Page 51 of A Cursed Noel

It’s what I thinkwhen another vampire appears. The women scream as the she-vamp pullsout the same bleeding woman.

What the hell?

Vampires only need apint of blood every few days. With the number of vamps waiting theirturn, it doesn’t appear Griselda permits them regular feeds. Thewoman’s throat is mangled. Griselda won’t even allow her vamps toseal the wounds with a few flicks of their tongue. The woman musthave defied Griselda, and Griselda is making her pay.

Two other witches withdark hair sit on either side of Griselda. Their aroma of darknessthat mimics Griselda’s power tag them as her daughters. The witchesgathered appear disgusted by the display of power, and some of theirsubordinates are as frightened as the young women in the circle.These clans are not here by choice. Griselda is flexing her muscles,and they’re obliged to watch.

The witch on Griselda’sright, a younger prettier version of Griselda, passes her a daggerwith an ivory hilt. Griselda smiles and motions toward the circlewith a tilt of her chin. The young witch smiles, the dark purplestone clasped to her amulet casting light across the room as shecalls a young girl with red hair forth.

She’s a bloodsacrifice. So are the rest.

The young witchstraightens, her voice a venomous purr she doesn’t bother hiding.“Mami, do you feel it?” she asks. “Our master is most pleased.Allow these to quench his thirst.” She leans in, her wicked gleeescalating. “If they don’t suffice, the otherputasbeneath you will.”

The realization is asmind-blowing as my arrival.

This isn’t a regularsolstice. Griselda is celebrating a cursed noël.

The deity Griseldaworships expects payment for making Griselda unstoppable. Thousandsof blood sacrifices were made along the years for this moment toarrive. These girls, the witches, they’re part of the fee. Celiaand her family are the remaining balance.

My Celia.

The young redheadquivers, her gaze blank as she stumbles forward. My tail twitches,but it’s the next vampire who pulls the leeched woman from thecircle that calls me to action.

Glass rakes across myfur as I soar through the window, the scent of my power and magicinciting the starving vampires to attack.

Screaming and urges torun vibrate along the walls as I clamp down on a female vampire’sthroat. I shake her hard, snapping her neck to make her easier tokill.

Blood spouts as I slicethrough her carotid artery, sending the vampires into a frenzy.

I toss her to the side.Two vampires scramble after her, the promise of nourishment too muchto ignore. They latch onto the female vamp and suck her dry, givingme time to go after the others.

Ash coats my back as Ipuncture the heart of the next vampire. He’s weak and dies easily,so does the next. That’s what Griselda gets for allowing hervampires to teeter so close to bloodlust.

The witch to Griselda’sleft calls out, her voice urgent through the escalating screams offleeing witches. “Mami,it’s him,” she says. “The wolfwho haunts your dreams.”

I growl low and deep.No. I’m the wolf from yourfuckingnightmares.

I expect a good fight.I’m outnumbered. But the other witch clans have seen enough.

Multi-colored lightsfrom firing amulets pelt my fur as witches disappear in a crash ofthunder or race to the exits with their brethren close to theirheels.

Not all leave. A spellcast from a lingering warlock singes my fur when he launches it. Ifeel it approach, sparing my body from the brunt of it, but not thevampire I use as a shield.

The vamp collapses onthe marble floor. He chokes on his screams when his limbs morph intovipers that shred him to pieces.

My wolf pushes out thesmall part of the spell that struck. The warlock, dumbstruck withterror that I survived, makes a mad dash to the foyer. He doesn’tmake it out of the dining room when I dive on top of him.

He drops his staff. Ichangeto human and slam my heel into his back and crack hisspine. I then grasp the staff and use it to stake the two vampireswho remain.

Like the other vamps,they were young and weak. Still dangerous to humans, but nothing toan angrywerelike me.

The green-colored lightpermeating from the warlock’s amulet fades as its master takes hislast breath.

I stalk toward theyoung women, breaking the salt circle encasing them. The spell breakswith a sharp kick to my shins. I don’t react. My attention is onGriselda as the shrieking and sobbing women run past me.

Griselda greets me witha smile. I greet her with a snarl.

At her nod, Griselda’syoungest daughter charges. Her magic blurs her form and adds speedI’m ill-prepared for. I drop into a crouch andchangeas wecrash through the wall.