“Which means he knew how strongly you felt about me to begin with,” he said softly.
That was an understatement.
Cullen passed his hand through a virtual reality version of an angel that flew by. “So in the end you didn’t have sex with him, broke it off and he trapped you here?”
“Yeah, pretty much. That’s when I slowly became what I guess they call a yuletide witch. Someone who practices the old ways but has come to appreciate God and his Christian holiday just as much.”
“Interesting.” He eyed her. “So do you worship God now?”
“I guess I appreciate all the gods, including yours.” Treasa chuckled. “As to worshipping anything, it’s mostly been Santa, elves, reindeers, and everything else that goes along with the holidays.” A small smile hovered on her lips. “Watching all the happy kids over the years hasn’t been so bad either.”
“Ah, the bairns.” He reeled her in closer as they strolled. “You were always partial to them.”
Treasa worked at a heavy swallow, refusing to allow old emotions to surface. “I seem to remember that you were too.”
They had talked about having at least four children, two boys, and two girls. Maybe even twins if they were lucky.
“It’s never too late,” he murmured.
“For us it is.” She put more distance between them. “Seriously, if I even survive this curse, where will I go? Where will you end up?”
“I’m stuck in this era.” He pulled her closer again. “But I’ll find a way to follow you no matter where you end up.”
Not interested in getting too serious, she said, “A fallen angel turned warlock and a yuletide witch with no home. Sounds like a match made in an amusement park funhouse.”
“I’m surprised you know what one of those is.”
“I’ve spent almost forty years listening to children. It was bound to happen.”
“I say we skip the funhouse, hop on my motorcycle and see where Fate takes us.”
“I could think of worse things.” Her eyes roamed over his large body. “But I think I’d want my own bike. More space.”
His lip quirked as he eyed her dress. “We’d need to change your outfit.”
“Now would be better than later.”
“Och, nay.” He grinned. “Just a wee bit more of my thirteenth-century lass first, aye?”
“Memories won’t do either of us much good anymore,” she said. “And don’t think for a second this dress’ll give you the easy access you hoped for.”
He repeated his previous words. “We’ll see.”
If they had to flee to the final building of safety here, he would definitely see far more than she hoped. Yet another reason to lose this dress. Her eyes again discreetly roamed down his body. That was another thing they had no issue doing before getting married.
Lying together.
Despite how perilous the times, they saw no reason to wait. Either of them could be killed the next day. Or so they told themselves. In truth, they couldn’t keep their hands off one another. Even as she thought about it, arousal flared. He had been her first and last. The idea of making love to him again made her pulse race.
The way he knew exactly where to touch her.
The way she knew exactly where to touch him.
The way…
“Treasa, are you still with me?”
“Verra much so.”
She shook her head. Damn medieval brogue was a giveaway if ever there was one.
Cullen chuckled, his tone far too knowing. “So it seems.”
“I’m allowed to speak my native tongue on occasion,” she defended.
“Aye.” He squeezed her hand, fanning the flames of her arousal. “We’re Scottish above all else.”
“That we are,” she said softly.
He pulled her against him so fast there was no chance to evade. His eyes flashed a brilliant blue as he wrapped his hand behind her neck, forcing her to hold his gaze.
“And we always will be,” he murmured. “Here or there.”
“Even when we ride our bikes into the sunset,” she said without thinking.
“Aye,” he whispered. “Our own sunset with our own destination.”
If he kissed her again, she was done for. It was too dark and far too romantic in here. The lip-lock he dished out earlier had left her knees weak and breath shallow. There might be dozens of angels staring down, but she only had eyes for one of their fallen.
Cullen.
When his lips came close, hovering centimeters from hers, it felt like before. As if all the long years fell away. They were in the Highlands again. Eager for the touch, taste, and feel of each other. Eager to satisfy this unquenchable need.
“Don’t,” she whispered, her lips trembling against his.
His free hand slid down her back until he cupped her ass. “Do you remember what it felt like between us?”
