Silent Night: Vampire Holiday Romance (The Night Songs Collection Book 4) (14 page)

My eyes fell to the cluttered end table beside his chair. Aidan had printed out the manuscript he was working on, so he could make notes before editing it. I’d asked him why he’d bothered to do it, since he had it all right on the computer. He told me that not only did he ‘see’ the book better in print, making it easier to edit, but that holding the book in his hands made it come to life for him in a way it never could on the computer. Call me old-fashioned, but I had to agree with him there. I just loved the way a book felt. I’d tried to use the e-reader that Paige gave me, but it just wasn’t the same.

I tiptoed over to the table, as if I was sneaking up on the book, like it could run away from me if it knew I was coming for it. I stared at the cover, clean with just the title,
Silent Night
, and Allison’s name underneath. Aidan never got the acclaim for his books, it had to be filtered through an imaginary person. It had to be frustrating for him. I wanted everyone to know he was the one behind those stories. I hadn’t even told Paige. It didn’t seem fair.

I perched on the edge the chair cushion, still afraid to touch anything. Sliding back in Aidan’s chair felt traitorous, knowing what I planned to do. I’d never sat there without him in it. The leather was battered and worn, and the blanket folded over the back of the chair slid down on my shoulders like a warning. It smelled like his cologne. I spread it out over my lap, picked up the manuscript, and settled in to read.

My heart thumped in my chest. I was the first person to lay eyes on this book for the pure enjoyment of reading it. Who got to say that? It felt different, reading a book in such a raw form, and knowing the author. I wondered if I’d pick up any of subtle nuances in the story, and be able to smile at them like an inside joke. I turned to the first chapter, and imagined Aidan’s voice telling me the story.

It had been a long time since I’d asked God for anything, but I needed a miracle. I was so tired. Of searching. Of disappointment. Of my never ending life, alone.

If I wanted a payoff in this bargain, I needed to show Him I believed. Still, I expected nothing. I had no other plans in coming to this service than to sing praise to His son and to celebrate His birthday. But on this Christmas Eve night, God finally answered my prayer.

She sat alone at the back of the church, her jacket a crumpled heap behind her back like a cushion, twirling her long dark ponytail. Her eyes darted to every family that sat down around her. I could almost taste her envy. In this life, she was just as lonely as me.

No one sat near her, another of my prayers answered. She barely looked like more than a girl, but her hardened expression was not one of innocence. It sent a clear message that she didn’t want to be bothered. All of her body language was as hard as the pew she sat on. She adjusted the black top that hung off of her thin shoulders. What had happened to my beloved?

I almost walked out of the church. My mind surely had to be playing tricks on me. I couldn’t really be seeing this. Her. I sat at the edge of a row and watched her while I worked up my nerve. Making the sign of the cross as I crossed the center aisle, I approached her.

“I was hoping I’d see you here.” What did I just say? The girl jumped away from me, her jaw dropped. Of course she was scared. I was exactly the kind of person she was trying to keep away.

“I don't think I know you. Do I?" She sounded apologetic as she looked me over. No recognition. What did I expect? "I'm kind of embarrassed if I do."

She didn’t run. I still had a chance to save this disaster. "I'm sorry. Maybe I thought you were someone else? I'm David." I held out my hand, hoping she’d take it. It had been so long since I touched her. She hesitated before reaching for it. I wanted to melt, having her hand in mine. Would she notice the chill from my skin? Careful not to squeeze her too hard, I didn’t want to break her bones. I never wanted to let her go.

“I’m Kyndra,” She studied my face, her lips opened in a little gasp. Her gaze lingered a little too long, and I took the opportunity to watch her take it all in.

“I know.
“
I tested her limits, just to see what she’d do. She could have gotten up and moved to another pew, or worse, left the church. Would I have followed her? Or would I let her walk out of my life again?

Never.

