Fangs for Christmas

Fangs for Christmas

Cutter Phoenix

Culver City, CA

For information on the cover illustration and design, contact Taria

Reed.

Editor: Marci Baun

ISBN: 978-1-61798-075-6

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This book may contain graphic sexual material and/or profanity
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Fangs for Christmas

Chapter One

The door slammed behind Tristan, its bell jingling

merrily. He grinned at the Christmas decorations tacked up
across the store. Cut to Your Order was the best butcher shop
in town, but, right now, it looked like Santa’s workshop.

“Damn, Patricia,” he called to the woman behind the

counter, “has Santa started delivering steaks and pork chops,

too?”

Her gentle laughter reached him. “Hey, what can I say? I

love the holiday season. What can I get for you tonight?”

“I want a big, thick steak. Wrap it loosely because I’m

going straight home from here to cook my supper.”

“Sure thing, Tristan.” She worked quickly and handed

him the white-paper bundle. “Anything else? It’s about time
for me to close up shop.”

“No, that’s all. Merry Christmas, Patricia. I hope you find

something special under your tree.”

“If that man of mine doesn’t give me an engagement ring

soon, I might have to tie his pecker in a knot.”

He burst out laughing. If anyone could cheer him up, it

was her. “You have a great guy,” he finally replied. “He’ll
come around, so don’t worry. I sure wish I could find
someone special, too.”

“There are a lot of nice men in this town.” Patricia winked

at him. “Just be patient, sweetie.”

He nodded. “Goodnight!”
“’Night, Tristan!”
Outside, snow swirled down on Pittsburgh. Tristan stared

up  at  the  puffy  flakes  as  they  filtered  between  the  bright
security  lights.  It  had  been  a  couple  of  years  since  the  city
had  enjoyed  a  white  Christmas.  He  just  wished  he  had
someone to share the holiday with.

Looking up and down the quiet street, Tristan decided to

cut through the narrow alley running between Patricia’s shop

and the used bookstore next door. Due to drug dealers and

Fangs for Christmas

gangs, he didn’t travel the alleys, but this one was kept clean
and clear of debris and shipping crates, and both buildings
lining it had entrances to upstairs apartments so the lighting

was better, too.

With his mind made up, Tristan tucked the package

under one arm and shoved his hands into his coat pockets.
When he’d left his place, he’d forgotten his hat. Now the
wind nibbled at his ears until they grew numb. Hurriedly, he

strode down the center of the passageway. A third of the way
down it, he halted.

He couldn’t be seeing what he was...
Legs.
A pair of legs poked out from the far side of the tenants’

dumpsters. He knelt and leaned so he could look across the

asphalt  and  under  the  bin.  A  person  lay  splayed  across  the
wet  pavement.  Tristan  stood,  grateful  that  the  legs  were
attached  to  a  person  and  not  body  parts  a  killer  had  left
behind.  Cautiously,  nerves  jangling,  he  approached  the
dumpster. He cursed his luck. The last thing he wanted to do

was call the police and spend Christmas Eve describing over
a dozen times how he’d found the victim.

He peeped around the corner of the trash bin. There, flat

on his back, the front of his coat half over his face, lay a man.
Next to him the shattered remains of old dishes spilled from

a big rip in a garbage bag. Some of the shards and pieces
speckled the victim’s coat. Tristan looked from the discarded
rubbish to the bin and then up at the fire escape.

“Mister?”
The guy remained quiet, and Tristan began wondering if

he was dead.

“Hey, mister!”
A low moan reached him.
“Shit!” He didn’t want to get involved in whatever had

happened to this person, but neither could he turn his back
on him. It was already snowing, and the forecast had called

for the temperature to drop into the upper teens. Heavy

Fangs for Christmas

snow was on the way, too. If he didn’t get the victim some
help and the guy died, Tristan would be partly responsible
for his death.

He crouched and rolled the man over. The heels of the

victim’s  cowboy  boots  clonked  hollowly  against  the  asphalt,
and  his  black  duster  fell  open  revealing  a  royal  purple
button-down shirt with a black, shiny tie. Tristan let his gaze
wander  over  the  guy.  It  didn’t  appear  he  had  any  wounds

except for a tiny streak of blood oozing from his hairline. His
attention fell on the man’s profile. Tristan froze. Something
was very familiar about this guy.

“Come on, dude.” Tristan tugged on his coat, attempting

to pull him into a sitting position. “Wake up.”

Gradually, the man opened his eyes. Tristan frowned and

peered closer. The fellow’s pupils nearly encompassed his
irises.

“Hey, are you all right?”
“I’m...” He blinked rapidly and tried to focus. “I’ll be fine.

I just need some time to recover.”

“Well, I’m guessing you have a concussion.” Reaching

into his right coat pocket, Tristan searched for his cell phone.
“I’ll call an ambulance—”

“No!” The word burst from the guy like a roar from a

pissed-off lion.

Startled, Tristan fell backward onto his ass. His iPhone

skittered across the pavement, and his steak landed between
him and the stranger.

The man turned his head from side to side. He tipped his

skull back and inhaled deeply. He kept sniffing, the sound
full of excitement. The bundle on the ground caught his

attention.  He  grabbed  it,  tearing  the  paper  away,  and  then
with  a  growl  that  sent  fear  cascading  through  Tristan,  the
man bit into the meat.

Sucking noises pervaded the alley. The stranger kept

biting into the steak over and over, but he didn’t tear the

meat free and chew. Instead, he sucked like his life depended

Fangs for Christmas

on it.

Scrambling to his feet, Tristan stared down at him. “What

the hell!”

Finally, the victim tossed the steak into the shredded

paper, the fibers and tissue the only things remaining of the
porterhouse.

“What the fuck did you just do?” Tristan whispered.

Every part of him screamed in fear. He met the man’s gaze,

his irises still only the faintest of colored rings. “Are you even
human?”

“I was once,” the man replied. A shadow passed over his

face, followed by a frown of curiosity. “Tristan? Tristan
Maywater?”

A chill swept over him. He eyed the guy suspiciously.

“And you are?”

“Justice Fayhee,” he said as beef blood dribbled over his

chin. “Don’t you remember?”

Shock hit Tristan with the force of a crashing jet. Oh, he

remembered...too well.

He said the first thing that popped into his head: “What

happened here?”

“Some jerk tossed a bag of garbage down from the fire

escape. He missed the dumpster, hitting me instead. I have a
knot on my head,” he rubbed the spot where the blood flow

had finally stopped, “but I’m fine.” He smiled. “Aren’t you
glad to see me, Tristan?”

Before he could react, he found Justice standing toe to toe

with him. Startled, he could only gape at his ex before he
encircled Tristan in his arms and claimed his mouth.

Stunned, he stood still as stone. His ex-lover’s cold lips

moved across his, and all Tristan could think about was how
he’d closed the distance between them so quickly.

Fangs for Christmas

Chapter Two

Images assailed Tristan. Memories of lying in Justice’s

arms, long evenings of studying together for college exams,
and enjoying espresso at the tiny cafe four blocks off campus.
He’d missed Justice so much over the years. The night hours
had been the worst. In fact, there were moments he thought
he would die from the heartache. He recalled how they’d

gone Christmas shopping and stole a kiss in public beneath
the mistletoe hanging in the mall’s inner courtyard—the
same night Justice had left him.

He pulled away, breaking the embrace.
“Yeah, I’m fucking glad to see you.” Tristan’s pride stung,

and his heart clenched painfully. He snatched his iPhone up,
spun on his heel, and stalked away, his steps wobbly. “At
least now I know you’re not dead.”

“Wait!”
He kept walking.
“Tristan, I didn’t abandon you.”

Those words nailed him to the spot. He halted so

suddenly he stumbled.

“Please,” his tone tore at Tristan’s soul, “let me explain

what happened and where I’ve been.”

