A Vampire's Christmas Carol(3)

“I don’t care if your blood burns,” Ben said, pushed too far. “I’m about to drain you.”

The fire flared again, and in the next instant, William was right in front of Ben. The demon was fast. “You should be more grateful. You’re immortal. One of the most powerful vampires I’ve ever come across. But you’re going down a dark and dangerous path, a path you don’t want to take.”

Ben offered him a grim smile. “It’s the only path for me.” Blood and death and demons. Yeah, that all seemed right.

“Once you wanted more.” William grabbed Ben’s hand. The demon’s touch burned, and smoke rose from Ben’s skin. “You just need to remember that. Remember who you were before.”

Ben twisted his wrist, but, even with his vamp strength, he couldn’t break free from William’s hold. “Let. Me. Go.” Or he’d be ripping the demon’s head off in the next five seconds.

“I’m the first visitor of the night.”

The first?

“There will be three, and in the end, the choice will be yours.” William glared at him. “But I’m telling you, *, make the right choice.”

Ben flashed his fangs and went for the demon’s throat. He braced himself for the acid burn to come. He’d drunk from a demon before, and he knew that taste would be a real bitch.

Before his fangs could slice into William, flames erupted around them. Surrounded them. And Ben knew he was about to die. His last thought…

Finally.





Chapter Two


Ben smashed, face-first, into the snow. He leapt up and spat out the snow that filled his mouth. “What in the hell—”

“Not hell,” William cheerfully told him. “Been there, done that plenty. This is New York. Your old town.”

Ben whirled around. His gaze darted to the left. To the right. Sure enough, he recognized the buildings that shot so high up into the air. New York. He’d lived and breathed in this city for so long.

He’d also died there, temporarily, anyway.

His gaze focused on the entrance to Central Park. He’d been in there when his “death” happened. It had been so stupid to walk in the park that night. But he’d had plans. Such grand, hopeful plans.

His parents had loved that park. Before they’d died, he’d gone there with them so many times. The park had seemed to be the perfect place to start the future he craved.

But there’d been no future for him in that park. Only death.

“Let’s just take a closer look,” William murmured. He grabbed Ben again with his white-hot, burning hold, and in the next instant, they were inside Central Park. The snow was thick on the ground, and, in the distance, Ben could hear the sound of singing.

Christmas carols.

He’d heard those same songs ten years ago. Ten long years…

“Ah…let’s see…” William’s head turned to the right. “I figure you’ll be here in five, four, three, two…”

A man walked out of the darkness. A man who wore a long, flowing coat. The fool didn’t even have a cap on, and the snow left flecks of white in the fellow’s black hair. The guy’s shoulders were hunched against the cold and—

The man looked up. His green eyes darted around the park. Ben’s breath caught as he stared at the guy.

That’s me.

And just how was he staring at himself? What was William doing? How as this even possible? Ben grabbed William’s shirt-front. “What is happening?”

William frowned down at Ben’s grabbing hands. “Have a care. That’s an expensive shirt.”

What? The shirt had survived fire. Ben was pretty sure it would survive his grip. A growl broke from Ben’s lips.

William sighed. “Magic makes it possible, okay? Some very powerful magic.”

Ben’s hands fell to his side.

“You’re seeing a memory, my friend,” William told him flatly. “So don’t bother trying to call out to anyone. They can’t see you. They can’t hear you.”

Seeing a memory…

“And, unfortunately—”

“We’re not friends,” Ben said, but the words held no heat. He was pretty much too stunned for heat then.

“Unfortunately,” William pressed on, “this isn’t one of your better nights. This memory is gonna suck for you.”

No, no, it wasn’t a good night. Because even as Ben stared in shock, he saw a shadowy figure leap out from the trees. That figure hit his old self. How f*cking crazy is this? I’m watching the attack that ended my human life.

Watching it and hating it.

The attack was fast and vicious, and blood sprayed on the white snow as the vampire sank his teeth into his prey’s neck.

Ben lifted a hand to his throat. He remembered the feel of that bite. As if a thousand razor blades had just sliced into him.

As he kept watching, too stunned to speak, Ben realized that his old self was still trying to fight. Swinging out, punching. But a human was no match for a vampire.

And the guy that had attacked him this long ago night had been a very, very strong vampire. He looked at the vampire, noting the man’s blond hair, so blond it was almost white, and the guy’s ashen complexion. The vampire fed on him for so long and then…