by Nina Croft
“Don’t do that,” he snarled.
“Jeez, you’re jumpy,” she muttered. “Do you have any money?”
“Money?”
“You know that paper stuff you buy things with.”
He frowned then reached into his jeans pocket, pulled out a wallet, and handed it to her. She plucked out a handful of notes and returned it, then ran back to the man with the bucket and tossed two notes onto the pile of coins. “Happy Christmas.”
Ryan was still waiting where she had left him. “They were fifty-pound notes,” he said.
“Is that good or bad?”
He ran a hand through his messy hair. “Are you for real?”
“Define real.”
He shook his head. “This isn’t working. I can’t relax with you stalking me the way you’re doing. It makes me twitchy.”
She shrugged. “Sorry. Can’t leave you. Orders.”
“Then walk with me, where I can keep an eye on you.”
“Okay. But don’t feel you have to talk to me.”
“I won’t.”
They walked in silence for five minutes. She cast him a sideways glance and found him staring straight ahead. “Where are we going?” she asked.
“Nowhere.”
“Where’s that?”
He stopped, turned to her, and stared down. “I just like to walk.”
“Aw, you have nowhere to go. That’s sort of sad.”
“No, it’s not.”
“You really should think about visiting your nephew.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
Oh, yes, it was. She just hadn’t worked out how to make it happen yet. But she had to come up with a plan soon. They didn’t have that much time. It was clear that Ryan truly believed his nephew was better off without him. She had to find some way past that. It would come to her. But likely not tonight.
“Don’t you have any friends we could go see?”
“No.”
“Maybe we could, uh, sort of pretend we were friends and…you know…do something… friendly.”
He snorted. “Like what?”
Hmm. She wasn’t used to this. “You could buy me a drink.”
“Can you drink?”
“Why shouldn’t I be able to?”
“Some people can’t. Or shouldn’t, at least.”
“You mean demons. How many times do I have to say it? I. Am. Not. A. Demon. Not even a little bit.”
“Okay, a drink then.” After a quick glance around, he headed off at a fast pace, Winter trotting along beside him. He paused beside a bar then moved on. Then another. Gosh, he was fussy. Finally, he stopped at the Drunken Pony. “This should do,” he muttered.
“What was wrong with the others?”
“I used to work around here. They’re cop bars. I didn’t want to risk running into anyone I know.”
“Are you ashamed of me?”
“Yeah.”
He pushed open the door and she followed him inside. The hum of conversation stopped, and all attention focused on them. Ryan seemed unaware of the atmosphere, but Winter’s skin tingled.
The room was dark and crowded and smelled of too many people, too close together. And other things.
“Why this one?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. It seemed…” A frown tugged his brows together. “Welcoming.”
She guessed there was some sort of spell on the place. A sort of welcome-all-supernaturals spell. The clientele had gone back to their drinks and conversation. She relaxed once she saw that they were no longer the center of attention.
“What do you want to drink?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Pick something.”
She stuck close to Ryan as they made their way to the bar, but despite spotting a couple of werewolves, a lone fae, and a group of lesser demons, she felt no sense of a threat.
After taking the glass of red wine Ryan handed her, she followed him to a small booth a couple of witches had just vacated, and slid in opposite him.
He was still frowning. It had taken him a while, but he was at last sensing the presence of others. Rolling his shoulders, he sniffed the air. “There’s something not right about this place.”
“You’ve never been in here before?”
“No. Hey, Piers has been sticking to me like glue for the last year, and he wouldn’t be seen dead in a dive like this.”
She grinned. “No, probably not.”
He was staring across the room at the two werewolves. “Are they…?”
“Yes. Don’t stare.”
“What the hell?”
“It’s a supes’ bar. There’s a spell. You recognized it, even though you didn’t know what it was.”
“Are we safe here? Maybe I should get you out.”
Aw, that was sweet. He was worried about her. “Actually, we’re probably safer here than anywhere else. Supes’ bars tend to be neutral zones. So relax.”
He blew out his breath and sat back, forcibly relaxed his shoulders, and took a sip of his drink. A pint of beer. “What else is here? Can you tell?”
She pointed out the witches and the demons.
“How come you know all this? What are you, Winter?”
She was saved from answering when a man stopped by the booth. Tall and skinny and slightly stooped. He appeared old, in his seventies. But Winter was pretty sure it was a glamor.
“Welcome. I am the owner of this establishment.” He studied Ryan for a moment, then shook his head and muttered something under his breath. It might have been along the lines of “abomination,” but she was sure he didn’t mean it as an insult. She thrust out her hand and he took it a little warily. “Hi, I’m Winter. Lovely place you have here.”
“Thank you. You’re new in town?”
“Sort of. We’re working at the Order.”
He went still. “I will see you are not bothered.” He made to walk away and then turned back. “And of course, the drinks are on the house.”
“Are you sure it’s safe?” Ryan asked, once they were alone.
“Don’t worry. Your fearless bodyguard is here to protect you.”
He smiled at her then. He had a nice smile. Slightly crooked, it made him seem more real. And her icy-cold heart melted just a little inside her.
