I peer into her gaping orbital holes, and glance back to Damon. “She’s obviously a girl. Look at this gorgeous facialstructure.” I circle her, taking in her symmetrical spinal column, each vertebrae perfectly aligned.
“You’re right. She’s from a medical college in the 60s, but I don’t know how old the bones are. Maybe we can dig and find out more.”
“We’re naming her Holly.”
“Holly?”
“It’s old-timey, it’s Christmas… Holly. I love her.” I close the distance between us and wrap my arms around Damon’s strong body. “You’re so thoughtful.”
“Holly’s going to look perfect when we get our Victorian dream home. She can watch over you when you’re in your office… That is, when I’m not in there with you.”
“Our house.” I hum a contented sigh. “With the stained glass windows and clawfoot tub and creaky floors. And Holly the skeleton watching over my office while I study. I can’t wait.”
He pulls me close, being careful of my head, and kisses me softly. “Merry Christmas, Angel.”
“Wait.” I push away from him, suddenly remembering. “You haven’t opened yours yet.”
I grab the three wrapped boxes I hid in the coat closet yesterday.
“This one first.” I hand him the largest one, barely containing my grin. He’s so going to hate me, but in the best way.
He tears into it and pulls out the ugliest Christmas sweater I could find—bright red and green with Freddy Krueger’s face on the front, complete with his razor glove and the words “Slashing Through the Snow” embroidered across the bottom.
Damon stares at it, blinking. “This is?—”
“Hideous. And you’re wearing it to dinner tonight.”
“Blake—”
I laugh, knowing how much Jasper and Leon will roast him. “I need you to be festive! Don’t worry, I got one too.”
What I don’t mention is that mine is mostly black and decidedly not “ugly.”
Despite himself, he’s smiling and shaking his head. “Fine. But you’re explaining to everyone why I look like a holiday horror show.”
“It’ll be a gift to the whole family. Seeing you in a color that isn’t black.”
I’m one to talk. Before he can fight the inevitable any more I hand him the next present.
It’s smaller, just a simple envelope, but I’m barely containing my excitement. He opens it to find a gift certificate and appointment confirmation for the best car stereo place in the area.
“For the Chevelle.” I lean against him. “I know you’ve been wanting to upgrade the sound system so it can be even more obnoxiously loud.”
He kisses me, and it’s soft and sweet. “Thank you, baby. You didn’t have to do this much.”
“Just know I’ll be playing MCR on repeat,” I say against his lips.
“One more.” I hand him the smallest box, and suddenly I’m nervous. I know I shouldn’t be… It’s Damon. The creepier the better. “This one’s special… something that I’m honestly wondering why it’s taken me so long to get.”
He opens the box slowly and goes completely still.
It’s a glass vial wrapped in silver on a chain… the vial is filled with my blood. I got the artist to attach a small circle engraved with our initials.
“I figured,” I say softly, watching his face, “since you gave me yours, I should give you mine. It’s engraved on the back.”
“Angel…” His voice is raw, filled with emotion. “This is perfect.”
“You like it?” I say, blinking back tears again.
