Page 23 of Vampire Claus

You were sad. Confused. Weary.A ripple that felt like laughter.Useless to me. So I guided you here.

To Boston?

To a home. To this man. We have all the time there is, if we choose. You may spend some of that for yourself now.

You knew he was Calogero’s descendant, didn’t you? None of it was a coincidence—coming to Boston for Christmas, listening to the Mass at St. Stephen’s, noticing that Paul was in trouble.More amusement from the creature, and a touch of smug pride, pulsed through their connection.But how?

I’m magic, it whispered.

And then Taviano controlled his own body once more. His bloodbeast nestled and seemed to sleep in his heart and in his mind, quiet now. Satiated. Content.

Paul extended a hand tentatively and rested it on Taviano’s arm. “Are you all right? I heard a voice that didn’t sound like you. It madewhateverthis shit is inside me vibrate at first but I don’t feel that anymore.”

Taviano trembled slightly as he surveyed the rooftop and gazed out at the lights of the North End. The smell of more snow on its way tickled his nose, and the towers of Boston glistened in the distance. There was life all around him. He could hear music from some apartment close by, along with laughter and lust and joy. The desiccated remains of the two vampires were black lumps on the rooftop; he’d have to deal with those before resting.

Resting.The revelation shook him to his core.Here. Tonight, and tomorrow, and the next night.

Taviano drew Paul into his arms. “I’m all right. Better than that. I’ve claimed the North End.” He heard the awe in his own voice. He could wake in the same place, evening after evening. No more endless wandering. No need to skirt the edges of a territory, hoping to pass through the world unnoticed. He scooped Paul into his arms and whirled them both around. This place washis.

An even stranger thought followed.Maybe Paul could be mine too.A demon with its own agenda brought them together, but Taviano could no longer deny his heart. He wanted to know everything about the fearless, generous man who bought presents secretly for homeless children. Who welcomed him into his home and into his body. Who gave him back the peace of the Mass and taught him he might not be a monster after all.

He slowed their spin and leaned away to watch Paul’s eyes as he said softly, “I can stay here. If you still want me to.”

“In Boston?” Paul asked hoarsely and his eyes glistened. “With me?”

Cautiously, Taviano confessed, “I’d love to spend more time with you, yes. But we’ve only known each other for one night and it’s been astonishing in every sense.”

Some perversity required him to remind Paul of what he was. He tilted Paul’s head back to examine his throat where the wounds had healed, leaving behind gory streaks of red. Bending, he began to lap at the blood and felt Paul inhale sharply and then purr against him like a kitten.

When Paul’s neck was clean, he raised his head again and found sparkling blue eyes watching him. Taviano warned, “I’m not exactly a catch. You may see things more clearly after you sleep. If you wake tomorrow and realize this is a mistake, believe me that I will understand and accept your choice.”

Paul drew him into a fiery kiss. The passion between them seemed as powerful in its own way as his demon’s magic. When he pulled back, it was to growl, “Taviano, you don’t seem to get it. Your ninja stuff is awesome, sure. And I don’t really understand the bloodbeast-vampire thing yet. But I met a kind man tonight who helped me when he could have turned away. You make me feel special and protected and wanted.” He put hands on either side of Taviano’s face and held his gaze. “Sure it’s only been a few hours. But every great love story begins somewhere. Maybe this is ours.”

The sincerity behind his eyes humbled Taviano. He didn’t want to darken Paul’s happiness by arguing and… Perhaps therewassomething real between them. Time would tell.

The demon throbbed amusement against his heart and made him smile. He nodded. “I’ll stay as long as you want me here. Not a night more.”

Paul practically attacked that time. He kissed Taviano so thoroughly that their earlier explorations seemed like mere hints of what could be. His heart beat wildly as he ground his erection against Taviano’s hip. Breaking free, he said joyfully, “That’s going to be a very, very long time.”

Taviano answered with a smile. “Then it’s a good thing I’m immortal.”

Nine

Taviano finally convincedPaul to go to bed in the early hours of the morning. He promised to be back at nightfall. Then, with the few hours that left before sunrise, he disposed of the dead vampires’ remains.

As he considered his nest for the day, something occurred to him. The woman he deposed must have had a lair. Testing the bond with his demon, he pulsed a question at it. Whether it gained the memories of the absorbed bloodbeasts, or through its own magic, Taviano found he knew just where to go.

He leapt easily from roof to roof, amazed and delighted at the greater strength in his limbs. Shortly, he rested on the ledge of a townhouse on North Street; a plaque in stone dated it to 1901. His demon guided him to an unlocked steel hatch set into the roof. It was so heavy it would take three or four mortals to lift. He raised it easily and crept down the revealed staircase.

Extending all of his senses, he determined that the house was empty and began to explore. Several bedrooms contained out-of-date furniture. The bathrooms’ fixtures were old and rust-stained. A library’s bookshelves lay empty. A living room stored furniture that may once have been luxurious but had grown shabby and worn.

In the brick-lined basement, down a hallway, another heavy, metal door opened to reveal a spacious, un-windowed room. The woman had no doubt used it as her lair. A very comfortable king-size bed rested against one wall. Deep, upholstered chairs and elegant tables of gleaming wood completed the space. Something about the room spoke of a masculine, English style. That puzzled him until he abruptly knew the woman took the house for herself from the vampire she deposed.

Interesting. That suggested the place now belonged to Taviano, by right of his having claimed the North End from her.

He wandered the room, touching smooth surfaces and luxurious fabrics, and stopped before a large inlaid box. Inside were wads of cash, bits of jewelry, expensive watches and similar portable treasures. The woman had apparently been a magpie, gathering those things from her victims. A quick search revealed no stolen wallets or identification. He had nothing that could help return anything to the original owners. If they even lived, which Taviano doubted.

His demon grew restless and fretful, its way of letting him know that dawn was near. Slipping several hundred dollars and one elegant wristwatch into his pockets, he closed the box and left the lair. He would have plenty of time to explore further, and he wanted to sleep near Paul.

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