Every. Last. Second. “It was a long time ago.”
“It’s right now.” He pulled her so tightly against him there was no mistaking his thick erection. “And every day forward.”
Her eyes slid shut and she murmured useless, deterring words. “I don’t know how to ride a motorcycle.”
“You’re a witch.” He smiled against her lips. “Watch how fast you pick it up.”
Up. The only word she could focus on as she shifted against the part of him that was so very much up. “You give me too much credit.”
“No.” He kissed her softly. “I don’t think I gave you enough credit when I should’ve.”
Treasa cursed the tear that rolled down her cheek. She stopped shedding them the day he left. Hand against his chest, she kept her eyes closed, immersed in the feel of his breath mingling with hers. “I’m not angry anymore.”
“I know.” He brushed his lips over hers again. “But I am. At myself.”
About to say she forgave him, she froze when a tapping sound echoed through the building. They pulled apart, their eyes sweeping over the windows.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Crack.
Her eyes widened when the glass splintered. “Ghost!”
Back in the form of a Christmas tree bulb, it bounced one more time before the glass shattered and it shot into the building. Gop, right behind and nearly three feet tall now, dove through the opening. He somersaulted twice before he came to his feet and scowled at them. “We need to get you out of here. Now!”
“What’s going on?”
Ghost grabbed a strand of her hair with a tree hook and started yanking her in the opposite direction. “You have a really nasty ex-boyfriend is what’s going on BFF.”
Cullen frowned at her. “BFF?”
“Shoot, how long have you been in the twenty-first century? Best Friends Forever.” She unhooked Ghost and nodded at the hovering bulb. “Lead the way.”
No sooner did she say it than all the windows imploded and the Angel of Death swirled in on a tornado of snow.
“Shoot, he’s grown far stronger if he got in here,” Treasa said, tracing pentacles in the air as Death dove after her.
Cullen flicked his wrist and the angels and cherubs fell. This created a momentary distraction as they raced after Ghost and Gop, who were heading out of the building. There was no place to go but uphill as the late day storm obscured their vision. Only one safe haven remained and they had to get there as fast as possible.
Cullen swung onto one of the administrator’s snowmobiles. His quick thinking might mean she’d live a few minutes longer. Midnight might be the sweet hour, but her ex looked mad as hell and more than willing to snub short the deadline if he could.
She hiked up her dress and swung onto the back. “Go!”
“Already gone,” Cullen muttered, pushing the machine so hard that snow spat up behind them, twisting within the fury of Death’s creepy snowstorm manifestation. All they could do was follow Ghost as it shone red through the dusk. A tiny beacon.
Just like Rudolph leading Santa.
The engine strained as Death
used the wind to his advantage and pushed against them. Treasa wrapped her arms around Cullen’s waist and pressed her face against his back when her ex’s chilled hands slid down her thighs. Huge black wings made of ice and snow flapped around her.
“I think the fuck not,” Cullen growled. “Hold on tight, lass.”
When he cut a hard right, Death’s grip fell away. But she knew it wouldn’t last. Lit with multi-colored Christmas lights, trees flew by as Cullen banked a sharp left and flew down a side path.
“You need to keep following Ghost,” she yelled.
“I am,” he said.
It was then that she realized Ghost was cruising overhead and Cullen was finding ways to keep up. Her Highlander knew this place well despite the short amount of time he had been here.
Right. Left. In. Out. He weaved the machine so quickly that Death scrambled. Potential disaster around every corner didn’t faze Cullen any more than a dozen warriors rushing him did centuries before. He was in official ‘protect’ mode. Screeching the machine into a fishtail around a particularly sharp corner, he began chanting.
Icicles started falling behind them, joining in with the snowy dust storm they were kicking up. Treasa peeked over her shoulder. Furious, her ex zig-zagged through the maelstrom, wings struggling against the ice pinging off of him. You had to love a bit of warlock magic even if it barely slowed the angel.