Keeping his back to Justice, he reviewed what had just

occurred. The incident with the steak brought goose flesh to
his arms and tightened the hair on his nape. Danger
whispered in his ears, urging him to just keep walking and
not look back.

“Tristan, you’ve already been exposed. Your only chance

of survival now is to stay with me.”

He blinked, and a cold sweat broke out over his body. The

freezing wind found its way into his collar, cuffs, and
between the big, round buttons lining the front of his coat.
He began shivering, but he didn’t know if it was more from
the wind or his sense of impending danger.

“If you step out of this alley, you’ll be dead in minutes.”

Fangs for Christmas

Justice’s statement ignited somewhere deep inside

Tristan. He whirled and stomped toward his ex-lover. He
halted a few yards away. Even from there, the difference in

Justice startled him. His pupils were normal now, and the
pallor he’d worn earlier wasn’t as pronounced.

“Where the fuck do you get off threatening me?” Tristan

snapped.

“It’s not a threat. I’m stating a fact.” He took several steps

toward  him,  but  stopped  when  Tristan  backed  away.  “By
finding  me  here  like  this,  you’ve  exposed  yourself  to  the
others.  They’ll  kill  you  for  two  reasons.  One,  because  you
now know about us, and two, they’ll murder you to get even
with me.”

“You just sucked a steak dry, dude!” Tristan said. “And

you think taunting me with vague warnings about killers will
frighten me further? What’s going on and why did you dump
me?”

“I didn’t leave you like you think. I left to protect you.” He

glanced up at the fire escape on each building then flicked his

gaze  behind  Tristan.  Finally,  he  checked  over  his  shoulder,
staring  at  the  other  end  of  the  alley.  “Look,  can  we  go
somewhere  else,  preferably  a  public  place?  We’re  exposed
here.”

The serious way he spoke and looked around unnerved

Tristan. Either Justice was sincere, or he’d lost his ever-
loving mind.

“Come on, Tris. After all, it’s Christmas Eve.”
“Damn you.” He sighed and swept his gaze over Justice

from the toes of his silver-tipped, snakeskin cowboy boots to
the snowflakes gilding his black hair. “All right, but only

because it’s Christmas Eve. There’s an all-night diner down
the street from here.”

“Walk, but don’t walk too fast.” Justice fell in step next to

him. “We don’t want to let on that we’re aware of them.”

Frustrated with his vague references, Tristan asked,

“Who are you talking about? Who are they?”

Fangs for Christmas

“Vampires. More specifically the Brotherhood of Blood.

I’m wearing their Pittsburgh leader’s color,” he opened his
coat front revealing the deep purple shirt, “only so the others

won’t try to stake me.”

He shot Justice a startled glance. This was the craziest

thing  he’d  ever  heard.  He  stared  at  his  sneakers  as  they
traversed  the  sidewalk,  the  toes  kicking  up  tiny  puffs  of
snow.  Still,  he’d  just  watched  Justice  tear  into  his

porterhouse and leave nothing but a dried up doily behind.

“Vampires?” Unease poked his spine. “You can’t really

expect me to believe that load of bullshit.”

“I’ll tell you everything once we get to the cafe. For now,”

he lowered his voice, “the ones who don’t yet know I’ve left
the Brotherhood will think I’m just another member should

they see me.”

“Have you been in Pittsburgh this entire time?”
“No, I only came back a few weeks ago. Until recently,

I’ve been in Miami.”

“Why Miami?”

“That’s where I was stationed by the Brotherhood.”
“Dude,” Tristan complained, “you’re not making any

sense. You say vampires, which is ridiculous, but it really
sounds like you’re talking about a gang.”

“It’s a vampire gang, Tristan. They’re in every big city.”

“No way.” The fear drained from him, and laughter

bubbled up instead. “Justice, you always did have a flare for
the dramatic, but this is over the top even for you.”

Something steely gripped his coat front. He felt himself

lifted off his feet so quickly that the world and the snowflakes
swirling in it transformed into a kaleidoscope. A hard surface

met  with  his  back  nearly  knocking  the  air  from  his  lungs.
Tristan  found  himself  pinned  to  a  brick  wall.  He  looked  up
into  Justice’s  feral,  turquoise-glowing  eyes.  His  ex-lover
bared his teeth, revealing a pair of one-inch fangs where eye-
teeth  should  have  been.  The  area  on  either  side  of  his  nose

wrinkled like a panther’s in mid-snarl.

Fangs for Christmas

“Does it look like I’m kidding?” Justice snapped.
“F–fuck!” He couldn’t really be seeing this, could he?

Suddenly, the emaciated slab of butcher’s meat made perfect

sense. “P–please put me down, Justice. I’m sorry. Don’t kill
me.”

“I’d never hurt you,” Justice replied as his fangs retracted

and his face returned to normal. He gently set Tristan on his
feet. “I love you, Tristan. Always have.”

“Then why did you leave me?”
“Like I said, to protect you.”
“Couldn’t you have gone to the police?”
Justice shook his head. “There are vamp cops, too. They

maintain the peace between humans and vampires, but they
squeal on anyone who leaves the Brotherhood.”

“Maybe we should go to my place instead. It’s not much,

but it’s warm and comfortable.”

“No, I don’t want to lead anyone to your home.”
With a deep sigh, Tristan pondered their situation. He

struggled to cope with the new developments in his life. It

was all so preposterous. “Won’t they already know where I
live by now?”

“Maybe, maybe not. But if they don’t, they will soon.” He

threaded his arm through Tristan’s and urged him into a
walk. “For now, let’s go to the diner. The Brotherhood won’t

dare make a scene in a public place and risk exposing
themselves to humans. I’ll explain what happened to me, and
then maybe you’ll forgive me.”

He’d forgiven Justice long ago, but it didn’t make the

wound in his heart heal any faster.

“Well?”

Tristan nodded. “Okay.”
He moved to make his way down the sidewalk, but

Justice  spun  him  around  and  kissed  him  again.  Checking
both  directions,  he  drew  Tristan  back  against  the  wall  and
into  the  shadow  of  an  abandoned  phone  booth,  its  light

busted and black.

Fangs for Christmas

“Come here,” Justice said softly. “Let me hold you for a

moment.”

At his words, Tristan gulped, the familiar surge of

adrenaline  jumping  through  his  system.  He  allowed  Justice
to  draw  him  closer.  In  the  embrace  of  the  shadows,  he
savored the feel of his ex’s lips on his forehead then along his
temple  and  down  to  his  mouth  where  he  kissed  Tristan
deeply. Their tongues dueled, and dimly he remembered how

Justice had sucked the steak dry and how he’d showed him
fangs and a distorted face. But just as quickly as the
memories surfaced, he dashed them to bits. This was Justice,
his Justice.

He kissed his old lover back and threaded his fingers into

his hair. Everything about his ex felt cold, but surely that

stemmed  from  the  winter  wind?  Justice  pushed  him  more
firmly to the bricks and then swept his hand inside Tristan’s
coat  and  palmed  his  groin.  Thoroughly  aroused,  Tristan
groaned  loudly,  his  cock  hardening  until  it  throbbed
painfully against his zipper.

“I’ve missed you more than you can ever comprehend,”

Justice murmured in his ear. He rubbed Tristan’s erection
faster. “The memories of making love in your loft apartment
are what kept me from going crazy.”

If he didn’t stop caressing him, Tristan would come right

there in his jeans. It had been seven long years since they’d
been together, and he’d not found it in himself to pursue
anyone else, not even for pure carnal pleasure.

“Please, Justice.” He gulped. “Don’t do this to me. You

vanished, and then suddenly you’re back.” His prick
throbbed even harder and he wrestled to keep himself in

check. “And now that you’re here, you show me a world that
scares...” Damn, Justice’s fingers felt wonderful rubbing up
and down his length. “Well, it scares the hell out of me.”

His ex nuzzled his neck, shooting goose bumps over

Tristan’s skin. For a moment, he wondered if Justice was

going to bite him, but he yanked his coat open and knelt in

Fangs for Christmas

front of Tristan.

