Holidays Bite: A Limited Edition Collection of Holiday Vampire Tales Read online

  Holidays Bite

  A Limited Edition Collection of Winter Holiday Vampire Tales

  Holidays Bite © 2020 Margo Bond Collins, Dangerous Words Publishing

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  All individual story copyrights remain in control of the individual authors over their own works: Copyright © 2020 Laura Greenwood, Margo Bond Collins, Mirren Hogan, Elizabeth Dunlap, Edeline Wrigh, Kat Parrish, Stephany Wallace, Nicole Zoltack, Tina Glasneck, J. A. Cummings, Quirah Casey, Imani L Hawkins, Elise Hennessy, Renee Hewett, Helen Scott, Tricia Schneider, Tameri Etherton, Lily Luchesi, N.J. Ember, R. L. Wilson, Merrie Destefano, Joe Quackenboss, Mandy Rosko, Cate Cassidy, Angela Nicole Chu, Sheena Austin.

  Cover Design by TJM Cover Designs.

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  These are works of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  First Oath

  Laura Greenwood

  Hell’s Silver Bells

  Margo Bond Collins

  Fangs in the Outback

  Mirren Hogan

  Tales of the Favored: a Christmas Tale

  Elizabeth Dunlap

  The Longest Night

  Edeline Wrigh

  Silent Moonlight

  Kat Parrish

  Cursed by Christmas

  Stephany Wallace

  Paranormal Winter

  Nicole Zoltack

  Blood Sealed

  Tina Glasneck

  Spy Versus Spy

  J. A. Cummings

  Devoted

  Quirah Casey and Imani L Hawkins

  Dhampir’s Wish

  Elise Hennessy

  Mistletoe And Vampires

  Renee Hewett

  Mage’s Midnight Kiss

  Helen Scott

  A Whisper from the Grave

  Tricia Schneider

  A Crimson Christmas

  Tameri Etherton

  Holiday Hell

  Lily Luchesi

  Crimson Kiss

  N.J. Ember

  A Christmas Bite

  R. L. Wilson

  Fairytale Christmas

  Merrie Destefano

  A Vampire’s Christmas Concerto

  Joe Quackenboss

  The Vampire And Dragon's Christmas

  Mandy Rosko

  Love Bites

  Cate Cassidy

  Baby, They’re Cold Outside

  Angela Nicole Chu

  In Possession

  Margo Bond Collins and Sheena Austin

  First Oath

  A Bite Of The Oath Prequel

  Laura Greenwood

  About First Oath

  When an old friend turns up at the Black Fan to see Bindi with a proposition, she finds herself unable to say no.

  While on Julian's arm at a Yuletide ball, Bindi finds herself back in a world she thought she'd escaped, only this time, she's pretending to be someone's girlfriend.

  Can she convince the vampire elite that she's Julian's girlfriend? Or will the whole plot unravel around them?

  -

  First Oath is a fake fiancée vampire romance and a prequel to Bite Of The Oath, part of the Black Fan series. It follows Bindi and Julian as they go to their first engagement as a fake couple.

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  Author’s Note: This is a prequel to Bite Of The Oath, a fake fiancée vampire paranormal romance. First Oath is set approximately three months prior to the start of Bite Of The Oath and follows Bindi and Julian as they pretend to be together for the first time. As such, there is a happy for now in First Oath, but there will be a happily ever after in Bite Of The Oath! Happy reading!

  Chapter 1

  I smooth down my dress, making sure there aren't any wrinkles in it. While the style is different from the dresses Lady Catherine wears, I try to keep to her colour palette when I'm dressing. She always looks so elegant and a small part of me always wants to emulate her style. But I wasn't born five hundred years ago. I can't get comfortable in the same wide sweeping skirts and tight bodices as she is.

  At a hundred years old, I'm more used to the sparkling diamantes, tall feathers, and loose-fitting dresses of the jazz age. I just choose to wear them in more striking shades of red and black.

  I enter the room with my head held high and my hips swaying invitingly. Years of practice mean I'm well aware of the effect they have on people. Especially men, but not exclusively. I have been known to take on female clients from time to time.

  "You called for me, Lady Catherine?" I ask, lowering my voice as I speak.

  A wry smile tugs at the corners of Catherine's lips. She knows what I'm doing. She's the one who taught me many of my tricks. Though I don't think she enjoys using them as much as I do.

  "I did, a Lord Melberry is in the other room, he wants to talk to you about a proposition."

  My eyes widen. Julian. What's he doing here? The last place I ever thought I'd run into my brother's best friend is the Black Fan. Most men just say that visiting courtesans isn't their thing, but with Julian, he always means it.

  "Is everything okay?" I ask hastily, forgetting the persona I've put on for the clients.

