Home for the Holidays: A Night Huntress Novella

I AWOKE TO a vampire leaning over me, nothing unusual since I’d gone to sleep wrapped in one’s arms. But what made this out of the ordinary was that the vampire wasn’t Bones.

 

Ian’s hand clapped over my mouth before I could snap out an indignant demand for him to leave. I grabbed his arm, intending to break it in several places, when my sleep-fuzzy vision cleared enough to note the gravity in his expression.

 

“Shh,” he whispered.

 

I nodded, torn between thinking he better have a damn good reason for this stunt and being afraid that he did. Ian removed his hand and I sat up, my gaze darting around. No one else was in the room, and he had the door closed.

 

“What’s wrong?” I asked at once.

 

Ian kept his voice very low. “Crispin is acting strange.”

 

“Crispin as in Bones, or Crispin as in Wraith?” We had two of them now, and Bones had seemed fine when I last saw him.

 

“The only Crispin I give a shite about,” Ian snapped. “Really, we don’t have time for these games.”

 

I couldn’t agree more, which was why I didn’t appreciate Ian sneaking into my room and gagging me just to tell me he thought Bones was acting oddly. For God’s sake, his heretofore unknown brother was in town and he’d resolved to investigate that brother for possible nefarious intentions. It would get under anyone’s skin.

 

Still, in case Ian wasn’t overreacting . . . “Strange how?”

 

“He’s inordinately cheerful, and he seems almost oblivious to anyone but Wraith. Same with everyone else. I tell you, something is going on.”

 

If I weren’t naked, I would’ve shoved Ian out the door right then. “I knew you were shallow, but really? Bones just found out he has a brother and he’s not sure what type of man that brother is. The rest of us aren’t, either. So yes, for a little while, Wraith might get more attention than you. Man up and stop acting like a brat who hates the new baby because now Mommy and Daddy don’t play with him as much!”

 

“This isn’t about my shallowness,” Ian said curtly. Then he strode to the door. “When you realize that, meet me at the Hampton Inn in Asheville, unless you’ve been affected, too.”

 

“You’re staying there?” Part of me was relieved. Now I didn’t have to deal with him through the holidays.

 

“Yes,” was his short reply. “Someone has to find out what rock Wraith crawled out from under.”

 

He left then, shutting the door behind him. I heaved a sigh and got out of bed. He’s as shallow as a kiddie pool, I told myself, but my own niggling seeds of doubt had made me speed through showering and getting dressed. Ian was egotistical, perverted, and morally bankrupt, but he wasn’t prone to overreacting about anything except involuntary abstinence. Could something be wrong with Bones?

 

Right, because acting jovial while trying to glean facts out of his brother couldn’t be a cross-examination tactic—it clearly spells menacing omen, an inner voice mocked.

 

That was the most logical explanation. Still, I couldn’t squelch my unease as I headed downstairs. When you’ve seen bodies come back from the dead as attack zombies, you pretty much realize that anything is possible. Bones’s laughter rang out loud and hearty, and though the sound normally gladdened me, thanks to Ian, it almost sounded foreboding now.

 

Nothing’s wrong, nothing’s wrong, I chanted to myself as I followed the sounds into the kitchen. Ian had apparently left, but the others were gathered at the table. Wraith sat at the head, his blond hair gathered in a ponytail that somehow looked masculine, and wearing another shirt that would be in line with Renaissance festival attire.

 

“Cat,” he said, smiling at me. “Do have a seat.”

 

Inviting me to sit at my own table. How kind. I squelched that sarcastic response and pulled up a chair from the other room, our kitchen table merely seating six. Only after I settled in did it occur to me that Bones hadn’t offered to get the chair.

 

Granted, I wasn’t the type of girl who waited for someone to open doors or slide out chairs for me, but Bones normally got a kick out of gestures like that. Furthermore, Spade and Mencheres were chivalrous almost to a pathological fault, but they hadn’t spoken up, either. It’s nothing, I told myself, and pasted a false smile on my face.

 

“So what did I miss?”

 

Wraith settled back more comfortably in his chair. “I was telling everyone about the time I absconded with the Duke of Rutland’s prized stallion as a lad.”

 

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