Bittersweet Christmas_The Order Read online

  It was a measure of how fucked up Ryan’s life was that Piers seriously considered the question. “It might,” he said. “But then there’s the fact that you aren’t just a vampire.”

  Yeah, that was the crux of the matter. No one knew quite what to expect of him.

  Fucking werewolves.

  If he closed his eyes, he saw feral eyes, fangs, felt the slash of claws. Inside him something stirred, warmth where there had only been cold for so long. He opened his eyes, dismissing the sensation. He was not going there. If he was in denial, so be it.

  Up until now, he hadn’t shifted. General consensus was that since vampires were stronger, his vampire side must be subduing his werewolf side. And if he had any say in it, that was the way things were going to stay. He quite liked being a vampire. It was sort of cool. He was super strong, might get to live forever, and given time, he’d be able to go into peoples’ minds and control them, as well as other stuff he was only just learning about. But no way did he want to turn furry once a month. Or have anything to do with those asshole werewolves.

  Piers shook his head and sighed. “I’m going to have to cancel my trip. Roz will be disappointed, but with everyone else away, I can’t risk leaving you alone.”

  “You’re kidding me, right?”

  “Nope.”

  “Roz really wants this trip. She told me.”

  “She wants you alive more.”

  He smirked. “I thought I was already dead.”

  “Believe me, you could be deader. And you know what would happen then?”

  “Nope.” But he was sure he was going to find out.

  “I would get a whole lot of grief from Roz.”

  Roz was Piers’ wife and Ryan’s friend. He and Roz went way back. Back to when he’d worked for the Metropolitan police and she’d come to him with information about a missing person that she couldn’t have possibly known. But then, Roz was a witch. They’d been friends ever since and she’d helped him on other cases after that first one. It was due to Roz that he’d gotten mixed up with the Order in the first place and ended up working for Piers. He didn’t hold it against her—most of the time.

  “I’ll be good. I won’t leave the building. I—”

  “I suppose we could lock you in the holding cells for the holidays. But that will hardly put you in the festive spirit.”

  A shudder ran through him at the thought of being confined in a small cell. He’d become slightly claustrophobic over the last few months. It was a good thing no one expected him to sleep in a coffin.

  At that moment, someone came up and whispered in Piers’ ear. A thoughtful expression entered his eyes. “Really? Tell her I’ll be right there.” He turned back to Ryan. “I’ve got to go see someone. Stay here. Mingle. Suck on a candy cane.”

  As Piers walked away, Ryan snagged a passing waiter. “Whisky,” he said. They were playing “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” now.

  Jesus.

  “Make that a bottle.”

  Chapter Three

  Winter sat on the edge of the desk, her booted feet swinging.

  She’d been here for an hour. Graham, the handsome red-haired receptionist, had offered her coffee, but she was too wound up to eat or drink.

  There was a good chance that Piers would just package her up and send her straight back to her father.

  But she couldn’t let that happen. This was her opportunity to change her life.

  She needed to do this for herself. And for Liam. She was going to find a way to deliver Uncle John with a big bow around his neck. There were two people she needed to cooperate for that to happen—John Ryan and Piers Lamont.

  But first she needed to discover just how much, or how little, Ryan wanted to see his nephew. To do that, she had to persuade Piers to let her stick around long enough to find out.

  At long last the door opened, and his tall figure stood there. She jumped down from the desk and hurled herself at him. He picked her up and swung her around, then put her down and held her at arm’s length, studying her for a minute. “I like the new image.”

  “Thank you.” She’d stuck with the Goth look. And she’d paid a fairy acquaintance a large amount of money to sell her a glamor that hid her wings and her pointy ears. Fitting in was so hard.

  Piers moved around her to the desk, shrugged out of his long leather coat, and tossed it on the chair. Beneath it, he wore black leather pants and a black T-shirt that stretched tight over the muscles of his broad chest. She sighed. She’d had a crush on Piers since she was old enough to know what penises were for. But she was also wise enough to know that nothing could ever happen. He was too much like her father, and no way was she exchanging one despot for another. Besides, Piers was married now. And he was happy.

