A Vampire for Christmas(57)

Spying Olivia’s driver as he passed, he avoided eye contact with the man, then kicked it in gear and headed north until he arrived at the same place he’d been every other night for the past ten days. The girls standing before the shoddy wood fence ran toward him. Charity, the quiet one, was eight, and Mary was twelve, the bossy one who looked after her little sister and mother.

Where have you been?” Mary said, grabbing him by the wrist and tugging him along. “She’s really bad. You said tonight was the night.”

Daniel flinched when Charity tugged his jacket hem. Wide brown eyes sought his. Her hair was tangled, and he bet she hadn’t eaten a wholesome meal in weeks.

Is my mommy going to be a vampire?” the little girl asked.

Charity, we said not to use that word,” Mary admonished.

Daniel winced and considered what to say. To lie to them would be cruel, and their mother hadn’t lied since she’d been bitten and had been struggling against the inevitable vampirism that could overtake her soul. Little girls shouldn’t have to know such horrors as homelessness and vampirism. Yet Mary was so straightforward, she was like a forty-year-old in a twelve-year-old’s body.

Not if I can help it,” he offered. A mournful moan echoed from behind the fence. It was where the mother had been living with her daughters for the past few months. “She had anything to drink?” he asked Mary.

No money for vodka. But I did get her some Pepsi.”

Since her mother had lost her job, the girl had been forced to grow up too quickly. Daniel could relate in a strange way; he’d been forced to view his life differently since vampirism had lost him his job. The body did what it had to do to survive. It was the minds of these sweet girls he worried about.

I’m going to check on your mother.”

Mary shoved him toward the makeshift gate, while Charity clung to him. He put a palm to her head. It was so cold. She needed a cap, though the mittens he’d brought them a week ago were on her hands. How could he have forgotten caps?

Kneeling to put himself at eye level with the misfortunate shivering thing, he asked Charity, “You know what tonight is?”

She nodded. “Santa comes and brings toys to the kids who have homes.”

His heart shattered. He felt Mary’s stern admonishment of her sister without having to look at her stoic little face.

Santa is make-believe,” he said and didn’t regret the truth. These girls deserved his honesty. “Christmas is the celebration of a great man’s birthday. Good things happen on Christmas Eve.” He stopped himself from saying “I promise,” and patted Charity’s head before pushing through the gate.

Laura Jones sought his gaze, her pale eyes—circled not with black makeup but instead darkened from her struggles over the past week—were wide and manic. Her shoulders shook and her hands did, as well, as she rubbed them along her jeans as he approached. He prayed she hadn’t succumbed to the madness.

Daniel had learned, only after he’d been bitten and had answered the insane compulsion to drink blood, that there were a few ways a mortal could avoid transforming into a vampire. They could commit suicide. They could stake the vampire who had bit them—good luck finding the *. Or they could attempt to not drink blood before the next full moon, which would then allow the vampire’s taint to pass through their system.

Only problem with that last one was sure madness overtook the mortal who fought the blood hunger. Or so he’d been told. He’d had two weeks to go before the full moon, but had succumbed to the insane craving within five days. If he had known better, he would have tried to wait for the moon. He hadn’t known better.

But Laura would now benefit from his knowledge. With her daughters to occupy her during the day and his nightly visits, she was succeeding in beating the hunger. She had to make it through tonight, or actually past midnight when the moon was highest in the sky.

He kneeled before the woman and clapped his hands together in determination. “Let’s do this.”

I can’t.” She beat against his chest with ineffectual fists. “I can’t wait. I need it now. You said if the craving got too strong you’d let me drink your blood.” She lunged for his neck but he gripped her wrists and pushed her against the fence.

I also told you, tasting vampire blood is not going to work. You need mortal blood—hell, Laura, you can do this. It’s just a few more hours. Don’t you want to get through this for your girls?”

Girls?” Her eyes flickered toward the gate. “Yes, bring one here. A nice warm drink of blood.”