The Vampire Grinch
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About this ebook
Gavin’s always loved Christmas, but his boyfriend? Malcolm would rather be staked and beheaded, and since he’s a vampire, that’s saying something! Their quarrel threatens to make the holidays less than merry, but when they spend Christmas Eve apart, Malcolm starts thinking of reasons they should keep their Yule fire burning bright.
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The Vampire Grinch - Lacey-Anne Frye
Chapter One
You could always tell when a vampire was irritated.
Malcolm’s icy gray eyes flashed and narrowed, and a muscle in his jaw clenched. It was all barely noticeable, of course, and only someone who’d been among vampires for a while would have been able to catch it.
Gavin Martello was that someone. One of his female coworkers at the gym—and a good personal friend of his—happened to be a vampire, and he’d been dating Malcolm for almost a full year now. He liked to think he’d gotten quite good at reading them, no matter how much they didn’t like it. It was a little vampire secret that they tried to hide their true feelings by not saying anything at all, and so Gavin had learned very fast how to pick up on their expressions.
Malcolm turned away from him, all grace and unearthly beauty. He walked into the kitchen of Gavin’s small home, and he went to the refrigerator, saying nothing.
What’s that look for?
Gavin asked wearily, arms crossing. If Malcolm’s expression had been meant to quiet him, Malcolm was in for a surprise. He may have been a vampire, but Gavin didn’t scare easy. Besides, he knew that beneath the scary I’m-a-monster exterior, Mal could be quite the pussycat.
Nothing.
You know, for being, like, a million years old, you’re not very good at lying.
Malcolm didn’t say anything. He just kept rooting around in the refrigerator. Gavin got the idea that he wasn’t even really seeing anything in there, that he was just doing it to busy his hands. It was like he didn’t want to have to look at Gavin, and for some reason, this was really annoying.
With a little sigh, Gavin slipped past him and climbed up onto the counter next to the fridge. He swung his legs a little, furrowing his brow as he watched the vampire. What on Earth had grated on Malcolm’s nerves this time? What could possibly be wrong with him?
Christmas was on the way, and Gavin had just been telling him about the party his sister was throwing the next evening, Christmas Eve. He’d spent the day putting up his fake tree—by himself, mind you; he’d let Malcolm sleep in his little hidey-hole downstairs—and he’d gotten the living room all nice and decorated for the holiday. He normally put the tree up at least a good couple of weeks before Christmas, but he just hadn’t had time this year. Better late than never, he figured.
It would be his and Malcolm’s first Christmas together since they’d met at the beginning of the year, and Gavin was more than a little excited about it. He’d never had someone to celebrate with—somehow, he’d always been single on what he considered the most important holiday of the year. And to him, things couldn’t have been better. He had a man he loved, a party to go to, the Weather Channel had promised that it’d be a white Christmas, and he was making good money at the gym, which meant that he’d been able to buy good presents for everyone.
So why, when Malcolm had ventured up from the basement, did he have to go and mess it all up? Gavin hadn’t been expecting him to jump for joy at all the decorations that had gone up, but a little Yeah, looks nice
would have gone a long way.
Do I have to guess what’s wrong?
Gavin asked. I can’t read your mind.
I just don’t care for this holiday. I don’t want to do anything for Christmas,
Malcolm said. His tone could only be described as stiff. Confrontational.
What do you mean you don’t want to do anything?
Exactly what I said.
Malcolm spared him a glance, eyes stormy. I don’t want to celebrate.
This was said so simply that it left Gavin stumped. Sure, there were probably a lot of people who didn’t like Christmas, but he’d been so looking forward to it. It’d been his favorite holiday since childhood—the snow, the music, the break from school, the presents—it was hard for him to believe that there were people who didn’t like it. And his mother, with whom he’d been very close, had shared his feelings on the matter—it’d been their thing.
For the first time since he’d been planning the holiday, he suddenly remembered that Malcolm was a vampire.
Oh, is it religious reasons?
He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of that sooner. Crosses and other Christian paraphernalia could hurt vampires, and they couldn’t walk on hallowed ground, and Christmas was very, well, Christ-related.
No. Maybe I just fucking hate Christmas.
"What?"
I’m over a hundred years old, Gavin. I’ve celebrated Christmas all over the world for as long as I’ve been around. It loses its charm after the first fifty years or so, believe me.
Oh. But I thought….
You thought you’d make all these plans and decide what we’re going to do before even consulting me?
Malcolm asked. When he put it like that, it did sound bad. But Gavin had been excited—he couldn’t help it. Maybe if you’d asked first, you wouldn’t have wasted your time putting up all these stupid decorations.