Winter Eve Read online

  She jerked away before Kalissa could grab it, laughed, and jogged ahead of the other two women. Kalissa’s blond curls, a shade darker than Khloe’s, and without pink streaks, were pulled back in ponytail, but it was the annoyance across her slightly oval face that made Khloe giggle with mischief. Walking backward in the direction of Kalissa’s new Beamer, Khloe scrolled through the pictures she had snapped of them shopping. Her twin hated having her picture taken and would delete the photos once she got a hold of the phone. No way, Khloe had plans for these babies, like uploading them to the magickin social network, Magical Enchantments.

  “Lo, stop.”

  Khloe froze and snapped her head up to meet Kalissa’s violet, anxious gaze. The psychic connection to her twin told her she wasn’t talking about the phone. Hairs stood up on the back of her neck rose, and a cold shiver rolled down her spine. A new demonic power touched her awareness, different, colder than their daily stalker.

  “Here.” She shoved her shopping bags to Kalissa and put the cell in her back pocket of her shorts. “You and Lydia head home. I’ll catch up to you.”

  Kalissa shook her head. “I don’t like this.”

  Neither did she, but they had gone over it. The plan was that anytime they were out and shit got critical they split up. When her sister had bonded with and married the sheriff of Maxville, Ayden Daniels, the bond between Ayden and Kalissa extended through the twin bond to Khloe. All three of them could connect telepathically and emotionally, and the three of them could use the gift to tap into other magical beings’ powers. To keep the gift from falling into Khan’s hands, they agreed they should never be caught together because, together, they were both more powerful and also more vulnerable.

  Khan would drain them of their magic, which would kill them instantly because a Divinity’s magic was tied to their life force. They couldn’t survive without it. Khan would then use that magic in his plans to merge the natural world and the Afterworld to the Underworld.

  Today, they’d taken a huge risk with Lydia. She was eight months pregnant and, according to the magickin birth cycle, was due any day.

  “Look, you said yourself that our stalker might be a guardian sent to watch over us. If that’s the case, then I’m not alone.”

  “That’s just a hunch. We’re not sure.”

  “Please, Lis. Go. I’ll be okay.”

  Kalissa let out a heavy sigh and urged Lydia in front of her to shield the other Divinity from harm as they rushed toward the car.

  The squealing of tires and the sight of a white mini-van barreling toward them sent Khloe’s heart into marathon speed. She gave her sister and her new best friend a kiss on their cheeks and took off through the parking lot, hoping the demon would take the bait.

  She glanced over her shoulder to the BWM. Kalissa and Lydia were safe inside and pulling out of the parking space. Thank the gods. A pang of relief rolled through her and she prayed Kalissa and Lydia would make it home safe.

  The roar of an engine drew her attention to the white box on wheels speeding toward her much too fast for a parking lot, closing in on her. She hit the sidewalk and ran toward the road. She wanted to lead them out of the city limits without becoming the next demon delicacy. The farther away from witnesses, the better. They had enough to deal with because of the demons. They didn’t need a twenty-first century lynch mob to contend with.

  A quick glance at the advancing vehicle caused her heart to slam against her ribcage. The van’s side door slid open, and a demon jumped out, tucked his head, and rolled across the pavement into the grass. He jumped up and ran straight for her.

  Shit!

  She pushed her legs as fast as they could go. The racing engine of the van grew louder. She flashed a couple of miles up the road. Without a set destination, she couldn’t teleport far. Where would she go anyway?

  Outrunning that damn van wasn’t happening. She might be a powerful witch, but she didn’t know where she could go or how many demons were packed inside that van. Judging by the strength and power rolling off the ones chasing her, they were Amiddians, the middle class citizens of the Underworld.

  She whirled and thrust an energy ball at the demon, knocking him backward a few feet. Quickly, she threw a softball size fireball at him. It hit him square in the chest. The flames covered his body and, within seconds, he disappeared into a pile of ash.

