Chapter One
It just wasn’t
right. Sasha stared at the brass band from behind his sunglasses,
and wondered for possibly the millionth time if he’d ever get used
to this. The musicians played on, barely drawing breath as they
segued from Silent Night to Oh Little Town of
Bethlehem .
Shoppers surged
past him, some dropping coins into the collecting buckets, others
just dodging around the musicians. Nobody paid him any attention.
Standing there in his T-shirt, denim shorts reaching past his
knees, and flip flops on his feet, he blended easily with the
crowd, especially since he also carried a number of brightly
coloured shopping bags. Christmas presents. Even if it didn’t feel
like Christmas.
It was the
twenty-fourth of December, and yet the sun blazed down, and the
temperature nudged twenty-seven degrees. He should be wrapped up in
a quilted jacket, ankle deep in snow, not sweltering in the middle
of summer.
With a sigh, he
turned and set off toward the bookshop. One more thing to buy, and
then he could call it a day and go home. Well, his current home,
not his real one.
He loved Megan
and couldn’t begin to imagine a life without her, but he missed
Snowdonia. The dull ache of homesickness surged, and for a moment
he felt lost. If he could do anything at all right now, he’d grab
Megan by the hand and take her back to the Welsh mountains he came
from. He’d shift into his wolf form and run, bounding through the
snow to circle back to his Mate. He imagined her throwing
snowballs, while he chased after them, playful as a pup.
Maybe one day.
He’d agreed to live here in New Zealand for another year, possibly
two, and he didn’t break his promises. Not only did it make Megan
happy to stay close to her family, but Sasha had taken on an
important role with the resident wolf pack, and his pride demanded
he see it through.
Thinking of
Megan, he dug a hand into his pocket, and touched the little box
that sat there. Would she like it, or would she think it too soon
for such a commitment? Not for the first time, he wished he’d paid
better attention to his cousin Jake’s courtship of a
non-shifter.
He paused
again, bemused by a sparkling window display. A row of Santas
wearing board shorts and sunglasses? Shaking his head, he moved
on.
****
Sasha hauled
the shopping bags up the steps to his front door, and let himself
into the house. The first thing he saw was the Christmas tree, and
he felt another wave of homesickness. He knew it made sense to have
an artificial tree in this heat—after all, a real tree would be
dead in a few days, to say nothing of the insects that would infest
it—but it was just something else that was wrong.
Back home, his
parents always squeezed a monster fir tree into their lounge, its
top scraping the ceiling. That was how Christmas trees were
supposed to be, every branch creaking under the weight of baubles
and lights and ornaments. And chocolate coins wrapped in gold foil.
Man, he loved those, but they were impossible here. They’d melt
within hours.
He stashed his
parcels underneath the small neat tree, and thought about Megan.
Would she like his presents? This was their first Christmas
together, and he had no idea what she expected. What her traditions
were like. Back home, they’d swap one present each at midnight on
Christmas Eve, then open the rest after a fun and relaxed breakfast
the next morning. Sasha always shared breakfast making with his
twin sister, Tammy, to give their mum a break.
Dinner would be
a giant roast with a mountain of vegetables, and his mum’s special
homemade gravy. A dense, fragrant Christmas pudding would follow,
and then after they’d cleared away all the dishes, they’d go and
run in the snow. He’d missed the traditions last year, while
exploring New Zealand, but he’d fully expected to be home by
now.
He’d never
imagined finding his Mate. Was there any chance of spending
Christmas Day alone with Megan? Their first together,
When in
Learning to Kill: Stories