A Vampire's Christmas Carol(17)

The snow started to fall again.

“You have worth to me,” she said, gazing up at him with eyes that swam with tears. He hated the sight of her tears. They broke him.

Her hand stroked his cheek. “You always will have worth to me, and for you, I’d even go into the darkness.”

She rose onto her toes then. Simone pressed her lips to his. He kissed her back. Desperate, greedy. Ben had never thought he’d get to hold her again. To have her in his arms once more was better than heaven, it was—

She vanished.

The snow fell harder, and Simone, she was just—gone.

“Simone?” He spun around in the snow. There were no sign of her footprints. Had she flown away? Moving at that angel speed of hers? He looked up, gazing frantically into the sky that no longer shone with stars. Snow fell down onto him. “Simone!”

But she didn’t answer him. The cold crept into his bones. Rage bled through his pores. She had left…again? After such a short time? She’d come back, she’d screwed with his head, and she’d just flown away?

“No, angel,” he vowed as he stared up at that dark sky. “You don’t escape.” Even if he had to fight his way up to heaven, he wasn’t letting her go.

Simone had made a fatal mistake. She’d come back. She’d reminded him of everything that he’d lost on that New York street. He wouldn’t lose her again.

I can’t.

He also wasn’t going to just stand there on that long, snow-filled road all night. He glanced to the left once more. Then to the right.

Just as he took one step, a growl rose in the darkness. Ben tensed even as his fangs automatically lengthened in his mouth. The fang extension was a vamp’s fight-and-kill instinct, a natural reaction to danger.

A dark form emerged from the falling snow. Black, sleek, the animal came toward Ben with its head positioned low to the ground. But as the beast drew closer, that head lifted, revealing a mouth packed with long, sharp teeth.

That’s not a damn dog. The beast leaned back on its hind legs as it prepared to launch toward Ben.

It’s a panther. A black panther on a snow-filled night. A black panther who was hurtling toward him right then in a blur of speed. Ben lifted his hands, more than ready to fight the beast but—

But he wasn’t staring at a beast any longer.

Mid-attack, the panther shifted. Its body stretched. The fur vanished and skin appeared. Bones popped and snapped and Ben soon found himself staring at a man.

The man’s bright green eyes assessed him. “Hi, *,” the guy said, his voice rumbling and sounding like a growl. “Remember me?”

Ben’s gaze locked on the guy’s face. He studied that face and let his brows rise. The panther from the cemetery. “The last time I saw a panther shifter, the cat ran away from me.”

The man smiled and waved his hand. The snow stopped falling. “I wasn’t running from you. I was so happy you’d killed those bastards…I was starting my life. I was running toward my future, not from you.”

Ben didn’t relax his guard. Not for a moment. “I’m supposed to believe that crap? You and your shifter buddies were a pack.” At least, he’d thought they were. They’d sure all attacked together. “You were fighting with them.”

“It’s not easy to kill an alpha shifter. Even if the prick is crazy as all hell.” The man smiled. He had thick, dark hair and eerily bright green eyes. Ben had never seen eyes shine quite the way this shifter’s did.

The guy was also stark naked.

“You freed me from him,” the shifter said. “So now, I owe you.”

“Great,” Ben snapped. Cause that was what he wanted. A cat saying he was grateful. “How about you put on some clothes and we’ll call it even?”

The man waved his hand again, and clothes just—appeared. Jeans. A t-shirt. A t-shirt? In the winter?

“I don’t get cold,” the guy told him. “Shifters usually run hot.”

Wonderful for them. Ben shouldered past the guy.

“Ah, at least you’re going in the right direction…”

The cat was following him. No, not following him. The cat shifter was right beside Ben now. The guy moved fast.

“I’m Jamison,” the fellow said.

Ben whirled toward him. “Fuck off, Jamison.”

Jamison’s green eyes narrowed. “I’m your last visitor for the night.”

This was so screwed. “I don’t want you.” Ben grabbed the shifter by the t-shirt. “I want Simone back. Bring her back.” She was the only visitor he cared about.

“Ah, enjoyed that little meet-and-greet, did you?” Humor flashed in the shifter’s eyes. “But that angel is smokin’, so I don’t blame you a single bit for wanting to tap that ass.”

Ben slammed his head into the shifter’s nose. There was a savagely satisfying crunch of sound. Blood spurted. The shifter howled.

“Don’t f*cking talk about her,” Ben snarled at him. He was more than ready to let his own beast out. “She’s the woman I’m going to—”

“What? Marry?” The shifter pressed a hand to his bleeding nose. Then, not even pausing for a second, he snapped the broken nose back into place. “Sorry, man, but I don’t see that in your future.”