A Vampire for Christmas(77)

After motoring his skiff up to the Cuban rumrunner, Damien had been shocked to see a familiar crew manning the schooner. A familiar crew with an infamous captain.

Although the transfer of the kegs had gone smoothly, vampire strength making the movement of so many loads go quickly, Damien had understood that this would not be the last time he would see Ramirez. There was too much bad blood between them for the other captain not to take advantage of their chance encounter.

After loading the skiff and paying Ramirez, Damien had snuck up the river inlet to the scattered sandbars where the locals and the Newark bosses would come ashore for their deliveries. Damien kept one keg for the owner of the small tavern where Angelina worked. Her boss was expecting Damien to hand deliver that rum when he came in for a bite of food later that night.

But Damien had errands to run before that delivery. First, he had to quench his hunger. He secured the keg in his skiff before returning to the small dock adjacent to the tavern. When he came ashore, luck was on his side as one of the local fishermen stumbled from the building, clearly having had a nip too much of the bootleg liquor supplied to the tavern’s clientele.

Damien rushed up to the man, eased an arm around him and helped him to a keg of nails sitting on the dock. The man plopped down, too drunk to continue home. He murmured his thanks, causing a momentary pang of guilt in Damien, but one that couldn’t quench his need to feed. The burst of vamp power he had used to help load the skiff had drained him. If Ramirez showed up tonight, he had to be at full strength.

And then there was Angelina. He had lost his control over the demon earlier because he had not fed in some time. He did not want to lose control again when they met later. It was Christmas Eve after all and he wanted to celebrate it with her. As a human—not as the demon he despised.

Bending toward the man, he held his breath to avoid the smell of cheap rum, cabbage and a body that had not seen a bar of soap for some time. Transforming, Damien sank his fangs into the man’s neck. The rush of blood brought a surge of power and painful desire. In another life he might have slaked that need on the next unsuspecting female that wandered by, but no longer.

He was in love with Angelina and her faith in him was far stronger than such base demon desire.

When the man moaned and slumped against him, nearly boneless from liquor and the loss of blood, Damien reared back. If he kept feeding he would kill the man. He had never done so in the century since he had become immortal and he would not kill tonight on such a Holy Night.

Sated, he paused to draw in a few bracing breaths of sea-kissed air and drive back the demon. After lowering the man to rest comfortably against the keg of nails, he rushed from behind the tavern to the main street in the tiny fishing village. Quickly, he finished his errands, stopping by the general store and paying off not only his accounts, but some of the debt owed by his housekeeper, dock hands and Angelina. They were too proud to take the money outright, but had yet to suspect why their credit was still good at the store.

I did not know, came Angelina’s heartfelt words in his head.

I did not want you to know, he silently replied and buried his head against his knees, unwilling to watch the scenes from the past any longer.

As their story unfolded on the walls of his bedroom, Angelina walked to his side and knelt behind him. She wrapped her arms around his body as the vision played on around them. Angelina understood this was meant to be his punishment: to relive her death yet again.

But the fact that he could not escape the visions did not mean that she could not comfort him, much as he had comforted her during her last moments on Earth.

The images around them blurred and spun until they arrived at the small tavern where she had worked during her last mortal visit.

Damien entered, a happy smile on his face, which broadened even further when he caught sight of her.

Angelina recalled how her heart had fluttered in her chest with his arrival. He was so handsome with his dark hair and silver-gray eyes. His body was lean and well-muscled from his many days at sea and his life as a vampire had not changed it much. If anything, his immortality had preserved his physical beauty, but Angelina’s role was to safeguard something much more important: his soul.

She had failed that first time a century ago when she had first been assigned to protect Damien. She had not perceived just how great a threat Ramirez could be. She had been too inexperienced a Guardian Angel, having no other experience on which to rely during that first assignment.

Nothing about Damien was easy, especially as she had found herself falling in love with him from the moment she’d first viewed his past life, a method Guardian Angels used to understand their charges.