  She nods. "I believe so. He asked for you specifically, though."

  "Do you know what he wants?"

  "He wouldn't say. That's up to you to get out of him."

  I grimace. That doesn't sound fun. Most of the jobs are run through Catherine first. She likes to make sure everyone is properly vetted and isn't about to do something horrible. Julian isn't even a client.

  Catherine reaches out and places a hand on my arm, giving it a quick squeeze. "I know the family from when I was back at court. The daughter debuted at the same time as me. They were a good family."

  "You debuted with Lady Elisa?" I blurt, thinking of Julian's disapproving Mother. She always looked down her nose at me and my brother. In her mind, we came from new money, and that never lasts.

  I suppose for me, it didn't. My parents cut me off when I became a courtesan. Apparently, they don't approve of my career choice. Which is fine. I don't approve of everything they do anyway.

  "I did. It feels strange to think of her now. But she was always kind to me."

  That doesn't sound like the woman I know, but I let it slide. "Why did you let him in?" I glance at the door to the other room as I ask, my curiosity getting the better of me.

  "A gut feeling," she admits. "And he knew your full name. Most people don't."

  True. I've gone to great lengths to make sure no one knows my family name, mostly to protect them. Though I suspect they don't care.

  "If you don't want to go in there, you don't have to. I
can get rid of him for you."

  I shake my head. "It's fine. He was still a good man last I heard, I can talk to him."

  "I'll be waiting in the kitchen in case you need me, though. Just press the button."

  "Thank you." I smile at her, truly grateful for what she's offering. From what I've heard, several of the Madams in the city wouldn't be as concerned with my wellbeing as Catherine is. She's cut from a different cloth than some of the hardened women in this industry, which is surprising given that she's spent as long as she has being sold for her body. From the whispers I've heard around the brothel, not all of it had been as voluntary as the situation she has going here.

  "It's no problem. Be safe, Bindi." She turns on her heels and sweeps out of the room, her long belled skirt swinging behind her.

  A sigh escapes me. Her wardrobe is truly exquisite.

  But I'm not here to study what my boss is wearing. I'm here to see someone I haven't in at least thirty years. I didn't even know he was inside the city walls.

  I stride over to the full-length mirror that sits in the corner of the waiting room, mostly for moments like this. I study my reflection and smooth out my dress again to make sure it's perfect. I'm not sure why I'm bothering with all of this. Julian knows what I look like.

  Except, that isn't completely true. Despite my teenage crush on him, he's ten years my senior. It isn't so much of a problem now we're over a hundred, but back when I was first becoming a woman, the age gap was too much. He'll only ever have thought about me as his best friend's baby sister.

  If he ever thought about me at all, which somehow, I doubt. An attractive man like him won't have had any shortage of female company.

  With a final bite of my upper lip, I prepare myself to face him.

  Though what he's here for is still a mystery to me.

  Chapter 2

  I push the door open, ignoring the nerves fluttering away in my stomach. I haven't seen Julian in years, and can't work out what he's up to. It isn't like him to suddenly show up like this. I've never seen him in the Black Fan.

  Thankfully, I haven't seen my brother here either, but I doubt that's because he doesn't go to brothels. He's just trying to avoid me like the rest of my family.

  The moment I step into the room, I'm transported back nearly a century. Julian is as frozen in time as I am. As handsome and youthful as he's ever been. But there's something in his eyes. Like he's wise beyond his looks.

  Which he no doubt is. We may stop ageing, but we never stop growing and learning. It's what makes the oldest vampires the most formidable.

  "Julian." I greet him with a small nod of my head.

  "Belinda, you look as beautiful as ever," Julian proclaims, opening his arms to give me a hug, but then thinking better of it.

  "Only Mother calls me that anymore," I point out. Though it's technically a lie. She doesn't call me anything if she doesn't have to.

  "So what shall I call you?"

  I shrug. "Most people call me Bindi."

  "Bindi," he tries it out, rolling it around his mouth. "It suits you."

  A warmth spreads through me at his words, but I push it away. His opinion doesn't mean anything to me, and I shouldn't pretend that it does.

  "What are you doing here, Julian? This doesn't seem like your kind of establishment." It's best if I cut straight to the point. The less we mess around with politeness instead of the truth of the matter, the better.

  He runs his hand through his dark red hair and gives out an uncomfortable laugh. "I have a proposition for you."

  "Then it's a good job I'm used to those."

  Shock crosses his face.

  I raise an eyebrow. "I'm a courtesan, Julian," I remind him.

  He gives an exasperated sigh. "I know that. It's why I came to you."

  It's my turn to be surprised. "What exactly are you after?"

  I gesture to the cosy sofa at the side of the room with the intention that we'll sit. I'm not sure what makes me choose that and not the table which will put more distance between us. Perhaps it's simply that a part of me trusts him.

