Flash Fiction - Mistletoe Kisses
Prophecy trudged along the frozen gravel drive, her toes and fingers numb and burning, and her heart as heavy as her eyelids. As if the past month spent fighting demons back so they could temporarily close the gate to Hell in Venturi’s Romanian castle hadn’t been tiring enough, she had told her driver to drop her off at the house of Aurorea on her way back from the airport in Prague.
Valentine hadn’t been home.
She’d had to walk across Prague through inches of freshly fallen snow to reach her own mansion.
Her home stood before her, warm and golden in the frigid winter night, welcoming and soothing some of the ache from her body and her heart.
Where was Valentine?
She wearily nodded her thanks when one of the guards at the entrance of the house pushed the door open for her and held it while she walked through. Warmth curled around her, the smell of log fires and quiet chatter of the vampires moving around the grand vestibule bringing a smile to her lips. A few of the vampires paused to greet her but she didn’t stop walking. If she did, she probably wouldn’t be able to start again. She wasn’t going to stop for anything other than a hot bath and a glass of blood.
Prophecy mounted the elegant staircase to the first floor. More of the tension eased from her bones with each step closer she got to her apartments. She couldn’t wait to sink into a hot bath. Venturi would have to wait for his phone call. He had insisted she contact him as soon as she returned and would be angry with her if she didn’t, but she was certain he would understand when she explained that she had walked across half of Prague in freezing conditions. Perhaps she could phone him from the bath. She would call Valentine too. He knew that she was coming back tonight. It wasn’t like him not to be around when she returned from her trips to Romania. Normally he was there at the airport, checking her over the moment she stepped off the small private jet her bloodline kept, and then kissing the breath from her.
Had something happened to him?
His bloodline, the Aurorea, didn’t seem to think so. Cornelius had simply said that Valentine was out. Out where? Hunting? Her stomach tightened and a growl rolled up her throat. She didn’t like the thought of Valentine hunting. She didn’t want her mate’s fangs in another woman’s throat.
With a snarl, she shoved the panelled wooden door to her rooms open.
Everything went dark.
Magic spun around her right hand, ribbons escaping the amulet she wore and warming her skin as they caressed her.
The scent of male vampire hit her, unfamiliar at first because of her initial burst of panic and then slowly revealing the owner of the hand clamped over her eyes and the hard body pressing against her back.
Valentine.
He lowered his head, his cheek brushing her ear and her throat, and inhaled slowly. “The Devil, I missed you.”
He dropped a soft kiss on the curve of her throat and his other arm snaked across her stomach, holding her against him.
“I missed you too... and I want to see you,” Prophecy said, unable to contain her eagerness to turn in his embrace and look upon the man she loved with all of her heart. She tried to turn but he wouldn’t allow it, his arms tightening around her. “Valentine? What are you up to?”
He chuckled close to her ear. “It is a surprise. When you were away I could not stop thinking about you, and about when we first met. I recalled you mentioning that you had never seen a sunset or a sunrise, and it made me think about all the other things you have never experienced.”
Prophecy frowned. He must have been thinking about her a lot. It warmed her, lightening her insides and making her smile, but also ignited a deep sense of curiosity inside her. There were a million things she had never experienced because she had been born part vampire part witch rather than being a human who had been sired by another vampire.
Before she could ask for a clue, he moved forwards with her, guiding her slowly into her apartments. The familiar smell of it soothed away the last of her weariness. Here in this room, with Valentine’s arms around her, holding her close to him, she was home.
“Do you know what day it is?” Valentine whispered against her cheek, his lips brushing it and thrilling her.
“No.” She didn’t have a clue. Was it special? Someone’s Death Day? No, she had experienced many celebrations for those. A birthday? She had one of those... and they had celebrated it last year.
She heard the door click shut behind her. The scent of log fire and heat swirled around her, combining with the warm smell of Valentine to make her relax into him. He sighed when she leaned her back against his hard chest.
“I believe it is customary to guess,” another male voice said and Prophecy couldn’t contain her grin, or her desire to have Valentine remove his hand so she could see what they had conspired about together without her knowing.
