A Very Levet Christmas (Guardians of Eternity)

The frozen air instantly prickled with the heat of Salvatore’s wolf. Styx was the only demon in the world powerful enough to match Salvatore in a head-to-head battle.


“Prey?”

Styx gave a sudden laugh, dispelling the tension. “Tell me what’s got you jumping at shadows.”

Salvatore made a sound of impatience, knowing the vamp wasn’t going to stop pushing until he had the truth.

Intrusive bastard.

“I don’t know. It feels as if . . .” Salvatore shivered, but it had nothing to do with the icy breeze. He’d never before experienced such a creeping sense of doom. “Cristo. Perhaps I’m losing my mind.”

“Possible.” Styx gave a lift of his shoulder. “You are well past your prime.”

“At least I was born after fire was invented,” Salvatore shot back, but his heart wasn’t in the insult.

Instead his gaze moved toward the south, the hair on the nape of his neck standing on end.

Styx instinctively reached to grasp his sword. “You sense a threat?”

“Sì.” Salvatore gave a shake of his head. “But I don’t know who or where it’s coming from.”

“A premonition?”

Salvatore grimaced. “Whatever it is, it’s getting closer.”





Levet tried to peer through the black mist that continued to swirl around them.

He had a vague impression of a clearing in the middle of a thick ring of trees, but beyond a coating of snow that covered the ground and a hint of shadowed forms that might be people, it was impossible to determine a precise location.

Something that clearly annoyed his companion.

“Where have you brought us now?” Damon snarled.

Levet sent the Were an impatient glare. Really, he was one of the most ungrateful creatures that Levet had ever tried to help. And that was saying something considering he’d had to deal with both Styx and Salvatore over the past year.

“I don’t have any idea,” Levet said, his tail twitching with displeasure. This was Christmas Eve. He should be tucked in front of a warm fire with a cup of hot chocolate and a pretty demon on his lap. Instead he was stuck with an ill-tempered Were who had no sense of appreciation. “This is your past, not mine.”

Damon scowled. “I’ve never been here.”

“You are certain?”

“Of course I’m certain,” he snapped, his gaze barely flicking toward the misty surroundings before returning to stab Levet with a suspicious glare. “Your little wand clearly failed to produce the illusion you wanted.”

Levet wondered if the Were had been struck on the head.

He clearly had an inability to remember simple conversations.

“How many times must I tell you that the wand does not belong to me?” Levet said in slow tones. Perhaps the wolf was a bit dim-witted. “It is the property of the Christmas angel.”

“Ah, yes, the mythical Christmas angel.” Without warning, Damon reached over his shoulder to grasp the hilt of his sword, pulling it from the sheath and pointing it directly in Levet’s face.

Levet’s eyes crossed as he warily studied the tip of the sword that nearly touched his snout.

It looked big and sharp and far too close for comfort.

“What are you doing?” he squeaked.

A cold smile twisted the Were’s lips. “You were tactically smart enough to keep me distracted with visions from my past, but I’m done with your evil magic.”

Evil? Levet sucked in a shocked breath.

Had the demented fur-ball called him evil?

“My magic is not evil. It is a powerful force for good,” Levet protested, his wings twitching with outrage. Really, some demons. “I am like Batman. Only cuter.”

Damon gave a low growl, his eyes glowing. “Who sent you? Was it Salvatore?”

Levet scowled in confusion. “Are you a nutty-bar? I am a gargoyle. Why would I take orders from the King of Mutts?”

“Who else could it be?”

“I told you—”

The sword actually touched the end of Levet’s snout. “You say the words ‘Christmas angel’ one more time, and I’ll chop off your head.”

Levet considered the pleasure of lobbing a spell at the oversized mutt. The aggravating wolf would perhaps have a few more manners after Levet had turned him into toadstool.

Unfortunately, Levet couldn’t risk using his magic when they were already in the clutches of the Christmas angel’s spell.

Bad things happened when magic smashed into magic.

Instead, he could only give a resigned sniff and point out the obvious.

“How could Salvatore have known you were coming?”

Damon frowned, clearly unable to answer Levet’s question.

“Gia?” he at last muttered.

Levet clicked his tongue. “You do not believe she would betray you.”

“No.” Damon grimaced, giving a regretful shake of his head. “She would never betray me. But someone did.” He allowed his wolf to glow in his eyes. “Tell me.”

“Sacrebleu. I have.”

“The truth.”