Nefarious: Christmas Edition

Part IV The Protector Samuel Quartermaine

I was finished with my tea. I loved her so much but I knew she still didn't trust a good thing, not after what he'd done. And I knew he was still out there, waiting to take her from me, and me from her. We were finally alone now and I was free to make as many dirty jokes as I liked.

"So, that's my story. I told you, it's only a 4."

"No, no. I would definitely rank that an 8. It's one of your better ones," she laughed. I loved to make her laugh. The sound of it was a hammer against the strings of my heart. I held her gaze, leaned in to kiss her and the electricity coursed through me. The scent of her skin made my reasoning hazy. I longed to have her.

"Samuel?"

"Yes?" I kissed her collarbone, and felt her heart skip a beat beneath my hungry lips.

"Can we go upstairs?"

I froze. I thought I might die. I almost knocked my mug off the table when I stood. She wasn't any more graceful. We rushed out of the kitchen, and passed the entry to the parlor. Mrs. Ewee called to us as we grinned like idiots.

"Samuel, could you please help me with -- "

"No!" I said and Elyse put a hand against her mouth to stifle her laughter. We bounded up the stairs to her room, and I threw the door open. She closed it gently and leaned against it, a coy smile on her lips. I reached out to touch her, afraid she would disappear, my hand against the back of her head and my fingers digging into her hair. I pulled her to me and kissed her deeply.

"I could kiss you for hours," she sighed between her lips meeting mine. We fell onto the bed, and she was finally mine. But the sound of shattering glass, an icy gust of wind and a loud thud that made the house shook was our undoing. Coitus interruptus!

I pulled the blanket over her and stood. The curtains whipped in the wind from a jagged hole in the window pane. I went to the center of the room and glass crunched beneath my feet. In the faint glow of the streetlamp, something shiny caught my eye. A ribbon? Yes, tied to a brick. I brushed off the shards of glass and realized there was a note attached. Faint laughter from the street drifted into the room. It was unnerving. It didn't sound like mischievous teens, or a drunkard-It was otherworldly. I shivered, pulled the note from under the ribbon and unfolded it. In the dim light the words were difficult to discern but unmistakable.

"Merry Christmas."