Christmas Hellhound (A Mate for Christmas Book 2) Read online

  Caine’s instincts were pricking. Not his demon’s instincts, but the ones that he’d honed in his old life as a private investigator.

  Something was making Meaghan upset. Something that had driven her to save the dogs from whoever had stolen them, and to shove him in the back of her truck.

  And he had a suspicion she was getting close to revealing what it was. Or letting it boil out of her, at least.

  “Don’t say what?” he prompted. She groaned.

  “I warned you, don’t encourage me…” Meaghan narrowed her eyes at him and turned her attention back to the road. “Fine. You asked for it. I think there’s more to the low tourist numbers this year than just bad luck. Because numbers aren’t just low, they’re in the negatives. Even some locals are staying away from Pine Valley this Christmas.”

  “Why?”

  Meaghan was bubbling over with frustration, but something was still stopping her. “Keep in mind this is crazy conspiracy level stuff we’re talking here.”

  “Is that what you really think?” How many people have told her that?

  “No. It’s not.” Meaghan made a face. “Fine. There’s been… stuff happening. Weird stuff. Ever since Halloween.”

  The skin on the back of Caine’s neck prickled. “You mentioned something about a toy store burning down.”

  “Everyone says it was an accident.”

  “And you don’t believe them.”

  Caine watched Meaghan’s face as she decided how to answer. She gnawed on her bottom lip, squeezed her eyes shut for a second, and groaned.

  “No, I don’t believe them. And I think it’s going to get worse. I don’t know how much you know about Pine Valley, but—”

  “Assume I know nothing.”

  Meaghan took a deep breath, and then shrugged. “Okay. The hell with it. So, Pine Valley is a tourist town. Lives and dies—pay attention to that last part—on people visiting on their vacation and spending money locally. The biggest draws are Halloween, when all the trees turn fall colors, and Christmas, because, well, it’s a cute little town in the mountains that gets a lot of snow.”

  She rolled her shoulders back. They clicked so loudly that Caine winced in sympathy… and wished he could reach out and massage them.

  “Stuff started to get weird around Halloween. I mean, there’s a limit to the number of trees that can fall down right in front of a tour bus, or how often all the streetlights can short out at the same time, right? Or people saying they were almost run off the road by some sort of freaky wild animals with scary glowing eyes? It can’t all be random. They have to be connected.”

  Caine tensed. “Glowing eyes?”

  Meaghan gestured angrily. “Jackson just says that all animals have glowing eyes when they get caught in headlights, but some of the people I talked to said their eyes weren’t just glowing, they were on fire. It’s got to be someone dressed up or some sort of trick, right? But no one remembers anything about what they looked like except for the eyes, and that seeing them really freaked them out.”

  “And they’ve been running people off the road? Chasing them?”

  “No one’s been hurt, thank God. But some tourists skidded into a snow drift after the driver thought he saw one of these ghost-things. And some people say they saw them on some of the Puppy Express routes, which took a chunk out of bookings. No one wants to go out on a magical sleighride and get eaten by wild animals.”

  “Ghosts,” Caine said quietly. Burning eyes. Spreading terror. This all sounds too familiar.

  “That’s what I’ve been calling them. The ghost gang. Because it can’t just be one person, right? And now we know it isn’t, because Olly says it was three guys who broke into the Puppy Express this morning.” She frowned and her voice became uncertain. “Or—not broke in exactly—it looked more like they snuck in somehow without her seeing, and then smashed things up as they broke out…”

  A full-body shiver grabbed hold of Caine. Walking through walls. Remember that?

  The night the hellhounds had attacked him, he’d run through the streets, trying to throw them off. He’d thought he’d lost them at the end of a maze of garbage-filled alleyways and abandoned lots, but then one of the monsters had walked straight through a brick wall in front of him.

  He shook his head. He was jumping to conclusions. Besides, there definitely were other shifters in Pine Valley. The whole reason Caine was here was to find a dragon shifter and ask for his help. If this “ghost gang” really were like him, then wouldn’t a dragon have dealt with them by now?

