Please note. This story features characters from my YA Vampire books, The Maura DeLuca Trilogy. While largely stand-alone, this tale may contain a few details unfamiliar to readers who have not read Rising Tide, Undertow and Riptide and does contain spoilers.

 

“Maura… Maura?” Then, more forcefully, “Maura! Wake up.” I felt a slight shake, administered by cold hands which pulled me, a tad painfully, from the warmth of the dream in which I’d been immersed.

“Mo-om, come on. Five more minutes, please.”

“Merry Christmas, Maura.” This voice was decidedly not my mother’s. This was the voice from the dream I’d been having a couple of precious moments before. Ron?

I shot straight up in bed. Millicent stood closer, right by my pillow. The temperature of those hands told me she must’ve been the one who’d shaken me awake. She raised a thin, perfect ebony brow in annoyance. “Well, I wish I were important enough to inspire that kind of reaction.”

I pushed forward onto my knees, from my seated position, twining my arms and legs around her body. “Oh, Millicent, you know I love you, Auntie!” I covered the marble-surface of her face in kisses with greatly exaggerated exuberance.

Her eyes rolled in Ron’s direction, where he stood, calmly smirking, in the doorway. “Ron, will you be a dear and peel her off me, please?”

Her request was completely unnecessary. As soon as my boyfriend moved into close enough proximity, I leapt, like a chimp changing trees—although I’m positive chimpanzees did so much more gracefully—my arms slipping free of his neck, as I hadn’t quite executed my move flawlessly. Luckily, Ron caught me with impressive agility, one hand securing the small of my back, the other supporting my weight by gripping, quite gentlemanly, my thigh well below its midline, closer toward my knee. Not only did he know Millicent was watching us like a proverbial hawk, but he also held the highest respect for my father’s no-hanky-panky mandate. I could, literally, become a vampire at any moment, and apparently, any changeling unlucky enough to transform with a fetus growing inside would be forever frozen in such a state, doomed to the mental decline into insanity brought on by such a condition. My father had told me he’d seen it happen several times. Not that I was in any rush. I was wise enough beyond my short years to know that once my and Ron’s relationship crossed over such a profound line, we could never go back to the way things had been previously. I was quite content to remain in this place where he valued me highly for nothing other than my intellect and personality.

When I locked my ankles together over the depression at the base of his spine, his hand left my leg, ruffling up through my hair to crush my face gently into his shoulder in a way which reminded me of the Christmas a year prior, especially when he whispered, “Merry Christmas, Maura,” into my ear.

I didn’t feel the complete joy I’d felt before when I’d known my mother and father had waited just a few feet down the hall, but the momentary twinge of loss I suffered lessened when I remembered my Aunt Aldiva’s disappearance meant I could both see and hear my parents over Skype for Christmas. It would almost be like we wouldn’t skip spending a Christmas together. Of course, I’d only spent the last one with my father, as opposed to the seventeen previous I’d spent with my mother.

I withdrew from Ron’s embrace enough so I could focus my eyes on his nearly-brown ones. “Merry Christmas.” I inclined my head slightly to the side, my lips drawn to his as if by some irresistible preternatural pull…

“Ahh…em,” Millicent cleared her throat softly—a completely unnecessary action for a vampire. My first impulse, while experiencing a strong flash of déjà vu, was to open my mouth and protest, but I fought to remember the small miracle of all of us, excepting Aldiva and Gregor, escaping the wrath of the elves. Such fortune had enabled most of my extended vampire family to spend the Christmas holidays together—even if, sadly, my parents weren’t among their numbers. I knew I should be thankful for every happy, peaceful moment…and even any tense, uncomfortable ones. “Let’s go see what Santa left under the tree,” were the words I chose to utter instead.

“Well, hello there, Beautiful!” My Uncle Alin’s greeting made me blush—a telltale human indicator I was sure I wouldn’t miss after I’d become a full vampire.

“Uncle! Auntie Crina! I’m so happy to see you both. Is that Tik behind you?”

“Sure is.” Tik’s excitement danced in his eyes, but my ever-polite cousin remained stoic in form until his ‘parents’ had crossed the threshold before grabbing me up and spinning me around in an embrace that made my head spin—under the ever-watchful, slightly-disapproving eye of his mate, Eva.

