Praise for New York Times bestselling author Heather Graham

“An incredible storyteller”

—Los Angeles Daily News

“This delightfully offbeat yet sometimes unexpected story whips up its own brand of holiday magic.”

—Library Journal on Home in Time for Christmas

Praise for Deborah LeBlanc

“The Wolven seamlessly weaves a remarkably well-detailed mythology into the recent history of New Orleans. LeBlanc’s dialogue sparkles and the sexual chemistry between Shauna and Danyon is delicious.” —RT Book Reviews on The Wolven

Praise for Kathleen Pickering

“A novel story line, excellent description, and lots of sexual tension make this an irresistible story readers won’t want to put down.”

—RT Book Reviews on Where It Began

Praise for Beth Ciotta

“Well-drawn characters … sparks fly. A well-plotted raunchy adventure.”

—Publishers Weekly on Out of Eden

HEATHER GRAHAM

New York Times bestselling author Heather Graham has written more than one hundred novels. An avid scuba diver, ballroom dancer and a mother of five, she still enjoys her south Florida home, but loves to travel, as well. Check out her website, theoriginalheathergraham.com.

DEBORAH LeBLANC

This award-winning author is the creator of the LeBlanc Literacy Challenge, an annual campaign designed to encourage people to read, and Literacy Inc., a nonprofit organization that fights illiteracy in America’s teens. For more information go to www.deborahleblanc.com and www.literacyinc.com.

KATHLEEN PICKERING

Believing that stories are excellent tools for teaching life lessons while entertaining, Kathleen wants her characters to overcome their life challenges with dignity, grace and a good dose of humor to deserve that special “happily-ever-after” ending.

BETH CIOTTA

Dubbed “fun and sexy” by Publisher’s Weekly, Beth specializes in writing romantic comedy with a twist of suspense. She lives in New Jersey with her husband, two zany dogs and a crazy cat. To learn more about her colorful life, visit her website at www.bethciotta.com.

The Keepers: Christmas in Salem
Do You Fear What I Fear?

Heather Graham

The Fright Before Christmas

Deborah LeBlanc

Unholy Night

Kathleen Pickering

Stalking in a Winter Wonderland

Beth Ciotta

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

Table of Contents

Cover

Praise

About the Authors

Title Page

Do You Fear What I Fear?

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

The Fright Before Christmas

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Unholy Night

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Stalking in a Winter Wonderland

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Epilogue

Copyright

Do You Fear What I Fear?

Heather Graham

Dear Reader,

People come in all shapes and sizes. They have different backgrounds, different homes and different beliefs. But the message of the holiday season transcends all those differences. The season speaks to us in the language of peace and love.

No matter what we believe, this is inherently true; our time on earth is short, and the greatest gifts we can give focus on are health, peace and happiness. Our Keepers are certainly different. Their charges are extremely different.

But in all ways, we hope that they’ll bring the same message: may you have a wonderful holiday season; may all remember those who need our help; and to whomever we pray, may we pray for peace to all men and find it within ourselves.

Not, of course, that our Keepers won’t have a little trouble getting there … Then again, sometimes, don’t we all?

We hope you enjoy, that your trials and tribulations will be small, and that you’ll have the best holiday season ever!

Best,

Heather Graham

For families everywhere, in every sense of the word family. Sometimes we’re bonded by blood, and sometimes by friendship and caring.

Prologue

Winters came with a vengeance to Salem, Massachusetts. When settlers had first come to the shores of the then colony, many had not survived. Those who had settled Salem and her environs had been devout Puritans, and they had seen the Devil in the darkness, in the forests that surrounded the land they worked so hard to cultivate. They were, in fact, so convinced that the Devil was in the forest that they believed he also somehow entered their homes—and from this belief came the terror of the witch trials. But people learned the bitter lesson of the cruelty they had perpetuated. Salem’s name became famous in history, the city itself a place dedicated to the awareness of man’s inhumanity to man, where people could learn from the past so that they never again allowed such cruelty and injustice to occur.

By the twenty-first century, the city welcomed any and all, embracing those of different ethnicities and becoming a place where every religion was welcome, from Wicca to Buddhism to the more traditional forms of worship.

Even now, it was easy to understand how people without electric lights, without communication, could play on old grievances, look around the woods where natives they didn’t understand were lurking, where God only knew what might emerge from the never-ending forests and the land beyond, and fear what they didn’t comprehend. When winter came, the wind howled and ice formed on houses. They sat huddled before their fires and feared what lay beyond.

When winter was at its height, darkness came by late afternoon, and they shivered in their homes and prayed for dawn. Then.

But this was now.

And the darkness had never been anything like this.

At first the darkness had seemed to come normally. October arrived, and with it Halloween, Salem’s favorite holiday. November followed, and daylight savings time was gone. Then winter came, and with it, shorter days.

And that was when the darkness began to extend its reign.

People would get to work, stare at the sky and say, “Wow. It’s not light yet.”

Children would get out of school in the afternoon and say, “Wow. It’s dark already.”

The mayor called the governor; the governor called the president.

The president called the experts at NASA.

But they were all completely stymied. Because the darkness had settled only over Salem, Massachusetts.

For the most part, the citizens of that fair and historic city lived with it. But each day they grew a little more concerned, a little edgier. They became prone to rudeness, to attacking one another. They behaved the way people had a way of behaving whenever they were …

Afraid.

With winter came the holiday season. For the city’s Wiccan community, the winter solstice was the day of highest importance, and while they tried to make it a time of celebration, many were short-tempered, their moods as dark as the sky. Hanukkah was not much better. Now as the community moved to welcome Christmas, their shared but unspoken fear was that Christmas Day would dawn with complete darkness, and rather than being the celebration of rebirth it was meant to be, Christmas would bring something evil leaking from the stygian darkness that enveloped the city.

And even in this enlightened day, they began to wonder.

Was the Devil more than a myth, and was he running loose in the world?

Was he back wreaking havoc in the Salem woods—this time for real?

Chapter 1

The bulb Samantha Mycroft was trying to replace was just above her reach. She swore softly—and then felt guilty.

It was Christmas Eve. One was not supposed to swear on Christmas Eve. In the front yard, next to the tall and beautiful pine she was trying to decorate, the motion-activated Santa was singing in Bing Crosby’s voice, cheerfully telling the story of the Little Drummer Boy.

She should not be cursing on Christmas Eve, she thought again.

But, she thought, pausing to look at the sky, this was a most unusual Christmas Eve.

It was dark. Darkness was to be expected at night, of course.

But the darkness had started coming earlier and earlier. At first it had been natural, as fall had come to Salem. But four in the afternoon had become two. And where at first the sun had come out at six in the morning, six had become seven. Then eight. Then nine.

Finally there had been just an hour of light at midafternoon, and today, Christmas Eve, she wondered if even that hour would come, because it had gone from being one hour to fifty minutes, then forty, then thirty… .

They kept the Christmas lights on 24/7, which, Samantha was convinced, was why her Never Burn Out! Christmas lights were burning out.

She managed to reach the offending bulb and change it, and then, from her perch atop the ladder, looked up at the sky again.

The news, of course, was filled with the phenomenon. It was centered on Salem, but it had begun spreading—though to a lesser degree—south toward Boston and north toward the Gloucester area. None of the rest of the country was any darker than it normally was at this time of year. Naturally, scientists and meteorologists were having a field day with the situation. They all had theories that explained what was going on, from the extremely esoteric to a strange type of sun flare. How a flare could cause such darkness, Sam didn’t know.

It didn’t matter.

Their theories were all wrong; she knew that much. Whatever was going on in Salem was being caused by a miscreant in the Otherworld.

“Hey! Pretty lights!”

She heard the deep voice and for a moment, she froze. She knew that voice, though she hadn’t heard it in years. It was rich and fluid; it had made her laugh.

And its absence from her life had, once upon a time, made her cry.

She turned quickly, then remembered that she was on a ladder and grasped hold of it, absolutely determined that she wouldn’t humiliate herself by falling off and landing at his feet.

With all the control she could muster, she turned regally to look down.

Maybe she was imagining that it was him… . He had disappeared on a Christmas Eve, exactly two years ago now.

She’d imagined nothing.

There he was. Daniel Riverton in the flesh.

As if on cue, the stupid Santa began singing “I’ll Be Home for Christmas.”

Daniel was tall and appeared lean, but she knew from experience that his shoulders were broad, his chest and arms muscled and honed, and he could move with incredible grace, speed and agility. He was the epitome of “tall, dark and handsome.”

Naturally.

Because Daniel was a vampire. And an exceptional one.

He was striking as only a vampire could be; his hair was coal dark and his eyes were that burning, intense hazel often seen among his kind. When he was passionate or angry, the hazel burned with a golden light that seemed more intense than the sun. He looked up at her now, those eyes of his enigmatic, a slight smile curving his lips.

Leave it to Daniel to come back smiling. She wanted to smack him—smack that smile from his face.

And she also wanted to touch him, feel his arms around her again, look up at him and smile and laugh because they were a duo, soul mates.

Yeah, so much for that.

“How are you, Sam?” he asked softly.

“Fine. What are you doing back in Salem?” she demanded curtly.

