Curse of Christmas: A Collection of Paranormal Holiday Stories

by Thea Atkinson

  "Scourge," I tried the word out on my tongue. "And what kind of power does a scourge have?" I was already tracing their hands and clothes with my eyes, seeking for pockets, hidden weapons, anything that might mean they were a target for this so-called job.

  "Not a scourge," he said. "Just Scourge. There are only three whips of Scourge in all the worlds."

  He hailed over a server and flicked his hand in the direction of the punch bowl again. I watched her back track and lift one of the goblets from the table.

  I realized he'd done it so she wouldn't hear what he wanted to say.

  "They travel together. They rarely break away from their whip when they're in public. But if you can get one alone and slip through its aura, it's like getting a wish from a genie."

  That was even better than interesting.

  I lifted my gaze to the whip.

  "I'm guessing you want me to wish for something specific?"

  He grinned and tapped his nose.

  "So what does getting one alone have to do with shimmying through tight spaces."

  The server returned with a goblet and passed it to him. She stood there for a long moment, watching him. I noted she had taken to tapping her bare foot. She was quite beautiful with long silver hair that trailed in braids down an elegant neck. Unlike the other servers, she wore a sort of Roman gown in burnished green, and in some places of the skin that showed, I could swear she was tattooed.

  She looked very human, actually, and it made me remember what the vampire had said to me about there being consequences for a human here tonight.

  I thought I should warn her and then the concern just melted away like every other thing that rose and bared teeth at me over the last few weeks.

  Maddox finally took the goblet from her, and after sending an appreciative glance down her bare arms, offered it to me.

  The weedy stink was no better now than before.

  "No thanks," I said and stood up to place it back on her tray.

  Her eye flicked to me for only one second, but something in the depths of her gaze made my neck crawl. She hated me. I could see it in that one second glance.

  So. Not human after all.

  Not that I cared. But I did notice she covered her feelings for me well even if to do so she turned her gaze to Maddox. She drank him in. I watched her watching him in those brief seconds and the tattoos that I suspected seemed to shift on her skin. They untwisted from the knots they were in and reformed into different shapes.

  "Those are terribly filthy thoughts," she said to him.

  He blushed and dropped his gaze to her feet. I followed his gaze, almost interested and almost done already with the night until I noticed they were bare.

  I thought one of the tattoos moved beneath her hem. It caught my attention for all of three seconds, and I even nudged Maddox to see if he saw it too, but he wouldn't look at me.

  Therein ended the interest.

  "I want one of those green drinks," I blurted out because all I could think was that I could be home on my sofa, in my robe, eating a nice chunk of peanut butter from the jar.

  Yes. I definitely needed that drink.

  She didn't look my way, merely waited for Maddox to say something.

  I waved my hand in front of her face.

  "I'd like a drink."

  Her eyes snapped to mine and she pursed her lips.

  "You have a drink."

  "The green stuff, not that licorice grog."

  She sent one last look in Maddox's direction before sighing and threading her way back through the crowds.

  "You shouldn't drink the cactus wine," Maddox said, trailing the woman with his eyes.

  "You shouldn't be undressing that woman with your eyes," I said. "She might decide to make it easier for you."

  His eyebrows squirreled together.

  "You think I--"

  "I do, yes," I said. "I very much do. But you've taken a vow, remember."

  "A man doesn't forget a vow like that," he said.

  His gaze dropped to my mouth and I swiped across it in case I had a grog mustache.

  "So is this shindig dangerous? Someone told me you shouldn't have invited a human," I said to him. "That there would be consequences."

  He gave me his grudging attention.

  "Savages is a Kindred celebration yes, but I've taken the precautions."

  His gaze lighted on my throat. "You're safe with me, Isabella. You should know that."

  I sniffed. "You're talking to a woman who killed her ex-lover. A gal like that doesn't need a knight in shining armor."