“What are you...?” He gasped and almost came when

Justice unfastened the button of his pants. “Not here! We

can’t do this here!”

“Shut the fuck up and let me love you.”
And there it was. The familiar command that had always

convinced Tristan to throw caution to the wind. He sighed,
his pulse quickening further once Justice lowered his zipper

and slipped Tristan’s cock out of his briefs. Cold air swirled
around his shaft. Before it could affect him, Justice took him
into his mouth.

“F–fuck! Oh, holy hell...”
He let his head drop back, inadvertently cracking it

against the bricks, but the pain only intensified the

sensations firing through him. Snow burst into their little
hideout. The flakes pelted his face, but he didn’t care. What
Justice was doing to him was well worth it. The cops could
roll up to the curb right now, and he would be powerless to
move until Justice was done pleasuring him.

His ex began a slow, rhythmic motion, pumping his head

up and down. A mewl of delight fell from Tristan’s lips, and
his legs trembled so badly he wondered if he could stand
much longer. Again, Justice slid his mouth over Tristan’s
length. He felt the head lodge firmly in the back of his lover’s

throat. The touch forced a loud gasp from Tristan. Justice
moved back up to the head in one long, glorious sweep and
then back down again.

“Mmm...” Tristan simultaneously fought not to come or

collapse.

Again, Justice released his cock, but instead of slipping

his mouth over it, he focused on licking the head and gently
nipping its edges.

“Justice, I...can’t handle much more.”
“Good,” he said once he released him.
His rough tongue swept from side to side over Tristan’s

erection, but just when he thought Justice would do it again,

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he deep-throated him.

“Ungh!”
Justice let him go. “Give it to me. I want it.” He lapped at

the head. “I want it now, Tristan.”

The year he’d spent with Justice had proved one thing.

Tristan was powerless to refuse him anything. His ex’s words
shoved him over the edge. Fire settled in the base of his spine
and zipped into his balls. The sensation built until he

whimpered from its intensity. The heat arrowed up into his
cock, and he came so hard his legs gave out. Justice caught
him, wrapping his arms around the curve of his ass and
holding him there as he drank him down.

Leaning over Justice, Tristan pumped over and over into

his mouth, reveling in his release. Finally spent, he

shuddered one last time.

“Now that’s a Christmas present,” he gasped.

Fangs for Christmas

Chapter Three

Justice helped him to his feet. He braced Tristan’s

against the wall until he managed to gain his senses.

“Are you going to recover?” A mischievous expression

settled over Justice’s face.

He nodded. “Just...just give me a minute.” He studied his

lover, who had returned to watching the street. “Does this

mean we’re back together?”

“We never broke up.”
“We didn’t?”
“Like I said, I’ll explain things once we reach the diner.”

He held his arm out, elbow crooked. “Come on.”

As he kept pace with Justin, Tristan heard holiday

music—Jimmy Durante singing Frosty the Snowman?—
blaring in the distance, and a ringing bell told of a Salvation
Army volunteer making a last effort for Christmas Eve
donations.

“What were you doing in the alley anyway?” he asked

suddenly. “Were you following me?”

A snort of embarrassment burst from his ex. “No, I was

hoping to score some butcher-shop blood so I wouldn’t have
to feed off a person.”

Tristan offered him an unconvinced look.

“A vampire must have blood to sustain him or her, even if

it’s animal blood. That’s why I grabbed the steak.”

The idea of having to drink from a person or animal

bothered Tristan. He wondered how Justice could live with
himself. Did he kill to feed, or could he just take what he

needed and leave his victims to go on with their lives?

Together, they rounded the corner where the diner’s front

windows blinked rhythmically with red and white Christmas
lights. Justice opened the door and held it for him. Heated
air kissed Tristan’s face, the aroma of bread, cookies, and
pumpkin pie almost palpable in the joint. Grateful for a place

to warm up, he led Justice to the back of the cafe and chose a

Fangs for Christmas

tiny two-person table.

“Can you eat or drink anything besides,” he shrugged,

“you know.”

“Yes.” Justice laughed softly. “Blood is what sustains us,

but I’m able to eat and drink just like any normal person.”

Once the waitress had taken their orders, she returned

shortly with a cup of coffee for Tristan and a tall Bloody Mary
for Justice. Certain she was gone for a couple minutes,

Justice removed a tiny vial from an inner coat pocket, pulled
the rubber stopper free, and dumped the thick, black-red
contents into his drink.

“Is that what I think it is?” asked Tristan, his stomach

turning queasy.

“It wouldn’t be a true Bloody Mary without it if it wasn’t.”

Justice flashed him a smile then stirred the contents. With
speed that amazed Tristan, he replaced the stopper and
returned it to his pocket. “There. Out of sight out of mind.”

“Except for the drink.”
“Just tell yourself its tomato juice.”

“Right. I thought you were at the butcher shop to score a

meal?”

“Oh, you mean the vial.” Justice patted the spot where it

was hidden. “It takes more than a mouthful to satisfy the
hunger.”

Now face to face, Tristan saw that Justice hadn’t changed

in the last seven years. He looked exactly as he had the day
he vanished. He’d looked differently in the alley, but now he
realized what Justice meant by needing blood. Without it, he
transformed into something primeval, otherworldly. Once
the plasma was in his system, he reverted to his normal self.

But what, he wondered, was even remotely normal about

being a vampire?

“So talk,” said Tristan, his curiosity getting the best of

him.

“I went to the coffee stand to get us two large cups for the

walk home.”

Fangs for Christmas

“I remember.”
“Well,” Justice continued, “I was strolling along the upper

wall because the mall was packed that Christmas Eve. When

I passed one of the doors leading to the back storerooms and
janitors’ closets, it opened and someone jerked me into the
corridor. Two guys knocked me out,” he pointed to a fine
silver scar just above his left temple, “and I later woke up in
the Pittsburgh conducător’s home.”

“They were following you?”
Justice nodded, once. “I have strong Romanian roots.

Vampires can smell fear and tell what person has which
blood type. They’ve been kidnapping and turning people with
specific bloodlines. They think it makes the Brotherhood
stronger.”

“So this conducător forced you to become a vampire?”
“Either I allowed him to turn me or his thugs would kill

you.”

Tristan sat quietly sipping his coffee. Everything that had

happened the last hour was insane, but it also made perfect

sense. All this time he’d thought Justice had ditched him that
Christmas Eve seven years ago. Stumbling across him in the
alley, seeing what he’d seen... But now what? He met his ex’s
gaze across the table. Justice was a vampire, and he was
human. What a cruel joke life had played on him.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Justice stated.
“I highly doubt that.” Tristan held his cup out to the

waitress, who had returned to their table with the coffee pot.
Ordering another Bloody Mary, Justice waited for her to
leave.

“You have no idea what the last seven years have been

like for me,” Tristan spoke before his ex could say a word.

“I’ve done nothing but think of you the entire time.”

Justice polished off his first Bloody Mary. “I couldn’t take the
Brotherhood’s twisted bullshit any longer, so I left. I didn’t
mean to come back to Pittsburgh, but thinking about it now,

I realize it was really stupid to go back to a city where its

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conducător wants a stake embedded in my chest. However, it
soon became clear to me that you were the reason I
returned.”

“I thought you said you weren’t following me?”
“I wasn’t, but when I saw you in the alley, I knew then

that I loved you just as intensely as I did seven years ago.” He
placed his hand over Tristan’s, his cool palm. “I want you by
my side. I love you.”

Tristan opened his mouth to reply, but before he could

say anything, the waitress strode toward them with a platter
full of food and Justice’s second drink. She set everything on
the table along with their tickets.

“If you’d like anything else or when you’re ready to settle

your bills, just let me know.” She leaned over and whispered

to Justice, “You do realize that there are two Brotherhood
vamps at the counter?”

