by C. L. Quinn
“All right then. I’ll just have some booze and keep an eye out for a comely wench.”
Tamesine watched Xavier for a moment. How was it that the man hadn’t yet stepped out of the eighteenth century?
“Thank you, then, for that. I’ll still be back in a few hours for round two.”
Xavier stayed behind as the others climbed back into the car and headed back to the villa. Popping open the bottle of MoonShine that Ahmose had left for him, he sat down on a chipped concrete bench across from Claude.
The man was beginning conversion, and it was an awful thing to watch. Painful, a full genetic change from only human to something much more ancient and powerful. In essence, the body is torn down and rebuilt from human to vampire. The internal heat was so deep, nothing could cool you.
Xavier leaned back and pulled up a foot to rest on the edge of the bench to enjoy the show.
Claude released a wail of agony and weakly tried to tear at his clothes. Liquid fire wrecked him, he was going to burn into ashes. Had she done something to him? Something wrong? This kind of pain couldn’t be right, it couldn’t be survivable, right? Through blurred lenses, his eyes sought someone to help him. Was there anyone here? Yes, a big form, a person, someone, over by the wall.
“Help…” he managed to get out. The big unfocused form didn’t move. With the greatest struggle of his life, he rolled over and faced the unknown person. “Help,” he repeated.
Finally, the person turned to him. After an intense wave of pain, Claude’s vision cleared, and he sought the identity of his companion in the daylight-free basement of this abandoned villa. Oh, fuck, it was the foulest tempered of all the vampires. There was no choice, the giant man was all that he could see.
“Is this…right? Am I…is this how it’s supposed to be? Can you help me?”
Xavier smiled at the pain-ripped Claude. “I’m helping right where I am. You haven’t been beheaded have you? Yet. Night’s young, though.” Xavier killed a long draw of the sweet wine. “This is shaping up to be one of my finest holidays. Do ya have any gorgeous wenches about?”
Seven
He was warm and dreaming of an extra-large pepperoni pizza. Taggert rolled up against a soft body and hugged close. His fingers curled around full round breasts that felt like heaven. Ummm. It had been a long time since he’d been close to someone like this. Someone to share that pizza with and laugh and make love. Someone to belong to. Coming awake slowly, he realized where he was and who he held.
It was all a dream. She wasn’t his, he’d never even seen her face, and they were still in danger of losing their lives. He was falling in love with her voice, though. Rich, melodic, her voice remained surprisingly cheerful considering the situation.
They’d given into the desperation and passion of the moment last night and had sex. Wonderful, erotic moments built on hope and loss and fear at a time they needed it most. He remembered every touch, every feeling. The release had helped clear his mind and refocus on the task of finding a way out of here.
“Good morning. Or night. Or afternoon. I guess it doesn’t really matter.”
Taggert closed his eyes again and listened to the humor in her tone, which made him smile instantly. He couldn’t wait to see her.
“It will soon. We have to get out of here. I owe you a dinner, and I was just lying here thinking how much I want to see your face…your eyes.”
Quiet, Merry slid out from under his arms. Pacing away from him, she used her foot to feel around for her clothes. Once she found the bundle, she began to dress.
“I feel the same way, so let’s do this. We have to get that cover off the vent.”
“That’s the priority.”
She could hear him moving now, too, the rustling of fabric as he slid his pants on and pulled his shirt over his head. The moment he moved closer, she knew it.
His hand searching, it found her shoulder and moved to her face. “Thank you for last night. Or this morning. You know what I mean. Does it sound odd to say that that was the best time I’ve had in a long time?”
Merry laughed. “Not even close. I feel the same way. You made me forget where we are and how frightened I was.” She paused.
“And for the spectacular orgasm.”
“Ditto.” Lame. He knew it was. Right now, though, he was feeling like an emotional schoolboy, building a relationship in his mind with this lovely girl that probably just wanted to get out of here and away from him faster than the speed of light. The odd thing was, there wasn’t anyone who avoided emotional connection like he did, so why did he feel like this?
“Are you okay, Taggert?” Merry’s question interrupted his rumination. “It’s weird, but I can almost hear you thinking and you seem upset.”
“No.” Then, stronger, he repeated the word. “No, I’m just thinking. About how to remove the panel without a screwdriver or something to act like one.”
Both were silent, Merry wondering if he was telling her the truth, because somehow, she knew that his mind was somewhere else. And Taggert, because his mind had been.
Merry also had another idea bouncing through her thoughts. If they had slept through another night, and they had no idea if they had, today was Christmas.
Taggert walked in circles, considering their options. Not only did they have to get out of here because it was incontrovertible that they would be killed, he could only imagine what Claude wanted from the vampires. If it was what he expected, then it was bad news for everyone.
“Oh, damn, Taggert! I should have thought of this before! I’ve got it! The clasp on my bra!”
“What?”