  I rubbed my fingernails against my chest, but saying the words made my throat go tight. I felt as though I couldn't breathe.

  "I've seen what that did to you, Kitten," he murmured and the tightness in my throat went to a clump.

  I had to get away. Stat.

  And if I couldn't physically get away, I'd resort to the next best thing.

  "So what do you want me to steal from Scourge?"

  I stepped back enough that I didn't feel so swaddled by him. It was far safer in the press of Kindred milling about me than to stay too close to him in that moment.

  "And what sorts of precautions did you have to take?"

  The ghoul makeup around his eyes crinkled and creased as he smiled. "I invited Scourge."

  "Is this some sort of Christmas puzzle I'm meant to work out? Because it's not a very good one. And I don't have the patience for it."

  "Savages isn't Christmas for Kindred, Kitten. It's the night our basest evils and desires are celebrated. At what you humans call the witching hour, those baser instincts can overtake us."

  I lifted a brow. "Seriously. You asked me here in the middle of a bastion of dangerous creatures--"

  "Kindred. We're Kindred."

  I pinched the bridge of my nose.

  "So what you're saying is it's Christmas Eve and I'm about to be Kindred kibble."

  "I thought you hated Christmas."

  "I don't want to die on Christmas and certainly not at a Christmas party for Pete's sake."

  My voice rose in pitch. Several Kindred cast a look my way.

  "I told you, you're safe with me. Most of the worst offenders will find a way back to their homes to wreak their havoc because that's where their darkest dreams live."

  "Most is not all," I said.

  His bottom lip pooched into is top to indicate he knew it was true.

  He wrapped his arm over my shoulder. The weight was heavy and warm.

  "Besides, it's not always the most frightening things that overtake us. There's a special magic in Savage. It's unpredictable, yes, but it often pulls out only the thing we've been struggling to the most with throughout the year. It gives that desire reign for that one hour so that we might let it go. For a vegan vampire, it might be the desire to eat pizza with garlic. For a tooth fairy it might be to yank a tooth from a sleeping child's mouth."

  I ignored the thought that he believed tearing a living tooth from a child wasn't frightening

  "Vegan vampire?" I snorted.

  He shrugged. "There are a few."

  "So," I said, sighing. In for a penny, I supposed. The quicker I got this done, the quicker I could be in my bathrobe. "You say it will happen at the witching hour?"

  "Yes. The hour after midnight." He checked his watch. "In about ten minutes."

  He turned me to face Scourge and I felt his breath over my hair as he leaned down to whisper from behind me.

  "Scourge has one small space in their collective aura. It's narrow as the whisker on a cat but it's there. Do you see it?"

  His arms crossed over my chest and his palms landed on my shoulder as he pulled me close. My heart wheezed out a lazy skip. I'd forgotten what it felt like to be held. I caught my breath before it could exit in a sob. I did not want him to see me cry. I didn't even want to cry. I wanted to feel that deadness I'd enjoyed these last weeks. It was safer. It sopped up all the emotion like a sea sponge.

  So I peered at the g
roup with slitted eyes, digging deep for some sort of focus. There did seem to be a sliver of light separating each of their auras.

  "I'm small but I can't fit in there."

  "You'd be surprised. When they're together like that, their energies create a portal that doesn't exist when they are alone. It can expand."

  I pulled my shoulders back. I'd been in tight spaces before both metaphorical and physical, but not magical. If this was some sort of portal I wanted nothing to do with it. Besides. It must be special.

  "What's to stop anyone else from doing the same thing as me?"

  "Therein lies the precise reason you're here, Isabella."

  "And that is?"

  "You're human."

  "Yeah. Painfully so in a room that's about to go all ballistic with dark desires."

  I shuddered beneath his embrace but I wasn't entirely sure it was from nerves. It felt like adrenaline. That soaking of possibility and anxiety all at the same time. Something in me perked up its head and peered over the arid landscape I'd hunkered down in.

  "So a human is the only kindred able to do this?" I said.