Mouth ajar, Tristan could only stare at her. His pulse shot

from steady to warp speed, and he nearly dropped his fork.

“How do you know this?” Justice questioned.

Tristan stared at his ex, who looked ready to strike.
“Word gets around the city pretty fast,” she explained,

“and  you’re  not  the  only  one  who  wants  out  of  the
Brotherhood.”  She  straightened  and  said  in  a  normal  tone,
“If  you’d  like  another  drink,  sir,  just  give  me  a  holler.”

Dropping her voice again, she added, “Finish your meals, but
when you leave, go out the back and let me go with you.”

“Let you...?” Tristan gaped at her.
“They’ll know I warned you and kill me the moment I

step outside alone tonight.”

“Very well,” Justice said, “but if this is a trick, I’ll kill you

myself.”

She returned to the counter where she served an elderly

man a slice of pie.

As Tristan reached for the salt, he leaned a little more

than needed and whispered, “What the fuck are we going to

do?”

Fangs for Christmas

“Run.”
“Wow, what a great plan.”
“We have to put enough distance between us and

Pittsburgh that we can have a chance. I know of a couple
havens for vampires like me and that waitress.”

“How do you know she’s not one of them?”
“She risks a lot by alerting me, that’s why.”
“And here I thought ObamaCare was going to kill

everyone.”

An amused snort drew his gaze back up to Justice’s.
“I see you still have your dark sense of humor.”
“Hey, I have to hold on to something. I don’t have much

left.”

“I’m sorry it’s been so rough on you, Tris. What

happened?”

“After the economy crashed, my cushiony, high-paying

executive job in the steel mill disappeared. The mill had to
reduce costs, so they cut people’s jobs out of the equation.
Then they forced another executive to take on my duties, too.

I’ve been trying to find decent employment for the last four
years.” He stabbed his steak with his fork and sliced through
it  with  his  knife  like  he  was  murdering  someone.  “Now  it
appears  I’m  going  to  lose  what’s  left  of  my  so-called  life
because  of  pissed-off  vampire  gangs.  Like  this  city  doesn’t

have enough gangs and crime as it is.” He motioned for the
waitress. She hurried over, and he said, “Bring me a double
whiskey with a splash of whatever dark pop you have on tap.”

“You need your wits about you when we leave here,” said

Justice, a frown marring his smooth, youthful brow.

“Don’t worry.” He chewed the last bite of steak and tossed

his utensils down. “I’ll be ready to run like hell, but since it’s
now after midnight,” he nodded toward a big clock over the
counter encircled in silver garland, “I’m going to have a drink
and say Merry fucking Christmas.”

Fangs for Christmas

Chapter Four

Tristan finished his drink and paid both their bills. He sat

quietly for several minutes, mind racing. Justice was back in
his  life,  but  it  came  with  a  multitude  of  strings.  He  ticked
them  off  in  his  mind:  vampires,  gangs,  running  for  his  life,
losing  his  home,  leaving  the  only  city  he’d  ever  lived  in,  no
income at all, a conducător bent on murder. Worse, he was

now a part of it all.

But this was Justice, the only man he’d ever loved. He

hadn’t been the same since his companion vanished.

Damn the strings to hell, he’d take Justice any way he

could get him.

“Ready to do this?” he asked.
Justice nodded and threw a look at the waitress hovering

at the far end of the bar. She shifted her eyes, indicating the
kitchen, and then nonchalantly walked through its doors.

“You go first,” Justice said.
He shrugged into his coat and, keeping his head down,

strode  along  the  back  wall  and  into  the  kitchen  as  if  he
worked there. He hurried past the cooks scrubbing grills and
two  busboys  rinsing  dirty  dishes  to  go  into  the  commercial
dishwasher.  The  waitress  waited  in  the  back  doorway,  her
coat  on,  a  purse  strap  over  her  shoulder,  the  bag  wedged

between her side and her arm.

“Hey,” she greeted him. “I’m Eva.”
“Tristan.” He turned and saw his ex right on his heels.

“This is—”

“Vampire’s Most Wanted, Justice Fayhee.” She grinned,

the expression in her eyes smug.

“Damn, my name’s everywhere.” Justice motioned them

out the door. “We better scram while we can.”

“I’m headed for the haven in the north,” Eva explained. “I

have family up there. What about you two?”

“I don’t know yet.” He glanced at Tristan. “We’ll talk

while we travel.”

Fangs for Christmas

Tristan jogged down the side street between his two new

companions, but it became obvious he was slowing them
down. His lungs burned from the cold air.

“There are no cabs,” Eva said.
“Stay off the train. It’s too easy to corner you on it.”
“We could rent a car,” Tristan suggested.
“On Christmas Eve?” Eva shook her head. “No way. No

rental offices will be open at this hour.”

Justice slowed his pace and finally stopped. “Then we

steal one.”

“Are you crazy?” Tristan wheezed, gaping at him. “We’re

running from the Brotherhood and now you want the police
on our asses? You said there are vamp cops.”

“It’s the only shot we have to get the hell out of here. We

have to get far enough away that the conducător’s puppets
won’t sniff us out...or pick up on our mental auras.”

“He’s right,” Eva said.
Snow drifted down, coating the street in a fluffy, white

mantle. A shout came from the direction of the diner.

“All right,” Tristan agreed. “I guess I don’t have a choice

anymore.”

Rapidly, both Justice and Eva moved from vehicle to

vehicle with their hands out, palms up. Tristan watched,
perplexed.

Catching his gaze, his lover said, “We feel the vibes or

energy of the alarm systems. There’s no sense in setting one
off and bringing those vamps straight to us.”

“Here’s one!”
Tristan raced over to Eva, who stood next to a bright

green Kia Soul.

“Are you freaking serious?” Justice questioned. “Out of all

the cars on this street, I have to ride with hamsters?”

She shrugged and offered him a pained expression.
“Can you hotwire this serving cart?” Justice asked

Tristan, who jerked the passenger door open.

“I didn’t spend my entire sophomore summer vacation in

Fangs for Christmas

juvie for nothing.” He pointed at the panel housing the wires
under the steering wheel. Quickly, Justice reached in, yanked
the covering free—the crack of plastic echoed like gunfire in

the crisp air—and then tossed the broken piece on the
ground.

The newer cars weren’t as easy to start as the older

models, but after a couple attempts he succeeded.
Straightening, he turned and flipped the seat forward.

“Of all fucking vehicles for a getaway car...” Justice

muttered behind him.

“If it bothers you that much,” said Tristan, “bite the damn

hamsters so they’ll have your supernatural speed and we’ll
get there faster.” He ducked into the back seat. “Let’s go!”

A low titter escaped Eva. She pushed the seat back and

climbed into the passenger side.

Jumping behind the wheel, Justice put it in gear and

mashed the gas. “I hope this thing does okay in snow.”

Headlights illuminated the inside of the car. Tristan slunk

down in the seat. He doubted bullets would hurt Tristan and

Eva, but one in the back of his skull, should the thugs shoot
at them, would certainly put his lights out.

Snowflakes bombarded the windshield. Crouched

between the two front seats, he tried to keep an eye on the
road, but Justice had always been a good driver. He relaxed

and sat back, keeping his head below the rear windshield.

Eva turned and peered at him. “Say goodnight like a good

boy.”

“What are you—?” Upon seeing the gun barrel aimed at

him between the seats, he froze. “Justice!”

Glancing over at her, Justice swore and backhanded Eva

so  fast  his  arm  was  a  blur.  The  impact  of  his  fist  barely
registered  with  her.  She  snarled,  baring  her  fangs,  and
punched him in the side of the face with her free hand. She
jerked  on  the  steering  wheel.  The  car  veered,  jumping  the
curb  and  crashing  over  a  Christmas  tree  on  a  corner.  Bulbs

pinged off the windshield, and branches scraped noisily

Fangs for Christmas

against the Kia’s underside. The car finally bounced back
into the street. The sudden movements jolted Tristan out of
his seat. He cracked his head on the roof and then found

himself pointed at the floorboards.