It would have been nice if he’d said something like I tried to survive without you but I couldn’t. I had to come back to Salem. I don’t care about rules or regulations or if we’re damned for all time. I can’t live without you.

He didn’t.

“I was called back,” he told her.

“Oh?” she demanded. She was the Salem Keeper of the Vampires. If anyone had been called back, she should have known about it.

“My father,” he explained.

His father. Great. His father, who hadn’t approved of a vampire dating a vampire Keeper. Her parents hadn’t approved, either, of course. But they had kept their disapproval fairly quiet, telling her that she had to make her own decisions about life.

She shouldn’t have had to take on the Keeper role for years, but the International Council had been formed and her parents—having managed the area exceptionally well since their arrival in response to the insanity of the witch trials—had been called to be part of that council. That left her generation, the younger generation, to take on their responsibilities far too soon.

Justin Riverton, Daniel’s father, was a pillar of the community. Or had been. Like her parents, he was now serving on the International Council. Everything, all those departures, had happened at around the same time. Daniel, fresh out of law school, had been swept up in the whole council thing, and now, while he didn’t sit on the council, he worked for it, going from place to place to settle vampire affairs whenever trouble arose and no local Keeper was at hand.

But the real issue was the age-old taboo against Keepers having relationships with their charges.

That was changing now in many places—newer places than Salem, where the old ways died very slowly.

She knew that everyone had considered what she and Daniel shared to be nothing but a fling—a silly school thing that would end. They were both excellent students, bright and responsible from an early age. When it was time for them to end it, they would end it.

Despite that prevailing belief, Sam was pretty sure that both her parents and Daniel’s had conspired to keep them apart. And, she was forced to admit, her attitude might have had something to do with it. Maybe she’d pushed too hard in her desire for some kind of passionate declaration from him. She’d wanted him to tell her that what they had was too unique, too incredible … too passionate … for him to turn his back on her and leave.

Hadn’t happened.

So the fact that he was here now was doubly galling. Not only was she embarrassed not to know he was on the way, his presence meant that the council believed she couldn’t keep her affairs, her responsibilities as a Keeper—her charges—in order. That what was happening here was somehow her fault.

Which was ridiculous. Vampires might be exceptionally fond of darkness, but they were not known to have any special powers to create it.

“Well. Nice to see you,” she said. There was no reason for her to remain on the ladder—she’d changed the bulb. If she didn’t come down, she would look like a coward.

Sam was the oldest of the new generation of Keepers now in charge of Salem’s Otherworld. It wasn’t an actual title or position, but with all the changes that had taken place, she was more or less the “Keeper of the Keepers.” She was supposed to be calm, cool, stoic—wise at all times. Looking like a coward—or appearing unable to handle Daniel’s sudden reappearance in Salem on Christmas Eve—just wouldn’t do.

She willed her hands not to shake as she started to descend. Maybe that wasn’t such a great plan. She was tall, nearly six feet. But Daniel, though only about six-three, seemed to tower over her. And he was standing way too close to the foot of the ladder. He might have moved to give her a little more personal space, but he didn’t.

“Uh, good to see you, but I have things to do, so …?” she said.

He smiled—well aware that he was blocking her path back to the house. “It’s nice to see you, too. I wanted you to know that, and that I was back in town. I guess we both have things to do.”

“Thanks. Now if you don’t mind, you’re blocking my way into my house,” she told him.

Ignoring her, he asked, “Still the best tour guide in the city?”

“You know I love my heritage,” she told him.

He grinned and said in a very proper tour guide voice, “In the winter of 1623, a fishing village was established by the Dorchester Company on the shores of Cape Ann. The settlers struggled with the windy, stormy, rock-strewn area, and then a man named Roger Conant led a group to this fertile spot at the mouth of the Naumkeag River. At first they called it Naumkeag, the native word for ‘fishing place.’ And then they chose Salem, for shalom, meaning ‘peace.’” He shrugged. “Well, after so many years of peace—years of infamy, too—now we have … this. This darkness.”

“Is it dark?” Sam asked, her voice dripping sarcasm. “I hadn’t noticed.”

He stared at her. “I know that you’ve noticed.”

“Good. Then you don’t need to be concerned.”

“It’s most likely not a vampire matter,” he said.

“Which is great—you’ll be even less necessary.”

“I never wanted us to be hateful toward each other,” he said quietly.

Good old Daniel. Always controlled. She wanted him to be hateful—to rage against the powers and circumstances that had separated them. Apparently she wasn’t going to get her wish.

“I’m not being hateful,” she said with a shrug. “That would require me to actually feel something about you. Please, don’t be concerned on that account—I do not hate you. Frankly, and not to be rude, I really don’t think about you at all.”

What a lie! She missed him every day of her life. Every single day she hurt, trying to figure out exactly what happened, how it had happened …

“Actually,” he said. “That was … a smidgen rude.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just busy. Seriously, if you don’t mind, I have things to do.”

He stepped aside. “I’m staying down the street,” he said.

The Riverton house had sat empty now for some time, ever since Daniel’s parents had joined the council and he had followed, leaving her behind.

“How nice that you still have the house,” she said.

He smiled, looking down at her. It was that slow, easy, somehow rakish smile that he had always given her. There was something in that smile that seemed to speak of a unique, sensual relationship, of things shared that were incredibly special and wonderful. She saw all that and more in the smile that he gave her… .

Her—and probably dozens of others.

“Happy Christmas Eve,” he told her.

“Thanks. You, too.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

“Soon?”

“At your party, of course. I got the invitation. I remember your family’s Christmas parties—I’ve missed them.”

How the hell had he gotten an invitation?

Because he was on the damned mailing list. The e-vites had gone out automatically.

Great—just great. He’d not only walked back in on her today—she would see him again tonight.

Oh, joy.

Sam managed to escape him and hurried along the path to the house, willing herself not to trip. It was a cold winter. Plenty of snow had fallen already, snow too easily turned to ice. She would not embarrass herself in front of him by slipping on the ice and landing flat on her backside.

As he walked away, the stupid Santa began singing again: “I’m dreaming of a white Christmas.”

She somehow managed to refrain from yelling at it.

Forget Daniel Riverton, she told herself. She would do exactly that.

She had to.

Okay, just take a minute, she told herself. Take a minute; take a deep breath. Stop shaking. They had been so crazily, ridiculously in love. They’d spent all their time together. And once they’d gone away to college, they’d managed to slip away on regular “excursions,” once just to Boston, once to New York City and one glorious time to England, Ireland, Scotland and Wales. There was nothing she hadn’t loved about them together, sleeping together, waking together, shivering through horror movies, traveling and meeting interesting people along the way.

Even then, though, there were Others who had lifted their brows in disapproval.

What did they know? Mixed marriages were springing up everywhere.

She gave herself a firm mental shake; she was doing just fine. She was respected—she knew that most in the Other community gave her a thumbs-up. People still kept a wary eye on her less experienced cousins, but she loved them and knew that they would be fine, too—even June, who tried hard to appear strong, though she still felt overwhelmed by her Keeper role.

Sam made a note in her mind to make sure that the walkway was free of ice by this evening. She couldn’t have any eighty-year-olds—human or Other—crashing down and breaking a hip.

Tonight was traditionally a huge night for the Mycroft family and for the local Other community—and for those who knew about it and embraced it.

Salem was, in Sam’s opinion, an exceptionally fine community, and she felt privileged to be a Keeper here. Yes, at one time the Puritans had persecuted and executed poor human beings who were no more witches than they were angels. But that dark past had ultimately enlightened future generations. Now the city was filled with people of every religion, including the Wiccans—popularly if inaccurately identified as witches—whose presence had done so much to enhance the commercial value of what was now a tourist mecca. Salem was also home to many different Others, from vampires and werewolves to leprechauns, gnomes, selkies and more.

Every Christmas Eve—for centuries now—the Mycroft family had hosted a party celebrating faith, life, belief and love. The guests were of many faiths and many species—the requirement for the human guests, of course, was that they were among the few who knew about the Other community and respected its code of silence.

The world had come a long way from the days of the Salem witch trials—but not far enough. Knowing that your next-door neighbor was a vampire wouldn’t sit well with those who pictured vampires only as vicious bloodsuckers. They could never comprehend that the average, modern-day vampire was an upstanding member of the community—just one who had to survive on a great deal of slaughterhouse blood. Thankfully, due to the council and the widespread alliances that had been formed over the years, that commodity was readily available as long as you knew where to shop.

The minute she got inside, Sam leaned against the door and exhaled.

It was going to be a trying day and an even more difficult night, and she resented the hell out of that. Ever since she had been a small child, she had loved the Christmas season. But this year …

There was the darkness. And the suggestion that it might be caused by a vampire, and that she was failing in her duties as Keeper of the Vampires.

And now …

Daniel was back.

“Think of him as no more than a pesky fly that needs to be swatted,” she said aloud.

But even so, there were other problems. Her cousins were distracted, the cousins who should have been helping her.

This was the year Katie Sue was waiting for the love of her life, a selkie who could only return to land once every seven years. Talk about your long-distance relationships, Sam thought. But in truth, she was slightly jealous. Katie Sue was the selkie Keeper and she didn’t give a damn. She was in love with a selkie, and the hell with anyone who objected.

