Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

NICHOLAS

T he girl didn’t faint this time, which was a step up. But Holly’s silence stretched so long I started to wonder if she’d cracked under the pressure. She just sat there, wide-eyed and trembling, like a fragile little bird too stunned to fly. Eventually, I reached over, gently pried the scarf and snacks from her stiff arms and walked her back to the car.

Once inside, I drove us a short distance away, parked in a quiet spot, and turned the heat on full blast. Holly was shaking so violently it made my chest tighten—not that I’d admit that to her. I draped the scarf around her neck, more for comfort than warmth, and leaned back to watch her slowly pull herself together.

The shudders eased until she was just sitting there, staring straight ahead. “You killed him,” she finally said, her voice small but sharp.

I didn’t flinch. “He would have killed you. Which would you have preferred?”

She turned to me, those wide eyes swimming with something between disbelief and accusation. “That none of this had happened!”

I let out a low sigh, resting my arm across the back of the seat. “I understand. But leaving him alive wasn’t an option. He’d have come after you again. You know that.”

Her lips parted, but no words came. She swallowed, her gaze dropping to her hands in her lap. “Others will follow.”

“Maybe,” I admitted with a shrug. “But I’m betting he didn’t tell anyone where he found you. He wouldn’t have wanted his bosses to know he failed. For now, we have a head start.”

“You say that so easily,” she murmured, barely audible over the hum of the heater. “How can you… do that? Kill someone like it’s nothing?”

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. She had no idea. “It’s not nothing. But I’ve been an enforcer, a soldier, for a long time. I keep our kind in line, make sure we don’t overstep with humans—or each other. I don’t like killing, but I’ll do it when there’s no other choice. And tonight, there wasn’t.”

Her silence dragged on, tension crackling in the confined space. Then, quietly, she said, “Thank you. For saving me. Again.”

The corners of my mouth twitched, though I kept my tone flat. “You’re welcome.”

She hesitated, then blurted out, “When you drank from him?—”

“It could have been pleasurable for him or not,” I said, cutting her off. “Doesn’t matter now. I saw enough in his mind to know he wouldn’t have stopped hunting you. That’s why I didn’t wipe his memory—it’s never a guarantee.”

What I didn’t tell her was just how twisted his plans had been. The man was scum, and his death had been a mercy—for both of us.

Holly exhaled, slow and shaky, then straightened in her seat. “Well,” she said, forcing a brittle smile. “We should get back on the road. We’ve wasted enough time already. And the driver chooses the road trip music!”

Gods help me. I hadn’t known she was a walking Christmas jukebox when I’d signed up for this. If I had, I might’ve reconsidered—or ripped the car’s stereo out before we hit the road. But after what had just happened, I bit back my groan and let her have this one.

For an hour, maybe two, I managed. Then the third hour of festive chaos started to chip away at my sanity. Holly sang along to every song—off-key, I might add—and tried to rope me into her merry madness. I rubbed my temples as the grating lisp of “All I Want for Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth” clawed at my brain. My gums ached in solidarity. Then came “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus.” The nasally whine was so unbearable I considered hurling myself out of the moving vehicle.

“You would think I was torturing you,” Holly quipped, glancing at me with a wicked grin. “What are you, some kind of grinch?”

“Something like that,” I muttered. “These songs are an assault on the senses. Like an icepick to the skull.”

She snorted, rolling her eyes as she maneuvered the car with frustrating ease. “Oh, come on. Imagine you’re a kid, sneaking downstairs to find your mom kissing Santa. That’s magical!”

“What’s magical about your mother cheating on your father?” I shot back.

She threw her hands up in exasperation. “It’s Santa! He’s on the list.”

I raised an eyebrow. “The list?”

“You know, the permissions list every couple has for who they’d, uh…” Her voice trailed off, and she muttered, “Not that I’d know. It’s been so long since I’ve had a relationship or sex, but whatever.”

That last part wasn’t meant for me, but my body reacted anyway. Her scent, her warmth, the pulse fluttering so enticingly beneath her skin—it was all too much. I’d fed recently, but the thought of tasting her, of feeling her blood course through me… It was dangerous. Maddening.

“A permissions list,” I said, seizing on the safer topic. “Never considered one of those. Intriguing.”

She shot me a suspicious look. “Do you have a Mrs. Impaler or something?”

“My name is Frost,” I corrected, “and no, I do not.”

“Then why would you need a list?”

I smirked, but before I could answer, she turned off the highway and onto a narrow back road. The sudden shift jarred me. “Why are we not on the highway?”

She avoided my gaze. “Thought someone was following us. Took a detour.”

I gestured to the bumper-to-bumper traffic ahead. “Brilliant plan.”

She ignored me, humming along to the soft strains of “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas”. For a moment, I let myself relax—until we crested a hill, and the valley below blinded me.

Lights. So many lights. Every building, every tree, every square inch of the town was drowning in a sea of blinking, glowing chaos.

“What the holy hell is this?”

Holly

O kay, so I hadn’t exactly mentioned the slight detour to the Christmas Village. But come on—it was a huge attraction in Pennsylvania, and I’d been dying to go for years. I’d even planned to visit this season, but life, as always, got in the way. When I mapped out our route while watching Nicholas sleep—or die? Do vampires technically die during the day?—I realized we’d be passing awfully close to the village. It felt like a sign, a little Christmas miracle just for me.

I didn’t believe Nicholas was as much of a Grinch as he claimed to be. Though, as we got closer, and he grouched about my choice of music, his mood made me wonder. It only made me sing louder, belting out “Jingle Bell Rock” like I was auditioning for Broadway. His red-eyed glare was enough to give me pause. Okay, maybe I’d pushed him a bit too far.