  Squealing tires followed by the crunching and scraping of metal on pavement behind her sparked her curiosity. Her nose tingled at the smell of hot breaks and burnt rubber. When she turned to look at the wreckage, she gasped. The van lay on its side in the middle of the street. A much stronger and larger male, with hair black as night and long enough to allow fingers to comb through it, stood at the front of the vehicle, his massive chest rose and fell under his black T-shirt as he took deep, calculated breaths.

  After punching through the glass, he reached inside the windshield and pulled out the driver. A force of power rolled off the newcomer unlike anything she’d ever felt before. He didn’t radiate demon magic like the others. Although his aura was dark, his power was almost godly and familiar.

  Her stalker.

  His power reached out to her like physical touch of a lover, sending tingles over her skin. His sculptured body moved in a sensual, yet deadly manner. Her hands itched to touch him, to feel his warm skin under her palms. She closed her eyes to stop the urge to go to him, shivered, and cursed her body for responding to him. Usually demons threw off eerie fridge energy. But, this one, he warmed her in a way that no other man had ever done.

  Okay, Lo. You have officially lost your mind.

  The Amiddian, held off the ground in the death grip of her stalker, kicked his legs wildly and screamed as the larger male spoke in tones too low for her to make out the words. She caught a glimpse of huge sharp fangs before he latched onto his victim’s neck.

  After a few moments, Mr. Tall Dark and Scary tossed the lifeless body away like last week’s trash and turned toward her. She swallowed hard.

  His attention snapped to the left. Khloe followed his gaze to another demon running toward her. Her stalker flashed to stand in front of the other demon, and she fled in the opposite direction.

  She was so not hanging around to see what he did to that one. Cutting to her right, she ran into the woods, away from her stalker and would-be captors.

  Several feet inside the undeveloped property, another demon materialized in front of her. She dug her heels into the ground to keep from plowing into him. White-blond hair framed his too-thin demonic face. Most demons looked human, allowing them to blend into the natural world. This one didn’t blend very well. At least not to her. For one, his crimson-colored eyes were anything but human. Secondly, his dark magic rolled off him in powerful, choking waves.

  Heart hammering in her ears, she darted to the side, but he was too fast for her. His large, rough hands wrapped around her upper arm and his sharp claws dug into her skin, making her cry out. As quickly as he’d grabbed her, an iron bracelet snapped around her wrist. The cuff he slapped on her right arm instantly muted her magic. She felt the flow of energy slow and back away from the iron. She tried to force is out, create a spark, but it didn’t work. Even her elemental magic reseeded. Damn. She was powerless against him.

  Panic gripped her, and she struggled against the large demon. Survival instincts kicked in, and she brought her foot up and thrust it out, right into his groin. With a painful groan, he crumbled to the ground.

  It was a good thing male demons had the same weakness as human men. Take out the jewels and women could rule the world.

  The warm tingle across her skin said her stalker was closing in on her, and she bolted deeper into the woods.

  ***

  Jagger tossed the Amiddian to the side, stepped away from the overturned van, and froze. Khloe stood on the shoulder of the road about fifteen feet ahead, and watched him. Her pink-streaked blond hair framed her oval face, making her look like a pissed off angel. He took a step forward an
d felt the presence of another demon. He turned to the new energy to see a horned, blue-skinned demon advancing toward Khloe.

  Fuck. Where were they coming from?

  Letting out a low growl, Jagger materialized in front of the demon and grabbed him by the front of his shirt. Holding the hell-spawn off the ground, Jagger let his fangs drop. “What do you want with her?”

  The demon narrowed his eyes and smirked, but said nothing.

  Tightening his grip, Jagger gave the demon one more chance. “You can tell me, or I’ll drain the memories from your useless soul.”

  The idiot laughed and vanished.

  Fuck! No one should have been able to flash from his hold. He surrounded them with a spell for just that reason. There was only one possibility. Khan had a power source just like Jagger suspected.

  Fisting his hands to his side, he whirled around to find Khloe gone. Great. Another complication. Scenting the air, he picked up on her chocolate-rose fragrance and rushed into the forest. Several feet into the trees and brush, he found her.

  She wasn’t alone. A Regal—the imperial guards of Khan and the most powerful demons in the Underworld—stood over her, with his hand gripping her arm.

