A Vampire's Christmas Wish (Vampires On Holiday #1)

by M. L. Guida

  She dug her nails into his muscular shoulders trying to hold on. He kissed and licked her throat. Pain gripped her neck. Had he bit her? He sucked hard and bright, raging storms of pleasure washed over her. She came in one powerful dissolving orgasm. Her body tightened and splintered into tiny spasms one after another, only vaguely aware that Janus arched his back and cried out, releasing his hot seed inside her.

  Breathing hard, he collapsed onto top of her and licked her neck one more time. “It’s been so long. Too long.”

  “Since you’ve been with a woman?”

  “No, since I’ve been with you.”

  He was a vampire and remembered being with her. Why was he obsessed her? No man had ever wanted her like he did. She wasn’t sure how to handle his declaration. A pool of fear settled in her gut and she gasped. “My God, did you bite me?”

  He tensed and laid his head on her forehead. “I’m sorry. I thought I could control it, but with you.” He hung his head. “Ah, shit, with you, I lose myself. It’s my fault.

  He continued to pulse inside her. She put her hand to her neck and couldn’t shake the feeling that he had changed her into a vampire. Had she run from one nightmare to another?

  She stopped rubbing his back, not sure what to say or how to proceed. He was inside her. She had as much sense as a rutting elk. “Janus?”

  He didn’t answer, but peered down at her with hooded eyes.

  “Am I vampire?”

  He stilled.

  Her heart beat overtime and she was one step away from another heartache. “Am I?”

  “No, you’re not.”

  She winced from his hard voice. What if he was lying? She didn’t feel different, but what do you feel like when you transform into a vampire?

  He clasped her chin. “You don’t believe me?”

  Shit, he was a vampire. He could read minds. “I just met you.”

  His eyes burning red, he slowly pulled out of her and rolled to the side. He laid his arm across his forehead and mumbled, “I can feel the dawn coming.”

  The moonlight glistened on his long incisors. Naked and trembling, she jumped out of bed. He reached for her. “Deirdre?”

  She lurched for the bathroom, slammed the door and locked it. She rushed to the sink and patted her neck. There wasn’t even any blood. Had he licked the wounds clean like vampires did in the movies?

  Fuck, she slept with a vampire and like a dumb ass, let him bit her. She sank onto the cold tile floor. She was a wet mess.

  He tapped on the door. “Deirdre, please open the door.”

  “No,” she whispered. There were no windows in the bathroom. The only way out was through the door, through his bedroom, past him. She scooted to the door and leaned against it, her bare feet planted into the tile floor. Like this was going to work.

  “Deirdre, I’m sorry. I’ve been searching for you. I’m a lonely vampire. One who regrets losing you.”

  Was he sincere? Was it a trick? He was a vampire. All the books she’d ever read meant he was powerful. Powerful enough to break down the door and force her under his will.

  She could still taste him. Damn it, she ached to taste him once more. A vampire. What was wrong with her? She wanted to touch him and lick his skin. Feel him thrusting inside her again and again. She never felt that way with Brandon or with any man. Was Janus compelling her to desire this? Making her his love slave like Dracula had done to Lucy?

  “Please,” he murmured, behind the door. “Don’t leave me, Deirdre.”

  She didn’t have much choice. “You promise you won’t attack me?”

  “I swear.”

  His voice was faint and hurt. Could it be a trick? She had an urge to unlock the door. God, was she already under his control? If she was, it would be on her terms. Straightening her hair, she stood and unlocked the door.

  Janus was slumped on the floor. “I won’t hurt you.”

  She folded her arms across her bare chest. “So, you’ve using vampire powers to make me open the door.”

  He ran his hand through his hair. “Hardly.”

  “Aren’t all vampires evil.”

  “Like humans, some of us are good, some bad.”

  “And what are you?”

  “That’s for you to decide.”

  “Was I a vampire in my supposed past life?”

  He winced. “Yes.”

  “And I died?”

  He turned away and crossed his arms. “Yes, because of me.”

