A Christmas Demon for Clara

by Chloe Alice Balkin

  Locke couldn't steal that from her. He'd done a lot of crappy things in his life, but he'd never stolen. Clara wouldn't be the first person he stole from.

  "I better get back to her," he grumbled, but really, this wasn't bad news. He had a new path to forge, and he would forge it.

  On the twelfth gigantic bow on the twelfth gigantic gift basket, this one a spa set with gift certificates to the local salon, Eloise felt the demonic presence leaving the shop. Locke, teleporting out. She'd gotten used to the sensation by now, of his unique signature, and she couldn't decide if she liked it or not. Warm, but maybe too warm. Sweet, definitely too sweet. He'd been like that on their first encounter, and though his temperature fluctuated—today's was searing hot—there was always a cloying sugar about it. Then again, there was an overwhelming sweetness to Clara, so Eloise shouldn't have been so put off by it.

  She hadn't yet picked up the ribbon for the next basket—movie night, complete with six boxes of candy, four bags of popcorn, several passes to the local theater, and gift cards to online movie rental stores—when Hazel came barreling into Eloise's workshop, her chunky boots thundering across the floor.

  Eloise flew up out of her seat and used her extra sense to scan for threats. Demons pinged the most cleanly, but if she focused, she'd get all of Clara's ghosts, plus the angels who were chasing her. But all Eloise caught was the usual collection of ghosts, quiet and listless as they had been since Clara was taken to Hell.

  Hazel never ran. She barely moved. She'd been the worst kid every year in gym class, and the only reason she was ever picked for any team was because Clara made it happen. Eloise would have left her on the bench if she'd had a choice.

  The threat, whatever scared Hazel so much she would run to Eloise, must have been human. And the nice thing about being in a florist shop was there were a lot of sharp objects.

  Eloise grabbed a short knife and some long scissors, the type that did well at stabbing for how sharp their point was, and grabbed the door to usher Hazel inside.

  Hazel was right there on the other side, and she launched herself at Eloise, bowling her over with a laugh Eloise hadn't heard in years.

  "What on God's green Earth has gotten into you?" Eloise gasped, recoiling at Hazel's ridiculous smile. The girl did not smile.

  "He said it! Eloise, I was chewing him out about not taking care of Clara right—he really is the biggest idiot in Hell—and he was freaking out about the demon he's trying to talk to Heaven through, and he said it."

  There was a lot to break down there, but first things first: "What did Locke say?"

  "He loves Clara. He tried to cover it up, but he's the worst liar I've ever met. He's totally in love with her."

  It was something that Eloise had always wanted for Clara, who had never been willing to experience that side of life with all the ghosts looming over her. It was a shame, since Clara really liked children but had never thought she'd be able to have them.

  Children with a demon, though. What were half-demons even like? Eloise had never seen a cambion before, although she'd heard a couple times that they were a thing that did happen and were not strictly banned, unlike the nephilim that came from angels getting it on with humans.

  Did Eloise even like Locke? She argued with him every time he came through, but it wasn't like she was oblivious to the fact that he was trying to do his demon best by Clara. So, yes, Eloise liked Locke. She'd totally zap him, though, if he ever upset Clara.

  "This is okay," she finally said to Hazel.

  "Okay? There is a man who is in love with our sister, and all you have to say is okay?"

  "A demon, technically."

  "Which means you can nuke him at Clara's whim." Hazel huffed as she got back up on her feet and offered her hand to Eloise. "Jeez, I figured you'd be more excited than this. Clara needs romance. Aren't you the one who's always saying that?"

  Eloise took Hazel's hand, the feeling of getting pulled upright leaving her woozy while Hazel dusted dirt off her back. She grabbed onto the door frame to clear the cobwebs and tried to say, "Not with a demon! She's probably…probably not even, ah, into him." She stumbled over the words badly enough that Hazel leaned in to see if she was okay.

  "I'm fine," Eloise barked out, but now she was sure the woozy feeling wasn't a headrush at all, it was that damn angel. He was in the shop.

  She wasn't letting that man threaten her sister again, not a chance. Hazel stayed at her heel, grabbing a rolling pin and slamming it against her palm like a bat. Hazel was going to go berserk on that angel. They marched together through the bakery and on into the shop, where the angel stood at the register, staring down Kaydee.

  "When will she be back?" the angel asked softly, but even in his human form, his wings tucked away, he leaked too much energy. Kaydee whimpered and shied away, and a few of the patrons watched to see if they needed to intervene.

