“It’s getting late.” Tristan leaned against the doorway, still irritated with me. “We’d better head back soon.”
I looked back at Lennon. “I’ll be back first thing tomorrow night.”
“Give me a hug before you go,” she insisted. I had to admit, I was nervous. Women vampires were supposed to be programmed to tear each other apart. I put my arms around her, tense, but she gave me one of the tightest hugs I’d ever experienced, not knowing her strength, and a kiss on the cheek. Instinctively, I brought my hand up to my cheek to wipe away the lipstick mark she usually left.
Tristan took my hand on our way out the door. It might have been his way of apologizing for earlier, or just accepting my decision.
“You know, Blade didn’t do anything we haven’t done,” I said once we got in the car. “We’ve killed people, too.”
“I know.” Tristan looked straight ahead at the road.
“We don’t deserve to be buried alive.” Maybe we did. But I certainly didn’t want it to happen.
“No.” Tristan didn’t say anything else for a few minutes. “I get why you did what you did. I don’t agree with it, but I respect it.”
“You do?” I could live with that.
He pulled into the parking garage under the Alta Vista and didn’t answer my question until we got into the elevator.
“It’s what you said about me that drove it home.” He held on to both of my hands, but he looked out the window as we rose into the sky. “You’ve always seen the good in me when no one else has.”
“I don’t know how people can’t see it.” I sighed as I tossed my jacket over the back of the chair. “You’re impossible sometimes, but you’re not even close to a bad person. You just need a lot of attention.”
Tristan grabbed my ass. “I’d like some attention right now, but as I was saying, if you didn’t show up here when you did, honestly, I don’t know what would have happened. I was so fucked up, every night, and angry at everyone about what I was.”
“Like Blade.” I wrapped my arms around his neck.
“Exactly.” He kissed my neck. “You saved me, beautiful.”
My knees went weak, and I was thankful that we held on to each other.
“You saved me,” I said. “If I didn’t meet you, I’d be stuck on that island for the rest of my life. I’d have no idea about, well, anything.”
“So, I guess we were meant for each other.” He smiled down for me.
“I guess we are.” I went up on my tip toes to kiss him, but stopped just as my lips brushed against his. “And I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
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The Night Songs Collection continues in November 2014, with Silent Night. This story features new characters, and some you’re familiar with, in a different part of the same world. Keep reading for the Prologue.
Sneak Peek of
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 get nice and comfy in our new duds, 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 variation. Every year, I picked 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 them with the truth, which was I just didn't want to go. 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 intoduce 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 put a damper on 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 this day 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, and I bundled up good tonight, emptying the locker with my efforts. 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 towards 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 and loungewear to procrasinators.
"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 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 it’s 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 towards 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 damp mitten.
This was real. This was happening. This is what I wanted, but not like this. I insisted I wanted to be alone, but what 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 looked 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 my 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 loomed large. And Christmas still came, even though I had nothing to celebrate.
I pushed myself off the cold concrete wall and starting 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 Matt’s Little Helpers, 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 sober, to pick up the pieces.
Hopefully those bastards would be too busy spreading cheer with their families to attack anyone tonight.
Mulicolored shadows fell on the snow at the intersection. It didn't look like streetlights. Curious, I picked up my pace and headed towards 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 seeing the familiar songs. For the first time in five 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 brought the cold in with him. He smiled at me, one of those smiles that was warm and genuine and 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. This 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 disapointed. "I'm sorry. Maybe I thought you were someone else? I'm Aidan." He held out his hand to me, and I excepted 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 appreciated when people dressed up for special days. Had I planned to come here and had access to my dressy clothes, I would have dressed up tonight. Too many people in this building couldn’t be bothered with anything better than jeans and sweatshirts. I brought my eyes back up to his. He had watched me look him over, and from the crinkles in the corners of his eyes, 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 families 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 cardbox 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 complusive, 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.
Don’t miss the rest of
Summer has finally arrived, along with a boy who will forever ch
ange the life of fourteen-year-old Callie. After growing up hearing stories about Tristan Trevosier and his famous family, Callie finally meets him when he spends the summer on Martha's Vineyard. Seventeen-year-old Tristan is a hurricane of destruction and rebellion, and he quickly blows a hole right into Callie's sheltered life. Callie sees a side of Tristan that he doesn't show anyone else. She's determined to make everyone see what she sees in him.
Callie defies her parents by leaving the island with Tristan. But when his ugly habits rear their head, Callie realizes maybe she's the one who's wrong about him. He's beyond her help. But it's too late for her to walk away. This summer, she learns that love can be stronger than reason.
Immortal Dilemma is the hottest band in the Las Vegas vampire rock scene. They draw insatiable fans from around the globe, thanks to a supernatural attraction called Bloodlust. Tristan craved such an opportunity to fill his empty mortal life, and now he has eternity to earn his place along the legends of rock n roll debauchery.
Callie always feared that Tristan's excesses would get him into trouble, but she never thought they'd lead him to immortality. To reconnect with him, she must weave her way through a world not only she had no idea existed, but does not welcome her.
Blade turned down a spot in Immortal Dilemma after learning what he must sacrifice for that lifestyle. He finds Callie a refreshing change from the girls in the vampire rock scene. When Callie drags Blade back into the world of Immortal Dilemma, his resistance drives her into the waiting arms of Tristan, who shows her the true meaning of Bloodlust.
But the very things that Callie fights so hard to save are the very things that fight to destroy her.
Melanie Vaughn's job ruined everything. Her social life, nonexistent. Her relationship with her boyfriend, a hostile roommate situation. She resolves to fix everything one snowy afternoon, but instead comes home to discover her boyfriend is already exploring other options. Blonder, bustier options. Rage drives Melanie to do the unthinkable.
We Own the Night (The Night Songs Collection Book 3) Page 22