Her cousin June was just back from Europe; as Keeper of the Witches—the real witches, not the city’s many practicing Wiccans—she had been studying Celtic ways. She’d also, Sam thought, run away. She’d been madly in love, as well—only to find out the entire relationship had been the result of a spell.

And then, of course, there was her other cousin Rebekah whose greatest rival was also the man she loved, rendering any attempt at romance pointless.

None of them seemed to be lucky in love. Well, Katie Sue thought she was lucky—if seeing the one you loved once every seven years counted as luck.

She straightened. She was being too hard on herself and her cousins. They were good Keepers—especially considering the way they’d expected to have many more years to prepare and had simply been thrown into the fray when the International Council had been formed. They were just … Well, they had their own secret demons living in their souls, but they were able to step up to the plate when they needed.

And so what if Daniel was back? She still had matters to attend to. Mycroft House, first of all. There was a party tonight, darkness or no darkness, and she intended to be ready.

She looked around. The house was beautiful, and she allowed herself a moment’s pride.

It was an old house, of course. One of the oldest in Salem. The ceilings were low, and there were no closets in the upstairs bedrooms—the original settlers had used wardrobes and trunks. Back then, bedrooms were not elegant places of repose as they were now. They were where you slept when you weren’t working. The original house had consisted of a central hallway running front to back, a left room and a right room downstairs, and two bedrooms upstairs, along with a cellar and an attic. An addition in the early 1800s had given it a back wing and an upstairs apartment. Right now a gorgeous pine tree sparkled with lights to her right, while a menorah flickered from the mantel. Hard to know when to light the candles when you had a day without sundown. Both religious and secular adornments filled the house, which was colorful and festive—and demonstrated a respect for just about every belief out there.

She’d baked cookies and cakes, so the air was filled with the wonderful aromas of sugar and cinnamon and all things good.

She was ready.

Except, of course, for the last errand she had to run before welcoming her guests for the evening.

She was still leaning against the door when it began to open. She moved away quickly, startled for a moment, even a bit frightened, and then belatedly aware that it had to be her cousin June.

“Hey!” Sam said, jumping back and throwing the door open.

“Oh, good,” June said. “You’re still here. I was afraid I’d get here and you’d be gone already and I wouldn’t know what to do.”

“I was about to head out, but thank you for coming over. I really do have to run out for a bit. You’re a doll for helping out, and I really need you. This group … You never know how soon people will start showing up. Give Johnny Fields a call. I pay him to keep the ice and snow off the walk. You don’t need to do anything, really, except verify that he’ll be here and do it. There’s a ridiculous amount of food in the kitchen. Everything’s ready to go—juice, eggnog, ‘special’ Bloody Mary mix and regular Bloody Mary mix. I should be back in plenty of time, but in case I’m not, you can go ahead and start serving.”

June was as pretty as a picture; she looked like a gorgeous gamin. Of all the cousins, she was the tiniest. She was also …

Eyes wide, June interrupted Sam’s thoughts. “Okay, but please hurry. I’m not the hostess you are.”

June was just a little overwhelmed, Sam told herself again. She tried so hard to appear refreshed and happy to be home, but coming back had been hard for her.

She loved her craft and her witches. Despite popular belief, even the real ones tended to love the earth, nature and being kind to their fellow man.

Sam offered her a smile. “You’re friendly, beautiful and a sweetheart. You’re the perfect hostess. The older ladies from the Baptist church sometimes show up early, but they’re sweethearts and easy to talk to. The Catholic crew tends to come late, and it’s hard to figure exactly when the Protestant groups will arrive. Rabbi Solomon comes really early sometimes, too. I don’t expect any of the Others to arrive too early, but every once in a while the leprechauns are feeling feisty. Don’t let them goad the Baptists. Okay, I’m off. I’ll be back quickly, I promise. I just have to pick up that Christmas mix CD from Mica and the cold-cut platter from the grocery store.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” June assured her, though she didn’t sound terribly convinced.

Sam turned and fled the house—and her too-vivid memories of Daniel’s return.

She was already in the historic district—Mycroft House was a federal landmark property. All she had to do was hurry down Essex Street to reach Ye Olde Tyme Shoppe, the establishment owned by her friend, Mica Templeton. Mica was a witch—a real witch, not a Wiccan. There was a world of difference. One was a state of being, while the other was a religious choice.

“Hey there,” Mica said. She had just been locking one of the cases where she kept beautiful locally crafted jewelry. “I was starting to worry that you weren’t going to show up.”

“Sorry. I’ve been running late all day. I forgot I’d promised to do a speech this morning for the Brattle Corporation board—they’re looking to open an office in Salem. They’re an internet company, and they’ll bring us a lot of great jobs, so … Well, yeah, I know, it’s Christmas Eve, but I gave the speech anyway.”

“Did you take them through the cemetery and do one of your dramatic scenes, then tell them that the poor condemned during the trials weren’t even allowed Christian burials?” Mica asked, and grinned. “Then tell them all to take care, because you never know who from history might be wandering the streets?”

“Of course not. I only do that at Halloween,” Sam told her.

“And I’m getting ready to close up for your party—where you should be already. This is pretty much it for the holiday season, but I did a lot of business.”

Mica usually did a lot of business. She carried gorgeous handmade capes and cloaks, a truly artistic line of shirts and spells, potions, herbs and other paraphernalia for the local Wiccans and tourists alike. Plus the jewelry. At Christmas she added beautiful one-of-a-kind ornaments, along with candles and garlands—and, for the local Jewish community, elegant menorahs.

“I need that CD you were making for me.”

“Oh, yes, of course. I’m sorry I couldn’t get it to you sooner.”

“It doesn’t matter. I have to stop at the grocery store on Essex, too,” Sam assured her, studying Mica as she went to get the CD.

Her friend was a very pretty woman, with bright blue eyes and pitch-black hair. She turned half of the shop into a haunted house at Halloween. Creatures came out to “attack” the shoppers, who were saved by the “witches who guarded the woods.”

Mica returned, holding on to the CD a little too tightly as she studied Sam.

“You’ve seen him, right? You know he’s back in town?”

“You mean Daniel, right?” Sam said. “Yes, I’ve seen him.”

Mica nodded. “He’s even better looking than I remembered.”

“He looks the same. He’s good-looking. So what? So are a lot of men.”

“Oh, yeah? Then why haven’t you dated any other men in the past two years?”

“Looks aren’t everything,” Sam said.

That caused Mica to laugh. “No, of course not. But Daniel is also intelligent, funny, concerned for humanity, charming… .”

“And he left me.”

“Hmm. If I remember correctly, you told him to go.”

“Look, Mica, the International Council was forming and everything was changing. His parents were against the relationship and so were mine. Everyone frowned on Keepers seeing their charges.”

“Sleeping with their charges, you mean,” Mica corrected.

Sam glared at her.

“You were totally in love with him. You’re still in love with him.”

“Mica …”

“And he’s still madly in love with you. I can see it. The two of you really need to cut out the noble crap. I can burn the right incense for the two of you, you know, and say all the right prayers.”

“They’d better be prayers and not love spells,” Sam warned her.

“Never,” Mica promised her. “You two don’t need a love spell.”

“And I don’t need him. We’re dealing with far more serious matters,” Sam said.

“The darkness,” Mica murmured. “Sam, there’s no reason to think a vampire is behind it. I know Dracula is referred to as the ‘Prince of Darkness,’ but that doesn’t mean anything. We both know how much novelists love to go crazy making up legends so they can sell more books. I mean, the vamps—especially the ones here in Salem—have practically been angels for years now, other than an isolated incident here or there. And those are always handled perfectly by the Keepers, of course. But—” Mica suddenly stopped speaking, looking at Sam with wide eyes.

“But what?” Sam demanded.

“Nothing.”

“Don’t you dare look at me like that and then say nothing’s wrong!”

“Well …” Mica said.

“Well, what?” Sam demanded.

“There is August Avery,” Mica said.

“What about August?” Sam asked, her eyes narrowing. August was a young vampire, a senior in college. Like many his age, he’d taken a bit of a twisted path, experimenting with drugs and causing his share of trouble around town. But none of it had been more than mischief, really, and Sam was sure he was just struggling to find himself the way kids often did.

“He was probably just being August,” Mica said.

“By?”

“Well, he was in here muttering about the fact that only vampires know what eternal darkness really means,” Mica said.

Sam stiffened. “I’m going to have to talk with him,” she said. “And, Mica—” she said, pointing a finger at her friend “—you have to tell me when someone says something like that. This darkness is real, and whatever’s causing it, it’s nothing to play around with.”

As she spoke, the little bell above the shop door tinkled. She swung around to see who’d entered.

Daniel Riverton.

“Daniel!” Mica cried happily. “I’d heard that you were back in town.”

Leave it to Mica.

“Great, just great,” Sam muttered.

And while Mica rushed forward to give Daniel a welcoming hug, Sam took the opportunity to hurriedly escape the shop.

And another encounter with the love of her life.

The love of her life who had deserted her—even if she had told him to go.

Chapter 2

Samantha Mycroft, head high, nodded Daniel’s way as Mica rushed forward to greet him.

