All About Levet

by Alexandra Ivy

  “It is your magic that has been jerking me from the past to the future,” he accused in a harsh voice.

  She gave a lift of her hands, her pretty face devoid of any hint of apology. “It was important for you to see the danger,” she informed him, as if he hadn’t just realized he was the doom of his people. “And what you were sacrificing.”

  He flinched, his gaze briefly moving to the female Were who kneeled beside him.

  He didn’t need any reminders of all that he’d lost.

  “Oh, I see.” He turned back to glare at the angel. “But only after it’s too late.”

  The jade-green eyes widened as if Sera was astonished by the savage pain in Damon’s words.

  “But the clock has not yet struck midnight.”

  Damon blinked, trying to figure out what the hell she was talking about as he aimlessly noticed that the snow had begun to fall again. Odd. Hadn’t they been bathed in silvery moonlight only seconds before?

  He gave a shake of his head. Obviously the ruthless pain was clouding his mind.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he ground out, the smell of his burning flesh beginning to fill the air as he felt the flames ignite just beneath his skin.

  Gia cried out, but as he bent forward, it was another hand that softly touched his shoulder.

  “Damon, there is time to change the future,” Sera whispered into his ear. “Give me the medallion.”

  Damon managed to lift his head, meeting the angel’s steady gaze. “You can destroy it?”

  She gave a nod. “I can.”

  He hesitated. Not that he wanted to keep the medallion. Hell no. The evil chunk of metal had caused untold misery for his family.

  But, the night had been one long nightmare, and he couldn’t be certain that this wasn’t a trap.

  He didn’t believe in Christmas angels. And he didn’t trust magic.

  This could all be one elaborate scheme to . . .

  To what?

  His fuzzy brain tried to imagine what Sera and Levet could have hoped to gain by the elaborate charade.

  At last he heaved a sigh of resignation.

  If someone wanted to take the medallion from him, there were a thousand easier ways. Right now he had little choice but to trust the strange demon.

  With an effort, he held out his hand, loosening his fingers to reveal the medallion that glowed with an evil light in the darkness.

  “Here.”

  Sera held his gaze, a hint of sympathy on her face, as if she could sense the agony that continued to sear through his body.

  “You give it freely?”

  Damon scowled. Why didn’t she just take the damned thing?

  Then he abruptly realized that it had been bound to him by his blood. He had to consciously offer her the artifact for the bond to be broken.

  “Sì.”

  The word had barely left his lips when the angel snatched the medallion from his hand. She flinched, but Damon suspected that it wasn’t the heat that bothered her. The vile magic that clung to the medallion pulsed in the air, making all of them shudder in horror.

  With a low, musical chant, the angel bent down to place the medallion on the ground. Instantly snow began to coat the golden surface, hissing as it hit the hot metal. Damon watched in fascination as the snow began to swirl faster and faster, dimming the sickly glow that had surrounded the medallion until the filthy thing was completely coated in white.

  There was a long, breathless moment, almost as if the world were standing still, before there was a strange pop and abruptly the snow stopped falling and the moonlight returned.

  Damon had no idea if the medallion was buried beneath the ice or if the magical snow had destroyed it, but there was no mistaking the sudden sense of relief that managed to override the flames still blazing through his body.

  God almighty, he’d had no idea just how heavy a burden the medallion had become. Or the stain of darkness it had etched onto his soul.

  Not until it was gone.

  Now he sucked in a shuddering breath, deeply thankful that the taint had been removed, even if it was seconds before his death.

  Lost in his pious sense of sacrifice, Damon was unprepared for the feel of a tiny hand slapping the back of his head.

  “Really, Damon, what are you doing?” Sera demanded. “If you don’t stop you’ll hurt yourself.”

  Damon blinked in confusion, belatedly realizing that there was no longer a need for his destruction.

  The inner flames began to recede as he met Sera’s chiding gaze. “It’s over?”