Treasa’s eyes widened when they whizzed by…herself? Holy hell. Naked leg in a seductive position, ‘she’ eyed Death with lust.
Ghost?
Oh yeah, it was the Ghost of Christmas Present manifested as what her ex wanted most for Christmas. Her. Nude apparently. Eww. But hey, it bought them time. Ghost had just officially earned BFF status.
“Bloody hell,” Cullen said, obviously as taken by her visage as the Angel of Death, who faltered and skidded to a brief halt.
“Later,” she assured, trying to keep his focus on escaping. Who cared if it sounded like she intended to get naked for him.
“Later it is.” Cullen gunned the engine with renewed ambition. “And I plan on holding you to that.”
Chapter Seven
“ALL RIGHT, LET’S see what you’ve got,” Cullen growled under his breath at Death before he warned Treasa to keep her head down. They were heading straight toward a gigantic building. Thanks to a quick chant, its barnlike doors opened a tad easier when they crashed through. As he intended, splinters flew everywhere. Anything to slow the angel down.
They cruised along a path weaving through a life-sized Colonial era Christmas village. Good thing this had been built for a horse-drawn sleigh. The ground was covered with man-made snow.
“Here we come a-caroling!” sung tall wax figures, done up in winter gear as they stood in front of candle-lit windows. They even held plates of what he suspected were real cookies.
He and Treasa had just screamed by what looked to be the village’s town hall when a furious roar echoed behind them. Cullen nodded at the massive Christmas tree ahead. “Ready to help me make some bulbs fly, lass?”
“You bet your arse,” she said. “Burn ’em and whip ’em?”
He grinned. They always did think alike. “Yup.”
Though they called on different types of magic, her chants met his. Seconds after they whirred past the tree, all of the bulbs flew off, burst into flames and started whipping at Death. No longer made entirely of snow, ice and wind, her ex’s body became more and more solid the closer they got to midnight. Unlike the onslaught of icicles before, he slowed considerably under the barrage of fireballs. Cullen glanced over his shoulder. Death’s wings smoked as he worked at dousing the flames.
“Chestnuts roasting on an open fire!” blared through the loudspeakers when Death caught a fireball to the groin. He had just snuffed it out when Ghost rolled into the building so quickly it became a huge snowball that hovered then smashed off the angel’s face, giving him a solid whitewash. Free of the snow, Ghost continued singing, “Jack Frost nipping at your nose!”
Treasa chuckled even as Death became more furious. “Ghost is definitely rockin’ it.”
“God give me strength,” Cullen prayed as they flew past another version of Treasa.
Not Ghost this time but Gop.
“Looks like I might be seeing myself as something other than a sad teenager now,” Treasa said.
He almost said to hell with Death, stopped the snowmobile and slaked his lust. With her, of course. Not Gop.
This time ‘Treasa’ wore a dress hiked up so high that it offered a fine view of her shapely legs as she straddled a low fence. The look she gave Death was nothing less than come-hither. No decent, God-fearing colonial era wax figure should be witnessing the way she sucked on a thick candy cane like that.
“I dunno,” Cullen said. “I think Gop might have Ghost beat.”
Death was no fool, though. The angel would not be tricked twice. He would, however, end up smacking directly into the huge Christmas tree when he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
Not sticking around to enjoy the show, Cullen crashed the snowmobile through the exit doors and raced up a hill so fast they became airborne when they whizzed over its crest.
Ghost, back to being a little red beacon of hope, led the way.
Even in the short time they fled Death, the day had progressed. Night had fallen. He frowned when Ghost vanished into the trees ahead.
“Keep following him,” Treasa said as Death released another mighty roar and burst out of the building behind them.
“There’s nothing but trees.”
“No, there’s a path,” she replied. “Trust Ghost. Trust me.”
He would always trust her. As to Ghost? Things were looking up for the annoying entity. So he kept the snowmobile at full throttle and raced toward a wall of trees. Never a coward, he set his jaw and barreled them in the direction of what appeared to be certain death. Then again, certain Death was right behind them so why not?