  I felt him shake his head.

  "There's only one time when that portal is ripe."

  "The witching hour."

  "The witching hour on eve aux savages. Yes." His hand slipped from my shoulder to wander down my arm, brushing it almost absently. I thought I felt his embrace tighten just a bit.

  "Most Kindred won't be in any sort of state to take advantage because they'll be under the spell of savages."

  "But I won't."

  "Exactly."

  "And what is it you want from me once I do this slipping in? What am I looking for?"

  I heard indulgence in his tone. "What do you need?"

  Need? I needed a lot of things. Didn't everyone?

  "If I'm going to be kibble, then I'd say safety," I muttered. "But I'm guessing you had something else in mind since it would be a waste of time to have me use this special loophole just to use it to stay safe from a bunch of Kindred with their knickers in knots."

  He chuckled. "Ever the mercenary mind."

  "And why not? Everyone wants something. Charity is an illusion. Even Christmas is selfish down to its core."

  I caught sight of the server across the room. She had stopped offering drinks and was shaking out her hands. In fact, anyone holding a drink or carrying on conversation had put it down or gone quiet. All over the room, some sort of electric tension began to transform postures from casual and gay to rigid and expectant.

  I swallowed down my own tension.

  "Maddox," I said, testing. "What will happen to you during savages?"

  "Nothing," he said. "Apparently, I'm immune. Not in all my years have I had a savage moment overtake me."

  "Maybe you just haven't wanted something bad enough to suppress it."

  "Maybe. Maybe not." He spun me around and laid his hands on my shoulders. The way he looked at me made my stomach flip over. His expression was filled with what I would have called regret. I felt sorry for him. His face held a look I'd been seeing too often in my mirror.

  "I've lived a long time, Isabella. I've wanted things over the centuries, sure, but by the time I was eighteen, I'd already given reign to the worst there is inside me. There's nothing left that savage could give me or take from me."

  Something caught his eye over my shoulder as he spoke. Confusion stamped wrinkles into his brow for a moment, and then, something like recognition overtook it. If his hands were free, he'd have snapped his fingers.

  "What is it?" I said, meaning who but in this place, I wasn't sure the questions weren't the same anyway.

  He was about to answer, but then a tiny man standing beside me suddenly shot up like a weed to a sizeable height. His sudden transformation meant he tossed me aside abruptly so that I pin wheeled into Maddox's chest. His arms closed around me again, tighter than before. Almost uncomfortably so.

  I planted my palms and pushed as I peered up to see the giant towering above me by several feet. Even Maddox looked small next to him.

  When the giant took a swing at the wooden beams that were no doubt as supporting as they were decorous, I realized that the savages had begun.

  It was time to move.

  Now.

  "It's on, is it?" I said.

  I was addressing Maddox even if I wasn't looking straight at him. I needed more information. Should I run for Scourge? Casually saunter over? Was it too late for any of that and I needed to flatten myself to the floor and scuttle like a bug to a safe space.

  His embrace had grown more desperate. I felt smothered in it. I'd never get the running chance I wanted if he didn't let me go.

  "What the hell, Maddox," I said and looked up into his face. "Tell me what the hell to do. It's started and I--"

  The rest of it died on my lips as I saw his face.

  Bald lust. Barely controlled. I could see it in the twist of his mouth.

  The next instant my mind flooded with moving images that would put an Internet porn site to shame.

  "Sweet Jesus," I blurted out.

  He blinked. Moved a hand over his eyes. From behind his palm I heard his words.

  "Go. Now. They won't stop you."

  And then he pushed me. Hard enough that I lost my balance, and as I sprawled, almost falling over my feet, I realized every Kindred had lost themselves to the savages.

  I could see something from the corner of my eye coming at me. It leapt and I dodged, but it was sidelined by Maddox, and there was a goosh of air as something struck the floor. I presumed it was Maddox getting the wind knocked out of him by some unearthly Kindred.