And in that moment, she decided: she definitely wanted him. He didn’t stand a chance.
Chapter Six
Two days to Christmas
He came awake, or alive, or whatever it was called, in the darkness of his room, and lay with his eyes closed, thinking about the last few days.
And Winter.
He liked her.
She was cute and fun. That first night in the bar, she’d entertained him with descriptions of who and what the other clientele were. She knew everything and could chatter nonstop. All he had to do was set her off on a subject, and she kept going. He’d learned more about the supernatural world in three nights with her than he had in the year since he’d been attacked and changed.
With Piers and the others, he hadn’t liked to ask too many questions, and he’d sort of closed himself off. It wasn’t that he was angry at them for turning him or anything like that. After all, he hadn’t wanted to die, and they had done the only thing possible at the time. Still, it took a hell of a lot of getting used to.
But he was enjoying spending time with Winter, was beginning to hope she’d stick around after the holidays.
And he was keeping his hands to himself, as Piers had instructed. Though he had to admit, it was harder than he’d anticipated. And getting harder.
As was his dick. At regular intervals, whenever it was in the presence of Winter. But then she did have the most amazing breasts and the sweetest lips, which he’d been thinking about way too much.
He’d previously thought that maybe his libido had died along with his human life. Piers had told him that was crap, but Piers didn’t know everything. And Ryan had been worried it was some sort of result of the weird vampire-
werewolf cross. But this morning, when they’d gotten home just before dawn, after she’d kissed him sweetly and chastely on the cheek while pressing her full, firm breasts not so chastely against his chest—in what he was sure was a deliberate provocation—and left him at his door, he’d actually jerked off in the shower. Imagining her small hands wrapped around his cock, her lips…he’d all but exploded.
And now, if he wasn’t mistaken, he was lying with a truly impressive boner. Maybe he’d jerk off in the shower again, before Winter turned up. A bottle of blood and a wank in the shower.
Life is good.
Someone, somewhere in the vicinity of the bottom of his bed, cleared their throat.
What the fuck?
She hadn’t broken into his room since that first morning. And now was so not a good time for her to have done it again.
He opened his eyes and peered down to the end of the bed. Her silver eyes were wide and focused, if he wasn’t mistaken, on the tent in the sheet caused by his erection.
“Is that normal?” she asked.
What the hell did she mean by that? He was tempted to peek under the sheet, himself, just in case something weird was happening. Instead, he kept his gaze fixed on Winter. The scent of her filled his nostrils. She smelled so sweet and another hunger arose, mingling with the first.
She licked her lips and the tent twitched. “Oh.”
He willed it to subside, but nope. Nothing was shifting that fucker. Well something might…
He tried to imagine Piers standing over them, saying do not touch. But somehow, he couldn’t conjure up the vampire’s image. And his dick just got harder. It was almost painful now, and his balls ached. He searched for a way out of this that didn’t involve grabbing Winter, dragging her beneath him, sinking his cock into her, and his fangs into the soft flesh of her throat and…
He came out of his daydream to find Winter had inched closer. She was touching his leg now, beneath the sheet, and her touch sent tremors along his skin, feeding his hungers.
He shoved himself up the bed and away from her, wincing as the sheet dragged across his sensitive cock. Closing his eyes, he pressed a finger to the spot between his brows, then ran his tongue over his fangs. He needed a plan.
Should he make a run for it? Lock himself in the bathroom? That wouldn’t work—she could pick locks. Maybe dive for the kitchen? Feed one hunger at least.
“Are you scared of me, Ryan?”
He opened his eyes. She looked so…earnest. And hot. How had he not seen it from the start? “Yeah. Terrified.”
Her lips twitched. “I’m not scary, honest.”
“What do you want, Winter?”
“You.”
Shock hit him in the gut. She was so direct. Why would she want him? Maybe he’d misunderstood her. Maybe she wanted him for something else, something that wasn’t sex.
“Me? For what?”
She pressed her lips together. He had an idea she was finding him amusing.
“You don’t have to worry,” she said. “I’m not looking for commitment or anything—I know you don’t do relationships. And I’m half pixie—”
“Half what?”
She frowned. “Pixie. We’re known for out fickle ways. We don’t do relationships either. But the two of us are here, spending time together. I like you. And clearly you like me.” She waved her hand at his dick. Why the hell wouldn’t it go down?
He shrugged. “That? Happens every evening. It’s a vampire thing.”
She wrinkled her nose and her lips twitched some more. “Go on, admit it, Ryan. You like me.”
What was he supposed to say: No, I don’t? That would hardly be polite. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings. He did like her. And his dick really liked her. But that didn’t mean anything was going to happen.
Her cool little hand was edging up his leg now, sending his brain into chaos. He tried to remember why this was a bad idea. There was a reason somewhere.
Ah, that was it. “I promised Piers.”
“He’s just being protective.”
Yeah, but of who? Ryan couldn’t quite shake the idea that if anyone was in danger of being hurt here, it was him. He tried again. “I might lose control.”
