The Bite Before Christmas

by Laura Baumbach, Sedonia Guillone, Kit Tunstall

  I went down a back staircase. It’s friggin’ dark in here.

  Chris went down the stairs to the living room. Stay where you are. I’m coming for you. He crossed the large, airy room, warmed by the lights twinkling on the large ribbon-and-light-decorated Scotch pine in the corner, and headed for the obsolete servants’ staircase in the hallway. In a tiny alcove off the hall, he opened a door, revealing Jesse, standing there in all his glorious nudity, staring at him, his knife gripped in one hand.

  Chris had to force himself not to stare at the smooth olive skin hugging the terrain of lithe muscles as he held the robe out for Jesse. Remorse gripped him again. “Jesse, I’m so sorry.”

  Jesse blinked, the pupils of his large dark eyes shrinking from the intrusion of light. He stepped forward, pushing one arm into the sleeve of the robe. “Your hair.” His voice held both wonder and disappointment.

  With his hands on Jesse’s arms, Chris turned him gently, taking the knife from his hand and helping him into the robe. Jesse was pliant under his touch, obviously relieved his lover hadn’t been murdered. Chris closed the robe, loosely belting it. When he’d finished, one hand went to his closely shorn scalp. He’d needed to cut off his hair for the fake head. Apparently, he’d done a good job, and in record time. “It’ll grow back,” he murmured, reaching for Jesse and pulling him gently into an embrace.

  Jesse’s lips pressed into the crook of his neck, his hands resting lightly on Chris’s back, over his baggy shirt. “I thought I’d lost you.” Jesse’s breath was warm on Chris’s skin.

  “Please forgive me,” Chris said in a near-whisper. Finally he released Jesse and began to lead him toward the living room. “I’d only meant to be gone for a minute to bring you your food. I was going to show you the mold then.”

  “It’s all right.”

  Chris led Jesse to the sofa in the living room, a wide, deep piece of furniture with plenty of cushions and pillows. He arranged Jesse amidst the pillows and then built a fire in that hearth. Leaving him alone again only long enough to retrieve the tray of food, he served it to him and then sat next to him when he’d finished eating, cuddling him close. They had a little bit of time until Lascaux arrived and Chris wanted to make the most of it.

  Jesse leaned forward to set down his coffee cup. When he leaned back, the belt of the robe had come loose and the sides of the robe fell open a bit, revealing a large portion of Jesse’s leanly sculpted chest. Chris leaned into him, brushing their lips together, one hand reaching under the robe and lightly caressing his lover’s chest, the silky dusting of ebony hair brushing pleasantly against his fingertips.

  Jesse moaned softly into his mouth and responded to the caresses with the slide of his tongue against Chris’s. Chris could taste Jesse’s musky flavor mingled with the coffee he’d drunk. Softly, he pulled his mouth from their kiss and looked into Jesse’s heavy-lidded gaze. “You’re all recovered now? I mean, from the lead?”

  Jesse nodded, his full lips slightly parted, his lips glistening from their kisses. “Yes, and from the shock of seeing that head.” His tone was light, communicating to Chris that he shouldn’t feel guilty.

  Jesse’s hand came up and caressed the bristle of what had just hours before been a mane of golden hair. “Your hair ... was so beautiful.”

  Chris brushed a soft kiss across Jesse’s lips and grinned at him. “I promise you it’ll grow back, mon amour. Hair and nails never stop growing, even on a vamp.” His insides lit up when Jesse smiled. His Roman lover had the most captivating smile he’d ever seen, more intoxicating because of the contrast between his smile and his usual heavy, dark expression of burden.

  “It would be okay even if it didn’t,” Jesse said. “You’re magnificent either way.” He sat back slightly, the robe coming loose with the small movement, revealing his beautiful torso. A strange look came into his eyes, the dark irises brimming with what looked like emotional pain and sorrow. “Chris.” His voice came out in a hoarse whisper.

  The sound rippled through Chris’s chest, touching him deep inside. “What is it, Jess?”

  A sheepish look stole into those magnificent eyes, large and sweet and softly dark, like a doe’s eyes. I ... I ... mustn’t ever ... lose you.

  He’d spoken through their mind link, as if a heartfelt confession were more easily made without sound.