Sam left the shop; he heard the little bell tinkling—a toll in his heart—as she went past.

“Daniel, so good to see you. What a lovely Christmas Eve gift you are for our community,” Mica told him.

If only Sam saw it that way, he thought.

While he was here—had been sent here—because of the darkness, there had been little on his mind except for Sam.

But then, there had been little on his mind besides Sam in all the years he’d been gone.

He knew there were people who believed that love at first sight wasn’t real, that everyone had any number of potential matches in the world.

But from the moment he had seen Sam, when they had both been little children, he’d known that she was meant to be in his life. And as he’d grown, he’d known that she was the girl—and then the woman—who was what romantics called a soul mate, the one person he was meant to be with for his entire lifetime.

Life, however, had gotten in the way.

“Mica, it’s wonderful to see you,” he told her.

She drew back and looked around. “Well, um, sorry. I guess Sam moved on. She’s in a hurry today—big party at Mycroft House, of course. And it’s left to her now to make sure the tradition continues and all goes well.”

“She hates me, Mica,” he said flatly.

“No! No, of course not. She’s just hurt, and, okay, maybe a little bit mad.”

Be that as it may, he was here on a mission. He wished that Sam could understand that the council hadn’t sent him to usurp her territory, just to help in whatever way he could. In truth, the council members didn’t believe that a vampire was guilty of causing the constant darkness. But, he wondered, was that only because they didn’t want to believe? Possibly. In any case, he’d been sent to help, and the logical place to start was with Sam, because she wasn’t just the Keeper for the vampires, she was the backbone for the new young community of Keepers.

“She refuses to talk to me,” he said.

“Well, you didn’t come back to talk to her, did you?” she asked, staring at him. “You’re here because of the darkness.”

He shrugged. “I’m here with a different perspective on life, too. But yes, I’m here because of the darkness. The council sent me.”

“Ouch. Sorry, but that has to make her resent your being here right from the get-go.”

“I know, but she’s got to get past that. The darkness is out there,” he said. “We all, as a community, have to find a way to stop it. It can only be a harbinger of something far more sinister. The whole world could be at risk.”

“But it’s only in our area,” she said.

“For now,” he told her. “So I’m no fool and I’m sure the two of you were talking about me and why I’m back, so what were you and Sam saying?”

“Daniel, I’m friends with both of you—that isn’t fair.”

“Spill, Mica.”

“I can’t. Really.”

He held her eyes, his gaze steely, and finally she sighed and spoke again.

“Oh, all right,” she said. “There’s a kid who’s been walking around saying stuff, behaving as if he might have something to do with what’s going on—even though I’m sure he doesn’t. August Avery. Do you remember him?”

“He’s really not a kid anymore, Mica. We’re only about five years older.”

“I think he’s just being rebellious. We’ve all said wild things now and then.”

“Thanks, Mica,” Daniel said.

“Wait! What are you doing?” she demanded as he walked to the door.

“Going out to support my Keeper,” he told her softly.

“Oh, no! She’ll know I told you.”

“See you at the party,” he said, and hurried out of the store. He stopped on the sidewalk and looked up at the sky. Christmas Eve, middle of the day—and the darkness was nearly complete.

Christmas Eve, yes. And he’d seen Sam. His heart ached.

Essex Street was busy with last-minute shoppers—both Others and humans—and even with the ominous darkness, people were stopping to hug and wish each other a happy holiday.

Because Christmas was about love, he thought. Forgiveness, love, family, sharing …

A beautiful season, no matter what religion one believed in.

A beautiful season in which …

He paused in the middle of Essex Street. Salem had witnessed laughter and tears, love and prejudice. Now bright, colorful lights were ablaze in the street at noon.

He looked up to the sky. “Christmas is about another chance, too, isn’t it?” he said aloud. He thought about Sam and her sleek auburn hair, her brilliant green eyes. He thought about the way they had been together, both of them opinionated but able to argue and laugh, debate and fall into one another’s arms until …

Until the end.

And then they had both just walked away.

“All I want for Christmas …” he said softly as he started walking, “… is Sam.” Because he knew now that they weren’t responsible for solving every problem in the world.

They were only responsible for doing their part, and then—he prayed it was not too late—for living as if it were Christmas every day of their lives.

Sam needed to find August Avery before the evening festivities began. Because if he didn’t show up at the party, she would spend the whole time wondering what he was doing.

Afraid of what he was doing.

Christmas music seemed to be playing from everywhere. Speakers above the open pedestrian mall rang out with “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.” One of the “haunted” houses was playing “Santa Baby,” and the giant werewolf in the window was dressed in a Santa suit.

That reminded her that she needed to check in with Victor Alden—the werewolf who played Santa for the party every year—and make sure he was ready to go.

She was actually reaching into her bag for her cell phone when she realized that she was standing right in front of Father Mulroney.

“Samantha!” he said cheerfully, greeting her with a kiss on the cheek. “Merry, merry Christmas Eve.”

She offered him a weak smile. She loved Father Mulroney. Everyone did. She had never met anyone as open to different beliefs and convinced of the all-encompassing nature of God’s love as Father Mulroney. His heart had room for everyone and he looked for the good in every situation.

“Hi, Father, wonderful to see you. You will be at the party this evening, right?”

“I would never miss an occasion where so many hearts come together in good cheer to celebrate the joy of the season,” he replied.

Her smile faded. “Oh, Father, I’m not so sure about this year,” she said.

He looked at her quizzically. He was a lean man with snow-white hair and bright blue eyes, and he reminded her of Father Time.

“You mean the darkness?” he asked her.

“Yes. It’s frightening and disturbing—and I don’t know what it means,” she admitted. “Father, everyone is worried about the darkness,” she added.

“Well, it would be wonderful to find out exactly what is going on,” he admitted. “But I’m not worried about the darkness, Samantha. Someone will get to the bottom of it.”

“Yes, soon, I hope,” she murmured.

He set his hands on her shoulders. “True darkness can only exist in the heart, Samantha. Let your heart be light, and that will do away with the darkness.”

For a moment she thought that the day actually became a little brighter.

“You do what you need to do, young lady,” he told her. “But remember—light burns from within. It’s in the heart and soul of all of us.”

Impulsively, she kissed his cheek. “Thank you,” she told him. She refrained from saying, Oh, Father Mulroney, I’m just not feeling that light.

And she had to go, because time was running short. She had the CD, so now all she needed was the cold-cut platter—and to find August Avery.

“See you in a bit,” she said, trying to sound cheerful—as if a light were shining deep in her heart.

She hurried by him.

Ten minutes later she’d picked up the cold cuts, and though she was only a matter of blocks from her house, she wished she’d brought her car. The platter seemed to weigh a thousand pounds.

Like the darkness.

Her cell phone started ringing when she was still a block away from home. She couldn’t possibly reach it and had to figure that whoever it was would leave a message, so she could just call back once she’d dropped off the food and headed back out to find August.

When she reached the house, arms straining, June was ready to greet her at the door. She passed the singing Santa—who was using Peggy Lee’s voice and singing “Santa Baby”—and made it up the steps to the porch.

“Thank heaven you’re here. What are you going to do about the problem?” June asked.

“Problem? What problem?” Sam asked worriedly.

“There’s—there’s been a bite!” June said in horror.

“Where? Who?”

“Some tourist was watching a band play on Salem Common when all of a sudden she started screaming. She was rushed to the hospital about ten minutes ago,” June said. “I was trying to reach you.”

“Ten minutes—how do you know all this?”

“No, no,” June said. “It’s already on YouTube and Twitter. And the local news is all over it, too.”

“Over a bite? Calm down, June. Tell me slowly. Maybe it was a dog bite, or a crazy squirrel, or a bird swooped down and—”

“No, it wasn’t a dog, a bird or a crazy squirrel,” June said, staring at her evenly. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

She set the platter on the table next to the turkey Sam had cooked and the two women rushed past the Christmas tree in the formal parlor, the menorah on the mantel and the Nativity scene to one side of the archway and into the family room. The flat-screen TV was on; June had obviously been watching. There was Salem Common, white with snow and filled with people. The Believers, a local group, had been playing Christmas music, but according to the reporter on scene the show had stopped abruptly when a young woman had suddenly begun to scream loudly, leading to chaos. She had received what was by all accounts a human bite; the young man sitting next to her had suddenly lunged closer and bitten her.

“Did you record any of this?” Sam asked June tensely.

“Of course,” June assured her.

Sam glanced at her. “Thank you. You’re thinking like a Keeper,” she said.

June hit the remote. The local station had been airing live from the concert even before all hell broke loose, and they’d done a good job panning the crowd, allowing Sam to slow the recording and search faces.

She gasped. There was August Avery. A handsome man in his early twenties, he was in a wool coat, watching the concert, hands in his pockets. The girl next to him smiled at him, and he gave her a smile back. August bent as if he was about to whisper in her ear, his eyes light, his fingers moving back a lock of tawny hair.

And then the screaming began.

Sam swore. “All right, June, I have to leave the rest of the party prep to you—I’m off to find August,” she said, then turned to rush back out of the house.

She opened the door and crashed right into Mrs. Livia Peabody, a local scion of the Baptist church.

