The Bite Before Christmas (3 page)

“Yes, he does, dear. He's the police chief in Port Henry, a nice little town where your uncle Victor now lives with his Elvi. Many people know about us there. You can let him know what you are. He won't be horrified.”

“How much does he know exactly?” Katricia asked. “I mean, does he know about life mates and such?”

Marguerite hesitated briefly, and Katricia was sure she was about to say no, but instead, her aunt said, “Well . . . yes, he does know about that, dear. However, it might be a good idea if you don't blurt out that you can't read him until he's gotten a chance to get to know you a little better.”

“What?” Katricia asked with alarm and then almost whined, “But why?”

Marguerite chuckled softly. “I know it's tempting to just tell him that he's your life mate and so on right away, but—”

“Is he?” Katricia interrupted eagerly.

“Is he what? Your life mate?” Marguerite asked with surprise. “I thought you said you couldn't read him?”

“Well, I can't, but sometimes mortals can't be read because—”

“Teddy is very readable,” Marguerite interrupted soothingly. “In fact, you're the first immortal I have heard of who can't read him. Even Elvi and Mabel are beginning to be able to read him and they're still quite new to this business.”

“Oh,” Katricia breathed and bit her lip. “But then why shouldn't I tell him—”

“He's mortal, dear,” Marguerite interrupted gently. “It might be a little much for him to handle so soon. Just let him get to know you a little better first, maybe. You don't want him jumping in his truck and heading back to Port Henry in a panic.”

“He can't,” Katricia assured her and then quickly explained about the tree blocking the road and the power outage.

“Oh dear,” Marguerite breathed when she finished. “I'll call Lucian and have him send some men to clear the road and—”

“Oh, no, don't do that,” Katricia said at once. “If the road's cleared he might leave. Besides, right now I'm staying at his cottage and sharing Decker's food with him. If you clear the road—”

“There won't be any need for you to both be at his cottage,” Marguerite finished for her with understanding and then paused briefly before asking, “So you have heat and food?”

“Yes.”

“I suppose there's no real urgency to clear the road and get the power back on, then,” Marguerite murmured. “But call at once if the situation changes and you need things fixed quickly.”

“I will.”

“I'll call Bastien about the blood delivery though,” Marguerite went on. “They can bring it in by snowmobile. Perhaps they can even arrange for a snowmobile to be brought for the two of you to use. That way you can still share the cottage but also get out to get provisions if you need them, or even just get out for a meal so you don't get cabin fever.”

“That would be nice,” Katricia said, a smile curving her lips as she imagined Teddy sitting behind her on a snowmobile, his arms wrapped around her as they roared off into town for groceries or dinner. Or even herself on the back, holding on to him as he drove them back. In her experience, men tended to prefer to drive and she was willing to share . . . especially if it meant getting to ride with her arms around him and her chest pressed to his back and—

Dear God, I'm pathetic, Katricia thought with a shake of the head. “Are you sure I can't just tell him? He might be all right with it if he knew.”

“He might,” Marguerite agreed uncertainly. “I just think it's better to err on the side of caution. This life-mate business is such a delicate thing. I'm just suggesting you maybe wait a day or two. Right now you're a stranger to him, dear.”

“Yeah,” Katricia agreed on a sigh, her gaze moving to Teddy out by the truck.

“I'll suggest Bastien have the blood courier bring food, too,” Marguerite said suddenly. “And more blankets and— It might take a while to get everything together, Katricia. Are you okay for blood if it doesn't show until tomorrow morning or later?”

“Yeah, I'm good,” Katricia assured her. “I can go two or three days without if I have to. Twenty-four hours is nothing.”

“All right then, leave it to me. I'll take care of everything.”

Three

T
eddy gave up on the lock with an irritated curse. He wasn't getting into the vehicle any time soon unless he wanted to break one of the windows, and he wasn't ready to do that. He might have, if the situation had been a desperate one, but it wasn't. They had heat, food, and shelter. They even had coffee. They could stick it out for a bit.