  He sat in the chair behind the desk and studied her some more. She tried not to squirm under his intense stare. “Does your father know you’re here?” he asked.

  “Of course.”

  Piers snorted. “There’s no ‘of course’ about it.”

  She’d been trying not to think about her previous—extremely short—visit to the Order. There had been a little incident with a couple of hellhounds she’d inadvertently released from the Abyss. Piers hadn’t been impressed, and he’d sent her straight back home…luckily, before her dad had even realized she was gone. And the time before that…a shudder ran through her…she wasn’t even going to go there. Some things were best forgotten. “I’ve matured since last time,” she said. “And Dad knows I’m here. I’ve come for that job you promised me. Please, Piers. I’m willing to do anything. Anything at all.”

  “Hmm. Are you willing to do what you’re told?”

  That was a hard one, but she was open to new experiences. She pouted. “Honestly, I’ve grown out of my rebellious streak. I’m much more sensible now.” Why did she have the idea he wasn’t taken in by her? “Just give me a chance.”

  He steepled his fingers. “It so happens, I might have a job for you to do over the Christmas holidays.”

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

  “I haven’t told you what it is yet.”

  “Whatever it is, I’ll do it perfectly. You’ll be so impressed.”

  He smiled at that. “Sit down and I’ll tell you.” He waved her to a chair on the other side. She sat down, hands in her lap as she imagined a good employee would sit. And then she tried to hold down her impatience. She managed thirty seconds.

  “Come on, tell me, you’re driving me crazy here.”

  “I have a…friend.”

  “You do. That’s nice.”

  “His name is Ryan. John Ryan, actually. He was the human liaison for the Order.”

  She went still. Should she mention to Piers about Liam and his letter to her dad? But if she did, and Piers said no, then it would be over before it began. She couldn’t go against a direct order from Piers, not if she wanted to work here. So she just widened her eyes. “A human? Really?”

  “Not anymore. A year ago, Ryan was attacked by werewolves. He was dying and the only way to save him was to change him.”

  Uncle John—or rather Ryan as he was obviously known here—was a vampire? Now that might make things more difficult. “Isn’t that against the law? Changing someone who’s been bitten?”

  “Maybe. But there was a lot of pressure. Ryan has influential friends around here, and it’s fair to say that a few lives would have been made very difficult had we let him die. Including mine.”

  “Okay, got you so far. What’s the job?”

  “We need someone to keep an eye on Ryan over the Christmas holidays.”

  “Why? Is he crazy? Attacking people? Draining them dry? Why don’t you just lock him up until he calms down?”

  “Actually, he’s amazingly calm, considering he’s only been changed a year. Too calm.”

  “Like before the storm.”

  “Yeah. Something like that. Anyway, everyone is away for the holidays. I’m supposed to be away.”

  “What�
��s the problem with this Ryan guy? Why does he need to be watched?”

  He was quiet for a moment, as if deciding what to tell her. Interesting. “Mainly the vampire-werewolf thing. No one knows what might happen, so someone needs to be here in case—”

  “He turns into a hairy vampire. Cool.”

  Piers shuddered. “Not cool.”

  “Let me get this straight. I babysit—”

  “Don’t call it that. Especially anywhere Ryan might hear you. You’re a bodyguard.”

  That sounded much better. More official, like a proper job. Everything was falling into place. Like Fate meant her to be here. This was the perfect opportunity to get up close to this guy and suggest he visit his nephew over the festive season. Maybe Piers didn’t even need to know. They could be there and back before he returned. Obviously, the whole vampire thing made the trip a little more difficult logistically. But it was nothing she couldn’t sort out. She was resourceful. “So I watch this guy until you get back from your holidays, and afterward, you give me a proper job here.”

