“Can you even move your arms?” Paige asked.
Granny flapped her arms up and down like a bird trying to take flight.
“Can you bend them at the elbows?” Paige asked.
“I am bending them,” Granny replied.
We looked at her perfectly straight, and very wide, arms. Yeah. This was going to be fun. I had to resist the urge to reach over and smack Pita for starting all of this by saying she was bored.
A sleepy voice called out from the mantle over the fireplace. “Why is everyone dressed like they’re going outside?”
I looked over at my pet fruit bat, Peter Vincent, laying on the mantle. “Because we are going outside. Want to join us?”
The little bat scrunched up his face like he had bitten into an overly-tart lemon. “Is the house on fire?”
“No.”
“Are we being invaded by werewolves or other vile creatures?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“Then why would I want to leave this nice warm spot to go outside?”
“To look for a Christmas tree.”
Peter Vincent laughed, and then rolled over to face the wall, putting his back towards me.
“That’s not very Christmasy of you,” I said.
“Bah humbug,” Peter Vincent replied.
I glanced at the others. “Believe it or not, Peter Vincent has zero interest in taking part in this little adventure.”
The envious looks on Paige and Pita’s faces as they looked in the little bat’s direction were probably very close to the expression on my face. To have the luxury of just rolling over and ignoring Granny Mags. It was a pleasant thought. A happy thought. A warm thought. Warm was nice, because it would be in short supply as soon as we stepped out the door. Granny was right. Someone should’ve started the SUV. It would be nice and toasty by now if someone had done that a little earlier.
Deciding that the ‘someone’ who needed to be responsible was me, I started to head for the kitchen, since the back door was closer to the garage. “I’ll crank the truck so it can warm up a bit. If we’re going to freeze when we’re outside, there’s no reason to be cold when we’re in the SUV.”
A sudden frantic knocking on the front door froze me in my tracks. We all exchanged looks with each other. No other guests were expected, and a quick peek out the window revealed that snow was still falling. Surely, nobody else was crazy enough to go out in weather like this.
Another series of rapid-fire knocks on the door, although these were more insistent. More like pounding than knocking.
Taking a quick look at my sisters – and Granny’s impersonation of laundry – I reached for the door and opened it. Roxie Wulf, Transylvaniatown’s very own werewolf deputy, was on the other side. She looked at me with troubled eyes, agitation making them flicker back and forth between their normal brown and wolfy gold. “Santa needs your help.”
Chapter 3
Ever have one of those days where you’re convinced you woke up in the Twilight Zone? I was having one of those days. First, completely out of the blue, Granny decided we needed a Christmas tree, and now a werewolf cop was telling me that… No. That’s just too weird. I misheard her. Had to.
“Did you just say Santa needs our help” I asked.
Roxie sighed, the wind blowing her black hair, fallen snow practically invisible in the white stripe that slashed through her hair like a lightning bolt. “Yes. Can I come in? Please?”
I glanced over at Granny, waiting for the fireworks. She had decided she wanted a tree, and she usually didn’t react well when something prevented her from getting her way. Instead of fuming or glaring or whacking anyone with her cane, she just levelled a steady gaze at me. “You’re letting the heat out. Let the wolf in.”
Both Paige and Pita sucked in a sharp breath. Vampires and werewolves rarely got along, and Granny had never shied away from sharing her feelings about shifters, but here she was letting one be invited into our home.
I stepped back and Roxie quickly entered, stamping the snow from her feet as I pushed the door closed against the wind.
“Thank you,” Peter Vincent called out from his warm perch on the fireplace. “It was getting a bit chilly in here.” He suddenly sat up, his eyes wide, ears twitching. “Wait! Did she say Santa?”
Before I could blink, my little bat was perched on my shoulder, staring at Roxie as if she were a celebrity. “You know Santa?”
Roxie stared, perplexed, as Peter Vincent squeaked and chattered at her.
“He wants to know if you know Santa,” I translated.
The shifter blinked. “You understood that?”
I nodded, smiling. Animal communication was one of the rarer vampire gifts.
“Well,” Roxie said, suddenly unsure if she should look at me or Peter Vincent while talking, “he says he’s Santa… but we had a drunk locked up last week who swore he was the Easter bunny, so…” She shrugged.
“So you’re here because a drunk who thinks he’s Santa needs help?” Paige asked, looking incredibly unhappy about having the hunt for a Christmas tree interrupted. She wasn’t overly fond of shifters, either.
“No,” Roxie said. “I’m here because a little old man, who appears sane and sober aside from saying his name is Santa, said he needs a vampire’s help.”
“Fan-fanging-tastic,” Pita cried, throwing her hands up in the air. “Who all knows we’re vampires?”
I winced at the question. The town’s sheriff, Alec Grayson, had recently learned I was a vampire. He didn’t take it well. To say the least. Things had been going really well between us, too. We were friendly and flirty and working our way to a first date if either one of us could actually work up the courage to ask.
And then he saw me drain a murderer of every drop of blood in their body. In my defense, I had been poisoned. It was either the person who had killed two people or me. Seemed like an easy choice at the time.