She was crawling up the bed now, and he couldn’t back away any farther. She smelled so good. And he could see the pulse beating at her throat.
“Okay, I get it,” she murmured. “I’ll back off, because clearly, you’re scared of losing control and doing something you might regret.” But she wasn’t backing off. She was still coming. “Though I have to say, I think you’re making a mistake.”
He shook his head, trying to get his brain functioning. “I am?”
“I think you need to lose control. Let your wolf have a little freedom. He’s getting all grouchy in there.”
“I don’t know how.” And he didn’t want to, anyway. He’d adjusted to being a vampire. He didn’t want to be a goddamn werewolf. They were assholes.
“You just need to relax.”
How was he supposed to relax with her so close he could see the blood in her veins? See her hard little nipples through the thin material of her T-shirt? She was kneeling at his side now. Then, before he had a chance to realize what she was doing, she’d hiked up her skirt and flung her leg over him, straddling his hips…pressing down against his cock. She felt so good, so right.
It had been a long time. That was all. But why did she have to be the one to wake his dormant libido? She was off limits.
He cleared his throat. “I thought you were backing off?”
“I am,” she said. “I just want a kiss first. Just one kiss.”
He should get out of this situation right now. His dick was so hard that if she moved against him, he might explode. As if sensing his desperation, she wriggled a little.
Maybe he could reason with her. “You know you’re taking advantage of me?”
Her eyes widened, and she blinked ingenuously. “Little old me? Taking advantage of the big, bad vampire?”
She lifted her head as though to tempt him with the white skin of her throat, her pulse, and his hunger roared to life. He could feel the ties on his control loosening.
As she leaned closer, he balled his fists at his side, because otherwise he would have grabbed her and dragged her to him, losing himself in her.
It became a matter of pride that he wouldn’t give in.
I’m better than this.
He could control his hungers. He would control them. But she filled his senses, saturated him in a need the like of which he could never remember.
Had he ever wanted anything this much? Needed anything?
She was staring at him with those amazing silver eyes. Coming closer, her lips slightly parted—
Something rang in his ears, breaking the spell, and he shook his head.
Winter sighed and sat back on her heels. “Saved by the bell,” she muttered.
He glanced at the phone on the table beside the bed. Only a few people had his number. The committee. And Steve, the man he paid to look after his nephew, because he couldn’t or wouldn’t or…
Winter sighed again, as though realizing she’d lost his attention. “You’d better get that. It might be important.”
Pushing herself up and off him, she gave his dick a last look and headed out of the room. “I’ll go find you something to eat and then we can go walk the streets. Again.”
The phone was still ringing. He picked it up and looked at the number, but didn’t recognize it.
He pressed the button.
A low growl sounded down the phone and his hackles rose. “Who is it? What do you want?”
“Payback time, asshole. We have your nephew.”
For a moment, the words made no sense. He hadn’t heard anything from the wolves since the attack, though at the time, Marissa had sworn revenge. Was this it? “I don’t believe you.”
“He’s in Kendal. Come and get him by tomorrow night or he dies. Come alone. Tell anyone about this
, and he dies. Happy Christmas.”
The call ended before he could say another word and he sat staring at the phone, trying to make sense of what had been said. It had to be the werewolves. Marissa had Liam. A roar of rage filled his head and he forced it down.
Kendal was his old hometown, where Liam still lived. His fingers fumbled as he pressed the number on the phone. “Steve. It’s Ryan. Is Liam there?”
“Happy Christmas to you, too, mate.”
“Sorry.”
“Say that to Liam. Where the hell have you been for the last six months? That boy lost his mother. You can’t spare him a few minutes of your precious time?”
“Look, just…” He took a deep breath. “Where is he?”
“Out.”
A growl formed in the back of his throat. He swallowed it down. Did he tell Steve about the call? But they’d said they would kill Liam if he told anyone. He could feel the panic rising inside him. Claws raked down his insides, and the growl rose again in his throat. “Look, when he gets back”—if he got back, but Ryan wouldn’t even think that—“keep him there. I’m on my way.”
He ended the call and stared at the phone. In the kitchen, he could hear Winter humming “Jingle Bells.” Nothing seemed real. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He’d been keeping away from Liam so this very thing would not happen.
Heat washed over him, followed by an icy rage that concentrated his thoughts.
If they hurt him in any way, they would die.
He didn’t know how, but somehow, somewhere…
He got out of bed and pulled on the clothes he’d been wearing yesterday, then sat down to tug on his boots, his brain racing ahead. What choice did he have? He had to go. He was probably walking into a trap, but what the hell else was he supposed to do?
But that meant he’d have to lose Winter. Because he had to go alone. And besides, he wouldn’t take her into danger.
As he entered the kitchen, she beamed at him and handed him a glass of blood. “Was it something important?” she asked. She was studying him closely, as though she could see into his head. How was he to get away?
“No. Nothing important.”
She smiled. “I’ve got to go talk to Graham about something. Why don’t you finish your blood and meet me in reception in ten minutes?”