“Bitch!” Justice shouted. “I’m going to kill you!”
“Conducător Gavril wants you turned into a pile of ashes!

You broke your oath to the Pittsburgh Brotherhood.”

The car lurched to the right, throwing Tristan into a heap

against the side.

“I didn’t ask to be turned. I wasn’t given a choice!”
“Belonging to the Brotherhood is an honor!”
“Honor this!” He struck her again.
The gun fired, and glass shattered.
Tristan jerked and threw his arms over his head.

“Justice!”

His lover growled, and the vehicle slowed suddenly,

coming to a rapid stop that pressed Tristan against Eva’s
seat. Struggling up off of the floor, he righted himself.

With another vicious, animalistic snarl, Justice fended off

Eva’s attack. She lunged at him a third time, but he grabbed
her by the throat and ripped it out. She gasped and gurgled,
clutching at the spot her esophagus once resided. Blood
soaked her coat and pattered over the seat.

“Fucking hell!” Tristan yelled and drew his feet up where

the blood trickled down onto the floorboards.

“Out of the car.” Throwing open the driver’s door, Justice

got out and flipped the seat forward.

Shaking, Tristan climbed out.
Gurgles still issued from the car.
“What about her?” He jerked his thumb in the car’s

direction.

“She’ll bleed out.” A snort burst from Justice. “All I can

smell is her blood, but I think we lost the others.”

“She’ll bleed out?” Tristan squawked. How could Justice

be so blasé about it?

“Dude, I didn’t kill her, really. If she is of any value to the

Fangs for Christmas

conducător, or if one of the thugs wants to help her, they can
take her someplace where she can feed. She’ll heal herself.
Otherwise...” He shrugged.

“But...”
Justice whirled, startling him. He cupped either side of

Tristan’s face and said, “Are we really going to stand here
and debate whether or not ripping out an undead’s throat is
murder?”

His words finally sank into Tristan’s brain. “Okay, let’s

find shelter or another car. I’m freezing my ass off in this
wind.”

Fangs for Christmas

Chapter Five

Justice stole a Dodge pickup with bucket seats and four-

wheel drive. Next to him, Tristan watched the snowflakes
beat against the windshield. They passed a county truck
salting the highway from the opposite direction, its blinking
yellow lights cutting through the gloom.

“There’s one nice thing about this weather,” Justice

stated, breaking their silence.

“What’s that?”
“The conditions are bad enough that I doubt anyone has

followed us. We’ll have a good head start.”

Although he was thrilled to be with Justice again, worries

twirled in his mind like the snow falling on the foothills. He
never dreamed his Christmas Eve alone would turn into a
reunion that catapulted him into the dark world of vampires.
He’d left his apartment full of his belongings and could never
go back to his life.

He said, “The white Christmas the original forecast called

for has turned into a blizzard.”

“You sound sad, Tris.”
Tristan saw him glance out of the corner of his eye. “Just

scared.”

“I’ll take care of you.”

“How, Justice? You’re running, too.”
“Do you still love me?” He slowed the Dodge as a gust of

wind swept across the road shaking the truck.

“Yes, I love you more than you’ll ever know. I was just

sitting here thinking that nothing will be the same. My world

is  gone.  If  someone  had  told  me  a  few  hours  ago  that
vampires existed, I would’ve laughed my ass off at them. And
now here I am.” He frowned at a whiteout that forced Justice
to  a  stop  and  click  the  hazard  lights  button.  “I  do  love  you,
Justice, but I don’t want to see you killed, and you know the
Brotherhood  will  want  to  use  me  to  flush  you  out  into  the

open.”

Fangs for Christmas

“I won’t let them get you.” His lover put the gearshift in

neutral and held his foot on the brake while the wind
buffeted them. “And where we’re going, we’ll set up a place

with so much security a spider’s fart will set off alarms.”

“Where are we going?”
“Northern Canada. It’s wild, rough, and beautiful, but all

we need is money and supplies.”

“I hope you have cash because I don’t.”

Justice chuckled. He reached over the console and patted

his knee. He let his hand rest there and said, “Don’t worry. I
have plenty of money.” Gradually, he smoothed his hand up
Tristan’s thigh to his crotch and palmed him. “And we’ll be
able to fuck wherever and whenever we want, too.”

An amused snort burst from him. “That sounds awesome,

but I’m not fucking in the snow. Blue balls aren’t very
attractive.”

Justice exploded into a fit of laughter. He leaned over and

kissed Tristan’s neck.

“It looks like the snow is slacking off some,” Tristan said,

pointing.

Pushing in the clutch, Justice shoved the stick into first

gear. Once they were moving again, he turned on the radio.

“If weather conditions persist,” an announcer’s voice

filled the cab, “the forecast predicts sixteen to twenty inches

of snow by dawn.”

“Damn!” Tristan said.
“We need to find someplace safe to hole up until this

blizzard passes.” Justice retrieved his iPhone from his coat
pocket and held it out to Tristan. “See if we get a signal out
here, and if you do, find us somewhere to stay tonight.”

He waited for the info to load on the glowing screen.

“There’s a place called New Alexandria where we might find
a room to rent. Turn left at the next intersection and follow
the highway straight into the town.”

Holiday music kept Tristan entertained as Justice

painstakingly drove through the mounting snow. Eartha

Fangs for Christmas

Kitt’s Santa Baby started playing. Tristan smiled to himself,
having always loved the tune. Up ahead, a snowplow’s
flashing lights sliced through the whiteout. Justice followed

the plow all the way into New Alexandria, where they found a
tiny motel with six rentals.

Luckily, the last one was vacant. Without any luggage or

even a single bag, Tristan waited in the Dodge while his lover
paid the clerk.

Once Justice stepped out of the office, he motioned to

Tristan to follow him. He jumped out of the truck, the icy
wind taking his breath away, and ran over to room number
six.

Inside, Justice turned on a switch bathing the rental in

dim illumination. The room consisted of a double bed, a

dresser, a small round table, and two chairs. In the center of
the table sat a ceramic Christmas tree, and above the dresser
someone had hung a holiday swag with a large, red bow. A
toilet crouched on the other side of a partition wall. A narrow
shower stall and a tiny sink comprised the rest of the meager

facilities.

Another light popped on, and Tristan turned to find

Justice shrugging out of his coat.

Tristan took off his, too, and then stepped around the

divider. He relieved himself and returned to the room. On

the bed, Justice lay with his arms folded behind his head.
The sight of his tall, lanky body ignited Tristan’s blood. An
image of his lover’s head bobbing while he worked Tristan’s
cock turned up the heat already simmering in him.

Grinning, Justice said, “I don’t have a Christmas present

for you.”

“I don’t have one for you either,” he replied. “Being

together again is the best gift I could have ever received.”

“How about a pair of fangs for Christmas?”
On his way across the carpet, Tristan stopped. “You mean

turn me?”

His companion nodded.

Fangs for Christmas

“I don’t know, Justice. The thought of living on blood

makes me ill, and I don’t think I could feed off of people let
alone animals.”

“You can buy blood from various places, even blood

banks.”

“Still, I don’t know how you do it.”
“It takes a while to grow accustomed to vampirism, but it

has a lot of perks, too.”

He sat on the edge of the bed and offered Justice a

serious look. “Let me think about it.”

Sitting up, Justice stared directly into his eyes. “There’s

more to consider than whether or not you can bite someone
and drink their blood. If you’re a vampire, you’ll be more
capable of protecting yourself if, for some unforeseen reason,

I’m not nearby to help you. You’ll be faster, stronger, and
enjoy heightened senses. You’ll also be able to connect with
other vampires, but you’ll have to learn who is in the
Brotherhood and who isn’t.”

“Yeah, and I’m stuck functioning only at night, and I’ll be

highly allergic to stakes, crosses, garlic, and holy water.”

