Page 57 of Santa's Wish
I watched his heart beat, still slow and steady after all that had happened, while Boz still lay lifeless. The doctor could only do so much, and if I hadn't given him enough of the vampire virus from Cassius's blood …
I drove my dagger into Cassius's still-beating heart, watching as the virus keeping it alive blackened and died around my blade. I stabbed it a few more times for good measure until the heart disintegrated into an unrecognizable black puddle in my hand.
"Santa?" Boz sat up with a groan.
Dr. Bredlow flashed me a reassuring smile. I didn't know how long I stood staring at Boz before they tapped my shoulder. "Trade me places. I need to confirm his death for the empress."
"Yeah. Sure." I stumbled toward my worktable, placing my hands on Boz's knees.
"Santa." He grinned at me, and my heart throbbed harder in my chest.
"Boz!" I reached for him, clutching him against my chest as hot tears streamed down my face. "How areyou talking right now?" Newly turned vampires had only one thing on their minds: blood.
"I'm … Cassius was sired by the empress. When you gave his blood to me, it gave me the ability to communicate with her the same way Colette's blood would have."
My desperate attempt not to sire my boyfriend had led to a miracle. I had been blessed a few times in my life, but this was another level of divine, or empress, intervention.
Boz swallowed hard. "The empress reminded me I didn't need more blood yet." This was even better than if Colette had sired Boz. Now, his sire was dead, and he had a mind link with the empress herself.
"You can hear her voice in your head?"
He nodded. "She says to thank you."
I kissed him long and deep, not caring if she was along for the ride. He tasted like vampire blood, but also like snow and cinnamon, his unique flavor that I loved more than anything.
He broke the kiss laughing. "She said you and Ciarán can handle the rest. Who's Ciarán?"
I laughed. "Key."
He sighed. "Good. She's gone now."
I kissed him again because I could. He kissed me back with cold, clammy lips.
Dr. Bredlow examined Boz's back while I distractedhim with my tongue and then tapped our shoulders for our attention. "Let's get you out of this crime scene. It's a mess."
"Does anything hurt?" I asked Boz.
"No." He grinned at me. "I feel wonderful."
I led Boz by the hand through the ruined VIP room to the main area. There were a few comfortable leather couches along the back wall by the bathrooms. I pulled Boz down onto my lap on the nearest one, and he kissed my cheek.
"Where is everyone?" I asked Jameson. While it was still early, the place should have been filling up with partiers on a Friday night.
"The boss closed shop for the night. Council's orders. They're sending a cleaner to take care of the mess behind the bar and in your workshop. They'll also need witness statements."
Boz snuggled closer to me. "That sounds like a long night."
"Drink this." Jameson handed Boz a fresh tumbler of warmed blood.
"But she said …"
"It's time," I said. "You'll need blood every half-hour at first, to finish healing."
He raised the tumbler to his lips and sniffed the contents. His nose wrinkled. "Smells gross."
"It will, at first."
"Wait until you try your first synthetic." Jamesonflopped onto the couch beside ours and wrenched his neck from side to side until it popped. "Ah. That's better."
