Silent Night
Book Four of The Night Songs Collection
KRISTEN STRASSEL
All Rights Reserved
Copyright © 2014 Kristen Strassel All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any manner without the express written consent of the publisher, except in the case of brief excerpts in critical reviews or articles. All inquiries should be addressed to [email protected]
Strassel, Kristen. Because the Night (The Night Songs Collection - Book Four)
Cover design by Nathalia Suellen
ISBN#978-1500396459
Other books by Kristen Strassel:
The Night Songs Collection:
Seasons in the Sun
Because the Night
Night Moves
We Own the Night
The Spotlight Series:
Secondhand Heart
One
Our tradition was simple, but perfect. Every Christmas Eve, my Memere and I would open one gift early. Pajamas, it was always new pajamas. We'd put them on then curl up on the couch under a mountain of blankets and watch A Christmas Story over and over again. Every year, she'd ask me what I wanted for dinner that night, like there was ever any chance of me picking something different. Every year, I wanted tourtiere, French Canadian pork pie. Christmas Eve night was my favorite part of Christmas.
But this year, there was no pie, no pajamas, no movie marathon, and no Memere.
I wasn't doing well.
"Kyndra, you know you're more than welcome to come over. Jason's family will all be there. It will be loud and rowdy but fun. Kids everywhere. Tons of food." My supervisor, Katie, made one last attempt to invite me to her family's Christmas celebration.
"I'm headed to my aunt's house, but thanks. Again." I didn't look her in the eye as I hung up my uniform blazer in the locker room. If I did, she might pick up how awful her invite actually sounded to me.
Lies. All lies. They were becoming easier than the truth.
My aunt mentioned Christmas to me sometime around Halloween, which was the last time I talked to her. She'd made no effort to follow up and make sure I actually had a place to go. I'd fielded and turned down many invites. I came up with The Aunt Story rather than offending everyone with the truth, which was I just didn't want to celebrate Christmas with them. That I held on to some kind of hope that I could spend the day with the ghosts of Christmases past. It was better to put everyone's mind at rest. I gave them enough to worry about.
The last thing I wanted to feel like on Christmas was an alien. The thing that wasn't like the others. The one that didn’t belong. The idea of having to introduce myself to anyone's family, or explain why I wasn't with my own family--or worse yet, explain that I had no family—filled me with a fear rivaled only by having no place to go on Christmas. I didn't want to ruin anyone else's celebration. I couldn't be happy on this day, yet. I'd dreaded it for the last six months. I‘d decided it was better for everyone if I spent Chistmas alone.
I just needed to sort things out on my own. I didn't ask anyone to understand.
I bundled up better than usual, just in case the inevitable happened. I kept as much stuff in my work locker as I possibly could. Winter clothes and books tumbled out every time I opened it. No one even paid attention anymore. With the end of the holidays came the end of overnight shifts, and I was trying not to freak out. I hadn't actually been working that shift, but no one said anything when I slept in the breakroom. It was my way of giving my friends a break from feeling like they had to take care of me. They couldn't say yes all the time, and sometimes I didn't ask. Like tonight.
The city was all snuggled in for the holiday. Hardly any cars passed by me as I walked toward the shelter. Only the street lights lit up the road weakly without the aid of the neon business signs. Everyone was home with their families that night, where they belonged.
Even the old school that was now a women's shelter stood eerily quiet. My footsteps crunched in the fresh snow that had fallen during the day as if on cue for insta-holiday cheer. They echoed against the dark buildings, the only noise on the normally busy street.
My heart lept up into my throat. I knew the drill. I was late. But I'd offered to help close the store tonight. I didn't want anyone to miss family time to sell panties to procrastinators.
"Hi, Marcy." My smile was too big for my face, hoping for a miracle. The Spirit House Momma wouldn't miss a night, even one of the most holy of the year. "Are there any beds left?"
"Oh, sweetheart, no." Marcy looked devastated. "It's a busy night tonight, especially with the snow. I can see if there's any extra blankets and maybe we can make you up a bed on the floor. It's the best I can do."
I tried to remember to breathe. I couldn't have her come back and tell me she didn't have more blankets. I couldn't get my hopes up again. "No. That's okay." I turned and pushed the door back open.
"Kyndra, where are you going to go? It's Christmas." She sounded as desperate as I felt. I wished I had an answer for her.
"I can head to my aunt's house. She invited me." Of course, I didn't mention my aunt lived forty-five minutes away. "It's no big deal."
"Well, as long as you have a place to go." Marcy may or may not have believed me. "I can't bear to think of you on the street on Christmas Eve."
"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine." I said more for my own benefit than hers. I called over my shoulder. "Have a good Christmas."
Now what?
All my emergency hiding places would be closed for the holiday. I didn't want to call Matt, that was my last resort. The only thing that could possibly make me feel worse tonight would be getting high and having sex with Matt. At least there I wouldn't have to worry about getting in the way of any holiday celebrations. All the cokeheads that squatted in that house probably didn’t even realize it was Christmas.