  She offered a sweet smile. “Unless you’re devoted to the thought of martyrdom.”

  He gave a slow shake of his head, turning his gaze toward Gia who remained kneeling beside him.

  “There’s only one thing I want,” he breathed. “My mate.”

  Gia wiped away the tears that streamed down her pale face. “Damon.”

  “Gia.” Releasing the last of the lethal heat, Damon weakly reached to wrap his arms around the female he’d loved for as long as he could remember. “My beautiful Gia.”

  She threw her arms around his neck, burying her face against his shoulder. “Come home with me.”

  “Home,” he breathed, for the first time in years able to think of a future filled with happiness. “Sì. Our home . . . together.”

  Levet covertly dabbed his eyes as he watched the two Weres embrace, their love for one another blatantly obvious.

  Ah. L’amour.

  “Perhaps we should give these two some privacy,” Sera murmured at his side.

  Levet parted his lips to protest, his gaze focused on Damon as the male Were efficiently began to strip away Gia’s thick layer of clothes. It was just getting interesting.

  But before he could say a word, Sera reached to grasp his hand, and he found himself being magically whisked from the snowy field to a small, cozy cabin.

  Giving a sharp snap of his wings, Levet struggled to maintain his balance at the abrupt teleportation.

  Sacrebleu.

  What was it with females and the need to jerk him from one place to another?

  It was just rude.

  With a sniff, Levet glanced around the cabin, discovering a portion of his annoyance fading as he took in the festive beauty.

  The room was rustic with wooden floors and paneled walls. Along one side of the room was a vast stone fireplace that burned brightly to dispel the chill in the air. There was a long mantel above it that was decorated with several red stockings and strands of evergreen and holly draped along the top.

  In one corner a huge Christmas tree was decorated with big red bows and silver bell-shaped ornaments. And in the center of the floor was a round table with a large crystal bowl filled with eggnog.

  It was . . . magical.

  “Where are we?” he breathed.

  Sera moved to stand directly in front of him, her beauty shown to advantage in the firelight.

  “My private lair.”

  Levet abruptly cleared his throat, aware of the angel in a way that had nothing to do with her good deeds.

  “What about the medallion?” he forced himself to ask.

  “I had it properly disposed of,” she assured him, stepping closer to wrap him in the scent of freshly baked bread.

  Levet’s mouth watered. And not with hunger.

  “Wait.” He glanced around the room that looked as if it’d been painted by Norman Rockwell. Was there not some human saying about “if it seems too good to be true . . .”

  “Was any of this real?”

  A shadow briefly darkened Sera’s eyes. “All too real.”

  “Damon truly would have released the power of a demon lord?”

  She nodded, her wings looking like silver lace in the glow from the fire. “Yes.”

  A belated fear inched down Levet’s spine. He didn’t truly want to consider how close they’d come to utter disaster.

  Instead, he concentrated on the question that had been nagg
ing at him since he’d first stumbled across this mysterious female.

  “And me?”

  She stepped so close he could feel the heat of her slender body, her hands reaching up to lightly stroke his horns.

  “What about you?”

  Oh. Levet trembled beneath the light caress of her fingers.

  That was . . . lovely.

  He struggled to think past the sensual haze filling his mind. “It was no accident that I was the one you asked to play the role of Christmas angel, was it?”

  A secretive smile touched her lips. “Perhaps not.”

  “Why?”

  She hesitated before at last revealing the truth of why he’d been chosen.

  “Because the Were was not the only one who needed a kick in the ass,” she admitted softly.

  “Hey.” Levet gave a sniff, trying to conjure the proper outrage despite the fact that he was melting beneath her skilled hands. “My derriere has no need of kicking. It is exquisite.” He gave a twist of his waist so she could see the well-toned backside. “Voilà. Buns of steel.”

  Her smile widened. “True, but you doubted your self-worth,” she pointed out. “I merely offered you the opportunity to prove that you are indeed a hero.”