“How are you…and Eva?” I asked once he’d set me down, and I could draw breath again.

“I’m sure you have plenty of other things to worry about…like the well-being of your aunt and uncle left behind in the elves’ rainforest.” The icy glare cast by Eva’s azure eyes was enough to freeze me to the spot where I stood in the foyer. Alin actually growled at her, a low, dangerous rumble that called goosebumps to the surface of all my limbs and prompted my turncoat cousin to slink off to stare at the Alps-like formation of presents stretching out from under the tree to encompass half the room. The pile grew as each Vancouver Island cousin passed by.

“How long are all of you staying again?” I asked Alin.

“The whole weekend, Lil’ Max. Why?”

“I think we might need the whole week to open all those.”

“Well,” Crina interjected, “then, we’d better get started.”

“Just as soon as I have my…”

“Coffee,” Millicent finished for me, shoving a warm mug with brightly-colored stuffed stockings ringing its smooth outer surface, into my waiting hands. “I made it just the way you like it,” she told me, shooting Ron a look full of bloody implication. I watched his olive tone fade slightly toward pistachio as he hurried into the kitchen to pour his own cup without any unwanted vampire intervention.

Even as I sipped at my mug of overindulgent Christmas comfort, Eva’s comments pinged against my insides like rock-hard pellets from an ice storm. I felt the weight of Gregor’s absence like an albatross every day, and on Christmas, its weight seemed to grow heavier…exponentially.

The cheer in Aoife’s voice briefly shattered my overlying shell of sadness when she caught me up in a crushing hug of her own, her enthusiasm cracking a few of the vertebrae in my spine. “Sorry, Maura…” she stepped back quickly, the sudden release almost sending me crashing to the stone under our feet. “Sometimes I forget ya aren’t quite vampire yet. And besides, it just feels like it’s been so long.”

“I agree. It’s not easy to do without you on a day-to-day basis, Eef. Any of you, really. I think Maxwell is going to have to buy a bigger house once I’ve turned.”

Oscar laughed lightly as he slid next to Aoife after entering the front hall, his arm darting around her waist so he could pull her close. “He already owns the largest in North Van. And I think you’d be hard-pressed to persuade us island dwellers to leave our little piece of paradise. Especially Tik. I don’t think he could function without the ability to step out his front door, and then right into the ocean.” Silaluk, entering the house behind the pair, hand-in-hand with Heath, nodded in solemn agreement.

However, my focus had stalled, latching onto the words of the first sentence Oscar had spoken. “My dad owns the biggest house in North Vancouver?” I squealed in disbelief. I’d been driven nearly mad by curiosity, wondering what my, perhaps, future home—I wasn’t sure whether we’d keep our smaller family house after I completed my change—looked like inside and out. Several of my extended family members had hinted at its opulence on more than one occasion.

“Yes, but it really belongs to all of us.” Millicent had slipped up behind me so quietly the sound of her voice right over my shoulder made me jump. “Even though he could comfortably make the payments with his book royalties, with all of us chipping in, he has more left over with which to play. There are so many exotic locales he wants to show to you and your mother. He has put money aside for the trips for years. And of course, he wants to show you the homeland…Romania…and all of its secrets.” I noticed she pressed her lips firmly together after she’d let that last bit slip.

I felt my feet become unencumbered by my weight as Ron’s encircling arms lifted me from the light-colored, glossy tile. “I think we should all go see what’s in those stockings.”

“Good idea,” I replied with the very little breath I had left.

Stocking stuffing had been fun. So much fun. When I’d been growing up, stockings were all about those little things one would never break down and buy for themselves. A favorite ornament. A kitchen gadget. All under $15.00. If one wanted to give someone a pair of diamond earrings, those did not end up in a stocking, despite their pocket-sized status. Those were the rules in my house, and in preparation for the current Christmas, everyone had been instructed to abide by them.

“Ooooh, a melon-baller!” Should I have been embarrassed by how genuinely excited I’d felt about that gift?

“You may as well eat melon while you can,” Ron whispered in my ear, reminding me why my excitement was completely warranted.