  “Yes. Just keep Ryan safe and prove you can be trusted.” He gave her a look. “You can be trusted, can’t you, Winter?”

  She crossed her heart. “Totally. One hundred percent. Absolutely.”

  He shook his head. “I mean it. Anything happens to him and you are on the next sleigh home. And one more thing.”

  “Yes.”

  “Ryan is a little reluctant. I’m going to sell this on the basis that you’re a friend’s daughter, away from home in the big city.”

  “Which is true.”

  “And that he’ll be looking out for you. In fact, you’ll be looking out for each other.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s a guy thing. Leave him a bit of pride.”

  John Ryan was clearly one of those men who didn’t think a woman could protect him. “Oh no, he’s an asshole, isn’t he?”

  Vampires she could deal with. Assholes were a whole different matter.

  Chapter Four

  Five days to Christmas

  Ryan came awake with the suddenness he’d become used to in the last year, as though awakening from the dead. Which he supposed was as good a description as any.

  He didn’t move. Something was different. He wasn’t alone, when he should have been. He’d definitely been alone when he locked the door to his underground apartment last night.

  Now his nostrils filled with the warm, sweet scent of fresh blood. So close. He could feel the pulse thrumming in his head. His gums ached, and his fangs lengthened, and every muscle in his body clenched tight.

  Get a grip.

  Up to now, he’d managed to refrain from drinking from anyone or anything with a pulse. That was the least he could do if he was going to go out there and try to convince people he wasn’t a monster. And it wasn’t as though there was a problem getting a hold of blood. The Order had contacts at the local blood bank who kept him stocked with O negative—his favorite.

  He blinked open his eyes. The room was bathed in a rosy glow from the lamp beside the bed. He was staring up at the ceiling, everything quiet. Yet that sweet scent surrounded him. Slowly, he pushed himself up and went still.

  A young woman sat perched on the end of the bed. Tiny, but hard to miss, she was dressed in a miniscule black leather skirt, fishnet tights, knee-high boots, and a black T-shirt that fell off one shoulder and was clearly—from the amount of skin on display—all she wore on top. She had pale skin and short black hair with streaks of crimson framing a small, pointed face. And huge silver eyes. She smiled at him, obviously not put off by the fact that his fangs were fully extended now, and he was sniffing at her as though she was the most delicious thing he had ever—

  She held a glass out to him. “I took the liberty of getting this for you. It’s from your fridge. In case you were hungry.”

  For a moment, her words didn’t make sense, then he realized the glass was full of blood. Clearly, she was aware of what he was. And equally clearly, she wasn’t concerned by the idea of being in a room with a hungry vampire, which made her either very stupid or…actually, he had no idea.

  He moved slowly, keeping a tight rein on his control, because he wanted so badly to knock the glass away, leap on her, sink his fangs into the soft skin of her throat, drink—

  “Hey, hold it together, big guy.”

  He realized he’d been almost swaying toward her, probably drooling. Classy. He closed his eyes for a second, counted to ten, opened them, took the glass from her outstretched hand, and swallowed the contents in one go. Immediately, his hunger receded, and he could think again.

  “Who are you and how did you get in here?” he asked. She didn’t look like a threat.

  She smiled. “I’m Winter. And I picked the lock.”

  “Why?”

  “I wanted to introduce myself, and I knew you wouldn’t be awake yet.” She shrugged. “Maybe I was a little impatient.”

  He shook his head and made to push the sheet away so he could get up, then realized he was naked and stayed where he was. He rubbed his hand across his chin. “But who are you?”

  “I’m your new baby—oops, bodyguard.”

  Piers had to be kidding. She was tiny. How the hell was she supposed to protect him? And what if he did lose it and go crazy—which obviously everyone was expecting, sooner or later? How the hell was she supposed to stop him?

  “This is some sort of joke, isn’t it?”

  For a second, hurt flashed in those big eyes and he felt like a complete bastard.

  She sniffed. “I’m stronger than I look.”