  She edge away. What was it with her? Couldn’t she pick a safe man? She swallowed the bitterness burning in her gut. “You killed me.”

  He whirled around. “No, never.”

  A red teardrop ran down the side of his left cheek and Janus did nothing to brush it away. A blood tear? “When was this?”

  “Christmas. A hundred fifty years ago this very night.”

  “So, according to you, I was your vampire wife who died on Christmas a hundred fifty years ago?”

  He hung his head and his body slumped.

  She immediately regretted her sarcasm. He might be crazy, but he didn’t deserve to be humiliated. Hadn’t she learned where humiliation led her with Brandon?

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made fun of you.” She sat on the bed and grabbed a blanket to shield her nakedness. “How long have you been a vampire?”

  “Too long.” He closed his eyes. “Dawn is coming.”

  “You’re afraid of sunlight?”

  He peered open one eye. “Planning on killing me?”

  “No.” Through the balcony glass doors, gray and pink colors were painted across the sky. She tilted her head. “Sunlight kills you?”

  “Fledging vampires would burn up in the sun. I have a stronger tolerance, but I do get a blistering sun burn.”

  “Do you sleep in a coffin?”

  “No, but I do need sleep. The shadow sleep takes over and I appear dead.”

  “Dead?”

  “All except my mind. I can communicate or use my vampire powers if I need to. I can’t force you to stay, but I’m asking you to. Brandon will be even more dangerous since he’s not winning. Will you at least spend Christmas with me?”

  “Yes, I will,” she lied. She’d no intention of being a vampire or being a love slave to a vampire.

  He reached out his hand and not wanting to raise his suspicion, she took it. He laced his fingers through hers. “If you need me,” he kissed her hand, sending shivers from her head to her curling toes. “You can always call for me. I can find you anywhere.”

  “Why? How?”

  He hesitated. “Because I bit you.”

  She jerked her hand free. “You bastard.”

  “No, I didn’t mean to, Deirdre. I love you.”

  “Please. Brandon says he loves me. Try another line Romeo.”

  He struggled to get to stand. “I’ve got to get to my bed.”

  Fear running down her spine, she clasped his bicep and helped him.

  He gave her a grateful smile. “Thank you.” He closed his eyes. “I can’t keep my eyes open, Deirdre. Please stay. Don’t leave me.”

  “I promise I’ll stay.”

  He stretched out onto the bed nude and folded his hands over his stomach. He closed his eyes. She studied him and edged closer. His face paled. His once warm flesh tone changed as if a dark cloud shadowed his still body. She waited for his chest to move and strained to hear air exhale from his mouth, but only birds chirped outside.

  Temptations seized her and she couldn’t resist running her hand over his flesh. She fingered his dark hair gracing the stripped pillows. Not knowing why, she bent over and kissed his lips, hoping for a response, but they were stiff. She ran her hand over his face and it was cold, manikin stiff. Shit!

  “Merry Christmas,” she said.

  She quickly dressed in Janus’s soft red t-shirt, ignoring his sexy smell of sandalwood and put on the too long sweats, rolling up the legs again. His wallet was on the dresser loaded with two hundred dollars. Chil
ls of warning ran over her.

  She turned her head slowly, ready to be punished for defiance. Janus hadn’t opened his eyes and lay in the exact same position.

  “I’ll pay you back,” she whispered, hating herself. Could he hear her? She just slept with the man and now she was robbing him. Yeah, she was a real princess.

  Chapter Six

  Deirdre walked down the windy road to the main stretch of highway. She was a freaking fugitive, running from Brandon’s prison and escaping from Janus’s. She might as well be wearing an orange jumpsuit. Red, yellow and blue birds hopped on the branches of the Norfolk Pine and cawed. Even through the heavy pine branches and the shade of breadfruit trees, the sun beat down her. Perspiration trickled down her temple and she wiped her hair out of her face. Janus’s shirt stuck to her skin and she wished she’d grabbed a sleeveless muscle shirt. Her high heels crunched on the dirt road and kept getting stuck on the rolled up sweat pants. She stumbled and her foot bent the wrong way. She slammed onto the ground and dirt and small pebbles embedded into her palms and knees. Rocking back and forth, she held her throbbing ankle. “Damn it! Can this day get any worse?”