“Oh, wow! Look at all these fishing hooks.” It was now Tik’s turn to gush enthusiastically. I hoped the sentiment was genuine, as it had been me who’d purchased the gleaming, new fishhooks. A subject I truly didn’t know much about—I’d relied heavily on the opinion of the Bass Pro associate in Tsawwassen to guide the selection of my gifts.

“They’re really okay?” I queried automatically.

“Perfect,” Tik replied with sincere conviction.

Millicent withdrew a Manic Panic “Vampire Kiss” lipstick, a red leaning heavily toward black. “Oh, Maura, you know exactly what I need.” Whew.

A little later, when we’d progressed to boxed, wrapped presents from under and far beyond the reach of the tree branches, tension gripped at me like a medieval torturer when I spied Eva opening my gift…from the farthest point across from me the space would allow. Everyone else in the room, excepting Ron, had no need to draw breath, but mine came to a halt involuntarily.

“Oh…” The small sound reverberated in my ears, my vampiric hearing operating at full capacity. In the next moment, I discovered to what extent Eva could lie—not only to those around her but to herself as well. As I watched her arms draw inward, slightly, they extended outward again just as quickly in a gesture of rejection. “My doll had blue eyes. These are an ugly brown.” My willful cousin tossed my gift aside, its delicate and expensive porcelain features cracking when its head struck the floor. My eyes filled with bloody tears.

It was Ron who rose in indignation. “I saw you,” he called out calmly, but firmly. “You started to hug that doll from Maura, but then you threw it aside. Do you know how much time she spent looking for one of those? She was trying to replace the one Susie broke, and you just tossed her gift aside like it meant nothing.” Was I the only one who could sense the river of rage coursing just beneath his deceptively-calm exterior?

My own undercurrent was one of fear. Besides myself, Ron was the most fragile being in the house. Despite my half-vampire state, I steeled my body to fight when Eva rose from her chair—my missing mother’s office chair. I couldn’t help but feel, in that moment, my cousin had contaminated the surface always formerly reserved for Caelyn.

I’d risen to my feet without sending the directive to stand to my muscles. The feral growl scraping its way up the walls of my throat continued to issue forth, despite the touch of both Ron and Millicent on either side at my wrists. Not a single cell in my body would be dissuaded from defending my Cuplare Sânge mate.

“Sit, Maura,” Millicent cautioned. But I failed to heed her warning until I caught sight of Tik rising, two sectional couch cushions down from me. As his fingers balled into angry fists, the protest in my throat died away, instinctively, as if my body knew her Cuplare Sânge mate was the one best equipped to diffuse Eva.

“How dare you?” Tik’s whisper emerged menacingly. “Maura spent not only a great deal of money but her time and attention to procure a special gift for you. One she knew you’d lost. As far as I’m concerned, My Love, you can find another bed in which to sleep tonight.”

It was as if Eva shrank in on herself. “My Love, it’s Christmas Day. Surely you won’t…”

“I don’t care what day it is when you insult a member of our family—especially our Prin—our Maura. You are banished from our bed this night. May the solitude teach you a valuable lesson, one which keeps the arrangement from becoming permanent.” Tik’s knit brows called to mind the image of ebony-laden storm clouds. Eva scooped the Paranoia Doll from the floor, hoping to earn some shred of redemption.

“Don’t worry. I’ll glue her face back together.” Tik assured me. I reclaimed my seat between Ron and Millicent in silence. The defeat written into Eva’s expression was enough karmic resolution to satisfy my injured heart, but Millicent picked that particular moment, conveniently, to stroll by and wrench free a considerable fistful of Eva’s raven hair. Of course, the lock grew back in immediately, but healing hurt, and Eva’s expression broadcast her agony from the pained glint in her eyes to the emotionally-driven descent of her fangs. When she blinked, her lashes sprayed near-microscopic flecks of bloodtears across the curve of both cheekbones. Fear sprang to life in the azure globes shining from her face, and she whimpered audibly as Millicent doubled back to cross in front of her, warning written into every facial feature and terse line of her body as she slunk by my suddenly-penitent cousin.

“Well, Ron, I do believe you are going to become quite the formidable vampire.” Millicent had obviously been impressed by his stand against Eva’s cruel display, but her words of encouragement released an off-key chord of terror inside my heart. The possibility of such an outcome had never found its way into our topics of conversation during the very brief span of his return. And I’d felt not even the most infinitesimal desire to broach the topic yet.

