A Vampire for Christmas

chapter SEVEN





THE THICK OAK DOOR of the tavern flew open and rebounded against the wall as Ramirez, his first mate and one of his sailors entered. The vampire crewmen flanked their captain’s back as he strutted into the tavern. His waddling gait and aggressive demeanor were painfully familiar.



Aware that danger approached, Damien patted her side, handed her his mug and said, “Why don’t you get me another drink?”



Since his mug was still nearly full, she understood he just wanted her out of the way. Because her role here was not to intrude, as she had last time, a fact the Archangels had reminded her of repeatedly before allowing her to return, she stepped away, hoping that this time Damien would make the right choice.



She walked to the bar and, from the corner of her eye, kept a distant vigil.



Damien turned his back to Ramirez and hunched over his bowl of chowder, clearly attempting to pay no heed to the other vampire. He picked up his spoon and began to eat, ignoring his foe until Ramirez walked right up beside him.



The other men at the table, sensing that there would be trouble, grabbed their plates and mugs and moved away.



“You cheated me, amigo,” Ramirez said, spreading his legs and jamming his hands on his hips. The action brought his hands dangerously close to the weapons on his belt.



“First, I’m not your amigo. Second, I paid you what was agreed upon,” Damien said and then scooped up another spoonful of the chowder. He never once looked at the vampire captain, but instead of appeasing Ramirez it only seemed to incense him.



The vampire captain reached down and with a swing of his arm, sent the plates and cups in front of Damien flying.



Damien finally looked up at the man and his two friends. She prayed for him to act carefully. Prayed for him to appease the other man rather than incite further violence.



Disappointment sank in as Damien replied, “You’ll not get another dime from me.”



I didn’t have the money to return, Angelina heard the Damien of the present mutter and finally understood. He had paid every last cent of what he had made to the grocery store owner.



“Have you forgotten already, mi amigo? I never take no for an answer.” Ramirez leaned close, his pale and pockmarked face barely an inch from Damien’s.



“I guess there’s a first time for everything,” Damien replied, the slow rise of anger apparent in his voice.



“Son of a bitch,” Ramirez growled and grabbed hold of the collar of Damien’s woolen peacoat.



Angelina understood Damien’s burst of pain and anger at the mention of his sainted mother. Much like hate for his father had driven him a century ago, now love for his mother and her memory caused Damien’s violence to erupt.



Before Ramirez could do anything else, Damien was on him, battling the smaller man to get free of his hold. Throwing punch after punch, which finally caused the vampire captain to release him. But instead of stepping away as she hoped, Damien launched himself at Ramirez, tackling him to the ground and pounding his face, overwhelming the other vampire.



Seeing that their captain had lost the upper hand, Ramirez’s two goons jumped into the fray and so did some of the other men in the bar. They knew Damien well, and he had helped them on more than one occasion. But Angelina worried that the men were no match for Ramirez and his vampire crew.



She was not mistaken. One local man after another was flung around the room while Ramirez and Damien continued to fight. The damage to the locals only seemed to cause more violence as the remaining sailors and fishermen joined the fight. The very air grew electric, charged with aggression and hate.



But even with dozens of men engaged in the brawl, they failed to overcome Ramirez and his men, who seemed to delight in the escalation of the violence. While Damien and Ramirez wrestled and beat each other, blood pouring from their mouths and noses, Ramirez’s men decimated the town folk, gouging eyes and slashing razor-sharp nails across the other men as the crewmen watched their captain’s back.



Angelina rushed forward, urging the men she knew away from the quartet fighting in the center of the bar. They had families who needed them and could ill afford to lose a breadwinner. She laid a calming hand on one man after the next, imparting peace to them, urging them away from the fray. Eventually, she’d made her way to Ramirez’s vampire crewmen.



They were large, imposing creatures filled with such malevolence that she could feel it beat against her. But she tried to reach them anyway, hoping for peace before Damien and Ramirez killed one another.



“Please let me pass. There has been enough blood shed tonight,” she urged the vampires.



The one crewman threw his head back and laughed, almost braying like a jackass, but to her surprise the second vampire gave ground. He stepped away, giving her enough space to move toward Damien and Ramirez.



She was no more than a step from them when Ramirez wildly swung his arm around and walloped the middle of her chest.



A sharp gasp escaped her. The distressed sound pierced the violence, bringing a halt to the fight.



Damien’s eyes went wide and he was quickly at her side as her knees weakened and became rubbery. Only then did the pain register.



As he slowly lowered her to the ground, she looked down and saw the hilt of the knife protruding from her body. Felt the warmth drain from all her extremities, leaving behind cold and weakness.



You should not have interfered, Raphael’s voice boomed, chastising her again, much as he had upon her return to Heaven after the failure of her first mission.



I was wrong to do so, she admitted, and this time she finally understood that by her actions she had denied Damien the opportunity to save his soul.



With that understanding came a dense feeling in her center that gathered into a heavy ball and burst from her. It dragged her forward, sending her on a wild ride and dropping her back into the present. Her heart raced as she found herself beside Damien again.



He raised his face and the anguish there had darkened his eyes almost to black. She tightened her hold on him and together they watched the remainder of the vision play out.



Damien lowered a mortally wounded Angelina to the ground and cradled her in his arms.



“No, Angelina. Please don’t die,” Damien whispered. His blood and tears fell on her face as she struggled for breath. Each inhale more labored and less forceful. Life failed her until darkness claimed her.



Darkness likewise swept away the images in the room, leaving her and Damien bathed only in the moonlight streaming through the windows of his bedroom.



Damien was still huddled on the ground with her embracing him. Their bodies shook from the emotions they had been forced to reexperience. From the lessons they’d both had to learn.



But then something seemed to course through Damien. He shuddered and rose, taking hold of her hand to urge her upward. His resolute, determined gaze met hers.



“You’ve shown me the past and the present. What of the future?” he asked, gripping her hand tightly, almost as if fearing what she would show him.



“I do not know the future, Damien. Only you can decide what it will be.”



His generous lips thinned into a tight line. His silver-blue gaze grew hard, like polished stone. “I will not risk your life again. I will not face Ramirez.”



Her gut twisted, the pain so great she pressed her free hand to her middle as if she had been struck.



“I’m not sure that’s possible,” she said, fearing what she would tell him next.



He searched her features, seeking some clue to what she meant, and then shook his head when he could not. “I don’t understand. Are we fated to meet again? Is that the punishment for the life I’ve led? To suffer the hell of losing you over and over?”



Sadly, she knew this was the last Christmas Eve they would share. “If you do not learn your lesson, I must leave and never return.”



He laughed harshly and dropped her hand. He laid his arms across his chest defensively and stalked away from her, to the window, where he stood for long moments, peering out at the storm, clearly deep in thought.



Finally, he faced her, the lines of his face looking gaunt beneath the silvering of the moonlight. “And if I learn my lesson? What then?”



She walked back to him, laid a hand on his shoulder, willing peace into his soul. “My task is to guide you to the path of what is right. If I succeed, I move on. If I fail…”



She didn’t really know what would happen if she failed. She supposed she’d go to Heaven, but just not as a Guardian Angel. It had never occurred to her that she might go elsewhere….



“You must confront Ramirez,” she said, dreading what might happen if the two men came together once more, but understanding that it was fated. It was an unavoidable battle in the war for Damien’s soul.



“Why? What is so important that I would risk my immortal soul and yours for that piece of slime?” he argued.



Angelina girded herself, drawing in a shaky breath, preparing herself for what she would ask of him.



“Ramirez took my wings and I must get them back.”