  Rage ran in Jagger’s veins, fueling his need to protect her and kill for her.

  He soon discovered his Khloe was a fireball. She kicked the Regal in the balls, taking the demon to the ground. Turning on her heels, she took off again, but not before he caught the scent of blood.

  A deep growl ripped from his throat, and he thrust his hand toward the male struggling to stand, hitting him with a ball of fire. The demon puffed into a black pile of dust.

  No one harmed what belonged to him and lived.

  Santa's Executive Excerpt

  From another Fated Desires author: Carrie Ann Ryan brings us a Holiday Tale sure to keep you warm in the winter.

  Book 2 in the Holiday Montana Series

  Santa’s Executive

  Chapter 1

  Sometimes being the bad boy seemed a whole lot easier. Justin Cooper let out a sigh and closed his eyes. The tension that had crept through his shoulders and neck throughout the day seemed to suffocate him. He sat at his desk in his office at the elementary school and wished he were anywhere else. Sure, he loved being the principal of his small-town school, but, sometimes, he just needed a break.

  The school bell rang, a soft trilling sound that set his teeth on edge, indicating he might just get that break he wanted. It was the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, and the temperature had dropped dramatically in their small Montana town of Holiday. He’d deal with the biting cold, just as long as he got his much-needed break. A full five-day weekend all to himself.

  He let out a snort. Okay, not all to himself.

  He was one of five Cooper brothers, which meant he was never too alone. They’d grown up close, and he, Matt, Tyler, Brayden, and Jackson hadn’t drifted apart as they’d aged like some families; perhaps because, after the death of their parents, they’d needed to rely on each other. Not to mention Matt, his youngest brother, had proposed to Jordan, bringing another family member into the fold. Being the most prominent family in town had its drawbacks. No, he was never quite alone, and everyone knew his business.

  Holiday was one of those storybook old Western towns that had never quite gotten with the times and evolved. But, he was okay with that. He kind of liked having the general store across the street from his brother’s hardware store. Everything was pretty much laid back and moved at a slower pace. It was a perfect pace when he really just wanted to hide away and relax. Though, in reality, he never got the chance to do just that.

  He ran a hand through his too-long hair and groaned. He needed to get a freaking haircut because, according to Jordan, he was starting to look like some punk kid. And, God forbid, he didn't fit the part of a proper and professional school principal. As it was, he looked like the aging bad boy of a small town.

  He was a thirty-four-year-old man who spent his life either at work or tinkering around the house. Fuck, he sounded like a whiny bastard. At least he enjoyed his job and had a roof over his head.

  He worked for another hour or so on the school budget for the upcoming year and called it a day. He closed down his computer, locked up his desk, and walked out to his car, the tension never quite leaving his shoulders as he looked forward to the long weekend.

  The snow had just started to fall again, leaving a light dusting on the sidewalks and cars. Everything looked like the beginning of a white wonderland, complete with Thanksgiving and harvest decorations in store windows. The one-road town appeared to be a scene sliced from an old western movie. The storefronts had been updated over the years, the road had been paved, but the town still looked old-timey. The road branched off in other directions as people built out, but Main Street remained the center of town. The snow was light, but he knew it wouldn’t take long for the sidewalks and roads to become slick. He stopped beside his car and called town maintenance, which consisted of George, his plow truck, and a few other key tools.

  “Hey, I know the school’s closed, but I'd still like you to salt the sidewalks, just in case. You never know what kids will want to do once they get a break.” The last thing he needed was a kid to break an arm or worse. Not to mention the irate parents that would blame him. As much as he loved the kids, sometimes dealing with parents made him feel as if his job was sucking the life out of him.

  George grunted, but agreed to prep the sidewalks.

  Justin hung up, shivered in his coat, and got in his SUV. It dawned on him that it would have been smarter to get in the car and then make the phone call. Why he hadn't done that was beyond him. Maybe it was old age. Okay, he wasn’t that old, but damn, he sure felt it. He slammed the door shut, shivered again, and started his car. He let it idle for a few moments while it warmed and cupped his hands over his mouth. Dear God, when did it get this cold? It hadn’t been this cold that morning.

