Old friend? Is she fucking high? Does this psychotic couture nightmare think we're on speaking terms after everything she's done?
She snaps her fingers—actuallysnapsthem like I'm the help—but gestures behind her. "Come along, don't be shy."
She's more unhinged than—
A man steps into view beside her, and everything stops. The restaurant noise fades to nothing—my heartbeat thunders in my ears.
Dark hair. Familiar eyes. The same scholarly face that once betrayed us all.
My lungs forget how to function. My throat closes. The world tilts sideways.
No. Impossible. I watched him die. Azrael ripped his heart out—
"Adrian?"
Rhyland
74
The Holiday Lighting Pros truck pulls up the drive, their logoreflecting off the fresh snow. Lucian chuckles, "Ho ho ho, bitches, the light crew has arrived."
My arms strain with the fifth box of Christmas shit from the basement—centuries of accumulated decorations that Lucian never throws away "because they have sentimental value, you heathens."
The massive pine tree Lucian somehow pulled out of his ass dominates our living room, and Brax—currently wearing some random GQ model's face because Lucian threatened to exorcise him if he saw one more Chris Evans—practically bounces as he strings lights around the branches.
"Last box," I grunt, dropping it next to the growing pile of tinsel and ornaments. Leave it to Lucian to turn this into some grand gesture. "The girls need normal holiday experiences," he'd insisted, like anything about our lives could be considered normal.
The sight of Erik—Mr. Stoic himself—carefully hanging delicate glass ornaments while nursing his bourbon nearly makes me drop the box. In all our lifetimes, I never thought I'd see my brother doing something so... domestic.
"Alright, you seasonal sluts!" Lucian bursts in from his surveillance room, tablet in hand. "Let's turn this place into the North Pole's wet dream!"
Erik doesn't even look up from his methodical decorating. "If you start singing 'All I Want for Christmas,' I will break your neck."
"You're just jealous of my festive spirit, Silver Bells."
Erik continues arranging ornaments with precision. "At least I don't look like an elf that failed Santa's workshop orientation."
Lucian gasps dramatically. "How dare you. I am a majestic Christmas creature. And at least I don't arrange ornaments with military precision, General Grinch."
I sort through the tangled messof garland, imagining Dani's reaction when she returns from her "me-day" with the girls. The thought of my mate's face lighting up at this winter wonderland bullshit makes all this worth it.
We'd caught wind of their little escape plan—or more specifically, Dani’s scheme. Vampire hearing is a beautiful fucking thing when your mate thinks she's being sneaky. Perfect opportunity to turn their surprise intooursurprise. Hell, for once I actuallywantedthem to leave so we could get this shit done without Dani catching wind of it. Nothing like turning the tables on my feisty angel.
"Speaking of elves," Lucian grins, pulling something from a bag. "Look what I found!"
"No." Erik's voice could freeze hell.
"Oh yes, brother dearest." Lucian holds up three matching sweaters—all featuring prancing reindeer with actual light-up noses. "Matching family Christmas sweaters!"
Brax immediately shifts into a department store mannequin. "Can I have one too?"
"For fuck's sake," I growl, but there's no real heat in it. The happiness radiating from my brothers—even Erik's carefully hidden amusement—is infectious. We haven't done anything like this in centuries.
"If anyone takes pictures," Erik warns, reluctantly accepting his sweater, "I will end you."
"Too late!" Lucian's already got his phone out. "This is going to be our Christmas card. 'Season's Greetings from your favorite bloodsuckers!'"
"You know what this needs?" Brax shifts his face into yet another random model. "A star for the top."