She picked up the hymn book and thumbed through it. “Have you been here for Midnight Mass before? It's a beautiful service,“ I continued, making small talk in hopes that she would relax. Marielle hadn’t trusted me when she met me the first time, a peasant girl separated from her family by my miliary unit, and I knew I had to build that trust all over again.

My whole body shook from the shock of the words on the page. I turned back to the beginning, just to make sure I’d read the words correctly. They were the same, but they felt like a dream sequence.

Aidan made no secret I’d inspired him to write, but this was a word for word account of our first encounter. I flipped forward, the book continued to read like a diary of our lives since that night. Except Aidan called himself David and he was convinced the character that shared my name was the reincarnation of his beloved wife, Marielle.

Kyndra punctuated finishing her Shirley Temple by picking up the plastic spear in her glass and pulling the maraschino cherries from it with her teeth. The movement mesmerized me. I stared at her lips. I could smell the fruit and I knew she’d taste like cherries.

I hadn’t kissed her yet, and the temptation threatened to drive me insane. Need pulsed inside my skull, and Kyndra’s excitement and sense of wonder intoxicated me that night.

The band began playing again. An excuse to touch her. I held out my hand. “Can I have this dance?“

Her hands should have been softer. I brushed my fingers over her palm, chapped from the cold. I’d make sure she’d never have to want for anything again.

When we reached the dance floor, Kyndra stiffened and looked nervously at the couples swirling around us. I didn’t see anyone but her, her lacy dress skimming her milky skin, her dark hair threatening to explode out of its restraint. I barely put my hands on her hips, not trusting myself to just dance. She rested her hands lightly on my shoulders and began swiveling her hips under my touch. Feeling her body move like this, so close to mine, was overwhelming. I pulled her in, then picked her up and swung her in a circle to stop myself from losing control.

She shrieked with laughter, then relaxed and started dancing. Watching her move, having her warm body so close to mine, was heaven.

“Do you want to go out on the deck?“ I asked, my lips so close to her neck. I wanted her all to myself. Away from the crowd.

“It’s almost midnight.” She looked a little sad, my heart sank. “Will we miss the countdown?”

Our new beginning knew no time. “We’ll hear it.” Not knowing if that was true or not. Drunken revelers blocked my way. I was so anxious to get through the crowd, I had to concentrate on not drawing attention to myself. Not making any movements to let them know who I really was.

Kyndra gasped, looking out at the Boston skyline, lights twinkling like suspended snowflakes. Her breath clouded around her in a halo. “It’s so beautiful,” she said. None of it was as breathtaking as she was.

“It is.” I turned her face to mine. She tensed, just slightly, her teeth grazing her bottom lip in a way that made me want to bite it. She relaxed, and her dark hazel eyes met mine. If I had ever doubted myself before, I knew at this very moment beyond a shadow of a doubt, this was my beloved.

Her eyes darted back to the lounge, my heart threatening to shatter when she pulled her eyes away from me. The countdown had begun.
 

“Happy New Year, Kyndra.” I wouldn’t let her go. “Here’s to new beginnings.”

“To new beginnings,”
she whispered and smiled at me. That was all I needed.

I pulled her in close to me, my hand wanting to pull her hair free from the bun and let it whip around wildly in the wind. I brushed my lips against hers, waiting for her to welcome me. I hadn’t expected to be so afraid to kiss her. If she rejected me, I’d be done. When her lips parted slightly, she sighed as I nipped her lip, then took her invitation to come inside. Warm and sweet, and everything I’d waited so long for, I never wanted to let her go. Her lips moved against mine, wanting, needing more, and I wanted to give her everything, be her everything.

Blood thundered in my ears, and tears streamed down my face. I didn’t think there was any way to make that night more beautiful in my memory, but being able to live it through Aidan’s eyes was the most priceless gift anyone could ever give me. Even if Aidan thought of me of nothing more than a vessel of Marielle’s spirit, I knew for certain he loved me more than I ever thought could be possible.