Justice laughed. “Only the part about stakes and

nighttime activity is true.”

He shook his head. Although he didn’t want to disappoint

Justice, becoming a vampire scared the hell out of him.

“Besides,” his partner added, “I don’t want to watch you

grow old and die. I’d rather spend eternity with you.”

That got his attention. He’d never considered the idea

that he’d age and eventually pass away while Justice stayed
forever twenty-four. If he were in his lover’s shoes, he’d feel
the same way.

“Alright,” said Tristan. “How do we—?”
With a deep, guttural growl, Justice moved like lightning,

snatching Tristan by the arms and jerking him tightly to his
chest. He clamped down on Tristan’s jugular vein, fangs
piercing him with white-hot pain.

Tristan cried out, stiffening, “Justice!”

Fangs for Christmas

In seconds, he began to feel lightheaded. Then, just as

quickly, Justice released him and laid Tristan across the bed.
He took Tristan’s hand and pressed it against his own neck

to stay the blood flow. Next, he pulled off his cowboy boots
and peeled his clothes off, followed by stripping Tristan, too.
Naked, he lay next to Tristan. Justice kissed him, beginning
at his collarbones, eliciting soft moans from him, and
stopping at the apex of Tristan’s thighs. There, Justice licked

the crease where Tristan’s leg joined his hip.

The bite wasn’t like he’d thought it would be. In fact, it

was quick and easy. Desire pounded through Tristan, his
cock hardening. He glanced down the length of his body, his
erection bobbing gently just under his navel, pre-cum
glimmering on its tip. He wanted Justice to take him into his

mouth, but instead, he seemed fixated on the spot that
connected his leg to his hip.

“Please, Justice,” he said, “I want you.”
Another growl rumbled out of his lover, and he sank his

fangs into the crease.

“Fuck!” Tristan jerked and tried to sit up, but he met with

Justice’s open palm pushing him back.

His lover began sucking. The more he drew Tristan’s

blood into his body, the more aroused Tristan became. His
prick hardened further until he moaned in glorious agony.

His  cock  throbbed,  but  soon  he  felt  weak  and  dizzy.  The
desire faded, and his erection grew flaccid. The only sounds
in  the  room  were  the  throaty  snarls  and  sucking  noises
coming  from  Justice.  Finally,  even  those  grew  distorted,
muffled.

His lover sat up. Tristan stared bleary-eyed at him. Blood

covered his lower face and wound a bright path down his
neck and onto his muscled chest. “Now you die.”

Fangs for Christmas

Chapter Six

Terror roared through Tristan. Fear of dying, fear that

something had gone wrong with the turning process, and
fear that he’d never see Justice again.

“I hear your heartbeat,” Justice told him. “It’s faint and

very weak. Once I drain the last drop of blood from you,
you’ll die. I know it’s frightening, but it’s part of the process.

When you wake up, we can be together forever.”

He drew Tristan into his arms and clamped down on the

wound in his neck, sucking hard, once, twice, three times.

Tristan knew the moment his heart stopped beating. He

inhaled sharply, let out the breath, and plunged into

darkness.

An explosion seared his mind. Crimson lights danced in

his  brain,  and  he  floated  in  the  ether  free  of  his  physical
shell.  Brightness  and  warmth  loomed  ahead  of  Tristan.  He
tried to reach for it, somehow sensing it was meant for him.
Instead, something  seized him, yanking hard, and he found

himself drawn through the gyrating crimson lights and
enveloped in total nothingness.

He screamed, but no sound came from him.
He opened his eyes to find Justice smiling down at him.
“Welcome to immortality.”

“How long have I been...?” He searched for the right

word.

“Dead?”
He nodded.
“About three hours,” Justice said. “How do you feel?”

What happened to him had seemed so real, yet here he

lay next to Justice as if he’d never drawn his last breath. He
looked around the motel room, one need or thought more
prevalent than anything else.

“Tristan?”
“I don’t know,” he answered finally. “Hungry?”

“Well, it might be difficult finding anything to eat in this

Fangs for Christmas

blizzard, but maybe the hotel manager will suffice until
tomorrow night.”

Appalled by the thought, Tristan cast his lover a horrified

look.

“Don’t worry.” Getting up, his mate glanced around the

floor for his clothes. “I’ll handle it so she won’t remember me
being there. She’ll wonder where she got the pin pricks from
and then dismiss it.”

“You promise you won’t kill her?”
“Damn, Tristan, I promise. I don’t kill anyone unless it’s a

life and death situation, and I’m sure you’ll be the same
way.”

“I want to be with you, but I won’t murder innocent

people.”

“That’s as it should be in the vampire realm,” Justice

agreed, “but sadly it’s not often the case.” He slipped into his
coat and opened the door. Snow and freezing wind burst
through it. “I’ll be back in a few.”

And he was gone.

Tristan stared at the door. He believed Justice would

keep his promise. However, would he be able to drink human
blood? It felt like fire raced through his veins, the worst part
of it centering in the middle of his chest. It seemed like a lack
of food, a needy type of hunger but more—like he’d go crazy

if he didn’t get it soon.

He rose and walked naked around the partition then

stepped into the tiny shower stall. He washed the blood from
his body, marveling how his wounds were already half
healed.

“Tristan?”

“In here,” he called.
“Hurry up so this doesn’t get cold. Once the warmth is

gone from blood, it tastes terrible.”

He wrapped a towel around his hips and strode into the

room.

Justice held a foam cup out to him. “Hurry. Don’t even

Fangs for Christmas

think about it. Just take it and down it. Once you do, your
aversion to drinking blood will disappear.”

He hesitated.

“Now, Tristan!”
Galvanized into action, he grabbed the cup, tore the lid

off, and gulped the contents.

The thick, coppery odor of life coated his throat and his

senses. Tristan swallowed the last little bit and gasped. Pain

seared his throat, his chest. He fell to the floor where he
kicked and thrashed.

“What’s happening to me?” He tried to see Justice

standing over him, but a red haze over his eyes blinded him.
“Justice!”

“Don’t fight it.” A cool palm landed on Tristan’s forehead.

“The true making of a vampire is the first drink of blood. It
hurts like hell, but if I had told you this would happen, it
would’ve frightened you even more.”

“Fuck!” More pain flashed through his body, and, for a

moment, Tristan thought he might burst into flames.

“It will subside soon.”
And, to Tristan’s relief, Justice was right. He stopped

convulsing, his skin chilled, and the hunger vanished.

Justice offered his hand and hauled him to his feet. He

picked up the towel and swung it around Tristan’s hips,

tucking and securing the upper corner.

Tristan met his gaze. “Everything is brighter, sharper.”
“Just wait, it gets better.”
“And the woman is okay?”
“Yes, she’s asleep in her recliner with the TV on. She’ll

wake in a few hours and won’t remember a thing. I even

locked the motel office up for her so she’ll think she did it.”

“Thanks, Justice.”
“Hey, I feel the same way you do, really.”
Worry returned to Tristan. He might be able to defend

himself better now that he was a vampire, but he was still

putting the love of his life in danger.

Fangs for Christmas

As if Justice had sensed his thoughts, he said, “We’ll take

care of each other, Tris, protect each other.”

“You’re in even more danger now because we found one

another again. You said yourself that the Brotherhood will
use me to get to you.”

“But now it works both ways. They’ll want me, too, so

they can draw you out and force you to work for them. If
Conducător Gavril doesn’t try to bring you in, another

conducător from another major city will seek your
allegiance.”

“So all vampires are required to belong to one conducător

or another?” asked Tristan.

“It’s a problem that is mostly in the States. Vampires are

leaving the country in hoards. If they do stay, they go to the

havens.”

“So it’s Canada for us?”
“For the time being, yes.”
“What do we do now?”
“Well,” Justice said, grinning, “we make love and then

sleep through the daytime. Then, tomorrow night, we’ll
collect some things we’ll need for our trip and head north
toward the border.”