  Levet blinked in confusion. “How did you know?”

  Another stroke of his horns. “I have my ways.”

  “Can you read my mind?”

  She gave a small pout. “Not your mind. It’s more your . . .”

  “Oui?”

  “Your heart.”

  Levet considered her words. It was true that he’d been questioning his place in the world, and perhaps indulging in a bit of self-pity.

  But still . . .

  Being turned into a Christmas angel seemed rather extreme.

  “Am I supposed to thank you?” he muttered.

  Her clever, clever fingers drifted down the back of his head, lingering a moment on his shoulders before finding the acutely sensitive arch of his wings.

  “You are still suffering from the wounds of your childhood,” she murmured. “You too easily forget all that you have accomplished.”

  “You could have reminded me with a nice card,” Levet muttered, only partially mollified. “Or baked me a cake.”

  “True, but males tend to need more . . . tangible reminders.” She placed a gentle kiss on his lips. “Besides, I believe you will forgive me once I’ve revealed the second half of your lesson.”

  Levet’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. “Second half?” he croaked.

  “You thought that you were alone and without friends.” She leaned to the side to speak directly into his ear.

  Was it growing hotter in the cabin? Levet shot a quick glance toward the fireplace, making sure that the flames hadn’t spread. Instead he caught sight of the red stocking with white fur at the top that was clearly marked with his name.

  Oh . . .

  His heart melted.

  “I did fear being without my friends on this special night.”

  “You are loved, mighty Levet,” she whispered. “And you have no need to be alone.”

  Mon Dieu. That sounded promising.

  Levet’s tail stiffened.

  “You are going to be my friend?” he asked in husky tones.

  She placed a teasing kiss at the edge of his mouth. “A friend with benefits.”

  “Ooh la la.”

  Chapter 7

  Levet woke at dusk to find himself dusted with snow. The cabin where he’d spent the past delicious hours had disappeared into thin air.

  He wasn’t truly surprised. Sera wasn’t of this world. She was bound to have to return to her own dimension at some point.

  Still, it would have been nice if she’d warned him that she was going to leave.

  Shaking off the snow, Levet glanced around the trees that circled him, wondering what had awakened him.

  Within seconds he realized it was the sound of a male voice calling his name.

  “Levet. I can smell you. Where are you, you stony-ass—”

  Levet stepped from the trees to glare at the King of Weres, who was standing near a black BMW as he impatiently scanned the empty field.

  “Must you screech?” Levet grumbled, grudgingly waddling through the snow to scowl at the unwelcome visitor.

  Salvatore arched a dark brow. “A bit too much Christmas cheer?”

  Levet’s foul mood was instantly lightened as he recalled his very tangible Christmas cheer.

  He would never look at gingerbread the same way again.

  “You could say that,” he murmured, his gaze narrowing as he took in his companion’s tense expression. “What do you want?”

  The king cleared his throat, straightening the cuff of his cashmere coat that he wore over his gray Armani suit before he managed to choke out the words.

  “I have come to take you to the lair.”

  It was not at all what Levet had been expecting. “What lair?”

  Salvatore made a sound of impatience. “My lair, of course.”

  Levet folded his arms over his chest, his expression one of disdain. “Only last night I was told I was not welcome. Do you not remember giving orders to have me sent away?”

  “It was a . . . mistake,” he growled, the muscles of his jaw clenched into tight knots. “Harley wants you there. Will you come?”

  Ah. So Salvatore had been raked over the coals by his lovely mate.

  Levet briefly pondered the pleasure of refusing the less than gracious invitation. Harley would no doubt make life miserable for her mate, at least for a few hours.

  Then the desire to be with his dear friend overcame any childish wish for revenge.

  “I will come,” he conceded, stepping back as Salvatore gave a rap on the window of the car and a tall, bald-headed cur stepped out. Instantly, Levet bristled with remembered irritation. “The cur owes me an apology.”