  When the car was finally heated up enough that he wasn’t afraid he’d kill the engine, he shifted into drive and headed home. It wasn’t even that late; he just wanted to go to bed. His body felt heavy, heated, and edgy. Maybe he just needed a beer. All the more reason to head home.

  Justin carefully navigated the roads, not surprised at the lack of cars. People who lived in Montana were accustomed to snow, but that didn’t mean people necessarily loved to drive in it, nor did they drive anywhere, if they didn’t have to. The ice was already starting to build up, and Justin knew, in a few more minutes, it would get dangerous. Luckily, he lived close enough to the school that on a warm day he could jog to work; not that he wanted to do that anymore. The leering looks from some of the single and not-so-single moms when he had done so had quickly squashed that idea.

  He pulled into his driveway, parked, and then shuffled as quickly as he could into his home. Thankfully, he’d turned the heater on with a timer before he’d left, so stepping into the house wasn’t like stepping into an icebox. He shook off the snow and stepped out of his shoes. He hated cleaning, so he did his best not to be a slob. He wasn’t a neat freak like his brother Jackson, but he kept a clean house.

  He knew his home wasn’t perfect, far from it. It would always be a work in progress, at least until he had someone to share it with; another heartbeat in the house. He’d filled the rooms with heavy furniture suitable for him and his brothers. There was no feminine energy whatsoever in the home. He hadn’t painted the walls yet, beyond a quick white coat, because he didn’t know what he wanted. He also hadn’t yet put anything up on the walls. It was as if he were waiting for something—or someone—to help him fill it. What, or who, he didn’t know.

  With a sigh, he strode to the kitchen and took out the ingredients for dinner. He’d been craving Christmas cookies for the past month—and given in to those cravings more often than not—so he decided on fresh salmon, rice, and yellow squash for dinner. He needed to eat healthy so he could indulge in some sugar cookies later. He didn’t know what it was, b
ut he needed sugar cookies, daily. He loved them best when they were soft and had a thick icing layer on them. Just thinking about them made his stomach growl and his teeth ache. He knew his brother, Jackson, a dentist, would absolutely kill him if he knew how many cookies he had ingested over the past month. But, he couldn’t help it. He craved the suckers.

  He quickly got the rice going, sliced the squash so it could steam, and heated some olive oil in a pan for the salmon. He seasoned the filet then put it on the heat, but, even as he did, visions of cookies danced in his head. Yep, he was officially going crazy. The salmon crackled and popped as the fatty tissue hit the hot oil in the skillet. The aroma of lemon and dill filled the air, and he groaned. Nope, didn’t smell good enough to him. He wanted those damn cookies.

  “I’m a fucking adult. I can eat a cookie before dinner if I want to.” Sure, keep telling yourself that.

  Knowing if his mother had been alive, she would have scolded him, he tiptoed to the airtight container and took out one cookie. Come on, one little frosted cookie wouldn’t hurt. He hesitated, and then he grabbed a second cookie in case the first didn’t take the edge off. He bit down into the sugary goodness and groaned.

  Hell, yeah, this is better than sex.

  He choked on the last bit of cookie and grabbed his beer to wash it down. Fuck, he needed to get laid if a cookie was better than sex. How long had it been? He tried to think about it and sighed. Damn, he was turning into the cat lady. The one that resembled the little old lady who stayed indoors all day with a shawl around her shoulders and a cat on her lap. He just needed the fucking cat.

  The salmon popped again, and he rushed to the stove. Thankfully, he hadn’t burned his dinner. Though, if he did, he could just eat more cookies.

  No. No, that wouldn’t work.

  He turned off the heat and plated his dinner, and then he moved to the bar at the end of his kitchen isle and ate. With each bite, he turned the same question over in his mind: what the hell he was doing with his life? He was thirty-four years old and bored. He used to be the life of the party and celebrate the holidays like no other. Now he just did it for others. He didn’t enjoy Christmas as much, either. Not since that night and that weird dream.