The idea of leaving behind everything he’d ever known

left him feeling empty and anxious. “Is this what you went

through when you were abducted and turned?”

“Yes and no. You’re probably having the same misgivings

about leaving your human world, but I didn’t have anyone to
lean on when I was a newly made undead.” Justice swept his
fingers through Tristan’s damp hair and cupped one side of
his face. “Ask me anything. Don’t be afraid to talk to me

about your fears and concerns either, okay? It will be easier
for you that way.”

“Thanks.” He hugged Justice, resting his head on his

shoulder.

“Come to bed.”

Those three little words flamed their way into Tristan’s

Fangs for Christmas

heart and straight to his cock. It swelled and twitched with
need, tenting the front of his towel.

Justice parted the cloth and grasped Tristan’s erection.

He pumped his hand over its hardness several times. Tristan
groaned,  his  arousal  overwhelming  everything  else.  Slowly,
Justice  pushed  him  toward  the  bed  until  the  backs  of
Tristan’s  knees  connected  with  the  mattress.  With  a  low
growl, Justice spun him around and bent him over it.

Heat ebbed and flowed through Tristan. He wanted to

feel Justice inside him so badly his legs quivered. He
remembered how his lover had pushed him into the shadows
by the phone booth and performed tongue maneuvers that...
He gulped, the memory almost making him come on the bed.

Justice placed his hands on Tristan’s shoulders. He

kneaded the muscles, and Tristan let out a contented sigh as
his mate’s fingers worked magic on the knots. Gradually, he
relaxed. Justice smoothed his hands down his back, over his
hips, and then up again to his shoulders.

“That feels great,” Tristan murmured.

“Shh, enjoy the sensations.”
He nudged Tristan. Sensing what his lover wanted, he

moved up onto the bed.

“Hang onto the headboard,” Justice commanded.
Tristan grasped the old, metal bars. He glanced over his

shoulder at his partner, who rummaged in the nightstand
drawer, slapped it shut, and then hurried into the bathroom.

“Fuck! I can’t find any lube.”
Smiling, Tristan replied, “It never stopped us before.”
“I know,” his lover returned to the bed, “but it’s been a

while, hasn’t it?”

“Seven years.”
“No one else?” Justice arched a thick, dark eyebrow. “Not

even for tension relief?”

He released the rails. “You’re the only one I’ve ever

wanted.”

Quickly, Justice took off his clothes and left them on the

Fangs for Christmas

carpet. “I’ll be gentle.”

Tristan gripped the headboard again. Behind him, he

heard Justice spit, followed by his touch on Tristan’s hip and

fingers sliding into his ass crack. His mate found the tight
muscle there and probed delicately. The touch shot arrows of
desire through Tristan. He wanted Justice so badly his cock
hurt, but they had to go slowly to ensure the greatest
pleasure and prevent damage.

Panting, he gripped the bars so hard his knuckles ached.

He found himself pushing against Justice’s fingers, wanting
more,  needing  to  feel  him  buried  inside  his  body.  The  bed
shifted  under  Justice’s  weight  as  he  kept  his  digits  stroking
in  and  out  of  Tristan’s  ass.  Justice  reclined  under  him.  His
mate’s  hair  brushed  Tristan’s  cock,  and  he  sucked  in  a

startled breath at the touch.

Kisses landed here and there all over his torso. Each one

left a damp print on Tristan’s skin. He tried steadying his
breathing, but when Justice moved up his chest and bit one
of his nipples, Tristan cried out. Moving back down his body,

Justice rained more kisses on his flesh, leaving more wet
marks in their wake, fingers still buried in his ass. He closed
his mouth over Tristan’s cock.

“Oh, my...!” he jerked. “If you keep that up, I’ll come,

Justice.”

His lover released him just long enough to mumble, “So

come. We have all night.”

Fangs for Christmas

Chapter Seven

Justice deep-throated him.

“Ungh!” Tristan gripped the bars so hard he heard the

metal groan under the pressure.

His lover slid his mouth up and down Tristan’s pulsing

length. Justice worked another finger into his passage, the
slight burning sensation pleasant at this point, but when he

began stroking the special gland there, Tristan sucked in a
long, hard breath. Again, the headboard’s rails bent in his
fists.

“J–Justice, I c-can’t take—”
That all-too-familiar feeling of an impending orgasm

settled first at the base of Tristan’s spine. It tumbled into his
balls and careened up his shaft. The sensation built to
excruciating proportions, and soon Tristan was crying out
over and over as he spurted into Justice’s greedy mouth.

His breath heaving, Tristan clung to the headboard.
Justice chuckled softly. “You’re still very passionate.”

“You still make me feel like I’m going to explode into a

million pieces,” Tristan said between gasps of air.

“Now I’ll teach you something amazing.”
Hands tugged him down the length of the bed. Tristan

looked up at Justice as he pulled the covers back from one

side.  He  wiggled  under  them,  and  Justice  joined  him.  They
caressed one another for several minutes until Tristan’s cock
flared  to  life  a  second  time.  Justice  spat  onto  his  fingers
again, spread the saliva into Tristan’s ass, and then rolled on
top  of  him,  sandwiching  their  hard  shafts  between  their

bellies.

“I’ve missed this,” said Tristan.
“So have I. The nights that have passed where I’ve

thought only of you are too numerous to count.”

Letting his legs fall apart, Tristan moaned in urgency.

Justice settled between them, his cock sliding along Tristan’s

frenulum and then into his ass crack.

Fangs for Christmas

“Please,” said Tristan.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Justice replied, “and you’ll be

so sore tomorrow you won’t be able to walk.”

“I don’t care.” Fiery need thrummed through Tristan. “It’s

been so long since we’ve been together.”

Justice kissed him, their tongues dancing to a mysterious

rhythm only they understood, their breaths mingling. The
stubble on Justice’s chin rasped gently against Tristan’s. He

let Justice deepen the kiss, excitement clamoring through
him. He felt Justice shift his hips, positioning his cock until
he found the entrance to his passage. His lover pushed
gently, and Tristan growled with pleasure.

Still claiming Tristan’s lips, Justice pushed a little harder.

The ring of muscles gave even more. Tristan snapped his legs

around  his  lover’s,  hooking  his  heels  over  Justice’s  calves.
Through the feel of his mate’s penetration, Tristan could tell
he’d  only  inserted  the  head  of  his  cock.  He  tried  wiggling
with  impatience,  but  Justice’s  weight  pinned  him  to  the
mattress. He raked his fingernails up and down his vampire’s

back, prompting a moan from Justice that fueled the need
steadily building in Tristan.

Justice released his mouth and looked down into his eyes.

“Are you ready for something only vampires can do?”

“Anything you want.”

Lowering his head, Justice kissed along Tristan’s jaw to

his  ear  and  down  the  side  of  his  neck.  He  slid  deeper  into
Tristan,  the  burn  of  his  widening  muscles  both  painful  and
wonderful.

“Oh, yeah,” Tristan whispered. “Fuck me, Justice.”
Quick breaths spilled over Tristan’s neck where Justice

licked and kissed him. Sighing happily, Tristan turned his
head, allowing him access and was rewarded by the sharp,
piercing pain of Justice’s bite and the simultaneous push into
his ass, burying Justice’s cock in him to the root.

The cry that burst from Tristan’s lips startled him as

much as Justice’s fangs embedding in his jugular did. Lava

Fangs for Christmas

coursed through his body and straight to his cock still
wedged between their bodies. It thumped rapidly, and
Tristan almost begged for release.

Justice sucked lightly from him and laved his tongue back

and  forth  between  his  buried  fangs.  Stars  exploded  in
Tristan’s  head.  The  lava  sensation  grew  a  hundred  times
more  pronounced  and  spread  to  his  extremities.  Even  his
fingernails pulsed with sensation.

