Healing the Broken: A Kindred Christmas Tale Read online

  “Will you listen to yourself?” Lexy shakes her head in exasperation. “I’m telling you, it’s going to be different this year. Don’t forget, there’s a new Sovereign ascending.”

  “So?” I shrug. “He’s still going to be a vampire. What’s the difference?”

  “The difference is that he’s younger—only a hundred or so and you know that’s not very old where vamps are concerned. Plus, everyone is saying he’s into some pretty kinky stuff.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “Kinky how?”

  “You know,” Lexy says mysteriously. “Whips and chains and bondage. Apparently he has unusual ways of taking blood and power. And he fucks like a bull.” She sighs. “I wouldn’t really want to be chosen but if I was…”

  “If you were, you’d be stuck being some vamp’s sex toy for an entire year,” I point out acidly. “Not to mention his personal blood bank. Ugh.”

  “It’s not so bad being bitten—if the vamp does it right.” Lexy frowns at me. “Don’t tell me you’ve never done a vamp before.”

  I shake my head. “Nope, sorry. Not interested.” Actually, my closely guarded secret is that I’ve never ‘done’ anyone before. I’m a virgin—a big no-no for a witch, who is supposed to use sex to augment her power. But since I don’t have any power to augment in the first place, it’s really not a big deal. Well, except to my ego but what can I do? As I said before, the guys aren’t exactly knocking down my front door. And though I could probably hook up with a human guy for a one night stand, I don’t want to lose it like that. Somehow I can’t take sex as casually as Lexy and my other cousins—I want it to mean something. Which is stupid, I know, but I can’t help the way I feel.

  “Well maybe tonight is your night,” Lexy says, interrupting my inner pity party. “I happen to know of a really hot vamp who says he likes your type.”

  I narrow my eyes at her. “Are you trying to set me up again?”

  “Well, somebody’s got to,” Lexy huffs. “It’s for your own good, Emma. A witch needs company, you know.” Which is a nice way of saying she needs regular screwing.

  “No thanks. Not this witch.” I shake my head firmly. The last time I let Lexy send me on a blind date the guy she picked up turned out to be a horny werewolf on a full moon night. I barely escaped with my virginity and my panties intact.

  “Emma,” she begins but I override her.

  “I’m only going tonight because I have to go,” I tell her. “If I wasn’t required by supernatural law to be there, I’d skip it and stay home to watch a Gilmore Girls marathon.”

  “Oh, you…” Lexy throws up her hands. “Sometimes I don’t know what to do with you, Emma.”

  “Just love me,” I said, giving her a winning smile. “And let me live my life the way I want to.”

  “Never.” She declares. “If I did that, you’d go on being frumpy and lonely. I’m determined to transform you.”

  “And just how do you plan to do that?” I put a hand on my hip.

  “You’ll see,” Lexy trills. “I’ll be at your apartment around six thirty to pick you up.”

  “But the ceremony doesn’t start until eight,” I point out.

  “So? We’ll hang out. We haven’t had any good cousin time in ages.”

  “Just hanging out? That’s all you’re planning?” I’m very suspicious of this—Lexy always has an ulterior motive.

  Lexy gives me a wide-eyed glance that’s just a little too innocent. “Of course. And also—”

  But whatever else she was going to say is interrupted when the string of chimes hung over the door tinkle a musical warning. Someone is coming into the shop. A customer—time to be professional.

  “I’ll see you tonight,” I tell Lexy.

  “See you tonight.” She blows me a kiss and heads toward the door.

  As Lexy is leaving, the customer is coming in. They brush shoulders and Lexy stops to lift her eyebrows suggestively at me behind his back. I make a quick shooing motion and point to the door. Now isn’t the time to flirt. She giggles and leaves, the chimes tinkling a second time as she flits gracefully through the door.

  I put on my best “I’m a professional witch” face and look up at the customer…and up and up. He’s tall—at least six foot five which makes my own rather diminutive five four seem even shorter. He’s also handsome—all chiseled features, dark hair and broad shoulders. He’s even got one of those little clefts in his chin and some sexy stubble to go with it. No wonder Lexy was making eyes at me behind his back. On his right hand he wears a heavy gold ring with a strangely carved black stone. Onyx, maybe? I’m not sure. But I do know there’s something about him—a muted power I can feel thrumming in the air around him. I’m sure he’s a supernatural being but I can’t place what kind, exactly.

  I get a chance to study him because he’s perusing a handwritten list, staring at it fiercely as though he’d like to burn a hole in it with his eyes.

  “Yes, sir?” I say at last, when he continues to just stand there, looking at the list. “Can I help you?”

  “I certainly hope so,” he snaps. “That is why I came here.” He’s wearing an expensive charcoal suit with a crisp white shirt and a solid red silk tie that looks like it cost more than my car. When he looks up, his eyes are cool grey, reminding me of a winter twilight.

  Rich asshole, I think, but don’t say. “All right then,” I murmur smoothly. “If you’ll just tell me what kind of spell you’re trying to work—”

  “These are the herbs I need,” he interrupts me, going back to the list. “Mugwort, serpentavia root, yarrow, rosemary—”

  “Wait a minute.” I hold up a hand to stop him. “Do you need them fresh or dried?”

  “How should I know?” he snaps. “You’re the expert—you tell me.”

  I take a deep breath, reminding myself to be professional. “It depends on what kind of spell you’re casting or what kind of potion you’re making?” I end the sentence as a question, raising my eyebrows at him, hoping he’ll fill me in.

  “It’s a potion,” he says reluctantly. “I really can’t say any more than that. Look, just give them to me dried.”

  “All right.” If he wants to be an asshole, I don’t care how his potion comes out. I come out from behind the counter and start hustling around the store, grabbing the herbs he named. We keep most of our merchandise up front on the various shelves so technically he could get them himself. But it’s clear Mr. Tall, Dark, and High-handed is used to being waited on so I take it upon myself to get what he’s demanding.

  When I turn around, I see him watching me closely. For some reason, I feel my cheeks get hot. I’m wearing jeans and a modest crew neck T-shirt but somehow it feels like those cool grey eyes can see right through my clothes. Don’t be stupid, I tell myself uneasily. As if someone like him would look at someone like you. “Um, is there anything else?” I ask, trying not to let him see that his eyes on me disturb me.

  “Hmm?” He looks at me speculatively. “Oh, yes—I also need adder’s tongue, cinnamon, cedar—”

  “Hang on.” I go and get the things he’s naming, collecting them easily—all except the adder’s tongue. We don’t get much call for that one and it’s stored on the highest shelf in the store. Feeling self conscious, I stretch up on my tip-toes, trying to reach it. I can brush the red tin it’s stored in with my fingertips but I can’t quite—

  All at once I realize he’s right behind me. “Allow me,” he murmurs. I can feel the heat of his big body along my spine as he reaches over my head and easily plucks the red tin of adder’s tongue from the top shelf. He isn’t actually touching me, but he’s not far from it, either.

  I turn quickly to find my face just inches from his broad chest. When I look up, I’m confronted with those cool gray eyes again. He’s studying me as though I’m some kind of a bug he wants to know more about. I can feel his power, throbbing like a beating heart between us. Whatever he is, he’s one dominant son of a bitch, that’s for damn sure.

  “Oh!�€