A Very Levet Christmas (Guardians of Eternity)

“What about the medallion?” he forced himself to ask.

“I had it properly disposed of,” she assured him, stepping closer to wrap him in the scent of freshly baked bread.

Levet’s mouth watered. And not with hunger.

“Wait.” He glanced around the room that looked as if it’d been painted by Norman Rockwell. Was there not some human saying about “if it seems too good to be true . . .”

“Was any of this real?”

A shadow briefly darkened Sera’s eyes. “All too real.”

“Damon truly would have released the power of a demon lord?”

She nodded, her wings looking like silver lace in the glow from the fire. “Yes.”

A belated fear inched down Levet’s spine. He didn’t truly want to consider how close they’d come to utter disaster.

Instead, he concentrated on the question that had been nagging at him since he’d first stumbled across this mysterious female.

“And me?”

She stepped so close he could feel the heat of her slender body, her hands reaching up to lightly stroke his horns.

“What about you?”

Oh. Levet trembled beneath the light caress of her fingers.

That was . . . lovely.

He struggled to think past the sensual haze filling his mind. “It was no accident that I was the one you asked to play the role of Christmas angel, was it?”

A secretive smile touched her lips. “Perhaps not.”

“Why?”

She hesitated before at last revealing the truth of why he’d been chosen.

“Because the Were was not the only one who needed a kick in the ass,” she admitted softly.

“Hey.” Levet gave a sniff, trying to conjure the proper outrage despite the fact that he was melting beneath her skilled hands. “My derriere has no need of kicking. It is exquisite.” He gave a twist of his waist so she could see the well-toned backside. “Voilà. Buns of steel.”

Her smile widened. “True, but you doubted your self-worth,” she pointed out. “I merely offered you the opportunity to prove that you are indeed a hero.”

Levet blinked in confusion. “How did you know?”

Another stroke of his horns. “I have my ways.”

“Can you read my mind?”

She gave a small pout. “Not your mind. It’s more your . . .”

“Oui?”

“Your heart.”

Levet considered her words. It was true that he’d been questioning his place in the world, and perhaps indulging in a bit of self-pity.

But still . . .

Being turned into a Christmas angel seemed rather extreme.

“Am I supposed to thank you?” he muttered.

Her clever, clever fingers drifted down the back of his head, lingering a moment on his shoulders before finding the acutely sensitive arch of his wings.

“You are still suffering from the wounds of your childhood,” she murmured. “You too easily forget all that you have accomplished.”

“You could have reminded me with a nice card,” Levet muttered, only partially mollified. “Or baked me a cake.”

“True, but males tend to need more . . . tangible reminders.” She placed a gentle kiss on his lips. “Besides, I believe you will forgive me once I’ve revealed the second half of your lesson.”

Levet’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. “Second half?” he croaked.

“You thought that you were alone and without friends.” She leaned to the side to speak directly into his ear.

Was it growing hotter in the cabin? Levet shot a quick glance toward the fireplace, making sure that the flames hadn’t spread. Instead he caught sight of the red stocking with white fur at the top that was clearly marked with his name.

Oh . . .

His heart melted.

“I did fear being without my friends on this special night.”

“You are loved, mighty Levet,” she whispered. “And you have no need to be alone.”

Mon Dieu. That sounded promising.

Levet’s tail stiffened.

“You are going to be my friend?” he asked in husky tones.

She placed a teasing kiss at the edge of his mouth. “A friend with benefits.”

“Ooh la la.”





Chapter 7


Levet woke at dusk to find himself dusted with snow. The cabin where he’d spent the past delicious hours had disappeared into thin air.

He wasn’t truly surprised. Sera wasn’t of this world. She was bound to have to return to her own dimension at some point.

Still, it would have been nice if she’d warned him that she was going to leave.

Shaking off the snow, Levet glanced around the trees that circled him, wondering what had awakened him.

Within seconds he realized it was the sound of a male voice calling his name.

“Levet. I can smell you. Where are you, you stony-ass—”

Levet stepped from the trees to glare at the King of Weres, who was standing near a black BMW as he impatiently scanned the empty field.

“Must you screech?” Levet grumbled, grudgingly waddling through the snow to scowl at the unwelcome visitor.

Salvatore arched a dark brow. “A bit too much Christmas cheer?”

Levet’s foul mood was instantly lightened as he recalled his very tangible Christmas cheer.