“Just watch,” Treasa murmured in his ear.
“Not much choice in the matter.”
Close. Closer. Almost there. Then he realized what she meant when a sliver of woodline shimmered and warped. The sound of blasphemous rage boomed as Death seemed to catch up and swoop down on them.
But something happened.
Changed.
The air chilled then grew warmer. A suctioning sensation made the pressure drop before a loud thwap sounded and they were thrust forward. The engine died and they slid to a stop. Cullen immediately turned to start throwing magic at Death, but he was gone.
Simply vanished.
“He can’t get us here,” Treasa said.
Heart still hammering, Cullen’s eyes fell to hers. “How can you be so sure?”
Treasa hesitated for a moment, eyes searching his, before she said, “Because Grant MacLomain created this place from my memories. A place I could visit when I became too lonely. It’s a snow globe of sorts.”
“The last building Grant had a hand in creating didn’t hold back Death for long,” he said.
“This one will,” she guaranteed softly. “Its magic is too tied to the past. Too tied to us.”
He held her gaze before he turned and took in their surroundings. His heart caught in his throat when he realized where they were. “I dinnae ken.”
“Of course you understand,” she murmured, getting off the snowmobile.
Despite a full moon hovering in the bluish black sky, snow fell softly in a clearing he never thought he would see again. “Have we traveled back in time?” he whispered. “Are we in Scotland?”
“No.” She took his hand. “Like I said, this place is built from my memories.”
Cullen swung off the snowmobile but never let go of her hand. To see her in this place made everything that had happened since then fade away.
“Do you remember all the firsts we shared here?” she said as they walked.
“Aye, of course I do.” He took in the trees’ snowy branches. “This is where I told y
ou I loved you for the first time.”
“And I told you the same,” she whispered. Yet it seemed she wanted to steer clear of further talk of that for now. “It was also the first time you told me you were a wizard.”
“And the first time you told me you were a witch. Things we’d figured out about each other long before that,” he reminded.
“True.” A soft smile came to her full lips. “But we were still so nervous when we said it out loud.”
“You might’ve been,” he scoffed. “Wizards don’t get nervous.”
“From being a wizard to a warlock. That’s something.” She slanted a look at him. “But right now I’m more interested in the angel.”
Cullen tensed. Not so sure he wanted to tarnish this place with anything that might upset her, he said, “Why don’t we talk about something else right now?”
“No.” She shook her head, stopped walking and faced him. “I understand all the reasons you left me and they were good…they were right. Now it’s time for me to better understand what happened afterward. The evil you embraced and God’s punishment for it.”
Cullen stilled, not entirely sure what she sought. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
“What did it feel like becoming evil?” she said so softly he barely caught it.
That was a loaded question, but he would try to give her a snippet of it. Anything to wipe away all that had come between them.
“Consuming, unavoidable, heart-wrenching despair. Devoid of love and compassion.” He shook his head and though he tried not to, the evil within liked to get a reaction out of people. “Powerful, incomparable, arousing, a seduction unlike any other.”
While he expected her eyes to widen, she didn’t bat a lash and her gaze never left his. “And when God clipped your wings?”
Cullen contemplated her question without showing all the emotion churning in his soul. “Much like embracing evil but a million times worse. Consuming, unavoidable, heart-wrenching despair. Like losing everything and everyone you love again and again for eternity but all at once. In a single moment.” He inhaled deeply before continuing. “And that feeling stays with me. My curse for turning my back on Him.”
Treasa’s eyes glistened and she bit her lower lip. Though tempted to deny her, he allowed her to push up his shirt. Then he leaned over enough that she could pull it over his head.
Alphas Unwrapped: 21 New Steamy Paranormal Tales of Shifters, Vampires, Werewolves, Dragons, Witches, Angels, Demons, Fey, and More Page 157
