Stocking Stuffer: Ice Maiden Read online

  Stocking Stuffer: Ice Maiden

  Alecia Monaco

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright ©2006 Alecia Monaco

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  ISBN (10) 1-59596-545-9

  ISBN (13) 978-1-59596-545-5

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  Publisher:

  Changeling Press LLC

  PO Box 1046

  Martinsburg, WV 25402-1046

  www.ChangelingPress.com

  Editor: Crystal Esau

  Cover Artists: Reneé George and Bryan Keller

  This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  Chapter 1

  Winter solstice wasn’t just the longest night of the year. It was also the loneliest.

  Sebastian Hale stretched his long legs out in front of him as he reclined on the front steps of Crimson Hungers, a blood drinker’s bar in Houston’s rapidly expanding Vampire district -- referred to by bemused locals as Red Square. The sounds of Darlene Love cooing “Marshmallow World” drifted out of the bar, though with his vampiric hearing, he could also hear a lone choirboy warbling a melody in the church a few blocks away.

  He sighed. The holiday season was omnipresent.

  Even in Red Square, some sort of festive décor seemed to grace every window and door. Christmas trees sparkled, red and green, in every window. Jolly old St. Nick and his team of antlered escorts beamed at him from billboards and soda cans. Menorahs cast their candle-lit glow into the dark Houston night, and glittering wreaths of amethyst-hued tinsel acknowledged the Winter Solstice for the followers of St. Germain.

  What did it matter, he reflected, when he was all alone once again?

  “Hey, man.”

  Sebastian looked up to see his friend Rex Fontainebleau, the owner of Crimson Hungers, standing behind him.

  Sebastian felt himself lighting up. Maybe Rex could help him stave off the inevitable loneliness that came with the longest night of the year.

  But his hopes were dashed just as quickly as they’d risen. Rex’s fiancée slipped through the exit door and joined them.

  “Hey, Sebastian.” Katya Stern, also known as the future co-owner of Crimson Hungers, flashed him a smile. “What are you doing, sitting out here in the cold?” She carried a blue and silver gift bag in one hand.

  “Katya…” a teasing note snuck into his voice, “…you must know by now that vamps are all hot blooded.”

  The slayer’s mouth turned up in a sly smile. “You might have a point.”

  “You coming to the party?” Rex wrapped an arm around his fiancée in a gesture that made something in Sebastian’s heart twist.

  “What party?”

  “Jade and Renaldi are having a thing at his new villa on the island,” Katya answered, referring to their mutual friends, a vampire and his wedding planner human wife. “If Jade’s throwing a party, you know it’s going to be good.”

  “Catered, I’m sure.” Sebastian sighed. The last thing he wanted was to be surrounded by a horde of happy couples.

  “I plan to introduce them to the fun of lighting a menorah.” Katya reached inside the gift bag and removed a miniature silver candelabra, replete with nine branches.

  “And gambling.” With a mischievous grin, Rex reached inside the pocket of his leather jacket and pulled out a blue and gold dreidel.

  Katya punched Rex on the shoulder. “I never should’ve taught you that game.” She turned back to Sebastian. “Do you want a ride down to the island? We’d planned to take the Harley, but if you need a ride, we could take the truck…”

  “No, I’ll catch up with you guys later.” He had no intention of letting them know that he planned to spend the night alone. “Have a great time.”

  “Happy Solstice, buddy.” Rex tipped his black Stetson.

  “You, too.” Sebastian forced himself to smile. “And happy Hanukkah, Katya.”

  “See you at the party.” She threw him a smile over her shoulder before she and Rex disappeared around the corner, hand in hand.

  Maybe he was just being silly. After all, there were sure to be some other singles at Jade and Renaldi’s party. Vampires, especially the followers of St. Germain, considered the Solstice to be an occasion for gathering together and merrymaking. It was likely any number of female vamps as well as human hotties would show up at Renaldi’s villa before the long night was out. He could go and take his chances on meeting someone.

  Or he could end up sitting in a corner by himself, nursing a bottle of synthetic blood and wondering why he felt so lonely in a room full of people.

  Sebastian closed his eyes and let out a tense breath. If he could hold out until January first, the entire torturous season of Rudolph and snowmen and gelt and Yule logs would be over. Everyone would wake up with a hangover or two neat little bite marks on the neck, and life would return to business as usual.

  Not that business as usual was much better.

  How long had it been since he’d felt anything but lonely?

  “My lord?”

  The vaguely European accent and pseudo-feudal linguistics could only mean one thing. Sebastian pried open a wary eye and confirmed his suspicions.

  “Veronica.” His gaze shot from the tall, willowy blond vampire to her double standing mere inches away. “And Malice.” Oh, joy. The Houston vampire community’s version of the Swedish Bikini Team… minus the brainpower.

  “We are wondering,” Veronica continued, “if you plan to make it snow for us at midnight.”

  Sebastian stifled a groan. “Who said anything about me making it snow?”