I wanted to feel every moment of this, sober. I needed to process these feelings in the most raw form, then maybe I could start moving forward instead of constantly looking to the past. If I went to Matt's, I'd succumb to whatever he had there just to blur the pain.
No, not tonight. I wasn't going there.
I held in my tears until I was out of Marcy's earshot. They came out fast and ugly as I crossed the street, headed back toward the mall. I sobbed so loudly I was afraid to actually break the silent night and ruin it for everyone. The wind chapped my damp face as I rubbed the tears away with my mitten.
This was real. This was happening. This is what I had wanted, but not like this. I insisted I wanted to be alone, but I really wanted someone to swoop in and save me from myself on this miserable night.
But I'd shut out everyone who tried to do just that.
Now the mall was dark and abandoned. All the lights were out, and the parking garage was gated like a jail. Good, no one would see me. They couldn’t catch me lying. I leaned up against the wall and took the deepest breath I could manage. The cold air felt like knives slicing against my throat, already raw from bawling.
What was I going to do? I hadn't thought this far ahead. I'd just kept my brain busy, hoping that if I thought about other things, this day wouldn't come.
It hadn't worked yet, so why was I still so foolish? I told myself Memere would get better, even though no one agreed with me. I never thought I'd have nowhere to go, even when the last day I could stay in our senior apartment complex passed and I spent my first night at The Spirit House. And Christmas still came, even though I had nothing to celebrate.
I pushed myself off the cold concrete wall a
nd started walking without giving much thought to where I was going. Another stupid move. Monsters really did hide in dark places when you were a girl walking alone in the city at night. That's another lesson I'd learned the hard way. I could leave my money in my locker at work, but I couldn't leave my body there. I'd let my guard down before, out of exhaustion and desperation, my defenses blurred thanks to whatever Matt had given me, and they knew. I’d been grabbed, swallowed by the shadows where no one could hear me scream, and then left in the dark; dirty, broken, and painfully sobered, to pick up the pieces.
Hopefully those bastards would be too busy celebrating with their families to attack anyone tonight.
Multicolored shadows fell on the snow at the intersection. They didn't look like streetlights. Curious, I picked up my pace and headed toward the soft blue and orange glow. All my muscles relaxed when I realized what I was looking at. Stained glass.
Families began to file into the large church for Midnight Mass. A tall, proud stone building welcomed all without judgement. Even me. Memere had gone to church religiously. That had been one of our jokes. But once I was old enough to have a say, she couldn't talk me into going with her anymore.
I headed in, curious to see if there really was a God. Maybe Memere was right all along. This was how we'd spend Christmas Eve together this year.
I smiled to no one as I sunk into a pew in the back row and shrugged out of my layers of outerwear. Thankfully, my all black work uniform looked dressy enough to fit in. I picked up the hymn book and flipped through, finding peace in the familiar songs. For the first time in six months, I felt like I wasn’t alone.
"I was hoping I'd see you here." A man who I didn't know sat next to me. He‘d brought the cold in with him. His smile was warm and genuine, the kind reserved for people you knew. I smiled back at him, puzzled. Something about him was familiar, but I didn't know what.
"I don't think I know you. Do I?" I stumbled over my words. He didn't look like someone who would be friends with me. Maybe he was a teacher, or a doctor? "I'm kind of embarrassed if I do."
The man looked as surprised as I did. And a little disappointed. "I'm sorry. Maybe I thought you were someone else? I'm Aidan." He held out his hand to me, and I expected his firm, sure handshake.
"I'm Kyndra." I searched his face, his person, trying to place him. Dark hair flopped down on his forehead, almost obscuring his equally dark eyes. He had high cheekbones, the beginnings of five o’clock shadow and full lips. Stop looking at his lips, Kyndra. You're in a church, I reminded myself. Lust was probably covered in the Ten Commandments and off limits in this building. I forced my eyes down. He wore a gray suit for the occasion, his light blue tie looked icy against his tawny skin. I always liked it when people dressed up for special days. Had I planned to come here and could even get to my dressy clothes, I would have worn something special. Too many people here hadn’t been bothered with anything better than jeans and sweatshirts. I brought my eyes back up to his. He‘d watched me look him over, and from the crinkles in the corners of his eyes, I could tell he was amused.
"I know," he said quietly. He didn't break his gaze. I should have been creeped out, but honestly, I think I would have been disappointed if he‘d said or done anything else.
I didn't know how to react, so I looked down to the hymn book in my lap, scrambling to find the page with tonight's mass program on it. What the hell was going on in this church?
"Have you been here for Midnight Mass before? It's a beautiful service," Aidan continued, either oblivious to or feeding off of my awkwardness.
"No. I used to go to church with my grandmother, but it's been a while." I stole a quick glance up at him again. Had I waited on him at work? That wouldn't make this any less weird. I worked at a lingerie store. Either he was shopping for someone else, or for himself. That happened more than you’d expect. And with the people you least expected. Either way, I shouldn't get involved. He looked at least fifteen years older than me and more than a couple of tax brackets richer.