  Chris looked at him, his insides leaping. There was no other appropriate inner response to such a confession of love. Except for ...

  He reached out, pulling Jesse to him. The robe slipped off almost completely, stopped only by Chris’s hands on Jesse’s arms. He caught a flash of Jesse’s rising erection, jutting in a delicious curve from his leanly muscled body, the plump head stretching from its sheath. Next he saw Jesse’s full lips and captured them.

  Jesse sighed and surrendered, his chest sinking against Christian’s, the friction massaging Chris’s nipples through his soft white shirt. His hands slipped around to Jesse’s back, the lithe muscles warm and flexing under his hands.

  Jesse returned his kisses with open-mouthed fervor, suckling Chris’s tongue, his hands on Chris’s cheeks, cupping them reverently. Passion uncoiled in the delicious slide of his tongue against his lover’s.

  Chris slid his hand down the hard, delicious muscles of his lover’s back, coming to rest on one firm, round buttock.

  Jesse moaned softly into his mouth and shifted closer, his hard cock brushing the front of Chris’s trousers.

  Chris inched his fingers over Jesse’s ass, heading toward the crevice between the two firm globes.

  Jesse moaned again, rubbing his throbbing erection against Chris’s front, the movements growing more demanding, hungrier.

  Christian, my dear, I hope you’re decent. I’m almost to your front door.

  Chris’s hand froze. Lascaux. Gently he pulled his mouth from Jesse’s and slid his hand away from the enticing body. He reached for the robe and held it up.

  Jesse frowned. His chest was heaving from arousal. “What’s the matter?”

  Chris managed a smile, his body still coursing with heat despite the interruption. “Nothing, Jess. I just don’t want you to be naked when Lascaux gets here.”

  Jesse fathomless eyes widened under their heavy fringes of dark lashes. “He’s here?”

  Chris nodded, holding the robe so Jesse could slip his arms into the sleeves. He closed it up in front, mournful at having to cover Jesse’s incredible body. “Yes. He informed me just now.”

  Jesse nodded, looking down. “Your mind link.”

  Chris heard the tinge of jealous worry in his lover’s voice. The sound made his heart squeeze and he reached out to cup Jesse’s cheek. “Yes, every protégé has one with his sire. It’s unavoidable.” He brushed his thumb across the smooth cheek still soft from having been shaved. “I love you, Jesse.”

  Jesse’s gaze shot up. Relief flooded those enchanting eyes. I love you, too. He looked at Chris a moment longer, then moved off his lap, his hands going to the belt of the robe to tighten it.

  Just then, the doorbell rang.

  * * * * *

  Jesse watched Chris open the door, trapped between terror and fascination. There was something about meeting the vampire who’d sired his soul mate that compelled him.

  Chris opened the front door, revealing three figures, all male. Though they were strangers to him, Jesse knew Lascaux in an instant. He’d never seen the vampire before, but the absolute masculinity that radiated from Chris’s sire was unmistakable. Swarthy skin, raven hair swept back off a high forehead, piercing eyes and aristocratic Semitic features characterized the world’s first vampire, his radiant beauty enhanced by the sleek black clothing he wore.

  Lascaux’s obsidian gaze lit on his protégé and the piercing quality of his dark eyes softened noticeably. “Chris,” he said, his voice surprisingly soft. He held out a large masculine hand.

  Jesse watched Chris accept the handshake, noticing Lascaux’s forbearance with him. Lascaux struck Jesse as someone who kisse
d or hugged those whom he loved, but in this case, he seemed respectfully distant.

  “It’s wonderful to see you, Valmont.” The tone of mutual respect and admiration reflected in Chris’s voice. “Thank you for coming on such short notice.”

  A smile curved Lascaux’s masculine lips. He ended the handshake and reached up, giving Chris’s cheek a couple of affectionate pats. “As long as I’m not locked in a dungeon, I’ll be there for you.”

  Chris’s eyes went momentarily stricken and Jesse remembered the story he’d relayed earlier about Lascaux’s centuries’-long imprisonment and torture in his own home. Guilt assailed Jesse for having ever been a slayer, in spite of the fact that his targets had not been ... upright, like the vampires he was meeting now.

  Chris ushered Lascaux and his companions out of the cold and into the foyer, offering to take their coats.

