Christmas in Vampire Valley (5 page)

"No, she's a fairy in a predominately vampire valley.
That makes her the perfect scape goat for the heist of the year or maybe I should
say century." Vance chuckled, nodding toward me. "Take a closer look
at that costume jewelry she has on."

I frowned, fingering the tear shaped pendant at my throat.

"That goose-sized ruby is the missing Isabella's Tear
from Uncle Warren's gem collection."

I gasped, jerking my fingers away from the priceless gem.

Myth surrounded the ancient ruby. Lore said the oldest of
phoenix (a warrior fairy) created the blood-red gem when the all-powerful winged
fairy dropped into a searching coma, sending out tendrils of her consciousness
seeking her true mate. The moment her breathing slowed to bare nothing, a blood
tear appeared in the hollow of her throat.

Every race of Sídhí had its own myths, but the story of
Isabella touched me to the bottom of my heart. Isabella had been the most
powerful of phoenix, a terror among the deadly race. The ancient woman had
sought her mate in sleep rather than face another day without him at her side.

Every Sídhí had a destined mate. We only had a single chance
of finding our mate, of becoming whole and truly happy. I knew the synth
crystal lacing my blood would one day sing for my perfect mate, my soul mate.

Deep down, I agreed with Isabella's decision. To live
thousands of years without a bonded mate would be horrid.

Myth said the ruby pulled two perfect mates together. Among
the Sídhí, the flawless gem was a priceless piece of mythical history.

"That's what the explosion was all about." I
finally connected the pieces. "Kendrick set me up." It had to be my
boss. Everything pointed at him, from insisting I work in a witch's costume
that he provided to Narlene telling the guardians I was near the dressing rooms
before the explosion.

"We believe he's involved in a large crime ring, but we
haven't been able to prove it. He talked to Phinnea and nobody else." Chandar
rubbed the back of his neck, looking toward the bulk of the castle high above
us. "We had hoped to catch him red handed, but then Phinnea changed the
original plan, saying the boss wanted you and the gem. Things went a bit crazy
from there."

"You haven't taken him into custody yet, have you?"
Brandon demanded.

The guardian snorted. "I take it you do recognize his
last name?"

I groaned. Who wouldn't recognize MuskLeke? High Councilman
MuskLeke was a political bulldozer and Kendrick was part of his far-flung
family.

"In other words, Kendrick is Jack the Ripper's great
nephew and no one hurts one of Jack's people, except Jack." Brandon
sounded furious, completely opposite of the gentle caress as his thumb rubbed
my neck.

Wait a minute!

"You mean Councilman MuskLeke was London's serial
killer?" I swallowed, unable to keep the revulsion from my voice.

"It's what you might call an open secret in certain
circles." Brandon growled, nodding toward his cousin. His arms tightened
so snug around me I couldn't have moved even had I wanted. "You are not
using her as bait. I'll kill the first one who suggests it."

"Bait?" Oh, that's what had him growling.
"They wouldn't suggest using me unless there was no danger. Right?"

Brandon chuckled with zilch humor. "When MuskLeke is
involved, it is always dangerous."

Brandon cleaned up and changed into a Grim Reaper costume to
compliment my witch's outfit. He didn't look very Christmassy as he twirled me
around the great ballroom.

The band played Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer.

The music slowed and so did Brandon, curling me closer. His
face was set in stone.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, playing with the silky
strands of his hair. I might've been bait to catch a serial killer, but I had
never been happier. "If you don't quit scowling, I'll go dance with
Ryan."

That got me a short growl. He leaned closer, nuzzling my ear
and whispered, "I thought you liked Ryan."

"Um, yeah, he's okay." What was his point?

"So, did you really want him to have two broken
arms?" His voice was so serious that I leaned back, looking into his grim
face. His face matched his voice and outfit.

"You wouldn't hurt your own twin. Anyway, if you didn't
want him to dance with me, broken legs would be better."

"Fair warning, Megan, I want you as mine." His
words sucked the air from my lungs. "I'll kill anyone that touches you.
I'd make a onetime exception for Ryan and break his arms so he couldn't touch
you."