“The clasp on my bra. I bet it would work like a screwdriver. The heads of the screws are straight, not Phillips head. And the clasp on the back of my bra is a metal slab. They don’t really use metal anymore, it’s usually some kind of plastic, but I buy my stuff at a thrift store downtown. I love that little flower shop, but it isn’t exactly a big moneymaker. Anyway, I love the old vintage lingerie, and this bra has a big-ass metal clasp. Here.”
He heard a zipper, then a few other whispers, a low snick, and her hand came at him out of the dark. She handed him a piece of fabric, mostly lace (it was still warm!), and he felt the strips that would have gone around Merry’s slim back. Attached to them were two narrow, but strong, metal clasps.
“Oh, baby, holy shit! You’re right. This should work!”
Taggert picked Merry up and swung her around, letting her slide down against him afterward. He hadn’t realized she still had her shirt off and her breasts were still bare. And he couldn’t help himself, he lowered his head and pulled one nipple into his mouth to play with it. His tongue knew exactly what to do, and once she sighed and dropped back to give him better access, he swept her up and brought her to the floor with him.
“You taste so good,” he whispered, when he lifted his head for a moment.
“Wait until you taste me after a fresh shower, it’ll blow your mind,” she said, a smile apparent in her voice.
“I’d like that chance.” He kissed each nipple gently and pulled her back to her feet. “And on that note, let’s get this done, milady. I want to get out of here, kill that motherfucker, let Lauren and her people know we’re okay, take you to dinner, and give you a proper Christmas gift in a soft bed. How about that?”
“I love that plan.”
“Then get dressed and get ready for some acrobatic heroics. Thank you for these clasps, they might just save our lives.”
“Sometimes even a flower shop girl can have a good idea.”
“Merry, one thing I’ve learned this year is that if you have a strong woman beside you, you have an army. I learned that from the vam…uh, people that Lauren is working with now.”
“Good to know. So, get those clasps free and let’s get out of this hole.”
With Merry on his shoulders, her balance improving, Taggert worked hard to keep her still while she backed the screws out that held the plate over the vent.
“I’m sorry, Taggert. These freaking screws are long. My father was from Kentucky, and he used to fix everything with the longest ass nail he could find. I don’t care what he was fixing, even hanging a picture, he used a nail 4 inches long. It looks like whoever did this had the same background.”
“Great. Foiled by a redneck.”
“Hey, that means you’re calling me a redneck too. Well, I only lived with him until I was 8, so I guess I’m exempt.”
“Your parents break up?”
It took a few moments for Merry to answer as she continued to turn the second screw counter-clockwise to back it out. “My mother did. One day, I came home from school, she had our bags packed, threw me in the car, and took me to New York. Said she had dreams and was sick of living in Hooterville with Jethro.”
Taggert couldn’t see Merry’s eyes, but her voice cracked a little as she continued.
“I don’t know what ever happened to my dad. He never found us, and when I tried to find him when I was 16, I couldn’t. I didn’t remember much about where we lived in Kentucky other than that it was near the southern border and it was pretty and filled with trees. And that my father was a good man. Not like…”
Taggert waited below Merry, one hand on one buttock, the other on her waist. He didn’t need to hear her finish. Just the fact that she’d left home when she was just shy of 17, before she finished high school, let him know that there had to be a reason. And he knew what that reason was by her last two statements. Anger surged that someone had tried to hurt this woman when she was too young and innocent to know that those people existed. He was all too familiar with the type.
“I’m sorry, Merry. If we get out of here, I’m really good at tracking people. If you would like, I’d love to help you.”
She didn’t speak for several long seconds. When she finally did, it was quick and to the point. “I’d like that.”
Afterward, discovery session seemed to be over. Merry got down to work on the vent and had a third of 16 screws out when a scuffle outside the door let them know that their dinner tray was coming. And that their jailer was too nearby.
Taggert lowered Merry quickly and set her feet carefully on the floor.
“Ooh, colder than it was. Shit!”
“Here, stand on my feet.”
“Normally, I’d man up, but I’m going to take you up on that.”
The slits opened beneath the door, the slice of light shone on the floor as the tray shot in long enough for them to see that the tile in here was white, then it slammed shut again.
Lifting her into his arms, Taggert carried Merry across the room to just before where he thought the tray was.
They both dropped down and found it, fingers touching, and she caressed his for a moment before they sat beside the tray and began to eat.
“Tuna salad again. Not bad, though, for tuna salad. Raspberry juice. Yum.”
Merry grinned at that. “This is Christmas dinner, Taggert. I think. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Merry.”
IN SOUTHERN FRANCE
“Maman, is Santa coming tonight?” Cairine was the oldest of the children and had taken it upon herself to find out exactly what was happening with the arrival of Santa. Although her father and mother had explained who Santa was, she still didn’t understand quite why a man with a sleigh filled with toys would be bringing them to her or her friends here in France.
“Oui, my darling. He will be here this night, so you must be asleep for him to do his job and leave the toys for you and all the other children.”
Park smiled at the phrase all the other children. How full this house was with so many first blood children here!
What a wonderful thing if it could always be so!