  Jesse remained standing where he was by the fire, overcome with sudden, painful timidity. After all, he’d originally come to Chris with the intention of killing him. No doubt, Chris’s sire would have something to say about that.

  The eyes of all three guests turned on him in that moment and his heart thumped. Lascaux moved toward him, flanked by his companions. The other two men, though not as commanding in presence as Lascaux, were no less gorgeous. One had ebony hair cut close to the scalp and startlingly blue almond shaped eyes, accentuated by high smooth cheekbones and full lips. He looked Russian, while the third man, blond and green eyed with tumbling curls surrounding his face, an unusual combination of pretty and rugged, appeared Nordic like his own lover.

  Lascaux came to stand in front of Jesse, his eyes remaining softer, less piercing. The other two men, presumably vampires, stood close behind him, also studying him.

  “Chris has already told me who you are.” A hand, also surprisingly gentle, came to rest on his shoulder, sending heat radiating into his shoulder. Immediately Jesse could see how Lascaux could at once terrify and enchant someone. “Don’t worry about the reason you’re here to begin with. Chris has already pleaded your case and you come up innocent.”

  Jesse could barely suppress his sigh of relief.

  “I hope you’re fully recovered because we must get going as soon as you are.”

  Jesse stared at him a moment, blinking. In a mere few days, his world had gone from solitary and loveless to having found his soul mate and along with him, several other beings, and vampires at that, willing to help him rather than wanting to kill him or to kill for them.

  Apparently, Lascaux understood what Jesse was feeling. An understanding light glowed in the obsidian depths of his eyes and he nodded. “Yes,” he murmured, “Chris is for real.” He gestured with a nod of his head to the men standing behind him, then turned, taking the dark-haired Russian by one arm. “Serge here has taught me the meaning of the word love. For my entire captivity, over six hundred years, he waited for an opportunity to free me.” He released Serge with a rub of his hand on the other vampire’s sleeve.

  Lascaux pointed to the blond. “And this is Philippe. He’s a hybrid vamp like Chris. He, too, knows what it means to love.” Philippe and Serge each shook Jesse’s hand before stepping back at Lascaux’s sides.

  Lascaux’s gaze went to Chris, who, Jesse realized in that moment, had come to stand close at Jesse’s side. “Christian, do you have the mold?”

  Chris nodded and Jesse sensed his sheepishness, remembering Jesse’s introduction to the fake head. “I’ll bring it down.”

  “Yes, along with some clothing for your friend. We’ll leave momentarily. We can make our plan en route.”

  Chris bowed his head, the gesture emanating respect for his sire, and then left without another word.

  “Please ... sit.” Jesse finally found his voice and indicated the sofa facing the one he’d sat on with Chris.

  “Thank you.” Lascaux seated himself along with Serge and Philippe. Jesse watched them, noticing the reverent gaze which Serge kept on him. Philippe, he noted, watched Serge in the same manner.

  Hmm. The three vampires seemed to form a complex love triangle of some sort.

  Only moments later, Chris reappeared bearing the tray with the dreaded model on it and some clothing hanging over his arm. He set the tray down on the stone coffee table between the two sofas and sank onto the cushions beside Jesse.

  “Go ahead,” Lascaux urged. “Unveil the thing.”

  Chris leaned forward and slid the cloth away, revealing the likeness to his own head.

  In spite of the fact Jesse now knew it was a fake, he still flinched. He couldn’t help glancing at Lascaux to see his reaction.

  The magnificent vampire stared at the model, his obsidian gaze taking it in appraisingly. Slowly he nodded. “You do amazing work, Chris. I daresay even Noiret, that piece of shit, will be fooled.”

  Lascaux must have registered Jesse’s surprise, for the raven-hued irises lit on his face and the vampire’s swarthy face creased in a smile. “Perhaps you’re noticing that your vampire kith are as varied in temperament and nature as anyone else.”

  The subtle reprimand was not lost on Jesse. Of course, even though Lascaux didn’t judge him for the past, as Chris’s sire and protector, he would be compelled to convey some small measure of defense.

  Jesse bowed his head and nodded. “Yes, I’m seeing that.”

  In the next moment, he felt Chris’s hand, warm and comforting, slide across his back and rest there.