Pita saw the look and reached for me, squeezing my arm. “Oh. I’m sorry, Penny. I didn’t mean… I just…” She shrugged. “I’m a dork.”
“Well, in case you’re wondering,” Roxie said, glaring at Pita, “it’s not like we took an ad out in the paper letting everyone know the girls of Dreadful Inn are really undead bloodsuckers.”
“We’re not undead,” Paige snapped angrily. “That’s an ugly myth that authors and filmmakers dumped on us.”
Roxie closed her eyes and took a few calming breaths. I had noticed she had started to look a bit more hairy than usual so seeing her trying to keep control was comforting. An upset werewolf was not a good thing.
“Take it easy on her,” I told Paige. “She’s just doing her job.” And she had been nice to me when she saw how Alec reacted to the vampire revelation.
“Anyway,” Roxie said, appearing calmer now, “the four of you being vampires isn’t exactly common knowledge so I thought it might be important that this man, who I’ve never seen before tonight, knows your secret.”
“It’s very important,” Granny said. “Take us to him.”
Roxie nodded. “I’ve got the department’s Suburban so there’s no shortage of room.”
I couldn’t help but notice her eyeing Granny’s space-consuming outfit as she made that comment.
“Hold on just a minute,” I said, fishing my phone out of my jacket pocket to send a text.
Anthony, going to save Santa. Stop being kinky with Broomhilda and keep an eye on our guests.
His response came back a few seconds later.
We can be kinky and keep an eye on the guests at the same time. Have fun saving Santa.
I slid my phone back in my pocket. “Okay, ready to go.” I glanced at my little fruit bat. “Back to the warm fireplace for you, big guy.”
Peter Vincent stared at me, shocked. “And miss seeing Santa? Not a chance.”
I shrugged. “Okay, if that’s what you want.”
Roxie stared at us, mystified. It was almost funny. The girl could turn into a wolf but me talki
ng to my pet bat was weird. “Okay,” she said. “Brace yourself.” She opened the door and the icy cold wind immediately slammed into us.
“Oh fang me!” Peter Vincent cried. “It’s too cold to live.” He hopped off my shoulder and dove into my jacket pocket. “Santa better appreciate this,” I heard him grumble.
It was funny at first, but as we ventured outside, making our way through the storm, the wind blowing stinging snowflakes into our eyes, I decided Peter Vincent was right. It really was too cold to live.
I looked back over my shoulder at the Dreadful Inn. There was comfort and warmth and coffee there, but the truck was actually closer than the front door now, so it was too late to turn back. That was a depressing thought.
We climbed into the truck with sighs of relief, actually cheering when Roxie cranked the heat up. She had wisely chosen to keep the truck running while getting us so it took almost no time at all for us to feel somewhat warm again.
“Okay, now comes the fun part,” Roxie said, glancing over at me. I could see the relief on her face that I was in the passenger seat, while Granny, Paige, and Pita and opted to sit in the back. It’s not like we were actually friends, but we had experience being civil with each other. “I’m going to have to let some of the wild out. I need the eyesight and reflexes of my wolf.”
I nodded, and was immediately surrounded by the smells of a dense forest. It was strange to see a landscape of white while smelling the earthy nature of the woods. It reminded me of Spring.
With her eyes glowing a feral yellow and the tips of her fangs making themselves visible, Roxie grabbed the steering wheel, prepared to do battle with Mother Nature. “If this guy isn’t really Santa Claus, I might kill him,” she growled.
I looked through the windshield, seeing nothing but smears of white. It was like all color had been drained from the world. The truck rocked back and forth as the wind slammed into us again and again, like a giant invisible sledgehammer.
“Just for the record,” Peter Vincent said from my pocket, “this isn’t fun.”
I nodded, petting him through my coat. If this guy wasn’t really Santa, I’d probably help Roxie kill him.
THE VAMPIRE AND THE SILENT KNIGHT will be available soon. Sign up for my newsletter to find out when it’s released.
http://piperalexander.com/newsletter/
About the Author
Piper Alexander isn’t a New York Times bestselling author yet, but she’s working on it, writing action-packed paranormal stories that are filled with mystery, romance, and plenty of laughs.
Piper loves cats, donuts, and Doctor Who, but doesn’t like spiders, snakes, or that weird thing known as camping. She lives in Texas with a household of cats that graciously let her share their living space as long as she feeds them and changes their cat litter on a regular basis.
If you’re interested in receiving an email each time Piper releases a new book, please sign up at:
http://piperalexander.com/newsletter/
Connect with Piper Alexander online:
Website: piperalexander.com
Twitter: @paranormalpiper
Facebook: www.facebook.com/piperalexanderauthor/
Copyright
Copyright 2016 by Piper Alexander
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any informational storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in book reviews.
The Vampire and the Prince of Roses, Dreadful Vampire #2
First Edition
Table of Contents
Also by Piper Alexander
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Also by Piper Alexander
About the Author
Copyright
The Vampire and the Prince of Roses (Dreadful Vampire Mysteries Book 2) Page 9