“Venturi, how in the Devil’s good name did you get here before me?” When she had left him in Romania this morning, he had told her that he wouldn’t see her for a few months. The liar. He must have boarded his own bloodline’s private jet shortly after she had taken off.
Had he known that she would go to Valentine’s home straight from the airport and had taken advantage of it to beat her here?
He laughed, the sound warm and intoxicating. She had come to like it whenever he laughed, and loved it when Valentine joined in too.
“Will someone tell me what’s going on?” she said, impatient now. She listened to Venturi moving around the room, tracking him with her senses, and was tempted to pull Valentine’s hand away from her face but resisted the desire. She wanted to be surprised now, and it seemed the blindfold was necessary.
What didn’t they want her to see?
Venturi stepped close to her and his scent was different to what she had expected. It was laced with traces of cinnamon and other delicious smelling spices, and blood. She sniffed.
“Hungry as always,” Valentine murmured into her ear and she shivered as his hand swept across her stomach and he began to undo the buttons on her thick long black coat. “Venturi.”
The scent of spicy blood grew stronger and a warm glass touched her lips.
“Open for me,” Venturi husked and Prophecy moaned, doing as he instructed. Blood trickled into her mouth, sweet and spicy, aromatic. She swallowed and he removed the glass. “You spilled a little.”
She wasn’t surprised. She couldn’t see what she was doing. Technically, he had spilled a little.
Prophecy gasped when his tongue swept over her lip, jolting against Valentine as he undid the last of the coat buttons, and then groaned when Venturi kissed her, their tongues tangling all too briefly before he pulled away.
He tasted like the spicy blood too.
“What was that?” She frowned when a hint of alcohol came through the blood.
“Your clue,” Valentine said and playfully nipped at her throat. Clearly he had been indulging in the blood, alcohol and spice drink they had made too. Not only had he allowed Venturi to kiss her without even the slightest hint of anger coming through the bond they shared as a mated couple, but he was nuzzling her throat and slowly peppering it with kisses that melted her and made it hard to think.
A clue?
Alcohol. Spice. She discounted the blood as that was obviously a vampire addition to the recipe.
Prophecy raised an eyebrow. “Mulled blood?”
Both eyebrows rose and she grinned.
“I think she has it.” Venturi peeled her coat off her shoulders, his deep voice full of amusement.
They hadn’t.
Valentine kissed her cheek and then slowly drew his hand away from her eyes. She immediately opened them and they fell on a huge brightly decorated Christmas tree in the corner of her bedroom. The silver star at the top almost touched the high ceiling and twinkling coloured lights shone amongst the dark branches. Tinsel and baubles, and everything she had ever seen in television adverts, windows of houses in Prague and in the city centre, covered the tree. A shiver danced down her spine.
Valentine came out from behind her to stand beside Venturi, both men watching her closely for her reaction, a hint of male pride on their faces. They had gone to so much effort for her. She knew in her heart that they had bought the tree and decorated it themselves, or at least Valentine had in Venturi’s absence. Something told her Venturi had played his part by supplying the mulled blood.
Prophecy didn’t know what to say. She had never thought either of them would do such a thing for her. Whenever the festive season came around, both made their dislike of it clear to her, picking apart the religious side of it as well as the humans’ need to decorate everything so garishly. That they had put aside their own feelings about the season to do this for her touched her deeply.
Valentine’s green eyes sparkled at her with love, his bowed lips curved into a slight smile. Venturi raised his glass of mulled blood in a salute to her, his blue eyes bright as he grinned. What a pair they made. Both of them hated all things human yet they had put together her own personal Christmas so she could experience it for her first time.
If she had ever desired proof of their love for her, this was it. Neither of them would do something like this for anyone other than her, and it made her smile and heated her through. Her gaze roamed back to the tree and then down to the base. There were bright coloured boxes with huge bows beneath the branches, clustered around the trunk. They couldn’t all be for her. Could they?