Sighing, he stepped back from the truck and glanced up toward the road, debating walking up to see if there was any sign of the snow removal men, or if a work crew had arrived to tend to the fallen trees. In the end, he decided against it. It really wasn't very likely. While Marguerite had said the county cleared the road, Teddy suspected this just wasn't likely to be a high-priority street. In fact, it was probably one of the last ones tended to. Which meant it would probably be late today or maybe even tomorrow morning before the road crew would make it out here to clear the road and see the downed power lines. And that meant it would probably be tomorrow or even the day after before someone came to take care of the power problem. But since the day after tomorrow was Christmas Day, it wasn't likely to get taken care of then, either. They could be stuck here until Boxing Day without power. That meant chicken soup, or even tomato soup for Christmas dinner, he thought with a grimace.

“Merry Christmas,” he muttered to himself, turning to walk back toward the deck. He was mounting the stairs before it occurred to him that the water might be boiling by now. He could make an attempt at coffee, Teddy realized. The possibility cheered him and made him move more swiftly.

The cottage was noticeably warmer when he finished removing his boots in the mudroom and stepped inside. It was even warm enough that Teddy thought he could remove his coat this time along with his hat and scarf. He started to do so but paused when he saw that Katricia had already removed her own . . . as well as the bottoms to her ski suit, he noted as his gaze landed on her where she stood bent over in front of the fireplace, stirring the soup. She was now wearing a baby-blue sweater and a pair of what almost looked like leotards the pants were so thin and molded to her skin. She may as well have been nude, but as tightly as the cloth hugged her, there wasn't a panty line to be seen. She couldn't be wearing anything under them, he realized, his eyes moving over the curves with fascination. Honest to God, he wouldn't have been surprised to hear that she wasn't wearing anything at all and that her skin was just airbrushed the dark blue of the leotards. Damn, she had the shapeliest little ass and legs he'd seen in a long time.

“The water's boiling, but I wasn't sure if I should pour it in that thing you set up or wait for you to come back in first. Should I do it now?”

Teddy blinked at the question and forced his gaze away from Katricia's tight bottom as she glanced over her shoulder toward him.

“Er . . . no, that's okay, I'll do it,” he muttered, forcing himself to finish removing his jacket. He stuffed his hat and scarf in the pockets and then hung it on the back of one of the chairs at the dining-room table, noting she'd done the same with her ski jacket and pants. It was better than hanging them back up in the mudroom where they'd be unpleasantly cold to don. Speaking of which, he decided he should find a towel, set it on the kitchen floor by the door, and bring their boots in to thaw. It would be nice not to put his feet in stiff, snow-encrusted boots the next time he went out.

Deciding he'd better do it while he was thinking of it, Teddy nipped quickly into his room to dig out the large bath towel he'd packed. He folded it twice as he carried it back out, then set it on the floor and retrieved both his boots and Katricia's from the mudroom to set them on it.

Aware that the soup was probably boiling, too, Teddy then grabbed both oven mitts off the top of the microwave and moved over to the fire. Katricia straightened and moved aside as he approached, giving him space, and he felt relief slide through him. It seemed he'd been right and now that she saw how old he was, she was going to cut out that silly flirtatious nonsense.

“How long has the soup been boiling?” he asked as he slid the gloves on.

“Several minutes now,” Katricia answered and then, sounding a little awed, murmured, “It smells lovely.”

Teddy glanced at her with surprise. It was just tinned soup, nothing to write home about, he thought, but then smiled wryly, knowing that—like himself—she probably hadn't eaten since yesterday. Truth to tell, tinned soup or not, he was hungry enough that it was smelling good to him, too, he acknowledged as he lifted both pots away from the fire.

Katricia followed when he carried them carefully over to the kitchen area, but stayed to hover over the soup pan when he set it on the stove to cool. Leaving her there, he moved over to slowly pour the water into the filter cone he'd removed from the coffee machine and set on top of the coffee pot.

