Merry & Bright: A Christmas Anthology (Nocturne Falls Universe)

by Fiona Roarke

  But even if nothing else worked out, the dress and the shoes were fabulous.

  If she just sat around and dwelled until it was time to put the dress and shoes on, she’d make herself crazy, so she decided to do some reading. Her eyes landed on the packet Dima had brought to her.

  She breathed them in. They smelled like chocolate. Chocolate and Dima. Not only were all the pages there, but they had all been dried and cleaned off, which was very sweet. As she flipped through the sheets, however, she was suddenly struck by something new. Little dashes of a different handwriting, written in small caps with purple ink.

  “Props to Heinlein.”

  “Gibson’s Neuromancer, Ch 8, might help clarify the tech.”

  “Like this twist on Stephenson’s Cryptonomicon.”

  She’d only used red ink. These were not her edits.

  The note on the last page read, “When is this coming out? I need to know what happens next!”

  He’d read her book.

  She was trying to wrap her head around the realization that he was the first person who had ever read her work when her phone dinged.

  It was a text from Dima. “Sorry. Work emergency. Can’t make it tonight. Really sorry. Would have loved to see your gown.”

  Oh. No. He. Didn’t.

  He’d thrown her too far off balance to get away with running now.

  Elin shoved her phone down the side of her long-line bra, fastened on the gown like armor, and stomped out of the Santa’s Workshop building like she was leading a crowd of pitchfork-wielding medieval peasants.

  No Russian werewolf was going to get away with reading her work, then standing her up. Not when she looked this amazing.

  It is on, Dima Samarin. You’d better hope you’re armed.

  Chapter Three

  Dima swallowed down the disappointment that lodged in his throat as he wrote the text to Elin.

  She’d never talk to him again, and he couldn’t blame her.

  He tucked the phone into the inside pocket of his tuxedo jacket and turned back to Chet.

  “I called the ambulance. I can’t imagine how we missed him when we closed up last night.”

  The big bear shifter shook his head. “I don’t know, either. He’s lucky to be alive after laying on the bathroom floor all day.”

  Dima leaned down to put the back of his hand against the young fae’s forehead. “I think that may have been what saved him. Keeping him cold while this garbage was trying to burn him up from inside.”

  The boy on the floor was a good looking young man, rather more pretty than handsome, but he’d grow into it. If he lived.

  Chet was going through the kid’s pockets when he paused. “Huh. This can’t be good.”

  A small, clear plastic baggie held three little pills. The fae didn’t get sick, so they weren’t prescription meds, which left only one option.

  Dima took the baggie from Chat and lifted it to his nose.

  Bitter. Hollow. Chemical.

  Madness.

  The drugs held no particular scent of death, but he imagined that if you took enough of them, a trip to the afterlife wouldn’t be far behind. He wondered how many had been in the bag to begin with. If there were three left, was this simply a large purchase or was the victim also the dealer? Too many questions, but no answers were evident.

  “What is it? Ecstasy? Some kind of uppers or downers?” The bear’s voice dropped to a rough rumble. Chet was a pretty affable guy, open and friendly with the patrons, and easy to work for until something happened to change his mind. Dima hadn’t seen the big man get angry like this in a long time. Heads would roll.

  “It can’t be. Illegal drugs don’t affect supernaturals at all. There would be no point in taking them.”

  “Then what is it?”

  Dima frowned. He’d heard about something coming through the border at Volshev from his neighbor, Rodion Czernovitch. Rodion had belonged to the Border Crossing Patrol until he’d come to Nocturne Falls to recover from an injury received in the line of duty. He’d settled here with Carina, and was the newest member of the Nocturne Falls Sheriff’s Department.

  “Cold Pill. I can’t be sure, but my neighbor used to guard the fae/mundane border down in Volshev on the Trinity River. He mentioned something about a drug that was starting to come over that only affected other supernatural creatures. In Russian, it’s koldunya pyl’. It means ‘magic dust.’”

  The word that slipped from Chet’s mouth was one Dima fully endorsed.

  Sirens touched the edge of his hearing and he let Chet know the ambulance was near. The bear nodded. “I’ll let them know where to pull in so we don’t advertise the place to anyone watching.”

  Dima crouched next to the young fae and contemplated the outcome of poor life choices until he hear Chet’s voice announce his return, along with the footsteps of several other people. One set of steps in particular caught his attention.

  High heels were not generally the footwear of choice for emergency service personnel. And they usually didn’t smell like chocolate and peppermint.

  Elin walked in behind the stretcher and immediately turned her blue eyes to him. He held out his arms and she walked into them as if she belonged there.

  “Dima, what happened?”

  “What are you doing here?” Their questions stepped over each other, and he answered first.

  “I was called in just after I finished getting dressed. This young man was found on the bathroom floor. It looks like he’s OD’d on something.”

  One of the paramedics perked up. “OD’d? On what? He’s fae.”

  Dima handed over the baggie of pills, minus one that he pocketed. Perhaps it was only that he was Rus, but though he knew the sheriff would be on his way, he was never able put all his trust in the police. Dima wanted to check with a few sources to see if he could find out more on his own.

