A Vampire's Christmas Carol(19)

“Why? It’s not like knowing will change anything.” The shifter’s hand pushed into Ben’s back. “There’s more to see. We don’t have all night to stare at the dead.”

Ben knocked his hand aside. “We’re not just leaving him in the snow.”

“Sure we are.” That hand came right back to his shoulder.

Ben shoved it off again. “No, we’re not.” Ben looked down at the ground. “He’s—”

Gone.

“We’re looking at the future, vamp. He’s not dead. Not yet.” Jamison propelled him forward once more. “Let’s see what else is waiting for you.”

Ben didn’t want to go anywhere. “Unless it involves Simone, I don’t want to see the future that’s coming.”

Jamison stopped shoving him. “This night isn’t about her.”

“Yeah, well, guess what? I’m changing the rules. From now on…it’s about her.” Because she was alive somewhere in this world. Maybe in heaven. But she was alive. “I don’t go anywhere, I don’t see anything, unless it’s about her.”

Jamison tilted his head back and stared up at the sky.

“You told me that I wasn’t worth what she’d done for me,” Ben nearly shouted at the guy. “I want to know what she did. I want to know what happens to her.” I have to know if she comes back to me.

Jamison’s head lowered. His gaze found Ben’s. “Maybe I can show you her future…and yours. Both mixed together. That won’t break the rules too much.”

If their futures were mixed, then that had to mean she came back to him. Hope flooded through Ben. “Good. Do it, just—”

Snow swirled around them. The snowflakes were moving so fast then that they almost looked like wings—an angel’s wings.

The twisting, gnarled trees vanished in that blur of white.

“Remember,” Jamison growled, “you asked for this.”

Ben heard screams then. Voices rising and falling in desperation. So many voices.

So much pain. So much fear.

What did they all fear?

Is it me? Did they fear him? In the future, what would he do?

But then the snow vanished once more, and Ben saw…Simone.





Chapter Eight


“Simone!” Ben cried out her name.

“Aw, man, come on,” Jamison shook his head in disgust. “You know it doesn’t work like that. This is your third freakin’ time tonight with this crap. Get the drill down, okay? No one can hear you or see you in these visions. That’s just how it goes.”

Simone was walking in front of Ben. They were…in Desolate? Yes, the shifter had transported them back to the heart of the little town. Ben glanced around and recognized the town’s lone bar. The bar waited just a few feet away.

He hurried to keep pace with Simone. She might not be able to see or hear him, but he had no intention of losing sight of her.

The bar’s door opened. A man wearing a heavy coat staggered out. His eyes locked on Simone. “Well, hello, there, sweet—”

She grabbed him and rammed the man against the bar’s outer wall. Then she sank her fangs into the man’s neck.

“Surprise,” Jamison said.

Ben could only shake his head. This isn’t right. “No, she’s an angel!”

“Not in this future, she’s not. Actually…she hasn’t been a full angel in about ten years.”

Ben’s eyes were on Simone. The man wasn’t fighting her. He couldn’t. She’d just—she’d ripped his throat open.

Simone?

She let the man fall when she was done with him. Then she wiped her mouth, stopping long enough to lick the blood from her fingers.

And she headed into the bar.

Screams came then. Ben lurched forward when the cries erupted.

Jamison blocked his path. “You know what she’s doing in there. Wasn’t that—” He jerked his thumb toward the dead body. “Wasn’t that enough of a future glimpse for you?”

Ben’s gut twisted. “Simone isn’t like this.”

“You mean, she wasn’t.”

The screams quieted.

“I told you.” Jamison nodded and flashed that toothy grin of his. One that held an evil edge. “She gave up a lot for you.”

Simone appeared in the doorway again. Her blonde hair gleamed in the bar’s light, and that light also clearly showed the blood that soaked her shirt.

“There’s a price for magic.” Jamison turned his head and watched as Simone walked away. The woman was even whistling. “Especially for the kind of mojo she wanted used on you tonight.”

Ben peered into the bar’s window. Three bodies were sprawled across the wooden floor inside that place. “This isn’t her.” He grabbed Jamison by his t-shirt once again. “This is some trick you’re using to mess with my mind. Now show me her, the real Simone. Show me her future.”

Jamison’s hands came up, and four-inch long claws had sprung from his fingertips. “Move ‘em,” he ordered Ben, “or lose those hands.”

Ben didn’t move them. “Don’t make me kill you, shifter.”

“You mean…the way you killed Simone?”