“Let’s open some more presents. Yes. Let me find one for you, Ron.” I rose and flitted toward the outrageous, sprawling pile like a startled dragonfly fleeing the lash of tacky frog tongue. Her words were just as sticky a trap…surely, she had to realize such a fact. I tossed one of her smaller presents at her head to drive the point home, failing to connect of course, but as Millicent snatched the ribboned package from the air, I thought I saw realization flare across her dark irises. She chuckled out an uncharacteristically-nervous sound, shrugged apologetically. When I chanced a glance at Ron, his gaze held me for one of those moments which seem drawn out into forever with the weight of some message impossible for me to interpret without the added benefit of spoken word. So, I pried my eyes free, committing them to the search of the three letters making up his name on one of the gilding-bordered gift tags.

My eyes finally found his name, but I didn’t realize before I’d hefted the slightly heavy box that his name was scrawled into the wrong slot. That present was for me from him, the box portrait oriented—more tall than wide. I shook the package. Was that sloshing coming from inside?

“Maura!” Ron was holding up my phone, turning the face out toward me so I could see the light-blue of the Skype screen. The round icon in the middle held the smiling image of my father, his visage a nearly equal combination of light and dark. I almost dropped the precious package.

“It’s Maxwell!” Alin had risen imperceptibly from his seat next to Ron on the plush, cream-colored sectional, his tone imbued with the same level of excitement. Bloodtears converged along the edge of my lower lashes as if my father’s image were capable of summoning them on sight. I set the purple-papered, blue-ribboned box aside as carefully as my shaking hands would allow.

*Dad… Possibly Mom.* The upside to a missing Aldiva—besides my near-guaranteed safety—was a more-available set of parents. Maxwell had promised he would attempt to subdue my newly-made-vampire mother enough to permit a Christmas call. I tripped and nearly fell into Uncle Alin’s arms in my haste to reach my cell.

He shored me up in his strong grip, even though I’d mostly recovered. “There ya go, Lil Max.”

With trembling hands, I took the phone from Ron. “He-he-hello.”

“Maura! My Dearest Daughter! Merry Christmas.” It seemed impossible for my father’s exuberance to remain contained inside the tiny rectangle of my phone behind the screen.

“Dad! Dad, Dad.” I kissed the screen, love infiltrating every cell I’d inherited from him and my darling mother. I felt self-conscious in the overfull room a moment later, even though Eva hadn’t attempted the slightest of giggles.

“Oh, Maura, how your mother and I wish we could be with you on this day. Please, try to enjoy the festivities with your extended family and focus, yet again, on the fact that our future celebrations will follow beyond count. Birthdays, Christmases…” His voice trailed off, unconvinced by his own argument. I knew in that moment he felt the loss of this day as much as I.

“Maura…” That voice sounded from a place unavailable to my eyes.

“Cae…Cae…Mom.”

She appeared. I was happy beyond measure to find her appearance much changed. The last time I’d laid eyes upon my mother, her hair had exploded around her head in a whirlwind of disarray. Her face a crisscrossed mismatch of bloody tear-trails leading to nowhere relevant.

“Maura, my Maura.” Was it possible for someone to be familiar yet dissimilar at the same time? Her cat-green eyes were brighter…like someone had pulled a string and illuminated the bulb screwed in behind them…but the wildness swimming along their surface did not belong to my mother. My Caelyn had always remained calm, carefully controlled.

The Caelyn before me shifted her eyes, left-right left-right, finding images and meaning in some far-off region I didn’t seem to occupy.

“Mom, Mom, Mom…look at me. Look at me.” I squeezed my eyes shut when I said the words.

When my eyelids pried their way open, working past my fear, I found her focusing diligently, drawing upon a wealth of willpower, on my image at her end of the too-small screen. Still, her eyes related the fact, glaringly obvious, that her mind wandered to at least a thousand various locales. “It’s okay, Mom.” I tried to understand how hard the transformation must be for her. Who was I to ask her to think about such a small thing as Christmas when she was struggling to adapt to life as a newborn immortal, striving to quell a hunger driven by a force like a tsunami? I suddenly remembered her thirst would be harder to control since she was human instead of one of The Born. When I thought back to the drive which had urged me to bite Ron while visiting the Christmas gardens a year ago, I felt true pity for her situation. If the impulses lashing through her body felt any stronger, I couldn’t imagine how she might control her thirst.

