A Vampire for Christmas - By Michele Hauf Page 0,94

who had persevered even when trapped in a demon’s body. She thought of his sacrifice and his love even as he lay dying in her arms.

I believe, she confirmed to Raphael, driving the rage out of herself.

The song of the Herald Angels grew even more powerful with her admission as did the beating of their feathered appendages against her body. The heavenly wings thrashed wildly, almost painfully. They lifted her up, high off the ground, before suddenly releasing her.

Angelina felt herself falling and reached out for purchase, but there was nothing in the blinding light surrounding her. Her plummet continued, but no fear entered her as she repeated what she knew to be true. As she repeated Raphael’s words.

Believe in the power of love.

The fall continued for long seconds until she landed hard on the ground. Dazed from the impact, which had driven the air from her body, it took her a second to register that she was back in Damien’s parlor room.

Ramirez and his men were gone, but the trunk and a thin layer of ash remained on the marred wooden floor, giving evidence of what had transpired. Damien lay sprawled a few feet away, his life’s blood forming a large pool on the floor beneath him. Too much blood, she thought, but then his hand moved. So slight was the motion that for a second she thought she was imagining it. Then he moved his hand again.

A second later a soft groan came from him and he rolled onto his back, revealing the torn and bloodied front of his shirt, marked with what looked like burns from embers.

Angelina rushed to his side and slipped her hands beneath his shoulders, cradling him close. His body was warm. Humanly warm.

His eyelids flickered open and then snapped wide as he saw her. He reached up and cradled her cheek, seemingly to make sure she was not a dream.

She smiled. “I’m really here, Damien.”

A deep dimple appeared at the right side of his mouth and his eyes glimmered like a sun-silvered sea. But then concern slipped into his features along with puzzlement.

“Ramirez?” he asked and sat up a little more, wincing with pain as he did so.

“Gone to Hell along with his men.” The vision of that was something she would not quickly forget.

Damien laid his hand on the center of his chest, directly above where Ramirez had driven his blade deep. He grimaced as if the spot was still sore and looked down at the cut in his shirt. He opened it to peer down at the skin beneath.

No wound. Not even a scar, Angelina realized. But then another surprise greeted them.

“I feel different,” he said and tried to rise. Weakness made him falter until Angelina slipped beneath his shoulder and helped him to his feet.

Together they walked to a nearby mirror and stood before it. Their dual images stared back, confirming what she had suspected with her first touch of his warm body.

“I’m human again,” Damien said and rubbed a hand along his cheek, sensing mortal heat. Moving his hand quickly back to the spot over his heart where the strong pulse of life had replaced the tepid thrum of the vampire.

“Why?” he asked, facing her. Taking her hands into his and noticing for the first time that she no longer had her wings.

“And you? Are you still my Angel?”

“Always, my love. But I hope you won’t mind that we share this life together before Heaven calls for us,” she replied, a radiant smile on her face. She sensed the difference in herself, as well.

Damien was not the only human on this Christmas Eve.

Damien’s heart raced with the reality of the miracle that had taken place. After so many Christmas Eves of pain and misery, the gift of happiness was now theirs. A gift made possible by selfless sacrifice and love.

He had learned the lesson and made the right choice after all.

With a playful shake of her hand, he said, “Let us share our love this day.”

“And night,” she replied with a sexy grin while a fresh blush of color swept over her cheeks.

“Still my naughty Angel, I see.”

“Forever and always,” she replied and tugged on his hand to lead him back to his bedroom.

She walked ahead of him to his bed and sat on its edge, her hand outstretched with impatient welcome.

He ripped away the torn remnants of his bloodied shirt and quickly shimmied out of his shoes and pants. Blood beat through his body, the pulse throbbing in