  She wiped the dirt off on her sweats, smearing brown smudges on the gray material. She rolled up the sleeves all the way to her shoulders and took the tails of her shirt and tied them into a knot. Blowing the hair out of her face, she forced herself to get up and limped down the road with her throbbing right ankle. This sucked.

  Deirdre, where are you going? Janus’ voice echoed in her head.

  Deirdre whipped her head around, but only a deserted road and a lush jungle were behind her.

  “Where are you? How are you contacting me?”

  Telepathy. I can read your mind and you can contact me.

  “Crap. Stay out of my damn head.”

  You promised to stay.

  “Leave me alone.”

  She wobbled down the road. Had he been inside in her head? Could he find her? Shit, she was so screwed.

  Up ahead, the crunch of tires crept up the road and Deirdre hurried toward the tires. A black Mercedes rolled toward her. She froze.

  “Shit!” She half-limped, half-ran into the jungle and hid behind a palm tree, sliding down to the base of it. Agony thumped in her ankle and she bit her lip to keep from crying out. She rubbed her ankle and winced. It was swelling and she didn’t know how she’d be able to walk on it.

  The sedan stopped and a car door opened. “Deirdre, you can’t escape me,” Brandon said. “Come here.”

  She was a wounded animal being tracked by a ruthless hunter. Deirdre removed her heels and hobbled deeper into the foliage barefoot. Leaves slapped her face and rocks jammed and scratched her feet. She forced herself to keep moving. Her ankle twisted and she seized a vine and clutched it. Her fingers slipped down the wet vine. Footsteps trampled behind her. She grabbed another vine, clutching it tighter and hopped.

  Angry footsteps followed her. “Deirdre,” Brandon yelled. “Don’t make me come in there after you.”

  Her heart pounding, she hopped into the dense vegetation, not looking back, hoping she could hide. Each time she bounced, her ankle screamed in protest. Don’t stop. Keep going.

  She glanced over her shoulder. Branches moved, but she couldn’t see Brandon.

  Water trickled onto her feet. The terrain changed to a muddy bog and her feet sank into the black goo. Flies and gnats buzzed around her face. The scent of wet leaves and rotting foliage permeated the air. Ahead the trees parted. The sun peeked through, blazing hot. There wasn’t much to hold onto but tall ferns. Behind her a twig broke.

  Move. Move. Move.

  She lifted her foot and edged forward. She put weight on her weak ankle and it slipped and twisted in the wet slime. Mud splashed onto her face and soaked through her sweats. Pain nearly blinded her, but she crawled through the thick mess.

  “Deirdre, I can hear you.” The footsteps were getting closer and closer and closer. “You’re going to make it worse for you.”

  Tears threatening to fall down onto her hot cheeks, Deirdre crawled on her hands and knees to a fallen log, half emerged in the muck and slunk behind it.

  Please go away. Go away.

  The footsteps stopped. “I know you’re here.”

  She held her breath and pressed her body into the sludge. If he’d kept going into the forest, she could go the opposite way and find help.

  A long shadow crossed over her body. Twigs crunched.

  “I see you.”

  A hand sailed over the log and snagged her arm, dragging her off the jungle floor. Brandon hauled her to his chest. His eyes blazed with hate. “You’ve been a bad, bad, little girl.”

  She pounded on his gorilla hand. “Help! Someone help me.”

  He laughed. “Cry all you want little girl.” He shook her and she bit her tongue. Blood slipped into her mouth.

  “No one can hear you.”

  She screamed louder.

  He whipped out a revolver from behind his back and held it under her throat. “Scream one more time and you’re dead.”

  Chills running over her damp skin, she was too terrified to cry out. He maneuvered and half lifted her off the path, securing his arm around her waist. She wanted to scratch his eyes out, but didn’t dare. Where had he gotten the gun? He hauled her back to his sedan and tossed her into the passenger seat. “Get out of the seat.” He waved the pistol in her face. “And I’ll blow your brains out.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered.