  Julian takes the offered seat and clears his throat.

  "I'm in need of a girlfriend."

  I raise an eyebrow. "That's not really what we do here." I smooth out the back of my dress as I sit down next to him. "A brothel isn't the best place to find someone to date."

  He chuckles nervously. "I don't need a real girlfriend. I need someone to pretend."

  "Wouldn't it be easier to find yourself a real one?"

  I don't understand why he can't. He's charming, handsome, and kind. Or at least, he was when I knew him. He shouldn't have any problems finding a woman to go places with him.

  A blush rises to his cheeks. "I've been having problems with that," he admits. "Most of them only seem to want me for my money and title."

  "Does your title even mean much these days?" The question is out of my mouth before I can think twice about it.

  I resist the urge to cover my mouth and draw attention to the fact I've broken all kinds of decorum rules in the process. I know better. I've been trained better. I haven't become one of the best courtesans in the City Of Blood without learning how to hide my opinions. But somehow, being around someone from my childhood is reversing all of that.

  Julian doesn't seem phased by my outburst, though. He simply shrugs. "Some people care about it, others don't. I think it depends on when and where they were born."

  Ah, yes. The age-old problem of vampire society. We live longer than other supernaturals and that means we take more time to adapt, even when we shouldn't. It means a lot of old school thinkers mix with the new, creating an odd culture that no one really understands.

  "I didn't realise women were still so shallow."

  He chuckles. "Only the ones I want to avoid."

  "And the money?" I prompt.

  His family isn't just noble, they're incredibly wealthy nobles. And that's not something that's likely to have changed. I'm surprised the government hasn't brought in some kind of law that taxes vampires to reduce their wealth. Though I suppose that doesn't matter to those of us who live in the only walled city that's made entirely of vampires and humans. I'm not even sure when the rest of the supernaturals got out. They were here when the wall went up, the Mayor even tried to encourage them to come. No doubt she wanted them to act as a police force while us vampires are locked inside away from the sun. But it didn't last. Numbers dwindled to non-existence. I can't think of a single shifter, witch, or even reaper still inside the city walls.

  "The ones who want the money are even worse," he says, breaking through my thoughts.

  "So you came to a place where everything is about money?" I raise an eyebrow, but mostly because I'm amused.

  "You're honest about it, though. There's a contract. The women here are after an amount of money that's revealed upfront, not as much as you can get."

  "Not every brothel is as honest as this one," I warn him. If he's stayed away from the brothels, then he'll have no idea how to deal with the women that work there. I'd like to think of myself, and the other girls I know, as good people, but not everyone is like that.

  "I'm sure they aren't," he agrees. "But it's certainly better than women who pretend to love you just to get their hands on the bank account."

  I grimace. It must be horrible for him to have to deal with that.

  "But that still doesn't explain why you're here and looking for a girlfriend for the night," I point out.

  "You're right, I'm sorry." He reaches out as if to touch my hand, but then thinks better of it. He rests his hand against his knee and taps it with his fingers in a steady rhythm.

  I wait for him to continue, knowing he will. He's come here with a purpose and isn't going to leave until he's achieved it.

  "I've been invited to the Yuletide ball. If I don't take someone with me, then some of the women who want me for my money will start throwing themselves at me. Some of the married ones too." A shiver runs down his spine.


  "I thought men were supposed to like it when women do that?"

  "Ha, not me. Maybe some do, but I'd rather a woman likes me for me, not for something my family did once upon a time."

  "You might be surprised, some of them are probably lovely women," I point out. Though having been to several parties with the vampire elite in attendance, I know that's not true for most. They don't seem to think about anything but their own pleasure, no matter what the cost.

  "I don't want to take the risk to find out."

  "And your master plan is to take someone who fakes being your girlfriend?"

  "Yes."

  "And your choice has fallen on me?" I raise an eyebrow, confused by how this is all going to work out.

  "You've known me a long time." He shrugs as if that's his only consideration.

  "Years ago."

  His disappointment shows on his face. "I just thought you'd be willing to help."

  My heart cracks in two for him, and before I know it, I'm reaching out and placing a hand over his. "I will help you. I guess I'm just worried. Don't they ban courtesans from the Yuletide ball?"

  He frowns. "They do?"

  I nod. "I can ask Lady Catherine about it to be certain, but I think they do. I know we're not scheduled to work that evening."

  "Oh."

  "But that could be how we get around it." Excitement builds inside me. I haven't been to the Yuletide ball since my family disowned me. Not that they'll be there. They never go. They simply stopped my invitations out of spite. "It's my night off. If I'm not working, then technically, I'm not a courtesan."

  "I thought that would be something you always are," Julian responds.