  “You don’t believe me.” Meaghan’s voice was flat.

  “No, I don’t—I don’t not believe you.” Caine winced. That sounded fake even to him.

  “Don’t worry about it. You’re in good company. No one else believes there’s anything weird going on, either.”

  “Something supernatural,” Caine suggested carefully. “What you’ve described sounds kind of like… shapeshifters.”

  Meaghan laughed. “Come on. Even I wouldn’t go that far. I said conspiracy theory, not aliens.”

  Caine relaxed. She hadn’t taken the bait. She must not know about shifters.

  Meaghan’s shoulders slumped. “No supernatural stuff needed. Just me being crazy and butting in where I’m not wanted. Making bad decisions. Kidnapping innocent tourists—seriously, you must be the only visitor in town right now and look at the welcome I gave you.”

  “What makes you think kidnapping me was a bad decision?”

  Meaghan was watching the road but at that, her eyes went wide. She pulled over and turned fully toward Caine, her expression incredulous.

  “Excuse me? Why was kidnapping you a bad idea? Did you hit your head before I found you or—" She bit down on one knuckle and groaned. “Did you hit your head when I... pushed you into the back of my truck...”

  Caine laughed. “My head’s fine. And I'm completely serious. I came to Pine Valley for—business—” The lie almost stuck to the back of his tongue but he managed to spit it out. “...and instead I get a free ride to town, some stylish new clothes—”

  Meaghan snorted again but this time, the corners of her mouth curved up. Caine’s smile widened in response. His heartbeat sped up.

  “And I get to spend the evening finding out everything you’ve pulled together about this ghost gang.”

  Meaghan stopped biting her knuckle. “You’re serious. You do believe me?”

  Her eyes were fixed on his. Caine felt like he was drowning in their honey-brown depths.

  “Yes,” he reassured her. “And I want to know more. About the ghost gang, and what they’ve done... and how we can stop them.”

  And if it means I get to spend more time with you... well, that’s the cherry on top.

  Meaghan’s eyes flashed. She straightened her shoulders.

  “I’d better get us into town before you change your mind, then,” she said.

  Her grin lit up Caine’s heart.

  Half an hour later, Meaghan’s grin was fading, and Caine’s heart was troubled.

  The Puppy Express was just out of town, but there’d been no traffic on the roads. Even as they wound through the outskirts of Pine Valley township, the streets were eerily quiet.

  “Least we’ll have no trouble finding a parking spot,” Meaghan muttered, turning up a wide street.

  Caine frowned. “Is this the middle of town?”

  “Smack bang in the center.” Meaghan grimaced. “You could have gotten a room right in the square for peanuts, instead of renting way out in the woods.”

  “It didn’t even occur to me to look at anything this central.” He'd wanted the safety of solitude, not easy access to town—but that wasn’t a problem now. He grinned, relief washing over him again.

  “Usually everywhere in town’s booked out months in advance. But this year... well. Like I said. Freaky shit is up, and bookings are down.”

  The brakes made a crunching sound as she parked. Caine dashed around to the driver’s door to open it
for her before she’d finished fighting with her seatbelt. This time, she didn’t glare at him as he held the door.

  At least, not as much.

  And it wasn’t his face she was glaring at.

  Her eyes slid sideways. It was hard to tell, with her dark skin and only the light from the streetlights to see by, but Caine was almost certain she was blushing.

  “Are you seriously not cold right now?” she muttered.

  Caine looked down. His Puppy Express winter coat was still hanging open, revealing the stretch-cotton t-shirt he was wearing underneath. A smug warmth rolled through him. “Not particularly.”

  Meaghan grumbled something inaudible, which Caine took as encouragement.

  “Another reason why you kidnapping me wasn’t a bad idea. I don’t have a clue how to dress out here in the mountains. I might have frozen solid if you hadn’t bundled me into the back of the truck with your dogs.”

  “You wouldn’t have been outside if you hadn’t heard me shouting,” she retorted.