But he probably had a nice, warm house to go to after the service. Maybe a condo in a triple decker. Or a high rise apartment. Single family houses were few and far between in Boston. If he had one, he had a family. I fought disappointment at that thought.
Kyndra, you will not follow some strange man home on Christmas. No matter how much you think you know each other. No matter how good looking and put together he is. That's how you wind up in pieces in a cardboard box in some random lot. That’s how you became the lead off story on the nightly news.
"My grandmother brought me to church when we were kids, too. I miss that. I can't find services in French around here."
"You're from France?" Oh, this guy was just too much.
"No. Quebec," he said with a chuckle. Okay, that was better. There was nothing sexy about Quebec. "But I try to stay true to my nature."
"And what is that?" I was intrigued. He seemed sincere, but I was beginning to think he was just a compulsive, lying weirdo alone at church on Christmas Eve. "And where is your family tonight?"
"I like to take care of people," he said without any pretense. I wanted to roll my eyes so badly, but still, he seemed to mean it. And I could use some of that. Stop thinking like that, I yelled at myself silently. You're just going to get yourself in trouble.
Maybe that's what I want, my inner dialogue continued defiantly.
My family is scattered throughout the country," Aidan continued. "What about yours? You're not all alone on Christmas, are you?" The service was about to start and the pews began to fill. I had to slide in, so close our legs touched.
I panicked, not knowing how to answer the question. He'd know if I lied to him. He knew too much. And I didn't know why.
"It's not so bad." I didn't look at him, or the book. I stared blankly ahead, watching families file into their seats. The blur had to be unshed tears.
"No one should be alone on Christmas." Aidan squeezed my hand, but neither of us had a chance to say more before the service began.
Two
To say I had no family wasn't exactly the truth. I didn't have any family that really gave a crap about me. The aunt I used as a scapegoat had mentioned me coming over for Christmas when she called me a couple months ago. She pretended to care what was happening with me, but come on. She knew I didn't have any place to go or any money. Every time we talked, she just asked me what I was going to do about it. Way to help out, Jackie. And my mom was someone who flitted in and out of my life bringing more disappointment than comfort. That's how I wound up living with Memere in the first place.
The service started at exactly the right time. This Aidan guy had me in a tailspin. I put all my energy into singing along with the choir, but I was exhausted already from working all day. I couldn't stop thinking about what would happen when church closed up shop for the night. The cold radiated off of Aidan like a premonition of things to come.
I snuck glances at him while the priest spoke. He seemed to have no problem getting lost in the sermon about why Jesus came to earth as a human so we could identify with him. But why did I identify with Aidan? He looked over at me and smiled. I did my best not to meet his eyes. When we had to shake hands and offer peace, he held my hand in his for longer than he needed to.
I didn't know if I couldn't wait for this to be over or if I never wanted it to end.
Aidan followed me up to communion. I didn't look back at him, but I was very aware of his presence, his body, behind me. He walked just a little too close, his breath sent shivers down my spine. I blessed myself and went back to my seat, looking around at the rest of the congregation. The kids looked restless, and the parents tired. They probably still had hours of playing Santa ahead of them. I sat down, painfully aware that my time here was drawing to a close.
The priest bade the congregation to go in to the night in peace, to celebrate this great day when the Son of God was born. Jesus was born in a manger because there was no room at the inn. I was a little closer to a
recreation than a celebration.
I smiled at Aidan as I wrapped my scarf around my neck a second time. "Have a good night," I muttered before looking for my getaway.
"Wait." He reached for me as I turned to leave the pew. "Do you want to get coffee? The diner down the street is open all night."
Two warm things that sounded wonderful. "Even tonight?"
"Even tonight. I checked. Come on." Aidan hooked his arm for me to loop mine through his. I giggled nervously as I did it. So was this some weird plan of his? Troll Catholic churches for conflicted girls desperate not to be alone?
I didn't have any better offers on the table.
Much to my surprise, we weren't the only ones at the diner. Who the hell goes out for breakfast in the middle of the night on Christmas Eve? There were college aged kids, old people, and people who looked a lot like me: far away from their family on this lonely night.
"Order whatever you want. My treat." Aidan looked over his menu at me. His skin looked almost porcelain under the harsh fluorescent light. "Did you eat dinner?"
"I had pizza at work."
"Pizza is not a proper dinner," he almost scolded. "Do you usually have turkey on Christmas?"
"Never." I turned up my nose. I just met this man. I wasn't sharing all my traditions with him. “Turkey’s gross.”
"Tourtiere?" He raised an eyebrow.
I nodded, scarcely able to hide my shock.“How did you know?“
Aidan smiled sadly. “That’s what I always used to have. Lucky guess.”
"What do you have now?" I wanted to turn the attention away from me. Out of all things, how did he guess that?
"I'm not hungry. I'm just going to get some tea." He looked up and smiled easily at the waitress. I bet she would have gone home with Aidan tonight, no questions asked. I ordered orange soda and a tuna melt.
Aidan laughed as she walked away. "That's not very Christmasy."
Silent Night: Vampire Holiday Romance (The Night Songs Collection Book 4) Page 1
