Magic Graves

the festive mood. "Nothing. Annette must be running behind."
    "Some bloke rang her right before we left the hotel. She said she'd catch up with us," Spade said, coming to stand behind Denise. With his great height, her head was barely even with his shoulders, but neither of them seemed to mind. Black hair spilled across his face as he leaned down to kiss her neck.
    "Why am I the only one without someone to snog?" Ian muttered, giving me an accusatory glance. "Knew I should've brought a date."
    "You didn't get to bring a date because the type of girl you'd pick would want to liven things up with a group orgy before cutting the cake," I pointed out.
    His smile was shameless. "Exactly."
    I rolled my eyes. "Deal with not being the center of slutty attention for once, Ian. It'll do you good."
    "No it won't," he said, shuddering as if in horror. "Think I'll go to the hotel and see what's taking Annette."
    Denise snorted. "Way to make do with who's available."
    I bit back my laugh with difficulty. Denise's opinion of Ian - and Annette - was even worse than my own, but that didn't make her wrong. Still, out of respect for both of them being Bones's friends, I contained my snicker.
    Far from being offended, Ian archly rose his brows. "Just following the American adage about turning a frown upside down."
    Mencheres, ever the tactful one, chose that moment to glide over. "Perhaps we should turn our attention to gifts."
    Bones clapped Ian on the back. "Don't take too long, mate."
    "I'll try to limit myself to an hour," Ian replied with a straight face.
    "Pig," I couldn't help but mutter. Hey, I'd tried to rein myself in! If vampires could still get diseases, I'd wish a festering case of herpes on him, but I suppose it was a good thing that Ian's ability to carry or transmit STD's died with his humanity.
    Ian left, chuckling to himself the whole time.
    Bones's arm slid across my shoulders, his fingers stroking my flesh along the way. I'd worn the backless halter dress because I knew he wouldn't be able to resist that bare expanse of skin, and I was right. Heat spilled over my emotions in its own caress as Bones dropped his shields so I could access his feelings. The tie that existed between us wasn't only forged in love. It was also the blood deep, eternal link between a vampire and their sire. Bones had changed me from a half vampire into a mostly-full one, and ever since, I could tap into his emotions like they were an extension of my own. There had been some serious drawbacks to my changing over, but I'd do it again just to have that level of intimacy between us.
    Of course, that wasn't the only undead perk. The ability to heal instantly, fly, and mesmerize people didn't suck, either.
    "Do you know how lovely you look?" he asked, his voice deepening in timber. Hints of glowing green appeared in his dark brown eyes, a visual cue of his appreciation.
    I leaned in to whisper my reply. "Tell me later, when everyone's gone."
    His laugh was low and promising. "That I will, Kitten."
    We went into the next room where a pile of presents awaited. Vampires had been called many things, but stingy usually wasn't among them. Bones had barely made a dent in opening his gifts before his cell phone rang. He glanced at the number with a chuckle.
    "Ian, don't tell me you and Annette are too occupied to return," he said in lieu of a hello.
    Supernatural hearing meant that I picked up every word of Ian's clipped reply.
    "You need to get over here. Now."

Chapter Two

    Bones and I were the only ones to enter the resort. The rest of our group stayed in the parking lot, keeping watch to make sure events didn't go from bad to worse with an ambush. Most people at the inn were sleeping this time of night, which I was grateful for. No intrusive chatter barraging my mind thanks to my unwanted ability to overhear humans' thoughts. Just the softer hum from dreams which was as easy to tune out as your average background noise.
    Once I followed Bones inside the Appalachian suite Annette had rented, however, the tranquil atmosphere shattered. Crimson streaked the walls, wood floors, and in heavier quantities, the mattress. From the scent, it was Annette's blood, not someone else's. I expected the room to show signs of a fierce struggle, but not a stick of furniture seemed out of place.
    Ian stood in the far corner of the room, his normally mocking countenance drawn into harsh lines of anger.
    "In there," he said, jerking his head at the closed bathroom