“It’s on the way,” I blurted, trying to sound casual. “We’re only a few miles off the highway. Besides, there’s an accident on the main route. We’d be stuck in traffic anyway, sitting ducks for the hitmen. This way is safer. Right? I mean, more witnesses and all…”

Nicholas closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Holly, for my sanity, please stop talking.”

I frowned, my fingers tightening on the steering wheel. “I just wanted to see the display. It’s supposed to be amazing.”

He sighed like I’d asked him to walk barefoot through the snow. “We have somewhere to be, and we’re entirely too close to the men tracking you. Did you think of that?”

“They wouldn’t attack in front of children, would they?” My voice wavered as doubt crept in. God, what if I’d just dragged a literal vampire and a bunch of innocent kids into danger?

I glanced at the dazzling lights up ahead, all warm and glittery, like pure holiday joy in the middle of the night. My chest tightened. “No, you’re right. We should keep going.”

With a sigh, I hit the blinker and started to turn the car around.

“Stop.” Nicholas’s hand landed on mine. “If you really want to see this monstrosity, we can spare an hour. Just an hour.”

Joy exploded inside me like fireworks. “You won’t regret it. It’s fabulous. You might even find gifts for your family.”

He grimaced. “Doubtful.”

I ignored him and followed the line of cars winding toward the parking lot. Minutes later, we were walking through a wonderland of twinkling lights, holiday cheer, and more decorations than I’d ever seen. It was magical. Every worry about who might be chasing me vanished as I soaked in the laughter of kids, the scent of cinnamon and pine, and the festive music spilling from hidden speakers.

Nicholas wandered off while I watched kids giggling with Santa. When he returned, he handed me a cup. “Hot chocolate,” he said, his voice gruff. “They added a peppermint stick to it for flavor.”

I laughed as he glanced at his own cup, peppermint-free. “It’s delicious. Like a cup of Christmas. You didn’t want to try it?”

“Chocolate is a flavor. Why add something else?” He frowned, clearly baffled by the concept.

His confusion made me laugh harder. “Try it,” I said, holding my cup up to his lips. “You might like it, even if you don’t like Christmas.”

“I never said I don’t like Christmas,” he muttered before reluctantly taking a sip.

I raised an eyebrow. “You hate the music, didn’t want to come here, clearly don’t want to go home, and you’re wearing literally nothing festive. You’re a total Grinch. Now, admit it—peppermint makes it better.”

He swallowed, his face begrudging. “It’s… unique.”

“Ha! I’ll take it. But you can’t have mine. You’re stuck with your bland, regular hot chocolate.” I sipped my drink, already scanning the area for what we should explore next. “Thanks for the drink. And for being a good sport. I know this isn’t your thing.”

He nodded stiffly, his sharp gaze scanning the crowd like he was in a security detail. In his black leather jacket and jeans, he stood out against the sea of cheerful holiday sweaters like a shadow in the light.

“I think we’re safe here,” I mumbled. “You can relax.”

He gave me a flat look. “Safe? From what? A rogue reindeer?”

It took me a second to catch the joke, but when I did, I burst out laughing, earning a few curious looks from passersby. “Reindeer only run over grandmas, not vampires. Come on. Let’s see what’s next.”

I looped my arm through his and tugged him toward another path. Before we got far, he froze, head snapping to the side like he’d heard something. Without a word, he strode between Santa’s Post Office and a gingerbread house.

“Wait!” I hurried after him, confused.

When I caught up, he was crouched in front of a little boy, no older than five, who was crying his heart out. Nicholas’s low voice was calm, and after a moment, the boy nodded, hiccupping as he rubbed his eyes.

Nicholas straightened, looking baffled when the kid launched himself at his legs. I gestured for him to pick the boy up. Awkwardly, he did, holding the child like he was made of glass.

“What’s your name?” I asked gently.

“Sam,” the boy sniffled.

“Okay, Sam. We’ll help you find your family. Do you remember where you last saw them?”

He shook his head, fresh tears spilling.

Nicholas sighed. “He said he went looking for reindeer while his sister was looking for fish people.”

It took me a second to put it together. “Christmas Under the Sea display. This way.”

We walked toward the lake, Sam clinging to Nicholas like a koala. We hadn’t walked far when a woman screamed, “Sam!”

“Mommy!” The boy wriggled, and Nicholas set him down just in time for the kid to sprint into his mother’s arms.

The father approached us, gratitude written all over his face. “Thank you so much. He just vanished—we were terrified.”

“He was looking for reindeer,” Nicholas said flatly.

The man grimaced. “Rudolph obsession. I swear, I need a leash for these kids.”

“They make them,” Nicholas replied, dead serious.

I elbowed him hard. “He’s joking. I think!” I assured the father with a nervous laugh. “Merry Christmas!”

As we walked away, I glared at Nicholas. “Leashes are for pets.”

He shrugged. “Seemed effective.”

I rolled my eyes. “Let’s just go. The village is closing soon.”

When we reached the Kissing Bridge, a worker stopped us. “Toll to cross,” he said, pointing to the mistletoe above.

Nicholas reached for his wallet, but the kid shook his head. “Not money. A kiss.”

I barely had time to process that before Nicholas turned to me and pressed his lips to mine.

His kiss was firm and purposeful, but when I softened against him, it deepened. His tongue brushed my lips, coaxing them open, and a heat I hadn’t expected flared in my chest. My fingers fisted in his jacket as I melted into him, savoring the sweet, intoxicating taste of him mixed with chocolate and peppermint.

He pulled back too soon, leaving me breathless and dazed.

“Toll paid?” he growled at the stunned worker.

“Y-yeah, dude.”

Nicholas strode across the bridge without a backward glance. I followed in silence, my lips tingling and my heart racing.

What the hell just happened?