  “We found this in his pockets.”

  “Any idea what it is?”

  Dima and Chet shook their heads. Good. They were thinking on the same lines—there was no point in speculating, and the last thing they needed was for information to leak before they had all the facts.

  The woman took the pills and went back to work.

  He kept his arm around Elin and stepped over to his boss. “I need a couple of minutes.”

  Chet nodded, his eyes speculative. “You bet. He’s on his way, so don’t go far.”

  “He” was the owner of Insomnia, one who preferred to remain in the shadows and leave the day to day, or rather, night to night, management of the club in other capable hands. He’d want to be here for this.

  Dima nodded and walked with Elin to a door that led to a small alcove behind the building.

  Finally, he was able to admire her. She’d taken his breath away when she arrived. The blue gown fit her figure perfectly, not too tight, but molding itself along slim, delectable curves that she’d always hidden under those crazy Christmas sweaters. Her blond curls were piled up in a complicated looking mass of tendrils he wanted to touch and unravel. She was wearing more makeup than she had been earlier, and it made her eyes sensuous and deep. And her lips were slick and red and he wondered if they tasted as good as they looked.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked, after taking in the beautiful sight before him.

  “I…” She blinked those wide eyes and the pink flush from this morning returned. “I feel like an idiot.”

  “What happened?”

  “I got mad. That’s it. I got angry when you texted. I’d just realized that you read my work, and then you stood me up, and I put the dress on and stomped over here in a big snit to tell you off.” She put her hands on her cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I did that.”

  “I don’t blame you for being mad. Believe me, I didn’t want to send that text, but I’m not going to get out of here for a couple of hours.”

  “I know. That poor boy. Do you think he’ll be all right?”

  “I don’t know. I hope so,
but he was here all day by himself.” Dima frowned. “I’m not sure how that happened. Chet and I both checked the bathrooms. It’s procedure. What one person may miss, another will catch.”

  Something about the situation was bothering him. There was no way both he and Chet would have missed seeing someone lingering past closing time. Even if they didn’t see him, they would have smelled him.

  He put the dilemma to the side and concentrated on what was in front of him.

  “You look beautiful.” He’d have been so proud to take her to the Christmas ball, so happy to see her glitter under the lights.

  “Thanks. You look very handsome in your tuxedo.”

  “What a pair we make, all dressed up, standing in an alley.”

  “At least no one’s covered in hot chocolate this time.”

  Dima leaned in a little and sniffed. “But you do still smell of chocolate and peppermint. My two favorite flavors.”

  Elin hadn’t had this much fun flirting in years. “That’s something we have in common.”

  “That, and excellent taste in science fiction.”

  In all the fuss and her mortification over stomping down here like a toddler throwing a tantrum, it had slipped her mind that he’d read her story.

  “I nearly forgot. I was supposed to be mad at you about that, too.”

  “Mad? Why? It was very good reading. And I think your edits and notes are going to make it even better.”

  “You weren’t supposed to read it. No one’s read it before.”

  He smiled, his teeth bright in the darkness. “Then I’m honored. How many others have you written?”

  “Others? Oh no, this is my first. It took a long time to write it and I…well, I had a little too much wine the other night. I got brave enough to pitch it to some agents and editors on Twitter and it must have worked because I got a couple of requests. I’m putting the finishing touches on it and I’ll send it out at the end of the week.”

  She was still stunned that anyone had liked her rather tipsy pitch, but when not one, but two agents had asked her to send in her synopsis and the first three chapters, she’d been over-the-moon thrilled.

  “So I’m on a date with a soon-to-be-published author.”

  It sounded too good to be true, so she deflected. “No, you’re standing in an alley with a desperate writer in a ball gown.”

  “Same thing.”

  She laughed a little and he stepped closer.

  “I like your laugh.” His voice was quiet and husky, with that trace of Russian accent sliding over her skin.

  “I like your smile.” Elin’s voice was quiet, too.

  But the smile she liked so much faded. “I don’t smile often. Not until you. But you should know something. I’m not…”

  “Not what?” she asked when he stopped, obviously struggling with what he wanted to say next.

  “I’m not nice.”

  It was the last thing she expected to hear from him, and she was surprised. “I disagree.”

  “Excuse me?” He obviously wasn’t expecting that for an answer.

  “I think you’re very nice. You were nice to me at the coffee shop. You dried my pages and wrote interesting comments. That was nice.”

  His brows drew together. “Maybe I’m only nice to you.”

  “Nope. Sorry.” She shook her head at his cute frown. “I’ve sat in the coffee shop watching you for weeks. You’re nice to everyone. You help them carry things, you open doors, and I’ve seen you pay it forward more than once. Dima, I hate to break it to you, but you’re actually a pretty nice guy. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

  “You came here to yell at me.”

  She waved his comment away. “Maybe. But I was only that angry because after all the sweet things you’ve done, it shocked me that you could stand me up via text.”