A little sigh of anticipation slid from his lips as steam rose to mist his face with the aroma of brewing coffee. Teddy had to restrain himself from simply dumping the liquid impatiently into the cone, but anything worth doing was worth doing right. Besides, he wanted good coffee, not muck. He glanced at Katricia. She was leaning over the soup, eyes closed and inhaling the steam rising from it, and it made him smile slightly.

“Why don't you fetch a couple bowls and a ladle and serve it up,” he suggested.

Katricia didn't have to be prompted twice; she was immediately slipping around him to get to the items he'd suggested. By the time he poured the last of the water into the cone, she'd divided the soup between two bowls, found soup spoons for both of them, and then picked them up, but paused to ask, “Do you want to eat at the table or by the fire?”

“By the fire,” Teddy decided as he fetched coffee cups for both of them. While it was warmer in the cottage than it had been, and it had seemed pleasant when he'd first come in from the cold, now that he'd been inside a few minutes, he was aware that it was chillier the farther you got away from the fire.

Leaving Katricia to carry the soup into the living room, Teddy quickly poured them each a coffee, then grabbed spoons, the sugar bowl, and some powdered creamer from the cupboard and followed her. When she pushed the coffee table a little closer to the fire and sat on the carpet on one side of it, he moved around to the other side and set down their coffees and fixings.

“Mmmm.”

Teddy glanced up from fixing his coffee to see that Katricia had neglected the chore to dive right into her soup. He smiled with amusement as she sighed with pleasure at the simple fare. “I'm guessing your mother isn't much of a cook.”

She looked surprised at the suggestion. “Why would you say that?”

“Because if you think a heated-up tin of salty soup with limp noodles in it is moan-worthy, you haven't had good cooking, little girl,” he assured her.

“Hmm.” She tilted her head and then said, “Well, first of all, I'm not a little girl, and second, no one cooks for me. I don't live with my mother and haven't done so for a very, very long time.”

“Hell, two weeks is a very very long time to kids your age,” he said with a laugh and then asked, “So where do you live?”

“New York.”

Teddy blinked at the answer. He'd expected her to say at university or some such thing. New York was an entirely different kettle of fish: the big city, crime central. He wouldn't have let his daughter live there, had he had one. Sitting back, he eyed her more closely. She was athletic in build, with shoulders a little wider than her hips, and a smaller bosom. Teddy generally preferred curvy women. At least, Elvi, the woman he'd loved most of his life, was curvy. Elvi was also a redhead whereas this girl was a fresh-faced blonde, and yet he found her strangely appealing.

Reining in his thoughts, Teddy frowned and turned his gaze down to his soup as he asked, “What do you do there?”

“I'm presently in law enforcement, but I'm considering alternate career choices at the moment.”

Teddy glanced up sharply at this announcement, but she was now peering into her own soup and scooping out a spoonful.

“Law enforcement?” he asked with a surprise that was close to horror. “In New York?”

The thought of this little gal chasing after criminals in the Big Apple was a staggering one. Hell, he wouldn't want to do it himself, and he'd been in law enforcement most of his life and the army before that. Still, with a choice between a war zone or New York, he'd take the war zone. “I'm not surprised you're considering a career change so soon.”

She glanced up, smiling faintly at his expression, and said, “It's not soon . . . I've been in law enforcement for almost a century.”

Teddy froze, a spoonful of soup halfway to his mouth. He lifted narrowed eyes to her face, focusing on it firmly for the first time since meeting her. Before this, he hadn't wanted to make her uncomfortable by staring too hard, but now he did, focusing specifically on her eyes and noting the silver glimmering among the blue. Setting his spoon back in his bowl, he said quietly, “Immortal.”

Tricia nodded solemnly. “My name is Katricia Argeneau. Marguerite is my aunt by marriage.”