“Summon all your strength, My Love. It is our Maura.” Nearly a year had passed. Was she truly no closer to returning to me?

Her eyes seemed to focus for thirty precious seconds. I’d take those thirty seconds. “Maura?”

“Mom?”

“Merry Christmas, Baby.” The only one I hoped we’d ever spend apart. “I’m working hard…to come back home.”

“I know, Mom. It’s okay because very soon we’ll all be together for forever. Forever, Mom.”

My eyes begged, and she answered by bringing her hand to the screen. “Next year, Maura. Next year and then forever.”

“Are you sure you’re ready to go back down?” Ron patted at my eyes to dry my bloodtears again, the hem of his dark-blue t-shirt taking on a crimson tinge.

“The turkey does smell divine. I really shouldn’t…”

“Maura! You shouldn’t keep Crina waiting. She spent half the day on that turkey.”

“That’s just what I was thinking, Tik. Everything smells so delicious.” And I was the only human in the house besides one other, so all that cooking had been to feed Ron and me alone.

“I know you like pumpkin…for the moment…so I made a pie.”

“Oh Tik, thank you so much.” I pried my body from my bed.

Ron attempted to lighten the mood. “You didn’t put any fish in it did you?” Tik rolled his eyes and punched Ron playfully in the arm, making sure the blow was light enough to inflict no real pain.

“Hey man, don’t be a jerk. You know I’m an excellent cook.”

*Mmmmm,* I could smell the cinnamon…without a trace of halibut or cod. “I think it’s time we went down for dinner.”

“You’re sure?” Ron queried, worry swimming in his eyes.

“I think I should start making the gravy,” Millicent called out with exaggerated volume.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure.”

“Oh my god, it’s beautiful!” I wanted to drop my fangs and sink them into the beautifully-browned bird.

It turned out that Ron possessed far better manners than I. “What are all of you going to eat?” he asked as his eyes roamed over the table covered in meats, vegetables and sweets…without a single drop of blood anywhere in sight.

“Oh, we never hunt on Christmas Eve or Day,” Oscar interjected.

“Call us old fashioned,” Alin added, “but we don’t want to ruin the holiday for anyone.”

Shamed realization overtook me. “I can’t sit here and pig out on this feast if none of the rest of you have anything to eat.” I went to Caelyn’s china cabinet and removed ten crystal champagne flutes. “For Christmas, I’ll give you all a taste of your…umm,er…princess.” How I hated that label.

“No!” Ron surged forward, intent on stopping me.

“You read his diaries.” Millicent held my love back, quite effortlessly, with a fingertip.

“I did.”

“And…you…want to uphold his tradition?”

“I do. From what I read, it brings unity to us all. I’m sure he offers the same to my mother and the other two of you who chose not to be with us tonight.”

“Mina and Jonathon…” Millicent began.

“Who are fiercely loyal to your father,” Elias finished in explanation.

“Don’t get me wrong. I wouldn’t expect them to spend the holiday with someone they don’t even know yet! I hope I do get to meet both of them soon.” I lifted the knife meant to carve the turkey and carved my forearm instead, gritting my teeth against a wince. I filled each glass representing a family member in equal limited measure—I had no intention of losing consciousness on Christmas Day. Each one would ingest my love, well wishes and good tidings offered for the new year to come along with my blood. A vampire tradition. My newly-adopted tradition. I’d slashed my arm with the confident knowledge of the run of my ulnar artery—thanks to my Human Biology class. My royal blood poured forth into every glass; I could offer no greater Christmas gift to my family.

“Maura, this is not a tradition you need to carry forward…yet, your blood smells so sweet.” I could see the willpower withering in Millicent’s eyes.

Alin served as deciding factor. “Royal blood to be shared by all. Maura has chosen to feed her family, even with the resolve of a human. An uncommonly-generous gift which will embolden us all in the difficult days of rescue to come, cementing our bond to her as well to assist her during the struggles she must face after her inevitable turn.”