“Sam, dear, the house looks beautiful! Am I the first to arrive? I’m always the first—and let me say, perhaps I will also be the first in heaven.”

“It’s lovely that you arrive so early,” Sam said quickly. “June will take your coat. I’m afraid I forgot something, so I need to run out. I’m so sorry.”

She sped past Livia before the older woman could stop her.

The plastic Santa began to sing “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer.”

Sam raced out to the road, wondering who on earth had thought it was a good idea to put that song onto the playlist of a smiling plastic Santa—and realized that she didn’t know where she was going.

Stop, think, she told herself.

The house wasn’t far from Salem Common, so she hurried in that direction.

Would August have stayed around?

Perhaps. He might have been eager to see the chaos his actions had caused.

She passed crowds of people on the streets, both locals and tourists. While Salem’s main tourist season was summer through to Halloween, people poured in for the holidays as well, because the town and its inhabitants knew how to do Christmas.

Bright lights were shining everywhere, and at least half the people she saw were wearing red and green. But when she listened as she passed them, they were all talking about the tourist who’d claimed she was bitten during the concert.

“At least the poor girl is going to live,” one woman said to her male companion, shaking her head as she read the latest news on her smartphone. “Apparently she didn’t lose much blood. But the doctor says it was definitely a human bite, which is ridiculous. Humans don’t bite.”

“Are you sure of that?” the man said with a smile. Remember how James bit the dog when he was two?”

“That’s different,” she said. “James was teething at the time.”

Sam hurried past them, glad to hear that the woman was going to live. As long as she didn’t bleed to death, the damage could be repaired.

She reached Salem Common, bright under the lights that had been set up for the concert. People were still standing around in little groups. The live music had stopped; now the music came from a sound box up on the stage.

She saw a couple of local college students talking to Nils Westerly, a young vampire. His friends obviously had no idea what he was or they would have run away shrieking, considering the earlier events.

Sam headed toward him with long strides. He saw her and went pale.

“Nils!” she called, then asked, “Did you see August Avery here earlier?”

“Um, hey, Samantha,” he said, his expression uneasy. “Meet my friends Charlie Sizemore and David Hough.”

She nodded curtly to both men.

“Wow, Nils, you should introduce us to all your friends,” the man named David said. “Nice to meet you, Samantha.” He offered her a hand, his smile obviously flirtatious.

She smiled back briefly but ignored his hand. “Nils, where’s August?”

“I don’t know. I swear I don’t know, Samantha,” Nils said. There was a pleading tone in his voice. “He was here earlier, but then I lost sight of him. He’s been depressed lately.”

“Depressed? Why? What has he been saying?” she demanded.

“His girlfriend left him,” Charlie offered. “He was madly in love with her—and she just up and left him.”

“When?” Sam asked.

They all looked surprised by her interest, but they answered her anyway.

“Uh, I’m not sure,” David said. “Recently. He was crushed—went on and on about Christmas being a sham, that there was no love in the world and when love did exist, the world conspired to make it end badly. He says he hates what he is … Though, you know, I didn’t get that, ‘cause honestly? His grades are great, and he’s on the football team—a starter.”

“Do you have any idea where he hangs out?” Sam asked.

“He likes to walk around the Old Burying Ground,” Nils said.

“Or Dead Horse Beach,” Charlie said. “Crazy—middle of winter, the guy likes to hang around at the beach.”

Sam inhaled a deep breath. From the Common she could see the Gothic edifice of the Salem Witch Museum. It was one of the best venues in the city if you were looking for a concise history of the witch trials, she thought. She just hoped August Avery’s stupidity wasn’t going to plunge them into another dark era worthy of a museum.

“Thank you,” she told the boys, then turned and hurried away from the Common, passing last-minute shoppers and carolers.

It wasn’t late; it wasn’t even evening yet—it just felt like it because of the darkness.

She passed the Hawthorne Hotel and raced back down Essex Street, turning to head toward the Old Burying Ground.

A sign announced that it closed at dusk. As if that word meant anything anymore!

Despite the holiday, a few people were visiting the memorial connected to the cemetery, sitting on the benches provided for visitors paying homage to the innocents who had been executed. She’d always thought the place was beautifully done and that there was something extremely special and poignant there, especially in winter, when the tree limbs were skeletal and the old gravestones rose beyond the memorial in the cemetery itself.

She hurried through the memorial area and entered the cemetery.

Gravestones broke through the snow that covered the ground. She hurried through them, thinking of what it had been like growing up in Salem—knowing the town’s history, learning the lessons of tolerance born of hate.

“Samantha!”

Startled at the sound of her name, she turned quickly. For a moment she didn’t see anyone. Then old Ogden Taylor—a benevolent ghost who often chose to haunt the cemetery—materialized.

Ogden had been arrested during the witch craze, but when the governor disbanded the first court and refused to allow spectral evidence, he had been judged innocent. Luckily he’d had the money to pay for his time in jail and his chains, and he had lived another forty years.

“Ogden,” she said, smiling.

“Merry Christmas Eve,” he told her, and smiled back. She felt the cold touch of his fingers on her cheeks. “Dear girl, what are you doing running around in the cemetery? You should be getting ready for your annual gala.”

“Ogden … I have to find one of my charges. August Avery. He bit someone, and I’m worried that he … The darkness … Oh, never mind.”

“Oh, dear! That’s certainly a shock. And on Christmas Eve.” Ogden had long, curling gray hair that gave him a dignified look beneath his hat. He wore a handsome frockcoat and carried a cane. He looked at her curiously. “Were you saying you think this fellow has something to do with the darkness? Doesn’t seem like something a vampire could manage.”

“I don’t know, Ogden. I know we all have to worry about it, though. And I know that I have to find him before he bites someone else.”

“He was here,” Ogden said.

“He was? But he’s gone now?”

Ogden nodded somberly. “He came through, sat on a grave, cried like a baby—then hopped up and jumped the fence down to the street. I tried to talk to him, but you know how it is. People don’t hear me or see me unless they choose to.”

“Thank you, Ogden. Thank you so much.”

“I’ll see you later—I love to slip into your house during the party. And don’t worry—I won’t materialize and scare anyone, I promise. I just love all the love that fills the house when you have everyone over.”

“You’re always welcome,” Sam assured him.

She went into vampire mode to give herself added strength and speed, grateful for her Keeper ability to take on the characteristics of her charges, then leaped over the fence and raced down the street. Dead Horse Beach was a fair way off; she had to hurry if she was going to get there in time to prevent further trouble.

She ran past the crowds still thronging the streets, past the brewery where the Christmas celebrations seemed to be in full swing. She raced by one of her favorite tourist attractions: a popular museum housing an array of movie monsters.

But she couldn’t pause to think about the things she loved about Salem. She couldn’t even pause to think about the words that Ogden had spoken: that he loved the love that filled her house on Christmas Eve.

Those words made her think about Father Mulroney, too.

Light burns from within.

Well, her light didn’t seem to be shining very brightly anymore.

She realized she probably should have taken her car if she didn’t want to be noticed because a woman racing down the street as if the hounds of hell were at her heels didn’t really blend into the crowd. Once she made it out of the busy tourist area, she slipped behind a tree and emerged as a bat, which would certainly raise a lot less notice than her other available option: a wolf.

At one time, Dead Horse Beach had been well beyond the residential area and, legend had it, people would therefore use it to bury their dead horses. Eventually it became known as Dead Horse Beach—a strange name for a beautiful little spot of land. It offered a view to the northwest, making it a popular place to watch sunsets in the summer.

In winter …

In winter it was a cold stretch of sand near Willows Park, fringed by the skeletal brush and trees of winter, frigidly cold when the night wind blew.

Sam gauged her abilities as she flew. She didn’t change often, and her sonar wasn’t good. Near the House of the Seven Gables, she swooped low. Something was going on at the property—something that created a burst of light against the darkness.

A holiday bonfire surrounded by laughing partygoers.

Salem residents were a resilient lot. They would have their holiday parties no matter what.

She was glad of that. Concentrating, she lifted herself higher into the sky. She passed over residential streets and out where the houses thinned out, and soon she was soaring above Willows Park and wishing that she could smile as she heard the laughter of children. There was snow on the ground, and the air was crisp and cool, but it wasn’t a bad night for winter. This year they even had the 1866 carousel up and running, and the children loved it.

She got to the beach at last and made an awkward pitched landing on the frosty sand as she shifted back into human form and stumbled to her feet. She saw someone standing in about a foot of ice-cold water.

“August! August Avery, what in the world are you doing?” she called to him.

He looked back at her.

It was a day with no sun, and the moon had yet to rise in the sky over the gray clouds of winter. From a distance, Christmas lights twinkled as if they were colorful little rays of hope.

“Sam!” he said. “Sam, I’m sorry.”

Then he turned and continued walking into the icy sea.

Sam rushed into the water. It hit her flesh like a wave of knives, it was so icy cold. “August!” she shouted again as the salty spray shot up over her face and onto her lips.

She struggled to keep her footing. The waves were vicious. She was still in the shallows, but the swells threatened to bring her down.

She wondered how long it would take for hypothermia to set in.

“August!” Despite the spray of frigid salt water that stung her lips, she kept calling him. She couldn’t see him. He must have gone into the water. Then, twenty feet away, a head popped up.