  “Alors,” Lascaux continued, “Jesse here will present this model to Noiret and then? Knowing that bastard, we must pray that he hasn’t already killed Jesse’s sister.”

  Jesse’s gaze shot up to the vampire, blood coursing suddenly icy through his veins. “Hannah is alive!” Aren’t you? He focused inwardly, as hard as he ever had done, calling his sister.

  I’m here, Jesse. When are you coming?

  Jesse breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Today.

  Please hurry.

  Hannah, hang on. We’re coming.

  We?

  I’ll explain later.

  Please, Jess, hurry!

  Jesse looked at Lascaux. “She’s alive. She’s begging me to hurry.”

  Lascaux nodded and looked down. The air in the room grew still with his seeming concentration.

  What’s he doing? Jesse asked Chris through their mind link.

  Chris’s hand pressed comfortingly against his back. Probably accessing his mind link to Noiret.

  Jesse nearly jumped from the seat. He has a mind link with Noiret?

  Chris looked at him and nodded. He sired him.

  Lascaux cleared his throat, the sound compelling Jesse to look up at him. “So far, he hasn’t moved her. He doesn’t know we’re coming. We’ll leave as soon as you get dressed.”

  Jesse continued to stare at Lascaux.

  To his surprise, a pained look crossed the vampire’s features. “Yes, I sired Noiret. Another of my many grievous mistakes. Finally I’m getting a chance to undo it.” He looked at Chris. “Second chances happen quite often to me, it seems, whether I deserve them or not.”

  Chris looked at his sire, his gaze full of admiration. “They’re second chances because you take them.”

  Lascaux studied Chris’s face a moment before a sad smile crossed his face. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  “Jesse, here.” Chris handed Jesse a shirt and trousers. “They’ll no doubt be a bit big so I’ve included a belt.”

  Jesse accepted the clothing, wishing this were all over and Hannah were rescued so that he and Chris could just curl up together in bed and make love day and night. “Thank you.”

  Chris reached to his pocket and pulled something out, holding it to him. Jesse glimpsed the glint of the firelight off the blade of a knife. His slaying knife.

  Chris’s handsome face darkened. “You’ll need it, no doubt.”

  Jesse nodded, wordlessly accepting the weapon from his lover. The irony of the moment was not lost on him. “Thank you,” he managed to say, feeling the gazes of
the other three vampires on him.

  Chris looked down at him, his blue eyes radiating affection. Never before had Jesse been the object of such a gaze and he had to fight down the urge to lean forward and press his cheek to his lover’s chest and stay there. Had Lascaux and his entourage not been standing a few feet away, he would have done just that.

  “There’s a bathroom right off the hallway,” Chris murmured.

  Jesse nodded and went quickly out, avoiding the other gazes on him. He dressed in a few seconds and sheathed his knife in the belt at his back.

  When he went out into the hallway, the four vampires stood by the front door, waiting. He approached them, his eyes on Chris.

  “Come on,” he said, “Let’s get my sister.”

  Chapter Ten

  Lascaux’s private jet had them in New York in under an hour. Another thirty-minute cab ride brought Jesse and the vampires to Noiret’s club and left them off a block away.

  The street was dark, the buildings lining the sidewalks factories closed for the night. Bass-driven music from Noiret’s rave-style warehouse club vibrated in the ground beneath them and in the freezing cold, people were going in and out of the front entrance.

  Jesse’s heart pounded. His hand tightened on the sack containing the model of Chris’s head. Chris’s hand rested on his arm as they walked, pressing harder through the shearling coat he’d given Jesse to wear. Chris and Philippe were to find Hannah and free her in the event that Noiret went back on the deal after obtaining the head.

  Around the corner from the club entrance, they stopped. Chris turned to him, his handsome face creased with a serious expression.

  We’re going to do this, Jesse. Chris’s voice through their mind link echoed pleasantly through Jesse’s body. But whatever happens, I love you.

  Jesse fought back a rising tide of panic. I love you too.

  Chris squeezed his arm and then at Lascaux’s gesture, released him. Jesse watched him and Philippe turn and glide into the air, up to the roof of the building.

  “They’ll find her. Don’t worry.”

  Lascaux’s voice made Jesse turn. The vampire was watching him. “Serge and I will be close behind you and will join you as soon as we take care of Noiret’s entourage. That’s a promise.”