She wanted to rush to them and see if they were but looked back at Valentine and Venturi instead. Both men took her breath away.
She hadn’t noticed before, had been too caught up in the tree and looking at the love in their eyes, but they were both topless, their beautiful honed bodies on display, and both sported a scarlet ribbon tied in a bow around their necks.
“Are you for me?” she said with a smile.
“All for you.” Valentine pulled his hand out from behind his back and she frowned at the green leafy bouquet in his fingers, spotted with fat white berries. He approached her slowly, his body shifting sensually with each step, igniting a desire to touch him and setting her blood aflame. He raised the bouquet above him and smiled. “I believe you have to kiss me now.”
She did?
Prophecy had seen the leafy stuff before in shop windows and on doorframes. She didn’t know what it did.
“It is mistletoe. If you are beneath it, you must kiss,” Venturi said and a slow smile spread across her face.
She stepped up to Valentine, placed her hands against his bare chest to steady herself, and tiptoed. He dipped his head, captured her lips with his own, and softly kissed her, stealing her breath and melting her heart. She had missed him so much. She no longer cared about the presents beneath the tree. The best present was here in her arms, kissing her.
He drew back and her gaze slid to Venturi. He sipped his mulled blood. Perhaps there was a present she wanted.
She took the mistletoe from Valentine, her fingers brushing his and eliciting a sigh from him. He nodded his approval when she met his gaze and she crooked a finger at Venturi. He didn’t hesitate. He set his blood down on a side table and prowled across the room to her. Valentine stepped up behind her, slipped his arm around her waist and held her, kissing her shoulder and throat as Venturi reached her. She twirled the mistletoe in her fingers and smiled up into his blue eyes.
Venturi raked his dirty blond overlong hair back, sucked in a sharp breath, and then swooped on her lips. She moaned and closed her eyes, savouring the feel of his mouth on hers. They hadn’t kissed the whole time they had been together in Romania. Without Valentine present to give his permission, they’d had to live with each other without being able to touch or kiss. It had been torture.
The kiss ended too soon but she didn’t mind. She stood wedged between her lover and her mate, enjoying the feel of them against her and the thoughts racing through her mind, images of things to come. She would insist that Venturi stay a while, and that Valentine did too. She wanted to savour her presents and take her time enjoying them.
Starting right now.
Prophecy slipped free of both men, leaving them facing each other, and grinned as she tiptoed and held the mistletoe above them.
They both growled.
“I thought it was tradition?” She didn’t back down. Wouldn’t. Not this time.
Neither man looked as though they were going to do as that tradition dictated, and then Venturi looked at Valentine, drew in several deep breaths as though he was psyching himself up, and grabbed him, placing both of his hands against Valentine’s cheeks. Before Valentine’s growl had even started to leave his mouth, Venturi’s lips were against his, cutting it off.
Prophecy’s eyes widened and her blood turned to liquid fire in her veins.
Devil.
Valentine remained rigid at first, every muscle of his bare torso tensed and taut, radiating anger and danger, and then he swallowed and moved his lips against Venturi’s in the most restrained kiss she had ever seen. Their mouths barely brushed, lips opening and parting, and their eyes slowly closed.
The hottest kiss she had ever seen.
She suddenly realised how either man felt when she kissed the other.
Jealous.
She wanted in on that kiss.
Prophecy tossed the mistletoe aside, threw her arms around both of their necks and pressed her lips against theirs. Valentine instantly broke away, his mouth claiming hers instead, and Venturi nuzzled her neck and nipped at it between heated hungry kisses.
She tangled her fingers in their hair at first and then the bows around their necks, lost in the moment as she surrendered to desire, pouring out her passion into her kiss with Valentine and savouring the feel of Venturi’s lips on her throat.
She couldn’t decide which of her presents to unwrap first.
A wicked smile curved her lips and she used her magic to teleport them all onto the bed.
Her fingers curled in the bows on both men’s necks.
She would just have to unwrap them both at the same time.
Together, they would have themselves a very merry little Christmas.
All twelve days of it.