August Avery was dead set on drowning himself. She allowed herself a small grim smile at the pun.

She plunged after him, her heart thundering. She couldn’t let him die.

She could have sworn she heard the distant sound of her plastic Santa singing.

“Oh, holy night …”

Chapter 3

Nearly too late!

Daniel Riverton had seen the news and recognized August, and he’d done some investigating among the kid’s friends and found out about the breakup. He’d even found the girl who had ditched August, and frankly, he hadn’t been impressed.

Her name was Ciara Mullins, and she’d been sulky and rather full of herself when he found her hanging out with a group of her friends. A pretty thing, yes, but vacant and empty, and not in the least concerned with anyone else. The great thing about being a vampire was that he could look at her, capture her gaze with his own and get anything out of her that he wanted, silently compelling her to tell the truth.

She was convinced that she was just passing time in college, getting a degree only to mollify her parents. When she graduated she was going to head to New York City, where she would walk around in Times Square until she was discovered. Agents and directors would flock to her, of course. She was beautiful.

If the situation hadn’t been so serious, he would have found it all a bit amusing, because she was speaking honestly, compelled by his will and demand for the truth. When she finally finished speaking about herself, she went on to August Avery.

He was very cute, she admitted. He had something. Some kind of mystique. But she was above a relationship with anyone in Salem. The world was waiting for her. And he was such a silly boy. He loved to go on long walks at Dead Horse Beach—even in the middle of winter.

Daniel left Ciara in the midst of her friends, who were all staring at her, stunned and appalled.

He didn’t feel guilty that he’d forced her to bare her soul. Her soul could use some help, which just might come her way now in the form of a serious wakeup call from her friends.

But when he reached Dead Horse Beach, following up on what she had said about August’s fondness for the place, he was afraid he was too late. Looking out, he saw nothing at first.

And then … something, a leap of motion in the depths of a wave. He narrowed his vision and focused, and he felt as if his heart leaped into his throat.

August Avery was out there, all right—struggling like crazy with Sam.

Daniel was good at everything vampires were supposed to be good at—he’d been forced to be, enduring hours of training with the council. Vampires were like everyone else, really. Some people had a talent for music, some for art and some with numbers and gadgets and electronics. He had never been fond of turning into a bat or a wolf. He’d grown up being taught that all creatures had a right to walk the earth, and that a man—any man—owed compassion and aid to every creature on the earth. Becoming a wolf or a bat did nothing to further any of those ends. However, he’d learned to use his speed, his tremendous strength and the power of his mind to compensate for his unwillingness to shift. And so, in the blink of an eye, he was out there in the water, wresting the struggling August away from Samantha, who had to be growing exhausted.

After all, she was only using borrowed powers—the gift every Keeper received.

But those powers could never equal his. On the other hand, she had what he never could: humanity. The ability to really see and appreciate the sunlight, to function as effectively in the light as she did in the dark.

None of that mattered now, though. The water was close to freezing and while August Avery was a fool, he wouldn’t die, only turn into a popsicle.

Samantha, on the other hand …

“My God!” Sam gasped, head just above the water. “He really is intent on this!”

“I’ve got him—I’ve got him. Get yourself out of the water,” he told her.

She nodded. He’d always respected her for being realistic about her own abilities and limitations, as well as those of everyone around her, both human and Other. She could be stubborn, but not when it came to getting something done.

She made it to the shore, although once she crawled up on the sand she started shivering so violently that she almost seemed to be engaged in some form of St. Vitus dance.

Daniel tossed August, who was gasping and choking, down on the sand by her side. Then Daniel used his enhanced ability for speed to burst into a nearby convenience store and rush back with a huge thermal blanket that he wrapped around her—making a mental note to find a way to pay the owner later.

August shivered and sputtered, but not for long.

“What are you trying to do, August?” Samantha demanded. “Don’t you know it’s impossible for you to drown?”

“But not Samantha,” Daniel said harshly.

“I bit someone,” August said, his voice filled with self-disgust and loathing. “I bit someone. I don’t know what happened to me. I was upset … hurt. I don’t know. I wanted to feel … better. No, strong. As if I couldn’t be hurt. I was horrible. I deserve to die.”

“You didn’t kill her, August. She’s going to be all right. She’ll have some nightmares, and she’ll be sick for a few days, but she’ll be fine. Yes, you behaved badly—horribly. What you did threatens our very existence. But you’re lucky. We’re all lucky. She didn’t die, and what happened can be explained as a college prank, someone going a little loopy. And you stopped, that’s the point. The good in you won out. You hurt her, yes—but you stopped. You’re not a killer. You did know better,” Daniel said. “That doesn’t demand a death sentence.”

August looked at them both. “Oh, yeah? I betrayed us all. I was evil at heart. I brought on the darkness!”

Daniel was startled when Sam laughed at that.

August appeared to be indignant. “What? You think I couldn’t have caused this?” he demanded.

“August, I don’t think any vampire could have caused this,” Samantha said. “I wish I could believe that it was a vampire—because then I could do something about it. But I think it’s a different form of Other who brought this about. It’s just not in our realm. Not to mention that the darkness began before you bit that girl—the darkness has been coming on for a while now.”

“So what? Is it going to last forever?” August asked. “I can’t bear it!”

“Hey,” Daniel said, hunkering down by him. “Vampires love the dark. We shouldn’t be suffering the way so many other people and Others are. Fairies—they must be struggling. And the leprechauns—when it’s dark too long, they get ridiculously grumpy. And human beings—they get seasonal depression, cabin fever. Come on, August. It can’t be that bad.”

August looked at Samantha. “I am so sorry. I really didn’t want to hurt that woman. I just—I just want to stop the hurt in me.”

“As your Keeper, and since you did stop before really hurting that poor woman at the concert, I am willing to think about probation,” Samantha told him. “What you did is wrong, but you know that. Come on, August—it can’t be that bad.”

“I think—I think I was caught on video. People will know what I did,” August said.

“I can get in and get rid of the video,” Daniel said.

Samantha nodded. “And one of us can go see the victim. A little hypnotism will get rid of her memories.” She smiled. “You might deserve a little jail time, but I don’t want attention focused on the vampires. You don’t need to learn remorse—you know remorse. Except that you know damned well that you can’t drown, so what were you trying to do?”

“I thought if I froze, perhaps my head would break off,” August said.

“August! That’s terrible. You have a family—people who love you.”

“You think? My father is always furious with me.”

“Fathers are always furious with their sons,” Daniel assured him.

“I don’t want to live,” August said bleakly.

“August—all this over a girl?” Samantha demanded. “Come on. Life is like that for all of us—sometimes we fall in love with someone who just doesn’t love us in return. But we get over the hurt and move on. And if you can do that, then the right person can find you—the person who appreciates you for all the incredible things you are.”

“It’s not just Ciara,” he said wistfully, meeting Samantha’s eyes. “It’s the world. Love has left the world. That’s why it’s dark. No one loves anyone anymore.” He waved a hand in the air. “No one stays together. Nothing means anything. Why bother?”

“Of course people stay together,” Samantha said.

“My parents are talking about splitting up,” August said. “Love is all a lie, a joke. Christmas cheer, the spirit of the season—hah!”

“You’re wrong,” Samantha said passionately. “There’s a lot of love and goodness out there. All the time. The point of the holiday season is that it’s a good time for all of us to stop and think about what we have, about all the wonderful things in our lives.”

“Yeah? Well, what are they?” August demanded.

“Come on, August,” Daniel said, shaking his head. “Life may be tough right now, but you have a lot to be grateful for—you had it good growing up. And you’re special.”

“Yeah, special.”

“Privileged,” Sam said, her patience growing thin. “You’re a vampire. You have strength that others couldn’t begin to possess. You can literally soar, and you can run like the wind. Yes, you have responsibilities, too, because you’re part of a special breed. But you have people who love you, an entire community that cares fiercely for you, and if one love affair goes wrong, you can move on and look for the next.”

“What are you talking about?” August asked. “Look at the two of you. Yes, I know about the two of you.” He stared at Samantha, then Daniel, and finally returned his attention back to Samantha. “Everyone knows about the two of you. You were the perfect couple. But the world threw a monkey wrench into things, so you two just caved in and threw everything away.”

Samantha was obviously taken by surprise. She turned bright red and gaped at August for a moment, and strained not to glance in Daniel’s direction. Her jaw seemed to be locked hard.

“August—” she began, but he cut her off.

“Yeah, right, it’s Christmas Eve. I have to be cheerful, look on the bright side of things. Except it’s dark as pitch out here.”

“Yes, and I think you enjoyed pretending that you were causing the darkness,” Samantha said.

“Because I am dark,” August said.

“Drama queen, more like,” Daniel commented.

“You’re being an immature brat, if you ask me,” Samantha said.

Daniel almost laughed. She’d been trying so hard to be gentle with August, but when she finally lost her temper, it seemed to affect him more than anything else she had said.

It was his turn to grow flustered. “I—I—Uh, yeah. I’m sorry.”

“You’re hurt and you’re lashing out,” Samantha said. “And I’m freezing. Could we move this conversation back to my house? The party has started by now, and we’re going to go in looking like drowned rats—not to mention I think I have icicles dripping off my nose.”