  Mid turn, I saw that what had flung itself at me, a hairy, snarling wolf, was now scrabbling to its feet after being knocked sideways.

  Maddox held the beast's jaws closed.

  Shrieks lit through the air. I saw the reedy looking vampire from earlier biting down into the throat of what I assumed was a pixie. The Kindred I'd seen exchanging gift boxes beside the tree, pulled out what looked like wigs until I realized the scalps were still intact.

  The room was chaos.

  And I was on my own.

  I was left spinning in place, trying to decide where to run or who to strike out at.

  Then I remembered what I was supposed to do. Scourge. I had to get there.

  The question was, if every Kindred had succumbed to their basest desires, what would those desires be for them? Were they immune? Or did Scourge have a collective, dark desire?

  The answer would have to be moot. I needed to get there if I was to stay safe.

  I ducked out of the way of a flying something or other and scanned the last place I'd seen Scourge. They were still there.

  Strangely, they did not look different. They showed no outward reaction to the savages. The only difference was that the thin stream of light between them looked broader. Brighter.

  And there was no one in the way between me and them.

  I just had to run.

  I was good at running.

  I put my head down. I aimed for that light. And I started to move.

  Then I saw her. The server. She had shed her gown and stood naked in the puddle of light as all around her kindred fell back from her step. Her tattoos ran from one long line of her neck all the way to her toes. They pulsed with light. Her heavy breasts swayed rhythmically with each step. I watched her, mesmerized, realizing she saw nothing and no one.

  Except for Maddox.

  Maddox.

  I flung a look over my shoulder. He no longer battled the dire wolf. It lay on its back, feet in the air, showing its belly. Submitting.

  Maddox stood over him with his chest inflated, his shoulders squared in victory. He looked like an old world Viking. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. He was breathing heavily. I could see his biceps move like puppies beneath his shirt.

  I looked from him to the server. She ran a finger over her chest, trailing the nails along her skin as she adva
nced on him.

  I knew exactly what she had in mind.

  And I knew in his state, Maddox would succumb. Right here. In the middle of the savages, he was about to lose his virginity.

  "Shit," I said. I took one last look at Scourge. He wanted me to take up that gauntlet. It was right there. I could totally do it.

  But Maddox would never forgive himself if he broke his vow. I knew it. I ached for the man he might end up being if he did.

  Besides. If the man was going to break that vow, it wasn't going to be with her. Not if I could help it.

  I did the only thing I could do under the circumstances.

  I charged him. The momentum caught him in the legs and took him down out of sheer surprise. I landed on top of him. Somewhere behind me a crashing sound made the lights flicker.

  His instinct and centuries of training made his reactions immediate. He flipped to his back with surprising fluidity and ease, since I was a dead weight on top of him. I went from sprawled over his mid-section to straddling him for one victorious second, my hands planted on the floor at either side of his head.

  Quick as a synapse firing, his hands flew toward me.

  I thought he might strike me, and braced for impact, cringing in reflex, but his palms met the sides of my face instead. His touch was warm and gentle. Fingers spidered up into my hair.

  One of his contacts had fallen out and what peered back at me were one scalding blue and one unnerving black. But recognition swam across his expression. I let go my relief in a soft exhale.

  "Kitten," he said.

  I started to grin and say something ridiculous like, gotcha, but in the next heartbeat, he pulled me toward him and I was so surprised I didn't have time to react.

  His lips met mine even while my lips were open to speak. It didn't seem to matter. His mouth roamed mine as though they were on a leisurely journey through a European countryside. I tasted something delicious on his breath. Peppermint and something else. Something I'd never tasted before. I didn't have the words or description for it but it was amazing.

  And the kiss was amazing. My throat ached with the pleasure of it, and when it became more commanding and demanding, I returned it with the same fervor. It had been so long since I'd enjoyed a man's touch I didn't think about where we were or what was happening behind me or all around me.