Allegiance(25)

Taking a deep breath, I looked up again and met his eyes dead on. Somehow, using every ounce of skill I had, I pushed a dazzling smile into my face and held it there, frozen stiff.

After a moment, his lips pressed together and he nodded. He hands slid to my shoulders and he spun me around to face the tree. He pulled me against him, his chest pressed to my back. Warmth spread through me from his affectionate gesture, the comfort of being in those strong, broad arms indescribable. Everything would be all right, as long as I could have those arms around me … forever.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” he murmured, his chin resting on top of my head.

“Yeah,” I answered breathlessly. “I never thought this day would come.”

“What, Christmas?”

“Well, that too, given my penchant for being attacked. But no. This … you and me, here. Safe.”

I felt his fingers dig into my shoulders. “I don’t know if safe is the right word, Evangeline.”

“You know what I mean. Remember how worried you were that you’d kill me the second you stepped foot on Earth?”

His tone turned deadly serious. “I almost did, Evangeline. If it hadn’t been for Max and Sofie, we wouldn’t be standing here right now.”

“I know,” I said softly. “But after that. Now. Everything’s okay now.”

He said nothing, leaning in to nuzzle his nose against my earlobe, sending spastic shivers through me. I half turned into him, brushing my mouth against his jawline. I felt a rumble in his chest as he groaned. Deft fingers under my chin tilted my head back and his mouth closed over mine. Normally he was so gentle. Now though, his lips forced mine apart, kissing me deeply, buckling my knees.

Just as suddenly, he broke away, directing my body back toward the tree, leaving me panting and lightheaded. “Bishop,” he whispered.

“Of course,” I whispered hoarsely. Here I was, ready to maul Caden in front of my broken, battered friend. Sighing, I reached up to pull Caden’s arms tighter around me, digging my fingertips into his solid forearms. We stood like that, in silence, our bodies close, until Sofie came back humming “Jingle Bells,” holding a glass of pale yellow opaque liquid. Mage followed closely behind with a set of sparkly pink and gold ornaments dangling from her fingertips. I don’t know how they could be so festive with the weight of the situation sitting on their shoulders. I noticed that my wayward werebeast was nowhere in sight. Probably hunting.

Mage gave a tiny gasp of delight when she saw the tree, her onyx eyes sparkling. “I’ve decorated hundreds of trees and none were as lovely as this one,” she said, offering me a pleasant smile.

Sofie bowed dramatically and stood, a grin of pride lighting up her mesmerizing face. “Well then, after you, my friend!”

Mage nodded her appreciation as she leapt onto the ladder, nimbly scaling the rungs to the top to hang an ornament.

“Here,” Sofie smiled, offering me a tall glass. “Eggnog. Freshly made. You need the fat. You’ve gotten too thin.”

I let go of Caden’s arms to take the glass, a silent thanks on my lips. Caden took that as his chance to help Mage with the other ornaments. I watched the two of them hang bulbs off the branches while I sipped the creamy concoction, relishing how much it reminded me of Christmas with my mother. By the time they finished, every branch held at least one bulb. Breathtaking.

“Ready?” Sofie called out, stooping to plug the light into the socket. The tree lit up, a thousand tiny lights reflecting off the ornaments for a dazzling display, even in daylight.

Mage clapped and put her arm around Sofie’s shoulder, the first sign of affection I’d ever seen from the vampiress. Even Caden’s face lit up with childlike excitement. Such a small thing as Christmas lights amidst the turmoil of impending doom could sparkle like a diamond embedded in mud. I peered over my shoulder, curious if the beautiful sight had caught even Bishop’s attention, not expecting it. I was astonished to find his attention riveted to the spectacle.

I smiled sadly. Bishop was still in there. Somewhere, deep inside his misery, our friend was there. Suddenly, the urge to bring Bishop back to the world of the living now—not later, not with time and healing—overwhelmed me.

“What do you think, Bishop?” I pulled my shoulders back and put on a brave smile as I walked toward him. “Beautiful, huh?” Even though he couldn’t talk or smile or move in any way, I knew he was in there and he needed to know we were here for him, that we cared and were heartbroken as well. Recalling with reluctance the weird sensations from the night before when I touched his arm, those overpowering feelings of despair when our gazes met, I gritted my teeth, preparing myself. If he can take it, so can I. I bent down to place my hand on his, to feel his cool flesh, to let him know that I would be here for him as best I could …