The wolf backed down the alleyway, clutching Olivia in front of him, a knife to her neck.
“Let her go. It’s me you want,” Daniel tried cautiously. “You okay, Olivia?”
She nodded minutely, but the blade kept her from speaking.
“I think I want to play with this one awhile,” the guy said on a growl. It was his favorite werewolf, Punch. “You had your chance, vampire.”
“Seriously? Because I didn’t leap into your twisted death ring, now you’re going to punish me by hurting an innocent mortal?”
“That sounds about right.”
“You’re an idiot.” Daniel approached but sensed the wolf would pull the blade across Olivia’s neck out of spite, so he had to play this right. “You’ll get more enjoyment out of starving me and feeding me to another hungry vampire.”
Olivia’s eyes widened. So his life was dark and fucked up. Did she really want him? Because if she did, he was ready, willing and able.
“Let her go.” Daniel started backing down the sidewalk, hoping the wolf would see who was the better snatch. “And I swear you got me. Dude, you know you’re stronger than me. Come on. Catch me if you can.” He splayed out his arms in surrender.
With a hungry growl, the wolf shoved Olivia against the wall below the iron stairway and charged after him.
Daniel took off in a run, hoping to lure the wolf as far from Olivia as possible. “You don’t follow!” he called to her. “Go inside and lock your doors!”
“Or the big bad wolf will eat you,” his pursuer said as he leaped and landed on Daniel’s back.
They went down in a snowbank plowed up at the edge of a small city garden lot. Daniel felt the icy scrape of the knife over his hand, but it didn’t feel as if the wolf wielded it. Instead, it must have fallen from his grip. He grasped the handle and groaned as the impact of a fist pummeled his gut.
The knife slid down the snowbank and the werewolf began to choke Daniel. He couldn’t go down now that he had the perfect reason to survive. An angel had looked into his soul and proclaimed it worthy of her love.
God, he loved her.
And then he remembered he had one weapon yet to hand, but it was a long shot. Reaching in his pocket, he palmed the snowflake ornament, then dragged it roughly across the wolf’s neck. Blood spotted his chin and the wolf grabbed his throat.
Daniel scrambled to stand and step away as the wolf staggered and fell to his knees, gagging on its blood.
“You’re lucky that wasn’t real silver,” he muttered. If silver entered the wolf’s bloodstream, it wouldn’t take long for a grisly death. “I’ll defend her to my death—or yours, if it comes to that.”
The werewolf met his eyes with bright gold irises. “You’re wasting your time on a mortal,” he growled, then choked up blood. “Especially that one.” The wolf collapsed upon the snowbank.
Wincing, Daniel stepped away. Especially that one. No, it wasn’t a waste of time. Couldn’t be. He wouldn’t allow it to be. Any second he got to spend in Olivia’s arms was one less second he stood alone.
Daniel clutched his chest and someone grabbed him from behind. Olivia’s hopeful green eyes connected to his. “Come with me,” she said, and he grabbed her hand and rushed down the street. A limo waited at the curb, and she opened the back door. “No questions asked from this moment forward. We leave our strange Christmas normal behind,” she said. “If you want to be my monster lover, then come with me.”
Every fiber in Daniel’s soul felt Olivia’s bright star touch it, and he dived into the back of the limo and drew her in beside him.
He kissed her deeply. “To monster love,” he whispered. “We can do this.”
“Of course we can. But can we make a stop before going to my other place?”
“Where?”
She tugged out a set of keys from her pocket. “I think I know a family who could use my apartment until their mother can find a job.”
“Did I tell you I love you?”
“You did. Merry Christmas, my monster lover.”
WHEN HERALD ANGELS SING
To my mother, Carmen Piñeiro,
who always believed that anything was possible
as long as you reached for it with all your heart.
CHAPTER ONE
Jersey Shore, December 23, 1931
THE GALE-DRIVEN SNOW lashed at his skin, tearing into his flesh like stinging nettles, but Damien did not budge from his position high atop the lighthouse tower. Even when the nor’easter threatened to rip him