“I’m so sorry,” August said. “I really didn’t want to hurt you, Samantha.”

“August, you don’t really want to hurt anyone,” Sam said. “I can see that. We can both see that.”

“Let’s go,” Daniel said. “Sam is freezing.” As much as he disliked it, sometimes there were no other options, so he transformed himself into a bat, assuming the other two would quickly follow.

August flew with him, but he realized that Samantha was missing and looked back down toward the beach.

She was struggling, wet and soggy, on the sand, one wing dragging.

Swearing softly, he swooped down beside her, transforming back into a man. August quickly followed suit, as did Samantha, though she changed more slowly.

“Okay, so this isn’t going to work for me when I’m this soaked,” she said. “You two go ahead and get back and—”

“Not in this lifetime,” Daniel said. “We head back together. We’ll just go on foot.”

“That will take us forever,” she said.

“Then we’ll call a taxi.” Daniel reached into his pocket for his cell. He began to key in a number, then realized his phone was soaked.

“I threw mine in the bushes,” August said. “I’ll find it.” He emerged a moment later. “I was going to call Ciara and tell her I was killing myself because of her,” he admitted.

“Did you?” Daniel asked him.

“No, I chickened out,” August admitted.

“No, you were smart,” Daniel told him.

“Really?” August asked.

“You don’t want her having that power over you,” Daniel said. “Trust me—you’re going to get over her. And when you’re over her, you’re going to be glad that she never knew you wanted to call it quits because of her.”

August looked at Samantha, waiting for her opinion. “I don’t know your girlfriend, but—”

“Ex-girlfriend. She dumped me, remember?”

“I don’t know her, but I do know you. Yes, you’ve made some trouble, you’ve let her lead you around a little bit. So let me be blunt. Use this occasion to grow some balls. You can be whatever you want to be. Get over this and move forward. Decide on a dream and go for it.”

“She was my dream!” August said.

“Don’t be an idiot!” Sam said, growing impatient. She was really freezing now, and she needed to get home. “I told you to grow some balls.”

Somehow, Daniel managed not to laugh at the stunned expression on August’s face as he said, “All right, let’s get going.” He knew Sam wasn’t going to manage the trip on her own, so he swept his arm up to transform and enwrapped her in his hold before she could protest. She realized his intent.

She didn’t protest. She had to have been really cold. At his side, August Avery transformed, as well.

A moment later they were flying. The night air was cold, but he kept her within his hold and protected her from the force of the wind, keeping her as warm as possible while managing a decent level and speed.

He tried not to tremble at having her so near after so much time apart, but it was impossible.

He’d learned a lot in the past two years. They’d both been way too young when the council was formed, dutiful children who had behaved in a way they had considered responsible, by virtue of their birth.

What they had lacked was wisdom and a sense of perspective.

And the knowledge of just how rare it was to find the kind of love they had shared.

And now that he knew those things …

It was too late.

Samantha had taken on not only the vampires but all of Salem as her responsibility. She was there to guide her cousins, to watch out for everyone. She had grown up and grown strong, and she had closed her heart to him.

He’d dreamed of a chance to come home for Christmas and get her alone, leading to a passionate declaration. In two years, he hadn’t forgotten a thing. They’d both been swept up in the nobility of serving, when there had been no need. They could serve and still be together. Others had feared for them. That was understandable. But those Others had been wrong. He had never stopped loving her; he had never strayed from her. All he wanted was a chance.

And now the darkness might give it to him.

Because while he didn’t believe it was a vampire matter, he knew that Samantha’s feeling that the whole town was hers to protect meant it was still her responsibility.

They could stand strong together, he thought.

If only she would let that happen… .

Chapter 4

When they neared the center of town, Daniel slowed down to a less noticeable pace and August fell into step beside him.

“We can’t exactly walk into your party looking like this,” Daniel said to Samantha. “But my house is nearby, so let’s get over there and dry off.”

“Have you suddenly started carrying a supply of women’s clothing?” Samantha asked him.

“No, but I can get you in front of a fire while you figure out what to do next.”

She nodded, and they hurried down the street toward his house.

Like Samantha’s home, it was old, with low ceilings and exposed beams throughout. Sam had to admit the Rivertons had done a beautiful job, sticking with the old but bringing in the new. There was something that spoke of a long-ago gentility in the parlor: the drapes were heavy damask, and the hand-hewn furniture was covered in shades of royal blue and crimson. But they rushed by the formal parlor and back to the family room, where the double fireplace—which opened to the parlor on the other side—was framed by a mantel that held family pictures going back generations. The furniture was comfortable, soft leather, and a wide-screen TV hung on one wall, while another held a stereo system and shelves of games, DVDs and hundreds of books.

They had barely entered the room when Daniel lifted then extended one hand toward the fireplace.

A blaze immediately rose up.

She stared at him, astonished. Fire starting wasn’t a known vampire talent. In fact, on the whole, vampires weren’t terribly fond of fire. It was the one element that could destroy them.

“Where did you learn that?” she asked him.

“Cool!” August said.

“Not so cool, really,” Daniel told August, then turned to Samantha and grinned at her ruefully. “Sorry—that’s not a vampire talent, as you know. Motion detector. My father met an elf in Stockholm who’s quite the inventor. He came over and set up the house for Dad. Lights, music, fire—you name it, all it takes is the proper wave of the hand.” He shrugged ruefully. “Only problem is, sometimes I’m just walking through and the lights go on and off, the fire pops up and the house turns into a boom box with Frank Sinatra—my dad’s favorite—blaring loud enough to wake the neighborhood.”

“Oh,” Sam murmured. “Well, I guess there’s good and bad to everything.” She took a seat on a little ottoman before the fire and extended her hands, grateful for the warmth.

“I’ll take August upstairs and get the two of us into dry clothing. Why don’t you give your cousin a call? See if she can escape for a minute with some clothes for you? Or I can whirl down the street and pick something up,” he said, smiling. “If I take anything, I’ll pay for it, don’t worry.”

“It’s all right. I’ll give June a call,” she said.

August and Daniel started up the stairs. Sam gave her fingers another minute to thaw, then went looking for a phone, since her cell had drowned even if August hadn’t. She found a landline and quickly dialed June’s cell.

Her cousin answered after the first ring. The minute Sam identified herself, June said worriedly, “Sam, where are you? The party’s already started.”

“I’ll be there soon, but I need your help,” Sam told her.

“My help?” There was a touch of panic in June’s voice. “I was hoping you’d show up soon because I could use your help. The Episcopalian priest, Father Alistair, brought his three-year-old, Tobey, because his wife isn’t feeling well and can’t watch him, but he’s so busy having a heavy philosophical discussion with Rabbi Jenowitz that he’s forgotten about Tobey, who so far has tortured the cat and nearly knocked over the Christmas tree,” June said with dismay. “I did manage to save the Nativity scene.”

“I’m so glad. Listen, is Katie Sue or Rebekah there yet?”

“Um, Katie Sue just came in.”

“Good. Turn the party over to her and bring me something to wear really quickly.”

“Okay, bring it where?”

“I’m at Daniel’s house.”

Sam supposed she shouldn’t have been startled by the silence that followed. Even June—who had been away so much—knew that she and Daniel had been in love, and that he had broken her heart. She could hardly be blamed for wondering what Sam was doing at his house and drawing the obvious conclusion.

“It’s not what you’re thinking,” Sam said hurriedly. “We found the biter, but he wasn’t vicious, just heartbroken. Anyway, I can explain all that later. Right now I just need some clothes.”

“But why?” June lowered her voice. “Daniel didn’t … didn’t …?”

“No! I told you, it’s nothing like that. I’m soaked, that’s all. We had to save the biter from trying to drown himself. Please, June, just hurry up and bring me something to wear.”

“Okay.” June sounded relieved. “Katie Sue can chase Tobey around the Christmas tree and save the cat. She’s a complete emotional wreck, if you ask me. She wants to be on the beach by seven.”

“Dead Horse Beach?” Sam asked dryly.

“Yes. So I’d better hurry or she’ll have my head.”

“Thanks,” Sam told her, then hung up. She wasn’t sure whether to be grateful, relieved or irritated. Who the hell fell in love with a selkie? Especially a selkie Keeper. Too bad no one had objected to Katie Sue’s romance the way they had to Daniel and hers. Seven years! Way too long to miss a lover.

She could barely imagine it. She hadn’t seen Daniel in nearly two years, and …

And seeing him again now only made her want him again. A world of time had gone by and everything had changed, and at the same time nothing had changed.

Because Daniel was still … Daniel.

She heard the knocking at the front door while Daniel and August were still upstairs. Sam hurried over and threw it open, and there was June. She was carrying a big, cheerfully decorated Christmas gift bag.

“It’s your party clothes,” June said. “It seemed like the best way to get it out of the house.”

“Thank you, thank you!” Sam told her. Grateful that the men were still upstairs, she took the bag and hurried back over to the fire, where she stripped down to her underwear.

“You’re going to leave those on? You’ll catch a cold,” June warned her. “I brought dry.”

