CHAPTERONE
Sunday, January 2nd
Mercer Island, Washington
Orion had seen a lot of things in his two hundred and forty-six years of living, but the reanimated raccoon racing from the reaper while also being chased by a battle cat, two obnoxious kittens, and a wolf was an all new level of weird.
“Damn it. Get back here!” the reaper commanded.
Despite his ever-present arrogance, everyone alive and dead ignored him as they raced around the basement’s main living space, hissing and barking.
Smoky, Orion’s kitten, grinned as he passed by, the little jerk never so happy as he was while annoying Orion’s kin.
The other three vampires in the house, not counting the reaper and draugr (running around in wolf form), watched with him, as did the crazy dusk elf they’d all been forced to accept.
Truly, Orion was living in momentous times. Vampires from different tribes living together, when normally they’d have killed each other by now, had to be a first. Especially since two of the idiots had mates, which normally caused vampires to act evenmoreterritorial. For sure, the apocalypse had to be right around the corner.
Even the goddess Hecate, the owner of the large house they all lived in, agreed.
Kraft, the only vampire among them to match Orion’s strength, looked at him, grinned, and in a light German accent said, “Your demonic feline taunts the reaper yet again. I’m beginning to like him.” He paused and added with deliberate menace, “Perhaps I’ll allow him a few more months of life before I eat him.”
Orion flipped him off, which had the younger vampire laughing and making lewd comments about Orion’s lineage.
Before Orion could pound the giant bastard into the floor, a deep, melodic voice accompanied the arrival of a creature no one wanted to deal with, as evidenced by them all slinking away into the shadows. Hell, even the raccoon, battle cat, and kittens darted away.
“Where did everyone go? Oh well. You, Orion. I have a job for you.” Mormo, the freaky bastard who served the goddess they’d been unwillingly pledged to, pointed at him. Neither young nor old, Mormo had long white hair, a face with delicate features more suited to the fae than to other magir or humans, and an arrogant attitude not belonging in those not vampire.
Orion and his kin considered those not Of the Bloode to be lesser beings, and as such, he thought Mormo’s conceit misplaced.
Even if the bastard had the ability to make his bloode boil, freeze, or explode on a whim.
Orion groaned. “What do you want? I’m supposed to have off tonight.”
“Says who?” Mormo arched a brow, his red eyes glowing.
They’d all speculated on what Mormo might be but hadn’t come to a consensus. So they called him a magician, which fit well enough. Who else but a magic-user could gather six vampires from different tribes to serve a goddess none of them worshipped? Without Hecate’s power and Mormo’s magic, Orion and the others would have killed each other by now. Cursed long ago to only exist in small groups, his kind were driven to kill vampires outside their own clan.
And speaking of family... “You know, you should pick one of the others for this chore. I’ve been doinga lotsince Samhain. I’ve been working hard all through the holidays.”
“Which you don’t celebrate.”
“I saved Christmas from a heretic.”
Mormo sighed. “You broke Santa’s leg and managed to scare a small group of children.”
“He was an imposter ready to eat young humans!” Shouldn’t Orion have been rewarded for that?
“You mean a department store Santa plying children with candy canes to put them at ease for pictures on his lap in a special evening celebration at Nordstrom’s?”
“Monstrous!” Orion barreled on. “And creepy. Why were they on his lap? Why is his suit such a beautiful color if not to tempt the young to gather closer? Why fatten them up with sugar if not to sweeten their blood?”
Mormo pinched the bridge of his nose. “Never mind.”
“Exactly. I made an effort to celebrate stupid Christmas for Macy’s sake. And what thanks do I get? More work.”
Their only human and the clan’s Bloode Witch, Macy had recently mated their revenant, a decent vampire who acknowledged Orion’s superior strength and fighting prowess. Thanks to that pair, Orion had adopted his best fur buddy, a feline of estimable power and treachery.
He grinned, wondering who would win in a battle between his gray kitten and Kraft. Honestly, it could go either way. Smoky had the art of treachery down to a science.