  Veronica’s eyes narrowed. “You do have the power to conjure ice, no?” Malice nodded her platinum blond head in mute support.

  Well, there was no getting around that one. “Yes,” he admitted reluctantly, “ice is the element under my control.” As a master vampire, he had the ability to conjure any facet of his element at will, which meant that he could provide a brief but magical holiday snowfall in sub-tropical Houston.

  “And did you not make it snow last Solstice at midnight, my lord?” Veronica made an elaborate curtsey as she spoke his title.

  Why the Vampire Court persisted with this medieval nonsense was beyond him. “I did, yes.”

  The two blonds exchanged significant looks. “We would humbly request that you do the same this year as well.” Veronica drew herself up, smoothing down the skirts of her red velvet gown. Malice once again nodded.

  Damn, all those two needed was another mute blond and they’d be a prettier version of Larry, Darryl, and Darryl.

  “Think of the children,” Veronica implored, her glossy lips forming a pout. “They’ll be so disappointed if it doesn’t snow.”

  Sebastian snorted. “Yes, all the baby bloodsuckers running around Red Square will be crushed if they don’t see some Solstice snow before retiring to their coffins at dawn.”

  Fire shot from Malice’s eyes, and Veronica’s brows knit into something of an elegant sneer. “Perhaps we have no actual children among our kind, but many
of us are still young at heart.”

  Sweet Mother of St. Germain. He may as well agree to it, or those two would conjure Bing Crosby from beyond the grave so he could sing a persuasive verse or two of “White Christmas.”

  “All right, all right, you can count on snow at midnight.” Sebastian rose up to his full height of six foot three and looked down at the two female vamps.

  They curtsied in unison. “Thank you, my lord.” Veronica’s eyes gleamed with triumph. “We will take our leave now.” She turned to go back into the bar with Malice following in her footsteps. “An ice sculpture might be nice,” she called back to him before darting inside Crimson Hungers.

  An ice sculpture. Sweet fancy Dracula, what was he, Santa Claus?

  Of course, he had the ability to create ice sculptures. He’d done it countless times. Ice formed beneath his hand and took the shape of whatever image he desired, down to the smallest detail.

  “Maybe I should’ve made myself an ice maiden to take to the party,” he chortled to himself as he turned to go inside. “She couldn’t have been any colder than my last date.”

  Shaking his head, he trudged back indoors.

  Chapter 2

  Even the music seemed to conspire against him. Sebastian groaned as the sound of the Eagles singing “Please Come Home for Christmas” droned from the sound system.

  The dance floor was filled with couples waiting out the long night under Crimson Hunger’s mirrored disco ball. He shook his head. Even a shot of Vlad’s eggnog couldn’t keep him in the bar.

  He wandered into one of the many VIP rooms Rex had created in the back of the bar area. It was a small room, but comfortably furnished with an intercom connecting to the bartender, a phone, and a plasma television.

  Sebastian picked up the sleek black remote control from the cherry wood coffee table and sat down on the plush red sofa. He took a minute to scan the walls, which were covered with posters of movie vampires, from Nosferatu all the way through Brad Pitt and beyond.

  Mortal women seemed to love the undead… until they found one standing in front of them. Either that or they were blood dolls, bored humans looking to get bitten for a thrill.

  Sebastian switched on the television. He’d had his share of biting for thrills. If that was all he had to look forward to with humans, he’d stick to synthetic blood for the rest of his eternity.

  The satellite carried all of the vampire channels, including news on VNN and entertainment on the V! network. He flipped through the stations like an angry teenage boy with a first-person shooter game.

  VNN. A vampire newscaster chirped away about Solstice celebrations in the worldwide vampire community, complete with footage of vampire revelers in Times Square. The prerequisite idiot, cell phone poised at his ear, yelled, “Hi Mom!” into the camera.

  He switched to the next channel. Vampire reality show, Pimp My Coffin, on V!

  Not his cup of blood.

  VCE, Vampire Choice Entertainment. The nightly soap opera, Endless Eternity, was on. A vampiric dead ringer for Susan Lucci accused her mortal swan of getting a human pregnant. Sebastian yawned and switched the television off. He wasn’t a soap fan, but damned if the title of that one didn’t seem appropriate.

  Where did that leave him? He’d heard about an all-night open house at Undead Threads, but he didn’t feel like watching humans nibble tiny cubes of cheese while he sipped blood from a plastic champagne glass and attempted to make awkward conversation.

  There was Black Pearl, but he’d never been into the BDSM scene. Bloodbath and the other House Minotaur establishments weren’t exactly welcoming to members of House Dark Rose, like himself, much less followers of St. Germain. The other haunts in Red Square would all be closing for private parties if they hadn’t already, and he didn’t feel like heading down to the island.

  He could go back to the Hotel Ruthven where he rented a sealed room as his daytime retreat. Even though the hotel catered specifically to vampires seeking shelter during the day, it was also a comfortable room for his waking hours, with a conventional bed as well as a coffin, a mini bar, and an elegant bathroom. His salary as Master of Arms for the Court allowed him to rent one of their finer rooms, and he usually appreciated having a private place to go when he wanted to escape. But suddenly, it seemed like a prison.