  “About that. We should probably get you home. I’m going to be here for quite a whi—”

  Elin was all set to argue with him when he broke off. She knew he was a wolf, but the proof was shifting in front of her. Dima hunched and writhed as his bones cracked and reformed. He grew unnaturally tall as his arms lengthened and sharp claws sprouted from his fingers. White teeth became fangs as his face elongated into something murderously lupine.

  A werewolf. Not the kind like most of the other wolf shifters in Nocturne Falls who changed into large wolves. She was reminded forcefully that there were many kinds of shapeshifters, and Dima was from the Rus. He was a creature part wolf, part man, all monster.

  He spun, putting her behind him, and the growl that rumbled through his body made her every cell vibrate.

  With a deep sniff, he called out, “Come out, come out, wherever you are.” The children’s rhyme had never sounded so ominous, delivered in an inhuman snarl.

  A bright light blinded her for a moment, and when it faded, it left residual flashes that made her vision untrustworthy. A voice, light and sweet with an Eastern European accent, intruded on her confusion.

  “I only want what’s mine. Give me the rest of my stash, oborotyen.”

  Dima growled. “You’re the one peddling Cold Pill?”

  “You know what it is, then? Want a taste? I can hook you up.”

  Elin couldn’t figure out where the voice was coming from. One moment it was in front of her, the next, it echoed high above her against the brick walls.

  “That kid nearly died. Is that how you keep your clientele? Kill one and the rest will line up?”

  “He was stupid. I warned him, but he took too much.” Now it was off to her right.

  “Doesn’t sound like you’ll be getting much repeat business.”

  Dima stayed in front of her, but swung his arms out, trying to catch the voice that seemed to come from all around them. It was a clever little spell because she was completely disoriented.

  “Hey, I left him where you could find him. He’ll probably live, but I didn’t have time to check his pockets. I’m just here to grab what’s left of my stash and I’ll let you go. No need for you or your pretty lady to get hurt here.”

  The growl intensified. “You really shouldn’t have said that.”

  Dima backed up until her back touched the cold brick wall of the building. One of his clawed hands reached down and touched her thigh, squeezing lightly to convey a message. Stay back.

  Dima stepped forward, still searching for the voice that hummed a happy little tune. The sound continued to bounce off all the walls, but she had an idea. Elin was a computer nerd who write sci-fi novels on the side. But she was also a winter elf. She might not be as powerful as Jayne or Dima, but she wasn’t helpless, either.

  She bent down to grab a handful of dust and gravel, trying not to think of her fresh manicure, and brought it to her mouth. Taking a deep breath, she pulled on her winter magic and blew a steady stream of Arctic air. Ice stuck to each particle as it flew from her palm and dusted everything in the alleyway.

  Including the drug dealer.

  The small, dark man was perched on top of the half-wall that divided the alley in sections. He wasn’t anything she’d seen before, but Dima’s growl intensified.

  “Chuma. I should have known you’d be mixed up in spreading this plague.”

  “Just doing my job. And you, Dima Samarin. I thought you’d died a dog’s death years ago.”

  “Perhaps you will tonight.”

  The little man was nimble and quick, but Dima was amazing. Elin stepped back to the wall where he’d left her and watched as the two tumbled and grappled with deadly intent.

  She’d never seen a real fight before, and the silence of it struck her. But for the sliding of feet, the slap of a well-aimed blow, or the occasional grunt, neither combatant made a sound.

  Chapter Four

  Dima had been born fighting. First to protect himself from the harsh environment he’d grown up in. Later, it became a marketable skill that he’d put to use in ways he wasn’t always proud of.

  He might be getting older and a little slower t
han he used to be, but he made up for it with years of skill. And a stubborn determination not to look bad in front of Elin.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her watching them.

  But far from shrinking away in horror, his bloodthirsty winter elf’s eyes were narrowed, and her fists were clenched. She swung against a mock opponent and half-shouted encouragement. “Get him, Dima! Knock him down!”

  He was so startled, he took a sharp jab to the cheek that split the skin. That got his attention.

  He was done with this fight. In a set of practiced moves, he struck with all his muscle behind each blow. In seconds, the chuma was down, bleeding from his mouth and nose, out cold on the ground.

  She whooped in joy and ran to him. He barely caught her as she leaped into his arms and began planting smacking kisses on his face.

  The door to the alley slammed open and Chet barreled out, followed by Sheriff Merrow and a couple of his deputies, including Rodion.

  Dima shifted with a thought, Elin still wrapped around him, and he clutched her more tightly as he stepped back into the shadows and put her back against the wall.

  He brought one hand up to the back of her neck to hold her still, and kissed her, at least partly to get her to pay attention, but mostly because he needed to kiss her as much as he needed his next breath.

  She had brought him warmth and joy and laughter today. More than he’d had in his life in years. She was fierce and fiercely intelligent, and he wanted nothing more than to get closer to her. Closer than they were right now with her chocolate and peppermint flavored mouth under his, her hands sifting through his hair, and her legs wrapped around his waist.

  When she finally pulled back, her eyes were shining and soft, and her lips gleamed in a tremulous smile.

  “This is not how these things usually turn out.” Sheriff Merrow’s dry tones brought them back to reality.