calm your britches.”

  “Tia—” he growled, but in a different way than he’d been huffing at us since we’d arrived.

  That’s a have-sex-with-me growl. Know it well.

  Tia was oblivious to his aggressive mannerisms. “I can put another spell on you, you know?”

  “That’s why I’m here,” said Evie, injecting more professionalism in her tone and clearing her throat. “So tell us why you did it in the first place.”

  Marcus uncrossed his arms and took a step toward Tia, jabbing a finger in the air at her. “It’s because I can’t stand your fucking Christmas music, isn’t it?”

  Her brows rose. “Watch your language, Marcus.” A hand went back to her hip, making her sweater rise, exposing more of her belly and a diamond-stud piercing. Marcus zoned in on it.

  Can you blame the guy? I know what would take that frown off his face. And put a bigger smile on hers.

  “Tia.” Evie pleaded softly. “Tell us what this is about. You can’t just hex people because they hate Christmas.”

  “I don’t hate Christmas,” snarled Marcus. “Just all the silly shit that goes with it.”

  Tia rolled her eyes. “I can handle his constant bitching. That doesn’t bother me. But when he killed my snowman, that was it.”

  Marcus huffed like a bull. “I told you. It was an accident.”

  “Ha! You must think me a fool. His head was completely decapitated.”

  “I swear, Tia. I didn’t do it on purpose. If you’d just listen to me—”

  “I did listen to you. And if you think I’m believing that stupid story you tried to tell me, you’re crazy.”

  By this point, they were both in each other’s faces. Marcus looked like his head was about to explode.

  Again. I have an idea what would end this feud. It starts with an “S” and ends with an “X.”

  “Okay, okay!” Evie physically put herself between them and pushed them apart. “Tia, Marcus says it’s an accident, but you don’t believe him. What if he buys you a new one?”

  “I offered to do that already,” growled Marcus.

  “I don’t need your money.” Tia crossed her arms under her breasts. “I want an apology.”

  “I’m fucking sorry! Is that good enough?”

  “Ha! No. It is not.”

  Marcus turned to me and gestured with both hands at Tia. “See! She’s crazy. I can’t reason with this.”

  Tell him my idea.

  Shut it.

  “This is what’s going to happen,” said Evie, turning and facing both of them like a mother to her unruly children.

  In that moment, I could see her facing off our own unruly children, giving them that maternal glare and no-nonsense speech.

  Our unruly children.

  The very idea made me want to snatch her close and haul ass back to my place and start making babies. It also made my heart expand another inch, swelling at the mere idea of a world where little Evies and Mateos ran around raising all kinds of hell in our household. Our household. I wanted that more than anything.

  “Marcus, you’re going to buy her a new snowman for the yard, the exact same kind she had before and set it up for her. Tia, you’re going to accept it with grace and keep your Christmas music to normal decibels. What I heard when I walked up was an obvious attempt to annoy your neighbor. Will that appease both parties?”

  “Fine by me,” grumbled Marcus, his gaze fixed on Tia.

  “I need an act of atonement,” said Tia, her pert nose in the air away from Marcus.

  “Of course you do,” he sneered. “What the hell does that mean anyway?”

  Ignoring him, Tia pointed at Marcus with serious accusation in her voice, “He was so mean to me, Evie. I need atonement.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  Evie swiveled back to me. “It’s common for witches in dispute. The offending member needs to do an action that proves they’re sorry. A verbal apology isn’t quite enough. We follow the whole actions speak louder than words creed.”

  “What the hell do you want?” asked Marcus with a sneer. “I’m not groveling on my knees or anything to her,” he bit out to Evie.

  I bet he would if she asked nicely. While naked.

  Evie clasped her hands together in front of her. “I have the perfect idea.” She glanced between the two, landing back on Marcus. “You’re both coming to a party tomorrow night at our pub, the Cauldron at nine o’clock. It’s a Karaoke party.” She gave her best I-mean-it glare to Marcus. “You’ll sing a Christmas song of my choice without protest. That’s the deal.”

  “Yesssss!” Tia jumped up and down, giddily clapping her hands.

  Evie swung her attention to Tia. “You’re singing it with him.”

  “Me? But he’s the one who—”

  “Nope. Tia, I know you’ve been overtly annoying with the music and who knows what else. This will be an act you’ll do together, and finally put behind you all this animosity toward each other. Let bygones be bygones.”

  Marcus rolled his eyes, which actually made me chuckle. “This some kind of a Christmas party?”

  “My twin sisters’ birthday party actually.”

  Tia beamed another smile, her eyes sparkling. “Clara and Vi’s? Awesome! I can’t wait.”

  “Of course you can’t,” he shook his head pityingly at Tia. “Are we done here?”

  She just bounced past him with a superior tilt of her ch
in and opened the door for us.

  Evie grabbed my hand as she passed, following Marcus.

  “See you tomorrow night,” said Tia excitedly.

  We said our goodbyes and left through the wrought iron gate toward my vintage Chevy truck parked on the street. My hands itched to hold her, to bury my face into her neck, to feel her skin against mine. This craving I had for her was constant, clawing, desperate. I wondered how long it would take for this frenzied need to ease up. Somehow, I knew it never would. At least I could control my urges now. I could keep my hands to myself—mostly. Better than before anyway, when Alpha had me so on edge. When I was under that witch’s spell.

  In public, I could mask my burning need, subdue the beast with a simple look from her, a brief touch. But in private, I took advantage of every single second. Like now. When we walked up to my truck, I dragged her into my arms, pressing her against the passenger door. She gasped. I covered her mouth with mine and breathed her in.

  She was so perfect. Her body. Her mind. Her heart. She turned me on in every possible way, and I couldn’t keep my hands from roaming.

  “Evie,” I growled against her lips. “Sweet Evie.”

  She whimpered and slipped her tongue into my mouth. Gripping her hips, I pressed my pelvis to hers, grinding my hard dick in that perfect hollow between her legs. A shaky moan escaped her mouth as I pulled back and scraped my teeth across her bottom lip. Pressing my forehead to hers, I held her half-lidded gaze.

  “I need you tonight.”

  We need her every night.

  She gave me a little whimpered cry of protest. “But Isadora.”

  “Shit.” I closed my eyes. “I forgot.”

  She threaded her fingers into my hair, ghosting across my neck. “I could stand her up for a little while.”

  That’s right. Fuck them. Our needs are more important.

  She slid her hand below the collar of my hoodie, grazing her nails along my nape. Hard. I groaned, my dick swelling at her touch.

  “No,” I forced myself to sigh. “I don’t want to be the boyfriend who pulls you away from your sisters.”

  “Why are you such a good guy?”

  I am not a good guy, baby.