  No need. Before Eloise had a chance to even get the angel's attention and tell him to get lost, Hazel let out a battle cry, charged ahead, and swung the rolling pin back over her head. Despite the rough spread of momentum, she had the arm strength to clock the blond-haired menace hard in the face before her body smashed into his, throwing them both to the ground.

  Hazel may have been a one-trick pony, but it was a good trick.

  The angel's wings sprang out beneath him with a poof of gold that fanned out through the shop.

  Hazel raised the pin back over her head and swung it down toward his skull.

  It got to within a breath of his shimmering skin before his hand darted out, grabbed it, and threw it to the side.

  Not enough to stop Hazel. Her hands balled into fists, and she got three good punches in before the angel managed to flip them over, pinning her on her back. "My battle isn't with you," he said in his soft voice, but Hazel wasn't going to be cowed by it.

  "You come after Clara, you come after me!"

  "I only wish to speak to her."

  Hazel's hips bucked hard. The angel was massive, easily heavy enough to hold her down, but he yelped and rolled onto his side. "You're a liar!" Hazel screeched as she struggled to untangle herself from him. "I've got demons who can’t lie and now angels who think they're so suave with it, and you know what? You're way shittier! Piece of shit angel!" She clocked him again before pulling herself out of his grip and onto her feet.

  "I am capable of lying," the angel said as he stood, "but I'm not now. I cannot hurt you, but you cannot hurt me either, and I did attempt to kill your sister, but that is not my intention today. Have you had communication with her?"

  Hazel took a step toward him, a dangerous step that any man would consider threatening, but what did angels consider threatening? "I can lie, too, but I'll spare you one. I just won't tell. Whether I can or can't doesn't matter, because I won't. Locke says his boss is talking to your people now."

  "Boss?"

  Hazel jammed her hand into her hip and popped her chest out, making sure the angel could see how little she cared about the way he loomed over her. The black cotton of her shredded tee shirt brushed against his oatmeal colored tank, daring him to make any move at all, as she said, "Yeah, his boss. You don't need to talk to me again. You don't need to come into my shop again."

  The angel glared at both sisters. "You two play a dangerous game," he said, bringing his focus to Eloise. "Especially you. Heaven might not care what you do, but Hell has little patience."

  With that threat, the angel's wings flared out behind him, showering the bakery with a golden glitter as he took to the air, dissipating before he could brush against the ceiling.

  Eloise took a breath, only then realizing that she'd been frozen in place. She looked around the bakery and found everyone else had, too, but they all looked confused, knowing they'd lost time but not what happened then.

  Hazel was looking down at her shirt and glaring. Where they'd touched, though it was through the shirts they wore, there was a tiny gold imprint on her chest
.

  She huffed and snagged a strawberry shortcake donut from the case, huffed more when a hefty pile of powdered sugar joined the gold print.

  Chapter 17

  Naps had never before been a part of Clara's life. But life here was different. She timed her bakes perfectly so she'd have a nice window to curl up in bed—which was never how she slept, either, not curled—for a few hours before finishing off the day's baking.

  She was still sleepy when she woke up, but time was running a little too tight to lounge any longer, so she padded down the dark hallway to the stairs, illuminated by the undecorated but pre-lit tree.

  Her breath caught when she reached the stairs and discovered the tree had been decorated, after all. Cascades of silver ribbons, ornaments in metallic tones, spread all over, even some flowers and birds, sprays of snow, bits of nature strewn about. On a smaller tree it would have been gaudy, but this was incredible.

  On top of it was a large, gracefully intricate star that glowed dimly, drawing the eye up without overpowering everything. When she dropped down a few more steps, she realized it was the star from her own tree.

  "Sorry," Locke murmured from where he hid behind the tree, fussing with the tree skirt. "I meant to have this fully set up before you got up."

  "My star," she whispered.

  "Hazel sent it back with me. It's really nicely made, you know."

  Clara nodded but couldn't tear her eyes off it. "We got it in Turkey. It cost a fortune, but I fell in love with the stained-glass panes and the way the metal curled around it. Thank you so much, Locke."

  He scratched the back of his head, fluffing up his already messy hair. "You don't need to thank me. This is an apology. We don't have anything like this, so I didn't realize I was supposed to help you decorate it. Not that it's an excuse, I just didn't know this was something people do together."

  Clara gave him a smile that she hoped wasn't too dampened with tears. She wasn't sure if demons understood tears of joy. "And you ended up doing the whole thing anyway."

  Locke's face fell. "Hell's rings, I messed it up again."

  Clara laughed and continued down the stairs to stand by his side and admire the work he'd done. "Surprises are nice, too. All it needs is presents under it to be a proper tree."

