Nalini Singh - The Magical Christmas Cat

But tonight was for them alone, and he liked it. He liked it very much. With the demon destroyed and Marielle's assumption about the status of her safety having been proved correct—she'd been found hanging in the Minville jail two days after her arrest, dead from an apparent suicide—life was normal. For the first time since Zane had turned fifteen, he didn't have to worry about saving the world.

He just had to take care of Ruby.

That actually meant that for him life was no longer normal at all. He was going to have to get used to a different kind of normal. So far, that experiment was going very well.

Ruby put a few finishing touches on the small Christmas tree they'd put up earlier in the day, then they settled together on the floor by the tree, entwined and comfortable. Dressed in a wonder­fully skimpy Christmasy red nightgown, she fed him cookies and the most decadent apple pie he had ever imagined. If this was what most people considered normal, he would very quickly get accus­tomed to normalcy in his life.

While a piece of a rich sugar cookie melted on his tongue, Ruby moved onto his lap and draped her arms around his neck. "Do you think it's possible I only love you because you saved my life? And my soul," she added, making a face and shuddering a little. "And the world, of course. For the purposes of this discussion, let's just stick with my life."

"I don't know. Do I only love you because you feed me increas­ingly decadent sweets?"

"Don't forget the sex," she said with a smile.

"As if I could."

She rested her head on his shoulder. "The sex is very nice, but I thought you loved me because I'm symmetrical."

"There is that."

It was too soon for love, perhaps, but they both felt it, and nei­ther of them had been shy about saying the words. Almost losing everything would do that to a person, he supposed.

For a few precious moments he tested Ruby's symmetry with his hands. Face. Shoulders. Breasts. Hips. Thighs. Lovely.

"What am I thinking?" he whispered.

For someone who had so firmly denounced "woowoo" a couple of weeks ago, Ruby accepted her own clairvoyance very easily. That talent had saved her; it had allowed her to communicate with the women who had been sacrificed to the demon in years past. She was no psychic, but she did have telling dreams, and more often than not she knew what was on his mind. They'd been "dating" for two weeks, if you could call spending every moment together "dating," and already she was finishing his sentences for him. After the first of the year, when she reopened her shop and he went back to teaching classes, they would have less time to study her abilities, so they had been doing all they could to test and refine it. What am I thinking? had become a game of sorts. She was quite good.

It was too easy, of course, since lately his mind had been quite one-track, and still Ruby played along. Sitting in his lap, leaning toward him possessively, she closed he* eyes.

She did best with visual images, they had discovered. It was very easy for Zane to vividly imagine what he wanted from Ruby. He didn't want to make it too easy for her this time, so he didn't picture her naked on his bed. Instead, he imagined her naked here, lying be­side the Christmas tree, red and green satin ribbon wrapped around her torso, her hips, her thighs. She was the best Christmas present he had ever imagined, so it was fitting enough to see her this way.

"This is no longer much of a challenge," she said softly. "Must I always be naked?"

Practice was making her ability stronger. Day by day, she saw more, she saw more clearly. Though she could guess "naked" and be right more often than not.

"All right," he said, "Let's try something else."

He pictured another Christmas in another year, perhaps five years or so down the road. They were still in this house, and some­one else, someone who had no idea what had happened there in the past, lived in the yellow house across the road. He was still teach­ing; Ruby still had her shop though she no longer worked there every day. She had her hands full with the kids. Two, he thought, maybe a boy and a girl. The Christmas tree was larger than the one they'd bought on clearance this year, and it was heavy with decora­tions, some purchased but many made by the kids.

And they were happy and still in love. Whatever the reasons they had fallen in love so quickly, it was going to last. They were going to enjoy the only real forever that existed in this crazy world.

Ruby's smile faded a little, and she placed her head on his shoul­der and shifted closer. "Is that what you want or are you teasing me? Don't tease me," she added quickly. "Not like this."

"It's what I want," he said honestly.

She shifted, moving her body closer to his. "Me, too."

He took her face in his hand and tilted it toward his so he could kiss her. "Merry Christmas, baby," he whispered with his mouth against hers.

The kiss lingered for a while, then Ruby moved just far enough away to reach for the messy pile of wrapping supplies. She snagged the red and green spools of ribbon and proceeded to make all his Christmas wishes come true.

For my early readers, all of you.

For saying, Hey, this just doesn't work.

Or, OMG this is working so great.

For telling me when it's going wrong

and when it's going right.

Each book is a combined effort, a creation

of my imagination, my early readers' imaginations, and all the hard work my editors put into it.

You all make the difference.

And I couldn't do it without you.

They were created, they weren't born. They were trained, they weren't raised. They were taught to kill, and now they'll use their training to ensure their freedom.

They are breeds. Genetically altered with the DNA of the pred­ators of the earth. The wolf, the lion, the cougar, the Bengal tiger; the killers of the world. They were to be the weapons of a fanatical society intent on building its own personal army.

Until the world learned of their existence. Until the council lost control of their creations, and their creations began to change the world.

Now they're loose. Banding together, creating their own com­munities, their own society, and their own safety, and fighting to hide the one secret that could destroy them.

The secret of mating heat. The chemical, biological, emotional reaction of one breed to the man or woman meant to be his or hers forever. A reaction that binds physically. A reaction that alters more than just the physical responses or heightens the sensuality. Nature has turned mating heat into the breeds' Achilles' heel. It's their strength, and yet their weakness. And Mother Nature isn't finished playing yet.

Man had attempted to mess with her creations. Now, she's go­ing to show man exactly how she can refine them.

Killers will become lovers, lawyers, statesmen, and heroes. And through it all they will each cleave to one mate, one heart, and cre­ate a dynasty.

Haley McQuire was hiding in Sanctuary's extensive, beau­tiful library the night of the pre-Thanksgiving party. She didn't do parties well, and she didn't enjoy them. Jonas Wyatt, Director of Breed Affairs, had given her permission to peruse the extensive collection of first-edition classics, but he had warned her that if one of his enforcers caught her there, they would drag her back to the party.

If she was found, she hoped that it wasn't by Noble Chavin. She smiled a bit at that thought. Noble loved books too, though. He would understand.

He was always at the library, choosing books she would never have expected him to read. Carpentry books, books on world his­tory. He devoured them, it sometimes seemed. And when he re­turned them, she could quiz him playfully, and he always had the answers.