“Here, here,” Millicent conceded. She inhaled deeply the contents of her glass, prompting a rapid drip of elixir from her fangtips. Gathering the liquid on a wadded cotton towel, she pressed the miracle to my wound in a fervent effort to bring my bleeding to a halt. “Do not tax yourself, my irreplaceable sister,” she warned with both her eyes and her tone. She’d put a pot of coffee on to brew with indiscernible movements as I’d made my offering, pouring my oversized Vampire Knight mug half full from the blood bag before the water had completed its run over the grounds. “Did that also alleviate your pain?” she queried, her eyes delving into mine for the truth.

“I’m fine, Auntie,” I swore with complete conviction. “Go finish the toast. Everyone is waiting for you.” They all stood behind us in the dining room, waiting with the semblance of calm, but impatience danced in more than one set of eyes, and I picked up on the rush of deepened breaths.

Ron busied himself with pouring the finished coffee. Even with the addition of its unpalatable ingredient—for him, anyway—I could see he had less trouble fixing his eyes on the disagreeable task at hand than witnessing the almost reverent moment of vampire ceremony carried out at his back.

“I can’t move!” I protested, patting my painfully-full belly.

“But there are so many more presents to open,” Tik reminded me.

“And you haven’t opened mine yet,” Ron added.

“Well then, what are we waiting for?” I exclaimed wobbling as fast as I was able over to the couch.

“Crina, should I open the wine?” I heard Uncle Alin ask. Another beverage they must be fond of sipping from time to time.

“Do I get some too?” I asked hopefully.

Millicent sidled over to us, toting two goblets. “You are not yet old enough,” she told me, sagely. One of the goblets was handed off to Ron.

“Hey! Neither is he,” I protested in a shrill voice.

“Do you forget we are in Canada? The legal drinking age is nineteen.”

“Oh yeah,” I grumbled. Still six months to go. She laughed at my expression, a sound like night folding in on itself. “Here you go.” I wrapped my fingers around the stem eagerly. “It is Christmas, after all. Just do not…”
“Tell Dad. Don’t worry; my lips are sealed. I gulped at the liquid and fought to hide my initial reaction. I’d expected the burgundy liquid to be sweeter, but I didn’t want to ruin the moment of being included in the adults-only club.

“Like it?” she asked, one eyebrow arched in question.

“Mmm-hmmm,” I responded. Ron chuckled knowingly beside me, so I ground my elbow into his ribs until he yelped.

Tik laughed as he crashed down on the couch beside him, being careful to hold his goblet steady. “She made you whimper like a baby werewolf.”

When his earthy eyes widened, I said, “There’s no such thing as werewolves. Maxwell already told me.”

“Oh, did he?” It was Elias’ turn to laugh, like Millicent his was a rich, dark utterance.

“What was it he told you exactly?” The amusement Millicent’s one made me odd uncertainty creep over me. I’d experienced the same feeling upon meeting Maxwell, like my own life was an unfamiliar place.

“Something about humans not being able to turn into something completely different, like another species of animal.”

“Ahhh, your father and his little twists of the truth. He does sometimes enjoy showing you what is held in the right hand while keeping the left one clenched behind his back.”

“Come on, Millie,” Alin said rolling the dark glitter of his eyes.

She lifted a finger. “This is a perfect example. Yes, Maura, while it is true humans do not turn into wolves, werewolves do exist. They are purely wolf, but their DNA was altered by Vlad Tepes so that they joined the ranks of the immortal. Of course, they did not realize at first he did so to serve his own dark purposes…” She paused and glanced in Alin’s direction. “But of course that is a tale for another night. There are gifts to open.” She turned her back on my uncle’s glaring disapproval to dig through a small mountain of boxes identically wrapped in shiny black paper and tied with blood-red ribbon. A smile, one oddly missing her usual trace of smirk, played across her lips as she chose one to place on the coffee table before me.

“Wow! It’s heavy,” I exclaimed when I tried to lift the package.

“I know how you feel about extravagance and extraneous expense, so my present leans more toward the practical side.”

“I’m sure I’ll love it. What is it, a rock collection?”

“Not quite.” The smirk had returned.

“Books!”

“Yes. Some of those YA novels you said we should read together and a few of the classics you had not collected yet.”

“Wow, all hardcovers too…and is this a signed Stephen King?” I folded the book lovingly into my chest.