“I do not understand why he cares if I am asleep. I do not see why a strange man would bring toys to us.”
Bas, in the back of the room with Koen, shook his head. He looked at Ahmose, who was also watching the children because his own little boy was sitting with Cairine and Caedmon eating cookies shaped like snowmen.
“She’s already analyzing her world and she’s not even 5 years old. She’s already telling me how to do things.”
“We will be obsolete when these children reach maturity,” Ahmose agreed.
His eyes moved to his mate, seated on a big plush chair with his newest daughter held up in her lap. The baby was only 3 months old, her little dark eyes watched everything with great interest, her pink lips curled into a smile that he knew would break hearts someday. It had already stolen his. Beside Mal, the mother of his other two children sprawled on the floor with his first daughter. The children of the moon’s children. Magic. This celebration was exactly what they all needed after the tragedies and glories of the past few years.
That it had been overshadowed by the evil human determined to force powerful vampires to do his will, was unpardonable. Tamesine, the vampire that had been chosen for this task, sat on a large sofa with her mate. In a wide bassinet beside Marc, their twin first blood babies lay cooing. Ahmose could see that Tamesine was still troubled by the events. No one wanted to see this man made vampire, even if they would eventually kill him. He wanted to assure her that all would be okay, he knew that it would.
Cherise burst into the room. “My family and friends, you must come to the beach. I understand that Chione and her new mate have a special Christmas surprise for us.”
Minutes later, the stone steps that led from the villa to the beach were filled with Koen’s guests as they joined him and several others already on the beach.
Someone had stoked the fire and it was strong again, the heat welcome as the breeze from the ocean curled around bare arms.
“Everyone, please, get comfortable.”
The tall Donovan, handsome, his light brown hair now long and pulled into a low ponytail, came closer to the fire. He was barefoot, shirtless, and gently held the hand of his mate, child of the moon Chione. Their relationship still new, they were inseparable.
Cherise smiled as she watched them stealing glances at each other while they tried to address the gathered audience. The power that blew off of these vampires was unlike anything she’d ever felt in her life. It was remarkable and worthy of the universe which had granted it to them months earlier. Her eyes sparkled as Chione smiled at everyone and spoke.
“We wanted this evening to be very, very special. Donovan and I would like to show you our gifts, because we believe that you should all know what we can do and why. We are all guardians of the children who will someday protect this planet. And we have been drafted by Mother Earth to help them do so.”
Donovan squeezed Chione’s hand. “So this will be a demonstration of that talent. We are powerful alone, but together…even we are still discovering what we can do. So the demonstration is two-fold. We want to show you what we can do, and we want to entertain you for this very special holiday. Chione tells me that the two clans have never been together like this before, and that these beautiful children are rare and precious beyond all. This, then, is worthy, I think, of this historic event.”
Stepping back slightly, Donovan and Chione’s interlaced hands lifted to the sky, their free arms held out to their sides.
Chione watched the rapt faces lit by flickering firelight. She smiled and spoke. “Dance,” she said softly.
For a moment, everything was still, including the air. Then heads all around the fire began to turn and watch as the sands around the perimeter of their gathering began to lift and swirl, faster and higher, into elaborate patterns until they created a perfect dome over their heads.
The children giggled because they’d never seen anything like this before. The adults were silent for the same reason. It was beautiful and magical, the sand and air in perfect concert as they did exactly what they were asked to do.
Donovan’s eyes twinkled now and his free arm lifted to the sky. “Glow,” he commanded quietly.
While the sands continued to fly, the ocean began to brighten. Dark w
aters that they could mostly only hear took on a brightness that continued to increase until it created an immense, brilliant supernatural night-light. The restless waves rolled from beyond the shoreline until they couldn’t move forward anymore and broke against bright pink-colored sands. A blue glow began within the white and each wave became pastel magic as they came and went on the dark night.
“If anyone would like to swim, the temperature of the water tonight is considerably warmer than normal. It is our gift to you on this night of miracles. This is a time of year that the Mother Earth cherishes because she can feel the attempt all over her surface to find serenity, love, and hope.” Chione bowed her head in her usual gesture of shy deference. “My lovely family and friends, Merry Christmas from the living planet and her humble sentries. We wield her power tonight only to let you know that when the battle comes someday, we, and our children, are not alone.”
Tamesine held her son close as she watched the magics play with nature, the physics of the world taking the night off here on Koen’s beach. Even she, with all of her unmatched power, could not do this. She’d seen some of what Chione and Donovan could do in Brazil, but this showed that those powers had continued to grow and that they now knew how to use them. Smiling, she kissed Bryson on his forehead. It would be all right. This thing with Claude, this forced conversion, would matter not at all when the vampires got together.
Nothing, nothing, could prevail over those who had been sent by the powers-that-be to protect this beautiful world.
It was nearly time to go back and begin another blood feeding. She’d do it, and come back in time to crawl into her warm bed beside her mate. It would be a good night after all.
Three hours later, the party had broken up and Koen led his guests back to their rooms.