“What are you doing?” I jumped at Aidan’s sharp words. I hadn’t looked at anything but the words he put on the page since I picked up the book.

“I wanted to read your book.“ Just one look at him and I knew I had done something I shouldn’t have. Why wouldn’t he want me to see this? It was the most beautiful thing anyone could have ever done for me.

“I wasn’t ready for you to see that yet.”

He snatched the heavy binder from my lap, hugging it to his chest. He didn’t seem to know where to go, since I was in his chair, under his blanket, reading his secrets. “I wanted to tell you about it before you saw it.“

“Why? I lived it.“ I got up and threw myself on the couch in protest to being scolded. Overreact much, Aidan?

“Exactly. It’s not fiction.“ He sighed, taking his place in the chair I vacated, but still not looking settled.

His words echoed in my brain, not quite making sense. What was he trying to tell me? “Some of it has to be fiction. What part of it is
not
fiction?“

I could see him swallow, hard. “I changed my name to David.“ He watched my face for the reaction I tried like hell to hold in. “Everything else is true.“

Throwing my arms out to my sides, I rolled my eyes. Why did he need to hide behind this fictional facade? Was he afraid of rejection? He should know by now I wouldn’t run from him. His truth couldn’t be worse than mine.

“Aidan, listen to me.“ I sat up and leaned forward. “Your words were so beautiful. I didn’t think anyone could ever feel like that about me. I’m overwhelmed, in a good way. Obviously, since you grabbed the book from me while I was reading, you know I haven’t finished it. But the main character is a vampire. It’s fiction. I get that the sentiments aren’t, but—“

“It’s not fiction!“ he roared, and I jumped back on the couch and hugged my knees to my chest. Even when I didn’t know Aidan, I don’t think he ever scared me so much. “I’ve always been Allison.“ He stopped. The look on his face was nothing I’d seen from him before. Naked fear. “I’ve always been David.“

I stood up from the couch and backed away from him. I tripped over a pile of books, almost falling flat on my ass. The scream I was working so hard to hold in nearly escaped. If he was afraid of me running, he was going to have to face his fears. If I was understanding him right, this was crazier than I could have imagined. The best case scenario made him delusional.

The worst made him a vampire.

“Sorry,” I whispered as I bumped into yet another person on the street. At least this one wasn’t a jogger. That kind of impact hurt. I kept looking behind me, expecting to see Aidan chasing after me. I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed that I didn’t see him.

My lungs burned, taking in too much cold air, hyperventilating, running. My pajama bottoms soaked in the melted snow from the sidewalks. But my heart ached the worst.

Was I overreacting? My mind wanted me to believe I was. That I could go back to Aidan’s house and find him sitting in the chair with a cup of tea, working on that damn manuscript, just like everything was normal. But even if he only believed what he said to be true, I could never call Aidan’s house home again.

And that’s what killed me. I’d let my guard down and trusted him.

Every book ended with David, or Aidan, who knows anymore, one of two ways. He turned the love interest into a vampire, usually with horrible results, or if he didn’t deem her worthy of forever, he simply killed her.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and looked at it. Should I call the police? Was he really a murderer? Was Aidan safe by himself?

I leaned up against a darkened storefront window and closed my eyes. Maybe I was the delusional one. Jumping to the worst case scenario. Aidan hadn’t hurt me. In fact, he’d done the opposite. He’d showered me with love and gave me everything I needed to flourish. Not only was I sober, fed, and clean, I was a licensed CNA now. If it wasn’t for Aidan, I’d probably be lying on a filthy mattress, high as shit, fucking Matt or whoever else wanted a turn. Maybe I’d have to do it for money now, like those other girls I’d pitied.

My feet refused to move. I didn’t know what to do anymore. My vision blurred in bright colors of the cars and streetlights, sliding downward as the tears fell. I closed my eyes to push them out, to make it all go away.

“Are you okay, miss?” When I opened my eyes, and older lady looked so concerned for me. “Do you need any help?”