Pinned beneath his mate, Justice’s cock fully inside him

and  his  fangs  deep  in  his  neck,  Tristan  could  only  lay  still.
One  foreign  yet  incredible  feeling  after  another  careened
throughout  his  body  and  skull.  Red  pinpoints  popped  like
carbonation bubbles in his vision.

His partner’s rhythmic thrusting tossed Tristan over the

edge.  His  passage  burned,  and  he  welcomed  it.  The  orgasm
crashed  through  him  like  hurricane  waves,  and  he  came
hard,  cock  throbbing,  body  arching,  shouts  of  ecstasy
muffled in the pillows and covers.

At that instant, Justice released him and rose up on his

arms, stiffening and tossing his head back. Tristan stared up
at  him.  With  fangs  bared,  Justice’s  grunts  and  snarls
sounded  both  awe-inspiring  and  erotic.  Tristan  sensed  his
partner’s cock stiffening further, his thrumming shaft giving
him  only  a  split  second  before  he  felt  his  lover’s  hot,  slick

seed coating his inner walls. Justice thrust again, hard. Then
again  and  again,  the  sudden,  furious  movements  urged  one
more  moment  of  release  through  Tristan,  his  cock  trickling
more  liquid.  He  sighed  and  raised  his  hips  to  give  better
access.

A hiss erupted from Justice. He thrust so hard he banged

Tristan’s head against the bars, but Tristan held him tightly,
refusing to release his love until he was spent.

Justice rolled away and spooned Tristan. No words were

needed. Tristan smiled to himself. The intensity and raw
passion between them had never needed pillow talk. Up and

down, Justice stroked his fingers over Tristan’s hip.

Fangs for Christmas

As much as he loved Justice, and despite the fact his lover

had turned him, Tristan couldn’t put him in danger. The
Brotherhood had to be stopped, and somewhere there must

be  an  organization  or  coup  bent  on  overthrowing  the
conducătors.  He  sensed  their  assailants  out  there  in  the
blinding snow, and if he pushed his mind further, he picked
up  on  those  who  were  willing  participants  and  those  who
wanted to live their lives peacefully hunting and feeding, but

that’s all he could ascertain.

An idea formed. He’d track down his father’s old pal,

Rockwell  “Rocky”  Poverich,  a  bookie  and  private
investigator.  He  thought  back  on  the  times  his  dad  had
visited  the  man.  It  always  seemed  like  Rocky  had  weird,
esoteric  connections.  Tristan  had  to  do  something  to  keep

Justice safe, and if anyone in the human world knew about
the conducătors and how to avoid or fight them, it would be
Rocky.

* * * *

They spent the night making love and then slept most of

the day. He lay behind Justice, whose hand stayed in its
possessive spot over Tristan’s hip. Tristan had really made
him work during their last half hour of fucking. Now, like he

had hoped, his vampire lay snoring softly.

He craned his neck and looked at the digital clock on the

stand.  He  had  a  little  over  an  hour  before  sunset  when
Justice  would  awaken—or  so  he  hoped.  His  mate  had  more
stamina  than  he  remembered,  but  he  figured  his  vampire
side was the reason for that.

Careful not to wake him, he slipped from the bed and

padded over to the window. He didn’t move the curtains but
peered  through  a  crack.  Snow  still  fell,  the  sky  dark  and
angry.  At  least  he  could  move  about  during  the  last  bit  of
daytime  without  worrying  he’d  become  a  Roman  candle.

Satisfied, he put on his clothes and shrugged into his coat.

Fangs for Christmas

Once dressed, he removed the Dodge’s keys from Justice’s
duster pocket and placed them on the dresser top. He
reached for the doorknob and stopped.

Something pulled at him, something powerful and steely.
Tristan glanced around the room. Unsure how to use his

vampire powers, he attempted to locate the source of the
sensation, but his attention kept landing on Justice still
sleeping under the covers.

He let his gaze wander over the ceramic Christmas tree

on the table and over to the dresser with the holiday swag
hanging over it. Again, his attention shifted back to his
partner.

Justice.
He suddenly recalled all the myths about vampires.

Apparently, the connection to the vamp who made him was
true.

This was going to be fucking difficult. The pull to Justice

took every bit of his concentration to ignore it.

And he’d have to be extra careful not to let his mental

guard down. If Justice zeroed in on his whereabouts, he’d
make a beeline to him.

He drew in a deep breath and focused instead on his

hunger. The trick worked, and he opened the door, quickly
exiting so the cold or the wind didn’t rouse his lover. He

closed the door and stood assessing the weather. Thankfully,
the plows had gotten ahead of the snowfall; it appeared the
trucks  had  gone  through  recently,  too.  Cinders  dusted  the
scraped  snow  paths.  At  the  corner  of  the  motel  sat  a  snow-
covered pickup. Although a much older model with the lock-
in  hubs,  it  would  still  navigate  the  bad  roads,  providing  he

could get it started. He’d make good progress in the four-
wheel-drive before Justice awakened and found him gone.

With his mind made up, he crossed the small parking lot

to the rusty pickup. The idea of stealing the truck bothered
him, but his only other choices were remaining with Justice

and increasing the danger for his mate or walking in the

Fangs for Christmas

bitter temperatures and heavy snowfall. Snorting, he shook
his head. The idea of being discovered in a snowdrift during
the spring thaw didn’t appeal to him.

He climbed behind the wheel, remembering that warm

May  night  when  his  best  friend  Todd,  whose  dad  was  a
mechanic,  had  showed  him  how  to  hotwire  a  vehicle.
However, when they were caught an hour later, joyriding in
the  rich  section  of  town,  it  also  taught  him  stealing  wasn’t

worth  the  grief.  His  summer  vacation  had  been  spent  in
juvie,  followed  by  a  year’s  probation—not  to  mention  his
father had grounded him for six weeks. The thought of three
stolen cars in one night made him pause. If tied to any of the
thefts,  he’d  spend  time  behind  bars.  Briefly,  he  wondered
how  a  vampire  would  fare  in  prison.  He  shook  off  the

disturbing notion.

At least this truck was old enough that he had no trouble

finding and connecting the proper wires. With his conscience
prickling, he started the engine. He let it warm up for a few
minutes as he swept the heavy, wet precipitation off the

windshield and hood as best as he could. The entire time, he
kept shooting glances toward their room’s door. To keep
from mentally awakening his mate, he focused on his
hunger. Once he reached the next town, he’d have to find a
stray animal or even a homeless person to sate his need for

plasma.

Finally, he climbed back in the truck, put it in gear, and

let out on the clutch. He exited the lot and turned out on the
road, the engine hesitating as it continued warming up. Once
he’d fed, he’d lock onto the signals hinting at other vampires
who wanted freedom. He had no idea how he could detect

the  free  vampires  while  the  Brotherhood  couldn’t,  but  it
might have something to do with the fact their hideouts were
havens.  Maybe  a  haven  somehow  blocked  their  presence
from  those  who  would  do  them  harm?  He  shook  his  head.
Whatever the reason, he would first find Rocky and pray he

knew someone who could help them, someone who was

Fangs for Christmas

willing to go to war against the Brotherhood.

One worry rose in his mind. Tristan’s father had passed

away about a year after their last visit to see Rockwell. At the

funeral, Rocky had paid his last respects, ruffled Tristan’s
hair as he’d walked by, and exited the viewing parlor. It had
been at least fifteen years since that day.

He uttered a brief prayer that the man was still around

somewhere.

His thoughts returned to Justice. The very thought of him

waking  up  alone  almost  forced  Tristan  to  turn  the  truck
around  and  return  to  his  lover’s  arms.  He  gritted  his  teeth,
fangs  puncturing  his  lower  lip.  The  discomfort  chased  his
weakness  away,  but  did  nothing  to  relieve  the  pain  in  his
heart.  When  Justice  left  him  seven  years  ago,  he’d  had  no

choice but to keep Tristan safe by staying away from him.
Tristan had to do the same thing, at least for now.

Once it was safe to be together, he’d never leave Justice

again.