Page 4 of Silent Nights and Vampire Lights

“It means a new identity,” he said patiently. “You’ll be alive, but no one will find you.”

It sounded too good to be true. But what choice did I have? “Fine,” I said finally. “But no nibbling on me. I mean it.”

“Deal.” His grin returned, this time more amused than menacing. “Shall we?”

God help me. What had I just agreed to?

CHAPTER 3

NICHOLAS

As if I’d use her as a blood bag—her words, not mine—or meals on wheels. That would be reckless, not to mention insulting. It wasn’t that I couldn’t control myself; I could. Contrary to popular belief, most vampires don’t drain their victims for sport or sustenance unless they’re starving. Only the truly twisted indulge in that sort of barbarity.

I’d spent decades fighting to clean up that mess—breaking up those grotesque “parties” and ensuring humans were safe from my kind. And what did I get for it? Gratitude? No. Just stakes aimed at my heart and a never-ending supply of pitchforks. Humans were predictable like that, lumping all vampires into one bloody stereotype.

Father had warned me about this long ago. “Humans will never trust us, Nicholas. They’ve hunted us, witches, shifters and other monsters for centuries. They aren’t open-minded creatures.” And after nearly a hundred years of trying to prove him wrong, here I was, summarily exhausted and, admittedly, a little disillusioned.

The letter from my mother had been both a relief and a burden. I wasn’t eager to face Father, admit he’d been right, orendure the suffocating politics of the clan or Grimm Mawr. But I needed peace, even if I had to swallow my pride to find it.

Then there was Holly Winters, who complicated everything. Sweet, naïve Holly, who stubbornly refused to be my blood companion or servant. Without that bond, my protection over her would only go so far when we reached my family’s domain. She’d be fair game. The idea of her in Grimm Mawr, surrounded by predators who wouldn’t hesitate to claim her… no. I’d have to send her away before we arrived. But first, I’d keep my promise and make sure she was safe with a new identity.

When we finally reached the motel, the first rays of sunlight were already threatening the horizon. Too close. December’s short days and weak sun offered some grace, but not enough. Holly stayed obediently in the room, as I’d commanded, while I succumbed to the pull of daylight.

Even in my sleep, I was aware of her. The soft hum of her voice as she sang along to holiday music on the television. The scent of her—warm and human—permeating the space. She didn’t leave the room, proving she wasn’t as reckless as most humans I’d encountered. Small blessings.

When the sun finally set, I woke to find her hovering over me, her blue eyes wide and curious. Before I could speak, she screamed and bolted to the other bed.

“What were you looking at?” I demanded, sitting up slowly.

Her cheeks flushed, and she stammered, “I-I was just wondering when you’d wake up. The sun went down hours ago, and you hadn’t moved.”

I arched a brow. “The sun hasn’t fully set. My body knows exactly when it rises and falls. I wake and sleep accordingly.”

She tilted her head like an inquisitive bird. “So you can’t control it? Like… narcolepsy?”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “It’s not an illness. It’s biology. And I don’t have to sleep.”

She cocked her head. “You can stay awake?”

“We require sleep much like you do. But when the sun rises and sets, it forces our body into a form of hibernation to protect us from the harmful effects of the sun, though we do not need to sleep during our hibernation. Many of our kind choose to sleep. It’s a process, similar to your… monthly cycle, only daily.”

Her nose wrinkled in disgust. “Okay, let’s not talk about that. You’re my boss. That’s weird.”

“I’m not your boss,” I corrected. “You’re my companion.”

“Nor your blood bank,” she shot back. “You hired me to drive, and my payment is a new identity. Boss. Employee.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” I muttered, standing and stretching.

She perked up, grabbing a notepad and a map. “Speaking of driving, I planned our route for tonight! Did you know there’s a cute little town on the way with the best Christmas market? I thought we could stop there for the day and check it out.”

I stared at her, dumbfounded. “I’m not on a Christmas tour. I need to get home before Yule.” Hell, I didn’t even like Christmas.

“It’s on the way,” she insisted. “No detours. I even reserved a room.” She beamed at me as if this plan was the pinnacle of genius.

I snatched the paper from her hands, scanning the route. My jaw tightened, but I couldn’t deny the logic. “It’ll do. A better route than I had.”

Her grin widened. “Great! I thought avoiding major cities would make it harder for anyone to follow us. Less populated areas are easier to keep an eye on, right?”

---