Page 36 of A Cursed Noel
Taran scowls, annoyed.“Son of bitch,” she mutters. “Do I have to do everythingmyself?”
She breathes in deep.As she breathes out, strobes of blue and white fire build in herhands.
I catch a bag ofpotting soil Emme throws and spin, launching the bag into Taran’schest when she fires. It’s not a hard throw. It’s just enough toknock the wind out of her and send the flaming strobes rolling intothe neighboring yard.
I step over the singedlines of soil. So much for a neat yard. These three made a hot messout of it, and, for the record, they still have not brought me down.
The scent of burningpine cuts through the aroma of fresh fallen snow. The trees Taranstruck splinter and drop over, disintegrating as the flames continueto eat through the trunks.
Taran isn’t all talk.She has the goods to cause some serious damage. But like the others,her power is sporadic and undeveloped.
Emme races to Taran’sside, jumping when the bag of soil catches fire. “Son a bitch,”Taran moans.
“Get up, Taran.Hurry,” Emme urges, her eyes wide. “The perverted gentleman isstill coming.”
Shayna presses her footinto the aluminum door leading to the front porch and yanks on theknob. “I got this,” she says. She elongates the knob,transforming into a dagger. She hurls it and…stabs Celia in thethigh with it.
Celia falls to ground,her clothes are in tatters, she’s covered in dirt, and her hair isas big as a bush in spring. I pull her to a sitting position. “Areyou all right, sweetness?”
Celia yanks the daggerfrom her leg and tosses it aside. Unlike the bat, it maintains itsform. Her gaze is murderous as she takes in her sisters. “Stoptrying to kill my boyfriend,” she growls.
Emme hooks her armsaround Taran to try to lift her. She drops her, gaping at Celia. “B-boyfriend? Did you say he’s your boyfriend?”
Shayna eyes the broomshe picked and tries to hide it behind her. “Is that why you werehaving sex with him in the snow?”
I don’t know whoseface reddens faster, mine, Celia’s, or Emme’s. I take a good lookat Emme who appears ready to bury herself in the snow. DefinitelyEmme.
“Watch what you sayin front of the little girl,” I warn. Emme may have come at me, butshe’s still just a kid.
“I’m sixteen,”Emme insists.
“You are?” I ask,shocked.
“And we weren’thaving sex,” Celia insists.
No. Not yet.
The memory of ourcontact sends ripples of lust to consume me, an easy task withCelia’s body pressed tightly against mine. She shudders again andattempts to clear her throat. “This is Aric. He’s a werewolf.”
Taran sits up, herannoyance as obvious as the mini-bolts of lightning that crackleabove her head. “Damn it, Celia, you’re supposed to marry adoctor.”
“What?” Iask.
Taran scoffs. “Youheard me,Blues Clues.” She motions around us. “You thinkwe’re killing ourselves in nursing school to run around naked everyfull moon? You think we want to give birth to puppies? Go back toyour cave and bury a bone or something. We don’t do animal sexaround here.”
Shayna holds up afinger. “That’s actually an offensive stereotype, T.”
“I don’t give ashit,” Taran says. She pushes herself up into a standing position.“Celia, a werewolf, really? We have enough against us. Do youreally want to deal with crazies showing up on our doorstep trying tostake us?”
“Those are vampires,”Shayna replies. She’s trying to whisper and doing a terrible job.“And in all fairness, Celia never said she wanted to marry adoctor. Schuck’s, given her dating history, we’ll be lucky if shedoesn’t die a decrepit old virgin, with her barren uterus danglingto her toes.”
Celia covers her face.“He can hear you,” she hisses.
I laugh, kissing heralong her neck and speaking low. “You’re a virgin?”
“Um.” It’s allCelia says, but it’s enough.
My humor fades. “Ihaven’t taken a lover either,” I admit. “I’d be honored totake you.”