  He stuffed the gun into his door panel. “Good, girl.”

  She lowered her head and stared at her clutched muddy fists. A tear drop splashed onto her shaking hand, smearing the mud and she drew in a weary breath. Shit, don’t panic. God, he could kill her. Really kill her.

  She should have stayed with Janus. Even a vampire would be safer than Brandon.

  Deirdre, I feel your fear. No matter what he does to you, stay alive. I’ll find you. I promise. I have to wait until noon to leave my condo. The sun’s rays wan after twelve o’clock. Trust me.

  His voice washed comfort over her and she wanted to believe he’d come. What if he was wrong? What if he couldn’t find her? She’d have to find a way to survive.

  She lifted her head. Brandon turned the sedan and headed back down the road. “Look at you. You look like you lost at a mud pie eating contest and getting filth all over my seat.”

  He was trying to intimidate her and she refused to give him the satisfaction that she was terrified. Out the window, surfers rode the waves washing up on to shore. People laid on towels and sat on beach chairs relaxing on their Christmas vacation. She wanted to be one of those carefree souls, playing in the sea, laughing.

  “Where are we going?”

  Brandon slammed the steering wheel. “Just shut your trap.”

  Deirdre’s fingers fumbled over the door handle. Brandon had locked the door, but she could easily unlock it. She needed time to think of a plan. Running was out of the question with her throbbing ankle. What, when or where she had no idea. She had to make it work because she’d never get another opportunity. Brandon would see to it.

  Her right ankle throbbed and she either had a hairline fracture or a bad sprain. Not that Brandon would care.

  Brandon stopped at a red light. A guy on a motorcycle pulled up on the side of them. This was it. She unlocked the door and threw it open. The door almost hit the motorcycle.

  “Hey watch it!” A young guy growled. “You almost hit my bike.”

  “Deirdre!” He reached over and snagged her shirt. She was slammed back onto the seat.

  “Help me,” she cried.

  Brandon snatched the revolver and pressed it into her side. “That wasn’t very smart.”

  She panted and grimaced as the tip of the gun pressed into her flesh. Would he really shoot her?

  “You’ll be dead before he can help you.”

  He cocked the trigger.

  Fear gripped her. She swallowed back th
e acid slowly sliding up her throat. Yes, he would.

  The man tapped on the window and motioned for her to roll down the window.

  Deirdre nodded. She pressed the electric window opener.

  “Is there a problem?”

  “No,” she lied.

  He took off his sunglasses. “What happened to your face?”

  Brandon leaned across her. “We were hiking and she fell and landed in a muddy bog.”

  She glared at Brandon, but the warning look he gave her, chilled her blood.

  “Is that true miss?”

  Brandon squeezed her thigh hard and she winced.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  She gave a small smile to the man. “Yes, I’m a klutz.”

  Brandon waved. “Merry Christmas, buddy.”

  The motorcycle pulled away and Deirdre slumped.

  Brandon pulled the sedan to the side of the road. He ripped off his tie and bound her wrists. “Try anything like that again,“ he pinched her cheek hard, “and I’ll lock you in the trunk. Understand?”

  She twisted her head away. “Yes.”

  He patted her thigh. “Good.”

  Deirdre rested her head on the leather seat. She was a prisoner, a hostage. No one would know where Brandon had taken her. No one knew she was here. No one would come looking for her.

  I’ll come for you. Stay alive.

  Deirdre leaned her forehead against the coolness of the car window. “Brandon, where are we going?”

  “Some place different. Some place where we can be alone.”

  “Our hotel wasn’t alone enough?”

  “You’ll like where were going. It’s quiet, secluded.”

  “I doubt it,” she muttered.

  She hoped she’d find the nerve to try and make another escape.

  She rubbed her palms together and tingles crept down to her fingers and up her arm. “Brandon, could you loosen the bindings around my wrist?”