I'm Dreaming of an Undead Christmas by Molly Harper

Author:Molly Harper [Harper, Molly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pocket Star
Published: 2014-11-17T08:00:00+00:00

The twinkle-light extravaganza on our front porch, which was clearly visible from the highway—and possibly from space—guided me home. I climbed out of the car and dragged my shopping bags from the passenger seat. Judging by Iris’s voicemail messages, she was going to be more than a little grumpy with me when I walked in. She wanted to give me my space, she said. She understood that I was an adult with my own priorities and schedule and friends, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t fricking rude not to return phone calls and let my sister know that I wasn’t dead in a ditch somewhere.

Given my efforts to sweeten her temper, ignoring her calls was probably a tactical error.

Sighing deeply, I shuffled under the weight of the bags, dragging myself and my purchases toward the wreath-bedecked front door. Just as I passed the shrubs flanking the driveway, I heard a loud “Psst!”

I stopped in my tracks. Because, clearly, I had learned nothing from the tree farm encounter.

And then I heard it again: “Psst!”

A pale face popped up between the shrubs, like Satan’s jack-in-the-box. I almost let out a yelp, but the pale shape moved forward in a flash, clapping his hand over my mouth before I could make a sound. I raised my fist and swung hard, hoping to hit somewhere in vicinity of the face, but instead, the body easily sidestepped me.

A soft, accented voice whispered, “Please, don’t scream, Gigi.”

Fortunately, it was a voice I recognized.

“Collin?” I whispered when he removed his hand from my lips. I swung again, hitting Collin’s shoulder. “What the hell?”

The Brit took my feeble assault with grace, not even changing his somewhat chagrined expression as I smacked him around. “Let’s take the conversation out of Cal’s range of hearing, shall we?”

Without even letting me put down my bags, Collin picked me up and shifted me onto his back piggy-back style. He dashed across our yard, into the trees, while I buried my face in the shoulder of his suit jacket to keep from screaming or throwing up. (He was really fast.)

He gently set me on my feet, steadying me when my all-too-human equilibrium left me all wobbly. “What is wrong with you?” I exclaimed, dropping my bags long enough to smack his shoulders. “Does Cal know that you’re lurking outside our house in the bushes? Because that’s a violation of a few friendship boundaries.”

“No, Cal doesn’t know I’m lurking outside your house in the bushes,” Collin said, sounding very, very tired. “Which is why I just carried you across the lawn to a location out of his hearing.”

“OK, new question. Why are you lurking outside our house in the bushes?”

“Because I need to talk to you, and every time I have an excuse to come to your house, we’re surrounded by beings with superhearing.”

“Collin, if this is some sort of confession of hidden feelings, I think I should tell you that I have a brand-new canister of vampire pepper spray in my purse, and also, you’re a dick, because Miranda loves you.

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