Teddy just stared at her, having to readjust every thought in his woolly mind. He'd been thinking of her as a poor, defenseless, young gal snowed in out here in the wilds. Instead, she was an immortal, nowhere near defenseless . . . or young, for that matter, he realized. At least, not if she'd been in law enforcement for almost a century. Which changed everything, of course. His gaze slid down over her upper body in her baby-blue sweater. She looked young, but she wasn't, so he hadn't been lusting after a sweet young thing. Not that he'd been lusting after her, Teddy assured himself quickly, but found himself suddenly fighting the urge to ask if she wanted to see his “gun” now.

Giving his head a shake, he cleared his throat and asked, “By law enforcement, I suppose you mean you're one of those council enforcers? A rogue hunter who works under Lucian?”

She nodded, watching him closely.

Teddy's eyes slid to the soup she'd been gobbling up, and he frowned. Most immortals didn't eat after the first century or two, so she couldn't be over two hundred. Eyes narrowing, he tilted his head to consider her solemnly. “The provisions you were expecting? Not just gas and food?”

“Blood, too,” she admitted quietly.

“Do you have any at all with you?”

Katricia shook her head. “I had a couple bags in the SUV with me, but drank them before retiring after I arrived.”

Teddy pursed his lips at this news and then gestured to her soup. “But you still eat.”

She hesitated, but then simply nodded.

He sat back with a sigh and considered this new wrinkle in the situation. He was snowed in, had scanty provisions and no power, and his companion was a vampire with no blood supplies . . . except him. “So you're telling me this now because . . . what? You need a blood donor?”

“No,” she said with a laugh. “I'm good for now and the blood delivery will show before I need a ‘blood donor,' as you put it.”

“Not with the road the way it is,” he pointed out dryly.

Katricia shrugged, not seeming concerned, and he understood why when she said, “They'll bring it by snowmobile if they can't get through on the road. They won't leave me without.”

Teddy felt himself relax a little at that news, relieved to be off the menu, but then asked, “So why are you telling me now? How did you know I knew about your kind?”

“Aunt Marguerite,” she answered simply. “You mentioned her name and then I recalled that the immortal-friendly town my uncle Victor lives in is called Port Henry.” She shrugged. “Since you knew Aunt Marguerite, I figured you knew.”

Teddy didn't respond at first. He could usually spot a lie a mile off, and Ms. Argeneau was lying . . . about something. The problem was he wasn't sure what she was lying about exactly. What she said seemed reasonable enough, but he had to wonder why she hadn't admitted all of this when he'd first mentioned Marguerite.

“Of course, if you hadn't known, your reaction to my claiming to be in enforcement for a century would have told me and I would have acted like I was joking or something,” she added in a rush as she reached for her coffee.

Teddy narrowed his eyes further as he watched her sip from her mug. The way she was avoiding his eyes and the sudden rush of words just confirmed it in his mind that she was lying. He was about to call her on it, when she wrinkled her nose over the taste of the coffee and set it back with a grimace.

“Ugh. You can't start your day without this stuff?”

“It tastes better with cream and sugar,” he said absently, pushing them both toward her. He was about to ask what exactly she was lying about and why, when he suddenly knew the answer. After his mentioning her aunt, Katricia had probably read his thoughts and learned he knew about their kind. She was lying to keep him from being uncomfortable with her reading his mind.

“Oh, yes, this is much better.”

Teddy glanced to her to find that she'd doctored her coffee with the sugar and creamer and tried it again . . . and apparently enjoyed it this way. She was actually gulping it down eagerly now.

“I'd go slow if I were you,” he cautioned with amusement. “Some immortals can't handle caffeine.”

“They can't?” she asked with surprise.

Teddy shook his head. “Victor does all right on it, and DJ can handle a cup or two, but Alessandro is wired when he drinks it. Starts going ninety like he's on some kind of vampire speed or crack, and then passes out.”

“I know DJ is Uncle Victor's friend, but who is Alessandro?” Katricia asked curiously before downing the rest of her drink.

“Alessandro Cipriano,” Teddy explained. “He's another immortal who lives in Port Henry.”