  “Maybe not. I still would have heard the dogs, though. I might have gone chas—looking for them anyway, and without you, I'd be a block of ice right now.”

  Chasing. Hunt. Just ordinary words, but... too close. Even with his monster gone. Caine shook himself, then caught Meaghan looking at him and turned it into an exaggerated shiver. She rolled her eyes and looked away.

  He'd forgotten what it was like. Being a normal person. Getting to know someone without constantly watching over his own shoulder. Messing around. Joking.

  And he knew just how to spend his first Christmas as a regular human again. Helping this incredible woman uncover who’d been sabotaging the town’s holiday cheer.

  “Do they not have snow where you come from? No offense, but you don’t strike me as the tropical island type. Not enough of a tan.” Meaghan headed up the street and Caine followed her, his boots crunching on the salted sidewalk.

  “Have pity on a poor city boy. I’m not used to being more than six feet from a well-heated coffee shop. I—what is that?”

  They turned a corner at the end of the street and the night exploded in a dazzling display of golden lights. Caine blinked. Beside him, so close he could have put his arm around her, Meaghan laughed.

  “How did you manage to miss it when you drove in?”

  “I didn’t come in through town. Didn’t want to—” Caine licked his lips. “Uh, get caught in traffic.”

  “Any other Christmas, that would be smart.” Meaghan sighed. “Pity. The town square is a slightly nicer introduction to Pine Valley than being thrown in the back of a truck.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure. At least the truck didn’t blind me.”

  Meaghan looked at him like she wasn’t sure if he was laughing at her or with her. For a moment Caine felt like he was on the edge of a precipice—then she snorted with laughter.

  “O come all ye faithful, and gaze upon the glory of the Heartwell Christmas Tree! Well. It’s more of a Christmas Forest these days.”

  Caine hesitated. “Did you say Heartwell?”

  Meaghan stuffed her hands in her pockets and rocked back on her heels, surveying the “Christmas Forest”.

  “Uh-huh. Old local family. They run a trust for the town decorations and have gone all out this year.”

  Caine blinked at the scene in front of them. “I’ll say.”

  Christmas trees of all sizes filled the square, blazing with light from strings of Christmas lights wound around and between them. The largest trees towered above the buildings, and the smallest ones barely came up to Caine’s knees. It looked as though a magical forest had sprouted up in the middle of town, and the old-fashioned shop fronts that lined the square added to the fairytale atmosphere.

  The Heartwells did this? he wondered. A family of dragon shifters… who are really, really into tinsel?

  “What do you think?” Meaghan’s eyes were sharp.

  Caine considered his answer. “It’s great.”

  Then he reconsidered. The “Christmas Forest” was an incredible feat, clearly, but there was something slightly off about it. And not just the thought that it had been designed and paid for by a family of people who could turn into giant, fire-breathing mythological animals.

  “But where is everyone?”

  The town square Christmas display was magical, festive… and deserted. No small children running through the trees while their parents struggled with shopping bags. No couples wandering arm-in-arm under the lights. There was a brightly painted caravan under the largest tree that looked like it was meant to be some sort of food truck, but the service window was shuttered and the lights were off.

  Caine searched the square and only saw one solitary walker, head down, hurrying along the shop fronts without even looking at the display. A door opened briefly, and then the square was empty again.

  Meaghan puffed out her cheeks. “And that’s how you go from ‘magical Christmas wonderland’ to ‘creepy haunted town’ in one easy step, folks. Or from ‘creepy haunted town’ to ‘festively lit and somehow even creepier haunted town’.” She hesitated, her eyes glittering. “Ready for some more conspiracy theorizing?”

  “Hit me.” Caine’s eyes were dazzled, but he hung on her every word.

  “The Heartwell family always sponsors a Christmas tree for the town square. One tree. And now, the same year that visitors are down, tourist revenue is plummeting, and no one will admit that maybe there’s something behind all the weird shit that’s been driving people away… what do we get? Not one tree, but dozens, lighting up the square like someone’s afraid of the dark.”