  The cur’s eyes flashed red. “Why you—”

  “Hess,” Salvatore growled.

  The cur snapped his teeth together, his hands balling into fists at his side. “Sorry,” he muttered, leaning to yank open the back door of the car.

  Levet moved forward with a tilt of his chin. “Not very gracious, but I accept.”

  He climbed into the car, settling on the smooth leather seat. Salvatore was swiftly settled next to him, and Hess drove them along the frozen path at a bone-rattling speed.

  Not sure what to expect, Levet was startled when Salvatore reached between them to fold back a cushion, revealing a secret compartment.

  “Champagne?” he asked, pulling out a bottle and swiftly pouring Levet a glass of the expensive wine.

  Well, well. Salvatore truly was in the doghouse.

  Levet took a sip, shivering with pleasure as the bubbles exploded on his tongue. Still, he wasn’t going to give the arrogant brute the satisfaction of admitting it was one of the finest champagnes Levet had ever tasted.

  “Not bad,” he said with a shrug.

  Anger briefly flared through Salvatore’s dark eyes before he leaned forward to sniff at Levet’s wing.

  “Why do you smell like baked bread?”

  Levet gave a small chuckle. “I had a very . . . interesting evening.”

  “Hmm.”

  Salvatore gave a shake of his head, leaning back in his seat as Hess turned onto the long drive leading to the large house on the hill.

  Levet had barely managed to finish his drink when the car was pulled to a halt and Salvatore was shoving open the door.

  “She’s waiting for you,” he said, nodding toward the front door where Harley was standing.

  With a burst of eagerness, Levet hopped out of the car and hurried up the sidewalk and straight into Harley’s arms as she crouched down to greet him.

  “Levet.” She gave him a warm hug before she stood upright and stepped back. “Come in.”

  Together they moved from the foyer, directly to the large living room that had been cleared of guests. In their place were five
tiny bassinettes that were lined up next to the window.

  “Ma belle. You look radiant,” Levet said, running an appreciative glance over the delicate female with golden blond hair and large hazel eyes that were thickly lashed. “How do you feel?”

  With a smile that spoke of a maternal love mere males would never comprehend, Harley reached into the nearest bassinette to pull out a tiny creature tightly wrapped in pink blankets.

  “Complete,” she answered with a radiant smile. “Would you like to hold Holly?”

  “Moi?” Levet’s eyes widened in shock. No one ever trusted him with anything important. “Are you certain?”

  “Of course I’m certain.” Bending down, Harley gently placed the tiny bundle in Levet’s arms, planting a kiss between his horns. “You’re family.”

  “Family.” A glorious surge of happiness filled Levet’s heart as he glanced down at the miniature face that was an exact replica of Harley’s. “Oui.”

  “Merry Christmas, Levet,” Harley murmured softly.

  Levet’s wings fluttered with joy. “Merry Christmas . . . everyone.”

  Please turn the page for an exciting sneak peek of

  BLOOD ASSASSIN,

  the next exciting installment

  in Alexandra Ivy’s new series

  The Sentinels,

  Available Now!

  Sentinels

  The history of the Sentinels was mysterious even among the high-bloods.

  Most people knew that there were two sects of the dangerous warriors. The guardian Sentinels who possessed innate magic and were trained by the monks. They were heavily tattooed to withstand magical attacks, as well as any mind-control, and were used to protect those high-bloods who were vulnerable when they were forced to travel away from the protection of Valhalla.

  And then there were the hunter Sentinels. They had no magic, but they were equally lethal. Hunters were used to enforce the laws of Valhalla, and since they were able to “pass” as human and capable of moving through the world undetected, they were used to track down high-bloods who might be a danger to themselves or others.

  It was also well known that both sects of Sentinels were stronger and faster than humans, with an endurance that was off the charts. And both were trained to kill with their hands as well as most known weapons.