“Yes, he is one author you must add to your reading list.”

“Thank you so much, Aun…” Every head in the room turned toward the tap-tap-tap at the kitchen window.

“Did someone just knock at the kitchen window?” Ron asked.

“Bet it was just a squirrel,” I reasoned. As soon as I finished speaking, whatever-it-was acted to prove me wrong.

Tap-tap-tap at the glass pane of the back door. Two somethings? My squirrel theory had suddenly taken on a fatal amount of water.

“Ron, why don’t you take Maura upstairs to her room while I take a stroll around the backyard?” Alin already stood at the door, his hand on the latch.

Millicent decided not to wait for Ron to react, tossing me over her shoulder and zipping up the stairs before I could catch my breath or Ron registered my absence. He followed us in what my brain registered as slow motion after the rapidity of Millicent’s ascent.

“What’s wrong? Why is Alin so freaked out over a couple of taps at the window?”

“I’m sure he’s just being cautious, Maura,” Ron assured me, running a warm hand over my hair. I wasn’t completely convinced by his words as Millicent stood in the far corner of the room in a state of high alert, looking for all the world like a dog entranced by a high-pitched whistle.

“Do you hear something?” She didn’t answer, placed a pale, slender finger over her black-lipsticked mouth and moved to the oversized window at the back of my bedroom where she listened for a full minute before easing the pane up slowly, quietly. I listened as hard as I could, the absolute silence piercing my brain like the cold steel of an icepick.

I heard Ron say, “Maura…” right before all the chaos erupted. Whether he was trying to warn me of impending danger or merely offer a lifeline of comfort to heft me above the knotted clouds of tension oppressing the air in the room, I couldn’t say.

My eyes had become riveted to the window where black and blue blurred together amidst the spray of shattered glass invading my room. Susie, my once best friend and adopted sister, clad in baby-blue pajamas, perched atop Millicent’s chest, the element of surprise her most formidable weapon—besides the twin daggers that were her fangs. Those, she had embedded in the soft concave right below Millicent’s collarbone, draining away the power in her limbs with large gulps of blood...blood I’d supercharged with my own. Millicent had once confided that every time she ‘tasted’ me her strength increased at least twofold.

“Get out of here,” I whispered to Ron. “Now!” I screamed when he froze as if permanently affixed to my black-and-red coverlet. I chastised myself for being so loud, but when I turned my head, I found Susie still busied herself with devouring my Auntie.

My tragically-fragile love stood, mirroring the motion of my own rise to my feet. Shock animated the features of his face when I shoved him toward the doorway with all the force I could tap into. When he lost his balance, I was thankful for the springy plush of the carpet matching the comforter and curtains, racing behind him to grip firmly under his arms. The advancement of my father’s vampire contribution to my DNA, fueled by a fresh gush of adrenaline, allowed me to clear the door before his vehement protest found voice.

He did jump up pretty fast, shouting, “Maura, NO!” as I slammed the door in his face. I turned the lock, twisted the deadbolt and slid home the thick steel bolt Maxwell had insisted on installing on everyone’s bedroom doors.

“Maura, let me in right now!” *Nope, not gonna do that.* But I could hear rest of the vampires in the house turning their attention to his frantic plea and wondered if the door would hold. At least I had saved the only—nearly—100% human in the house from grave harm…maybe even death. Amanda’s face materialized behind my eyes.

“Susie, stop it! Leave Millicent alone.” I rushed her like a linebacker, throwing my shoulder into ribs that felt to be carved of stone. I bounced a short distance away following the sharp crack of bone that sent a bolt of pain as vibrant as a streak of lightning searing down the length of my arm and up into my neck. Between my failed attempts to swallow my screams, I heard Millicent calling my name, her voice reduced to a weak wisp of panic.