  The thing was, he had learned not to take people at face value. In his new world, what you saw wasn’t necessarily what you got. The fae had all sorts of glamors to hide what they were. Glamors that could be purchased for a price.

  “Are you in disguise?” he asked. Did he sound hopeful? “Are you usually…bigger?”

  She sighed. “No. This is it.”

  “What are you?” He’d become sensitive to scent since the change, and he breathed in deeply but couldn’t identify what she was. Sweet. Sweeter than a human. Maybe a little fae in there.

  She shrugged. “I’m a sort of mongrel. Not very interesting.”

  He didn’t push; some of the mixed races were sensitive. “How old are you?” Now that he looked closer, she appeared older than first impressions, maybe mid-twenties—though age was something else that could be deceptive in this new world. He could see a pair of definite womanly breasts outlined beneath the thin material of her T-shirt, full and round and… He forced himself to look up and into her face.

  She scowled then. “Old enough.”

  For what?

  As if to answer his unspoken question, she stared at him, her gaze lowering to his bare chest, then she licked her lips with a small, pink tongue. And just like that, heat shot through him, sinking down to his groin. He blinked in shock and had to fight the urge to peer under the sheet to check if he’d just gotten a boner. He hadn’t even had a twinge since he’d been changed, though Piers had said that wouldn’t last.

  Why her?

  She wasn’t his usual type, which, if he could remember that far back, ran to tall, leggy blondes with big breasts and commitment issues.

  She hitched up her T-shirt, which had fallen off one shoulder again, drawing his attention back to her breasts. Her nipples were hard little points, clearly visible, and his dick twitched, filling him with a mix of euphoria—he had been a little worried about its lack of interest recently—and guilt. After all, they had only just met.

  Maybe she was one of those sex demons. The ones who could seduce a man with a look and then drain him dry and leave him for dead.

  What a way to go.

  With that crazy thought, he decided that maybe it was time to get up and get dressed, find Piers, and ask him what the hell he thought he was up to. “Could you…uh…leave for a minute while I get dressed?”

  She smiled, then shrugged. “Sorry. Piers said
I’m supposed to watch you.”

  “I somehow doubt Piers meant for you to watch me in bed.” Maybe it was a setup, and she was some sort of early Christmas present. His dick liked that idea, as well. He was in big trouble.

  At that moment, there was a commotion at the door and Piers strolled in, followed closely by his wife, Roz, a pretty brunette with short, spiky hair, a sweet dimpled smile, and a scary badass attitude.

  Piers stopped just inside the door and sniffed the air, then frowned and cast Ryan a suspicious look. He had the sudden urge to defend himself, to say he hadn’t touched her. It wasn’t his fault… Instead, he kept his mouth shut.

  Piers turned his attention to his visitor. “What the hell are you doing in here, Winter?”

  “I wanted to start work.”

  Piers shook his head. “Go talk to Roz for a minute,” he said to her. “I need to speak to Ryan alone.”

  She pursed her lips, then jumped off the bed. “Of course.” She was tiny, even with the four-inch heels. He watched as she sashayed across the room—she had a cute ass—and disappeared out of the bedroom with Roz. He turned back to Piers, who was still watching him.

  “So, you’ve met Winter. I’d planned to introduce you this evening.”

  Ryan didn’t know how to ask this, but he had to. It was best to know what he was dealing with. “She’s not an…incubus, is she?” When Piers looked blank, he continued. “You know…one of those sex demons?”

  Piers glared. “For a start, an incubus is male. You mean a succubus. And no, of course she isn’t.” Then he frowned. “What did she do?” He sounded resigned.

  Ryan shrugged. “Nothing.”

  His eyes narrowed. “What did you do?”

  Got a boner for the first time in forever. “Absolutely nothing.”

  “Then I’ll forget you asked that question. Winter is your bodyguard until after the holidays. Then we’ll talk again.”

  “What the hell is she supposed to do if I decide to lose it and go on the rampage? She’s a goddamned midget.”