I laughed uneasily. "You've got the Grim Reaper persona
down pat. Anyone would think I was your mate or something."

I looked into his sparkling green eyes and I saw love
staring back at me.

Music erupted in my blood, dancing in my head. The song
filled me from the inside out, an alien tune that no one else, except Brandon
heard. Eerie and heart stopping, the symphony crashed through my blood. Singing
in pure crystalized tone, the Song of the Sídhí named Brandon as my mate.

My thoughts scattered into a million tiny shards.

He held me close, never dropping eye contact.
"Meg,
talk to me. You look like someone smacked you with a baseball bat. Please, tell
me you want me as badly as I want you."

Did I want him? He had to be kidding. He was my heart's
desire, but I couldn't tell him that without sounding like a cornball.

"You knew?"
I whispered in his mind, unable
to wrap my brain around what my body was telling me.

"I've wanted to ask you out forever. On the first
day of school, I finally built up my nerve and walked up to you. My synth picked
that exact moment to sing for you. I kept waiting for you to hear it, but you
didn't."

"I remember. You looked kind of stunned and then
hurriedly asked if I had a fun summer."
My mouth kept talking, saying
things that weren't important. I wanted to shout at him, asking if he wanted to
bond with me. He said he wanted me, but that wasn't the same as bonding. Vampires
were a bit funny about pure mating. There were no two ways about it, I was a
fairy and one day, I'd be a darn powerful one.

His lips twitched into a smile.
"Yeah, I had been
worried you'd say no, but after my synth sang, I knew I had to get it right the
first time."

I grinned, and asked,
"Too afraid of yard
duty?"

The music slowly faded from my veins.

Shaking his head no, his eyes twinkled.
"Mowing a
jungle every day was the least of my concerns. I was terrified you'd turn me
down."

Vance's voice appeared in my head.
"You two head
outside."

"No,"
Brandon said emphatically, projecting
his mental voice so Vance and I could hear him.
"There's no way you can
protect her out there."

"We've got a good chance at linking Councilman
MuskLeke to Kendrick, but only if we catch him red-handed."
Vance
sounded frustrated.
"He'll never approach Megan with so many witnesses
around. Chandar and I will be within twenty feet at all times."

"I agree."
I smiled into Brandon's scowling
face, trying to sweeten the blow. "Come on, Mr. Grim Reaper, let's explore
the garden."

Following me through an archway of chiseled stone roses, he
grumbled beneath his breath. "I'd rather take you home, not go tromping
through the garden at midnight."

I chuckled and squeezed his hand. "Surely, we can find
something to do in a dark garden."

"Kissing you again is at the very top of my list, but
not a good idea." He paused. Looking down at me, he gently caressed my
lower lip. "Those beautiful red lips are way too distracting. When they
touch me, I forget my own name, much less what's going on around me."

Oh. My heart melted and I fell for him all over again.

I heard two soft pops, quickly followed by two thumps.

Phinnea stepped onto the path, waving a gun. I didn't have a
clue what type it was.

"Well," she smiled, pointing the gun at us,
"now that I've gotten rid of your shadows with a couple of tranquilizer
darts, let's go for a little walk."

I heard someone walk up behind us. From the snorted chuckle,
I assumed it was Norman. Before I could resist, he snapped a silver cuff on my
wrist.

Brandon bared his fangs and snarled.

Phinnea pointed her tranquilizer gun at my chest.

 I knew it wouldn't kill me, but the only tranqs that worked
on a Sídhí used mite juice, a nasty venom that caused pain and paralysis. I'd
be completely helpless for hours.

Brandon tensed, allowing Norman to snap the other end of the
cuff around his wrist. He curled his fingers around mine.

"We should've brought an extra set," Norman said,
referring to the single pair of cuffs connecting Brandon to me.

"We had another, until Chandar changed sides,"
Phinnea said harshly, spitting on the ground. "Let's go, the boss wanted
the gem hours ago."

She smiled; a curving of her lips that held the promise of
pain. "One wrong move and I won't tranq you, I'll kill you both."

She turned on her heel, heading out of the garden.