  A shiver went down Caine’s spine. Meaghan raised one eyebrow.

  “Too crazy?”

  “Not at all. Except if that was the plan, it’s not working, is it? No one’s here.”

  “And the creepy factor grows.” Meaghan scuffed her foot on the sidewalk. “Or maybe it’s all just a terrible coincidence. Someone made a bad call and put more money into the town decorations fund the same year visitor numbers randomly go down, and all the weird shit that’s been going on has nothing to do with it. There’s no conspiracy to scare people away from Pine Valley.”

  “And if that’s the case, then you’ve been going around kidnapping tourists for nothing.”

  Meaghan grimaced. “You have no idea what a freak I’ve been about this whole situation. I’m surprised—” She sighed. “Never mind. Come on. Let’s go get your ‘sorry I kidnapped you’ dinner. Hannah’s place should be open tonight and we don’t need to worry about getting a table…”

  Caine fell into step beside her as she headed across the square. He took a deep breath and the icy air stung his lungs.

  What he’d told Meaghan was true: he was a city boy. He was used to snow and ice—but not being somewhere where the nearest centrally-heated building was farther away than the edge of the sidewalk. The icy air in his lungs was as biting as it could get in the city in winter, but it was a clean cold, with no lingering tang of pollution. Winter in Pine Valley was familiar and strange at the same time… and so was he.

  Caine caught sight of himself in a dark window. Same reddish-brown hair and blue eyes, same pale skin and undefeatable shadow of stubble on his chin. But who was he really, now?

  Not the same Caine he’d been last Christmas, before the hellhound had gotten its claws into him. Not the Caine he’d been for the last twelve months, fighting his way through a new, terrifying world.

  Someone new.

  The trees made it hard to see much of the buildings as they crossed the square. Caine glimpsed some wooden facades and smaller Christmas displays and decals on shop windows. And—

  “What the hell is that?”

  “I told you, it’s the Heartwell—oh. That.” Meaghan’s voice fell. “It’s—hey! Do you want to know, or not?”

  She had to yell because Caine was already running. The patch of darkness he’d spotted through the trees pulled at him like a magnet. The deserted Christmas display migh
t be eerie, but this shadow was wrong.

  He skidded to a stop in front of what had looked from a distance like a brightly-colored streamer. The police tape was stretched across the front of a burned-out husk that must have once been a quaint shop like the others around the square.

  Meaghan caught up to Caine and stood beside him, hands in her pockets and her breath puffing out in huge white clouds.

  “That,” she said, her voice hard, “is another accident.”

  Caine’s nose wrinkled. The fire that had ripped through the building had happened long enough ago that there was a layer of snow on what was left of the walls, and inside, where it had fallen through the burnt-out holes in the roof. But the bitter smell of burning paint still lingered on the air.

  “Was anyone hurt?”

  “No, thank God. The shop had been closed for repairs. Then, the night before the big reopening—boom. Up in flames.” Meaghan sighed. “All the new stock, all the work and money that went into fixing the place up… and only a week before Christmas.”

  “What sort of a store was it?” Caine knelt down. There was more than just a hint of fire and ash in the air; there was something else, something just out of reach of his human senses…

  “Toys. Mr. Bell is—well, let’s just say I wouldn’t want to work for him, but he puts on a hell of a Santa Claus show for the kids. Like if the Grinch decided he liked Christmas after all but still was a total dick about it.”

  “A Christmas toy store.”

  Caine went very still. His breath steamed in the air.

  “This happened a few days ago?”

  “And today they hit the Puppy Express.” Meaghan hissed with frustration. “If there is a they. If the men who stole the dogs today are the same people who’ve been behind everything else.”

  “They’re escalating. Going from scaring people to endangering them.”

  Chasing them off. But why?

  He rubbed the back of his neck at another prickle of familiarity. It can’t be… what you suspect. You’re jumping to conclusions. Remember how badly that went back when you started out as a PI?

  Forget the supernatural side. Not everything in the world has to do with shifters.