  He sighed. There was really only one thing to do… go make the damned ice sculpture and get it over with. Then he could knock back a few Vlad’s and refuel his energy for conjuring snow.

  Happy Solstice, indeed.

  * * *

  Sebastian stepped out of Crimson Hungers, reasoning that the ice sculpture would be best displayed right in front of the bar. Making sure that he had ample space for his creation to grow, he closed his eyes and centered his energy.

  Extending his right hand, palm up, he focused on his element. A cool mist formed above his hand, swirling into an ever tighter circle like the eye of a hurricane. The wisps and strands of mist wove themselves together into a tight white ball of glowing energy.

  It rotated faster and faster, radiating cold as it rose slowly from his palm. Shards of ice flew from it in every direction, waiting for him to impose form upon them with his mind.

  He chuckled to himself, remembering his earlier comment about making himself an ice maiden for a date. The image of a beautiful woman took shape on his mental screen, growing in detail with each passing second.

  The ice obeyed his command, coming together like iron shavings being drawn to a magnet. He pushed his focus, channeling all his energy into the sculpture, feeling his power rushing from him like an electric current.

  The sound of ice hitting the pavement roused him from his trance. He opened his eyes and beheld his creation.

  She was a work of art. He took an unsteady breath and stepped toward her. Standing about five foot six, she was complete down to the most exquisite detail. Her gorgeous face looked back at him with an intelligent, almost searching, expression.

  Windblown hair framed her face, and her curvy form was draped in a simple frosted gown that preserved her modesty while hinting at the beauty beneath it.

  She was easily the most striking sculpture he’d ever created.

  “Well, my frozen beauty.” He reached out to smooth a few shards of ice from her delicate face. “You may not be flesh and blood, but I’m not exactly normal either.” He felt the beginnings of a smile form across his face. “I won’t hold it against you if you don’t hold it against me.”

  He lifted his hand to dust the ice fragments from her hair. How had he managed to make her so stunning? Somehow, this sculpture had surpassed his mental image. He couldn’t recall anything like that ever happening before.

  A stabbing pain interrupted his reverie, and he looked down at his hand. Blood gushed like a ruby river from his palm. He’d been so lost in his thoughts that he’d carelessly stabbed himself on one of the tendrils of her hair.

  But something else was happening, something more than just the blood running down his arm. His blood had splattered onto the sculpture’s head and was seeping into the ice.

  Or was it ice? It had changed, somehow.

  Time seemed to collapse inward on itself. He blinked and the strands of sculpted ice that had made up her hair were suddenly sleek silver, blowing in the breeze.

  Her surface became a silvery pale complexion of living, breathing skin. He could even scent the blood rushing beneath it.

  And before he knew it, a pair of silver eyes met his, looking deeply into them as if they’d known each other in another lifetime, countless lifetimes, from before the earth was born, since the creation of their very souls.

  “My maker.” She took a step toward him, the last vestige of her former icy shell falling away as she moved. “You have given me life with your blood.”

  Sebastian’s heart hammered against his chest like a power tool banging its way through a brick wall. What had he done? He hadn’t meant to give her life. He hadn’t even known he could give life to one of hi
s creations.

  Much less the most beautiful one he’d ever made.

  Suddenly, his Solstice night seemed a lot less boring.

  Chapter 3

  Silver looked about with wide, newborn eyes to behold the world unfolding around her. Beneath her feet lay cold gray pavement. Above her was a dark sky filled with too much ambient light to reveal any stars.

  In front of her was the man who’d pulled her soul randomly from the eternal ether and given her life.

  The life of his own blood.

  “You…” She cleared her throat, surprised at the sound of her own voice. “You brought me to life.”

  The handsome male stared at her through eyes the color of an evergreen. “I’m not sure if I should apologize or not.”

  A laugh bubbled forth from her lips, catching her off guard. “No, you have nothing to be sorry about.” A thought zipped through her mind. “Unless you regret making me.” The idea horrified her. She had no desire but to please her maker in every possible way.

  He came closer, the wind lifting strands of his wavy blond hair. He walked with the barely leashed power of a stalking panther, every muscle of his body moving with fluid grace.

  A shiver rolled over Silver’s body. Somehow, he’d given her a large measure of his own knowledge when he’d brought her to life. She wasn’t sure how she knew her name or how to speak his language, but she did.

  Just as she knew she wanted him.

  “How could I regret the most beautiful creature my mind could ever have conjured?” He reached up to stroke her cheek. She put her hand over his and leaned into his touch.

  “Where did you come from?” He stared into her eyes, this still nameless being who stirred her flesh from icy to burning. “You speak perfectly.”

  “I was a loose soul, floating in the whirlwind.” She gasped when his thumb raked her bottom lip. “Between incarnations, maybe? The next thing I know, your blood is seeping through a sheet of ice, and I’m waking up to this world we’re in.”