I tried mentally speaking to Brandon, but as I suspected the
silver killed that ability.

We followed her out of the garden and through the edge of
the village.

Following a path made with pea-sized gravel, we ducked under
a thin chain blocking the entrance to the cemetery. The closed area of the park
was deathly quiet, a perfect place to kill someone if you didn't want
witnesses.

Gravestones led the way, some tilted while others soared
above us carved in various shapes from angels to sword toting warriors. Weeping
willows spread through the cemetery, casting odd shaped shadows through the
area. A lone coyote howled in the distance. It felt more like Halloween than
Christmas.

I shuddered, praying for another miracle, a Christmas
miracle that would see Brandon and me to safety.

She halted by a small non-descript headstone, so old I could
barely read the writing proclaiming it to be the grave of a beloved mate, a
human by the name of Pedro Galdora.

Immediately behind her, a giant weeping willow weaved with
the wind. She glanced around, completely ignoring us. "Get to the wyvern
barn and grab us two mounts," she ordered Norman. "Make sure the
blasted thing has a muzzle on."

I watched the vampire race out of the cemetery, toward the
huge barns housing Sídhí's version of recreational riding. Wyvern had the intelligence
of a dog. The vicious winged creatures looked like a small dragon. Give one a
chance and it'd bite a riders foot (or other bodily part) clean-off.

I leaned against Brandon, inching slowly behind him so
Phinnea couldn't see my actions.

She turned away from us, looking toward the front of the
cemetery.

Her inattention gave me the opportunity to slide my hand down
Brandon's tight jeans, moving from his waist slowly down his front pocket.

I felt more than heard him suck his breath in as I neared
his private area.

I tapped the long, hard length of his switchblade and glanced
up to see him watching Phinnea's every move. He twisted a bit, putting his body
between her and me.

Slipping my hand into his tight pants, he tensed.

I didn't blame him. Yes, there was sexual tension between
us, but even more important was the sharp edge of the synth blade. If I touched
the switchblade at the wrong spot, I'd release the blade that was snug against
his body.

I certainly didn't want to make my mate into a eunuch.

Curling my fingers around the knife, I carefully pulled it
out of his pocket.

"Well, about time you showed up," Phinnea said
snappishly, glaring at Kendrick as he hurried toward us.

He curled his sharp nose up at her. "Meeting my
girlfriend at the Country Club was necessary. You might not have a reputation
to protect, but I do. She gave me the perfect alibi."

He turned to me. "You're more bloody trouble than I
thought you'd be."

Claws extended, he stalked toward me.

Brandon stepped forward, leaving his bound wrist slightly
behind him.

I took the hint and quickly sliced the silver cuff off his
wrist. I twisted the blade around, cutting my end off in the same motion.

Brandon extended his claws and roared. Every night creature
within hearing went instantly quiet, hiding from the larger predator as he
issued his challenge.

Kendrick hesitated, sniffing in contempt he charged forward
claws glinting in the brilliant moonlight.

They met head-on, slashing at each other. Blood spewed
upward.

Phinnea darted toward me.

I dashed around a large statue, climbing its tall pedestal
like a monkey. I stilled, waiting for her.

She rushed around the corner, never looking up.

I jumped, landing on her back. I shoved the knife into her
chest, ripping downward.

She shrieked. Bucking like a possessed donkey, she threw me
off.

I smacked against the marble pedestal, literally seeing
bright flashes of light floating in front of my face. My head pounded in pain.

I shoved myself vertical as footsteps ran toward me. I
glanced at Phinnea, but the vampire lay curled on her side, arms wrapped around
her middle trying to keep her insides from falling out until her body healed
the gaping wound.

Knife outward, I spun toward the sound and nearly gutted
Brandon as he flew around the corner.

"Thank God," he said fervently, wrapping his arms
around me.

I held him tightly, shuddering in the aftermath. "Are
you okay?" I didn't give a darn about hurting his male ego by questioning
his fighting ability.

"Fine."

I leaned back, until I could see his face and frowned at his
tight expression.

"Yeah, right, sure you're fine. How bad are you hurt,
Mr. Macho Vampire?"