Sam glanced at her cousin. She wanted to run over and hug her. June was the sweetest soul in the universe. She cared, really cared, about people—and not only those she knew and loved, but everyone. And yet she still seemed nervous to be back here, dealing with her Keeper duties.

Sam didn’t get a chance to answer as she quickly slipped into dry underwear. She realized she’d made a dumb move, changing by the fire instead of behind closed doors. She could hear Daniel and August coming down the stairs.

She swore softly.

What was she doing? Here it was Christmas, and she was swearing. What on earth was wrong with her?

She heard a sharp whistle. August was just ahead of Daniel as they came down the stairs. He was grinning ear to ear as he looked at her.

She looked up and met Daniel’s eyes—and saw the fire that had always burned so fiercely in them when he looked at her.

His mouth curved into a little smile of amusement.

Sam left her wet clothing by the fire, clutched the bag to her and ran for the kitchen. As she struggled into the soft red sweater June had brought her, she could hear her cousin speaking with Daniel and August.

“So … Daniel. You’re back in town.”

“Yes. For the time being, at least.”

“Ah.”

“I’m afraid my work means traveling,” Daniel said.

“Of course it does,” June said sweetly. Hearing her, Sam smiled. Her cousins were always there for her. As sweet as it sounded, June’s voice had the slightest edge.

“I’m August Avery,” August said.

“How do you do?” June asked.

“Um, we’ve actually met, though I haven’t seen you in a while. You look … very lovely tonight.”

“Thank you,” June told him.

“Like your cousin,” August added. “I guess we Others are pretty lucky here in Salem.”

Thank you, August. You were a jerk and made a wreck out of Christmas Eve, but you seem to have redeemed yourself.

Sam quickly slid into the silky black pants June had brought and hurried back out to the family room. Daniel was wearing a red sweater, too. And black pants. It almost looked as if they had dressed as a couple for the party.

She looked quickly away from Daniel and met August’s gaze. “August, you look dry, warm and ready for a great party.”

His smile wavered for a minute. “I guess.”

“So we’re ready to head back?” June asked anxiously.

“I just need two minutes,” Sam said. She was carrying the socks June had brought, and she checked and found that luckily her boots had almost dried. In seconds she had them on. Not bad. She didn’t even squish when she stood.

“Okay,” she said cheerfully. “Let’s go.”

As Daniel locked the door behind them, he arched a brow at Sam. She shrugged, and he walked ahead with August.

“What’s going on?” June whispered to Sam as they followed. “What’s he doing here?”

“He’s been sent back by the council. They’re worried about the darkness.”

June looked at her hopefully. “You think a vampire is causing it?”

Sam hesitated. June looked so hopeful that she hated to disillusion her.

No, I don’t. I believe it’s some kind of dark magic, she thought. As in witchcraft.

But she couldn’t say that.

“I don’t know, June. Vampires don’t really have that kind of power. The whole council sent Daniel because he’s a troubleshooter and we need a little help, not just because he’s a vampire.”

“And he came to see you because you’re responsible for all of us?” June asked.

Sam set an arm around her shoulder. “We all have to be here for one another, right? And isn’t that kind of the Christmas message? I mean, it doesn’t matter where people come from or what they believe, the message of Christmas is all about peace and forgiveness and loving one another. So there you have it. We all need to be here for each other. Maybe that’s how we’ll disperse this darkness.” June tried to smile, but Sam knew her cousin was worried. “I mean it. We’ll all be here for one another.”

She realized suddenly that they had reached her house, that Daniel and August had stopped and had heard her last words.

“Here for one another,” Daniel repeated, his eyes on hers. They seemed to glow with that unique gold particular to his kind—a gold that couldn’t be read.

“Well, we’re here and I need to get inside,” Sam said. “August, you will have fun, you will celebrate the spirit of the season—and you will find joy.”

“Okay, okay, joy of the season,” he said, though he didn’t sound entirely convinced.

She linked her arm with his and started toward the house.

As she headed up the walk, the plastic Santa began singing again. This time the song was “Baby, It’s Cold Outside.”

“We’d all better stay inside, then, huh?” Daniel said lightly.

Sam refused to turn around.

What the hell was she thinking when she bought that stupid Santa?

As she walked inside, three-year-old Tobey went flying past her, carrying one of the garlands that had been on the tree. Katie Sue was racing right behind him, but she skidded to a stop when she saw the newcomers. Her hair was in slight disarray and she was panting.

“Thank God you’re back!” she told Sam.

Meanwhile Tobey was heading into a part of the house where he had no business. Sam immediately went after him, sweeping him up into her arms. He let out a shriek and fought against her. “Oh, no, young man,” she told him. “You are not going to single-handedly mess up a holiday tradition.”

“Down!” Tobey shouted.

“No,” she said firmly.

With the wriggling child in her arms, she returned to the entryway. Katie Sue was getting into her coat and scarf. “Thanks,” Sam told her.

“I just … I’m sorry, I have to go. Seven years is a long time,” Katie Sue said softly.

Something about her cousin’s face touched Sam deeply. In fact, her insides seemed to be knotting up.

That was love. Nothing interrupted the feeling for Katie Sue. Not time, distance, the cold—or the darkness of winter.

It was love.

It was faith.

“Go, go. Happy, happy Christmas Eve,” Sam told her cousin. “Love you.”

Katie Sue kissed June and then stopped dead. “Daniel! Daniel Riverton. You’re—you’re back in Salem.”

“In the flesh, Katie Sue,” he said. “We’ll catch up later—right now you better hurry,” he said. He was smiling, as well.

He knew about Katie Sue’s situation, of course, Sam thought. He hadn’t been gone that long. Not as long as Katie Sue had been waiting.

Katie Sue turned to look at him with a broad smile. “Of course, we’ll catch up. It’s wonderful that you’re back.”

“He isn’t back,” Sam snapped.

“Of course he is,” Katie Sue said. “Anyway, I’m outta here. Catch you all later. Merry Christmas, August,” she added, and then she was gone.

At that moment Tobey connected a smart punch right against Sam’s jaw.

“Down!” he bellowed.

She controlled her temper—barely. She supposed she should have been paying more attention to him.

“No, Tobey, you’re not getting down right now. And if you hit me or anyone else again, I’ll put you in a really, really long time-out. Do you understand?”

Just then Father Mulroney came over and greeted her with relief. “Oh, thank the Lord. There you are, Sam. I’m afraid that the Wiccans and the Baptists are about to get into it. We have such a wonderfully diverse crowd here, but when they’re discussing the darkness … Well, I begin to fear that one group might accuse the other group of bringing it on and—”

“I’m coming,” Sam said.

She hiked Tobey onto her shoulder and marched into the parlor, then paused. The tree looked beautiful, and for a moment she did nothing but revel in the spirit of the holiday.

“Hey!” she said loudly, drawing everyone’s attention, from those sitting comfortably to those milling around the dining table, visible through the archway, and those who were standing around as they sipped their eggnog and enjoyed the food. “Merry Christmas Eve, everyone, and welcome to my home. What’s going on here? I’m not hearing any Christmas music. Father Mulroney, will you be so kind as to grace my piano with your presence?”

“I’d love to,” he said.

He quickly sat down and began to play. Looking at Tobey in Sam’s arms, he began with “Jingle Bells.”

Sam was pleased when June walked right in and started singing with her beautiful voice. She was quickly joined by others in the room. In a minute Mrs. McClellan, an ardent Baptist, was standing arm in arm with Sally Canfield, priestess for one of the Wiccan covens. After “Jingle Bells,” Father Mulroney looked at Rabbi Solomon and began to play “Dreidel, Dreidel, Dreidel.”

Lars Anderson, an Elven who had recently arrived from Norway, walked over to the piano and suggested “O Little Town of Bethlehem.”

Tobey’s father came and retrieved him from her arms at last. She stepped back, letting out a soft sigh of relief.

A minute later, June was back by her side. “Shall we bring out more refreshments?”

“Yes, let’s carve the turkey, shall we?” Sam said.

Together, they headed to the kitchen, where she found Daniel already carving the huge turkey that had been roasting all day, layering the tender meat on the waiting serving platters. He was being watched by August and a young Wiccan named Sally Smith, who worked for Mica.

“Thanks for the help,” Sam told Daniel.

“No problem,” he said, continuing to carve.

“I’ll get out this first platter,” June said.

“We’ve got them,” August said, turning to smile at Sally.

“We do—Oh, Mica is running a little late, Sam,” Sally said. “But she’ll be here—she wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

They left, and June stood there for a moment looking from Daniel to Samantha.

“I, uh, feel a song coming on,” she said, and fled.

Sam stared at Daniel across the kitchen table. The smells of baked goods, cinnamon, pine and all things Christmas wafted between them.

Suddenly the kitchen seemed far too small and Daniel far too close, despite the table that sat squarely between them.

“What do you want?” she asked him, and her voice sounded more needy than she would have liked.

But before he could answer, Tobey came barreling into the kitchen and headed straight for a bottle of champagne sitting on a tray surrounded by delicate crystal glasses.

“No!” Sam gasped, diving for Tobey.

“I’ve got him,” Daniel promised.

But Tobey ducked, and they both missed him as he sped by, sliding under the table and banging into the counter.

The champagne and the glasses clinked and rattled as the tray began to fall.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.