Cat Devon: The Entity Who Came for Christmas

Yes, she’d wanted to teach him a lesson, but if the truth be told, she hadn’t cast the curse in a premeditated manner. He’d hurt her so badly she’d reacted instinctively. She was the one who should have learned a lesson, because despite everything that had happened between them, that kiss last night had proved she still had feelings for him.

There was no telling what Simon’s feelings for her might be. He certainly wasn’t telling her.

“We’re fine,” Simon told Zoe. “Go stay with Damon.”

And leave us alone. He hadn’t said the words, but Zoe got the message. After checking with Pru, who nodded, Zoe left.

Pru was suddenly distracted by a strong sense of … something. Something aside from Simon. Something powerful. Something from their world, not the mortal one.

“It’s close by,” Pru said.

“How close by?” Simon demanded. Looking over her shoulder, he scanned the area with narrowed eyes. “Down this aisle?” He pointed left. “Or that one?” He pointed right. “There have to be dozens of bloody ice sculptures here.”

“I don’t know.” His anger was getting to her. “What am I, your personal compass? Your magical GPS?”

“Stay focused,” he said curtly. “Which of these ice sculptures seems suspicious to you?”

“The one with a naked mermaid on top of Santa’s sleigh seems in suspicious taste to me,” she said before very quietly adding, “I don’t have the ability to sense demons the way you do.”

“I know.” He took her hand in his with such gentleness that she wondered if it was his way of apologizing. “Let’s check out Santa’s naked helper.”

As they got closer, Pru realized the mermaid wasn’t actually nude. There was the impression of a bandeau top across her ample breasts. Which made sense, given that this was a family event and there were kids in the crowd. Pru was impressed with the detail on the scales of the mermaid’s tail.

The sculpture was certainly different from the other representations of snowmen, snowflakes, and Santa with his sleigh.

Holiday Gift from the Waves was the title. Vin Roget was listed as the artist.

“I’m not picking up anything,” Simon said. “What about you?”

She was picking up plenty and it was all tied to Simon’s hand holding hers, his skin against hers, his fingers intertwined with hers. This wasn’t the first time he’d touched her since his return. He’d put his hand on the back of her neck the night before at the ice rink. And he’d done the same a few minutes ago when faced with the Gold Coast vamps.

Those gestures had been about possession. But him holding her hand now was different. It reminded her of their time in London, dodging raindrops as they’d left Vicki and Al’s place, otherwise known as the Victoria and Albert Museum, in a downpour. Sharing tea at the Ritz. Sharing his bed in his hotel room for days on end.

The attraction had been instant and irresistible. At least on her part. And as much as she’d hoped that things were different now, that powerful sexual bond between them had not dimmed at all.

Pru returned her attention to the ice sculpture. There was something about it … a mermaid, tied to the lure of the water, to dangerous sirens luring sailors to harm, to lighthouses to protect the men from crashing onto the rocks.

She looked out on the choppy waters of the lake. The city was living up to its windy title today.

Then she saw it. “There.” Pru pointed to the lighthouse sitting offshore on a breakwall. “It could be there.”

The lighthouse, with its red roof and tower, was detached from the mainland, which would have made getting to it a challenge unless you were a vampire. Or a witch. Or a demon. Or a bunch of demons.

They swarmed overhead the instant Simon and Pru arrived. She felt like she’d just stepped into Hitchcock’s classic The Birds . As they swooped closer, she saw they looked more like the flying monkeys in The Wizard of Oz . Shit. That image was in her Top Five list of personal terrors. Shit, shit, shit. She quickly did a demon protection spell that Zoe had told her about, but for some reason it wasn’t working on these demons.

“They are Ancients!” Simon shouted above the piercing whirring the demons’ flight created.

“Mordred sent us to retrieve his sword Excalibur. We are his followers,” they chanted in unison.

“It’s not his. It never was!” Simon yelled at them, slashing those who came too close with his demon daggers. He had one in each hand.

As the Ancients continued to descend, one swooped lower and knocked Pru down. The impact knocked the breath out of her, leaving her unable to speak. She scrambled over the uneven ground, trying to escape.

Seeing her fall, Simon howled and went full vamp. His fangs were fully emerged and ready to rip the demon to shreds. But a slew of Ancients landed between him and Pru, flapping their razor-sharp wings and preventing him from getting to her.

They dragged their claws across his chest, ripping away his clothing and slashing his skin. Still he battled on, coming closer to the rocky edge of the breakwall. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw it. Excalibur. There amidst the frosty rocks, embedded in the ice with the hilt of the sword sticking out.

Warding off the blows and claws, he leapt toward Excalibur. Gripping the hilt in his hands, he could feel the power generated by the legendary weapon. It traveled up his arm to his core, but as hard as Simon yanked on it, he couldn’t pull Excalibur free.

“You have to believe,” Pru called out even as she struggled with the terror consuming her at the onslaught of demons surrounding her.

“Believe, Demon Hunter,” they mocked him before tearing the Santa hat from Pru’s head. “Believe I am going to kill your witch.” One had her by the hair now as he yanked her head back. “Watch me.”

Roaring his rage, Simon abandoned Excalibur to save her. The demons immediately tossed her aside and focused on Simon. She almost fell onto the rocks and into the lake but somehow managed to prevent herself from slipping. This was not the time to wish she knew how to swim.

Her head was still ringing from making contact with the ground. She crawled toward Excalibur and tried to pull it free but couldn’t. She lacked the strength or the power or the belief or something. But she still had her boots. She kicked a demon who tried to stop her and get to the sword. He went tumbling, horned head over clawed heels, before bursting into flames. One down, forty to go. Yes, her boots were spelled to be a weapon, but her magic was no match for these Ancients’ demon power. She couldn’t kick them fast enough. There were simply too many.

“Save yourself!” Simon shouted at her. He was covered in demons, crawling all over him, slashing him with their claws and rancid teeth.

“I’m not leaving you. I love you, dammit!” She refused to let him die. She would not use her powers, severely dwindled as they were from the continued battle, to transport her away. She wasn’t able to transport Simon with her. It killed her that she couldn’t do more to help him, but, aside from her boots, nothing she did, no spell she cast, had any effect on these demons.

“How sweet,” a demon drawled as she was pinned down by a bunch of Ancients. “You love him.” He started choking her. “Too bad for you. Too bad for him.”

Tears blurred her vision as she watched Simon continue to fight on but weaken with each additional injury they inflicted upon him. Blood poured from his wounds until he was completely vanquished. The screaming demonic horde took Simon by the arms and legs and tossed him over the edge of the lake.