Stars fireworked before my stretched-wide eyes, Susie’s blood-smeared face becoming backdrop to the exploding, multi-hued lights. I felt her sully my earlobe with Millicent’s stolen blood when she whispered gutturally, “Remember when you turned me into this? Didn’t you bite me here?” Before she sank her daggers into my carotid, she cleared her fangs of pain-alleviating elixir with her fingers, in order to make me suffer as she had on that ill-fated night. She drew heavily at my blood, causing the colors to fade away into a dark stretch of velvety, moonless night. “And here” Her mouth darted down to pierce the inside of my elbows, each in swift succession, then my wrists, leaving behind stabbing, throbbing pulses of agony. She took in a pretty hefty gulp of me with each bite…and I couldn’t have yet replaced the full volume of what I’d given as gift earlier in the evening. The velvet folded over and enshrouded me, the sharp rumble of Alin’s voice thundering across its surface like an incoming storm…

“Susie.” My voice climbed up my raw throat like it was wearing metal-studded golf cleats.

None of the blurry figures in the room seemed to notice, so I was sure it had failed and fallen away before it could emerge.

“So, what do we do?” That was Millicent’s voice, sure and strong, sounding fully-recovered, for which I felt thankful.

“Our little escapee is bound and ready to be shipped back to the island. Maxwell said we had to…” Alin’s voice had been stripped of all its former holiday warmth.

“Alin, you cannot take her sister away from her. They will mend the hard feelings between them…eventually. This is one request you absolutely must honor.”

“I suppose.” His response came out as a gruff bark. “Are you sure you took back what you needed from her, at least?”

“And then some.” Her chuckle was like the fall of crows’ feathers. “She should give you and Crina no trouble on your return journey.”

Oh no. They were leaving?

“But you’re sure Valdamir did not escape along with her?”

Alin did manage a guffaw when she asked him that. “I dosed that troublemaker pretty heavily. I doubt he’ll open those eyes of his before noon tomorrow.”

“Val is the whole reason she got out.” Tik had entered the room. “When I questioned Susie, she finally admitted she found him passed out at the entrance to a tunnel he had dug with his bare hands underneath the cottage. I would imagine he’s been using it to get out for a while now.”

“Well, I can guarantee he won’t be using it anytime in the future, near or distant.” The anger in Alin’s voice made fear for my mischievous friend rise up in me like a storm-summoned wave.

“Don’t…Val…” Only two words of my request were able to break free.

“She is awake.” Millicent was suddenly on the floor with me, cradling my head in her lap. “Drink.” She punctured her own wrist to make access easier for my unpredictable fangs. I thought for the thousandth time how much better things would have to be once I’d fully transformed into a vampire, as my blood-starved body eagerly took in the still-warm nourishment she offered.

“Put her to sleep until we return…and then make her forget.”

“Alin, no!” Millicent protested.

“Maxwell’s mandate, not mine. He says this Christmas is hard enough on her, what with him and her mother being away. He wants her to remember a happy day with her new family. Just take away this unpleasant business with Susie…”

“I already erased Ron’s memory of it,” Tik offered in an attempt to be helpful.

More vampires messing around inside poor Ron’s head. I wouldn’t have it. And they certainly weren’t going to do it to me. “No! Stay out of our heads,” I rasped, grappling feebly with Millicent’s restraining hands.

“It might just be the best thing for you, Dear Maura.” Rare blood tears filmed Millicent’s lower eyelid.

“Let it be on me,” Alin grunted as he knelt before me. The creamed-coffee color of his eyes captured me before I could close mine in escape. Brown became amber, a light leading me down a path I had no other choice but to follow.

“Wake up, Maura.”

“Auntie?”

“You grew too tired to open all of your gifts last night. Your uncle had to carry you to bed. Do you remember?”

“Oh yeah.” My head felt fuzzy with deep sleep, from which she’d roused me. “All that turkey. Must’ve knocked me out.”

“That or three pieces of Tik’s pumpkin pie.” She smiled at me then, but the customary teasing was missing from the expression. Was that a touch of sorrow I saw in her eyes?

“What’s wrong, Auntie Millicent?”

“Nothing at all, My Dear.” Her pause carried a strange weight. Her sparkling onyx eyes flicked back up to mine. “Just tell me, truthfully now, did you enjoy your first Christmas with us…completely?”

I stretched forward so I could encircle her with my arms. “Completely, Auntie. I promise I enjoyed every single minute.”

 

Look for the first book in the next trilogy featuring Maura and her family, Red Tide: Dangerous Waters, coming in 2018

New to Maura’s world? You can read the Readers’ Favorite Gold Medal winner, Rising Tide: Dark Innocence, for FREE on every platform