  Despite the bags under his violet eyes and the sag in his shoulders, Locke hopped right up at that. "Aha! I've brought presents." He brought in a bag from the dining room and set under the tree seven boxes, three each from her sisters and one from him.

  "I'll get something under there for you, too," she promised.

  "You don't have to."

  "I don't, but I will. You should go take a nap, though. You look really tired."

  Locke stretched out in a guest room close to the stairs so he could hear Clara’s Christmas carols while he napped.

  He'd been so wrong the whole time. He hadn't wanted her body; he'd wanted her happiness. It came as a shock when the bliss of satiation warmed him, but a pleasant shock. The high he was getting off Clara's happiness was enough that he was sure he could survive until lemon bar season in the spring without any problems. He just had to keep Clara happy.

  He was careful to dodge her, though, when he grabbed everything for the afternoon delivery. Explaining that he no longer needed to have sex with her could go catastrophically wrong.

  As had things in Sweet Moments that day, apparently.

  "What's happened here?" Locke asked as he rushed through the storeroom door when he smelled blood on the other side. He took the rolling pin Hazel still clutched to her chest while Eloise dabbed at a cut on her brow.

  "She got in a fight with that damn angel," Eloise said.

  "I messed him up pretty good, right?" Hazel asked. She looked to Eloise for assurance, as though she wasn't entirely sure what had happened.

  "Yes, you did. Here, drink this juice while Locke and I stock the front case." As soon as they were through the doors, she hissed, "What did that angel do to her?" at Locke.

  "I need some details here."

  "She hit him a couple times with a rolling pin, knocked him over, they rolled around for a bit. She bumped her head a bit in the tussle, but not enough for her to be acting weird. She remembers what happened, but it's all wrong. And…she's been smiling. Like, way more than Hazel smiles."

  That was what Locke needed. "Did he touch her at all? Like, directly? Was there any gold dust on her skin?"

  "Just a bit on her shirt. Not anymore though, she brushed it off with some powdered sugar." Eloise tipped her head back. "That's when it happened, isn't it?"

  "Angels shed…a bunch of weird shit. He probably hit her with something to make her happy so she'd stop attacking him."

  "Will it hurt her?"

  "Angels only use it to subdue people, however they need to go about that. She's fine."

  "Guys, come try this!" Hazel hollered from the back.

  She was gumming her way through something she'd dug out of one of Clara's boxes. It was too mushed for Locke to identify, so he glanced into the box and saw at least twenty desserts made from pairs of soft, jumbo-sized chocolate cookies, filled with a thick dollop of chocolate mousse and drizzled with chocolate ganache.

  "It's a fudge round," he murmured.

  Eloise wrinkled her nose at them. "They look really boring. Why didn't she add decorations to it? Or some raspberries or something."

  "They're perfect as they are," Locke protested with a big smile, and Hazel nodded in agreement.

  "Did you put her up to this?" Eloise asked.

  "I didn't tell her to make them, but I do like them." He reached out to take one but remembered he was trying to back down so she wouldn't have to work so hard making extras for him.

  "Well, go on!" Eloise said with a little laugh. "Take one like you always do."

  He shook his head. "It wasn't right for me to steal the other things. I won't take anything from you anymore. It's your livelihood."

  "You are a very strange demon," Hazel said with a grotesque giggle. "They are amazing. She made them for you."

  Locke frowned down at the box of cookie sandwiches. They were his favorite, and she knew it, but she could have just as easily made them to torment him. Whatever her reason, he didn't deserve them. "If she'd wanted me to have one, she would have given me one. She wouldn't have buried them in the bottom of the stack."

  "They're for you," Eloise insisted. "Nut up and eat it."

  Locke was out of protests. They were forcing it on him, which was absurd when he was a glut demon. The whole thing was absurd. He should have just sat in the closet for hours getting fat off the entire run. It would all burn off in a few hours anyway.

  He selected one that had a bit of a dent in the edge and turned away, uncomfortable with the intense stares of the twins, who seemed to think this was way more important than it was. Clara made new stuff every day; this was most likely a result of her raiding his pantry.

  He bit into it. The damn thing made his fangs tingle. The texture of the cookies, fluffy with a thin sheath of crust, and the lush, firm mousse paired so well the mousse didn't even slide out of place. The cookies were sweet, but the mousse was a sinfully dark chocolate. Even the ganache, no more than a garnish, added a well-balanced coat of bittersweet. It was simple.

  It was divine.

  He didn't need the lemon bars. His glut demon urges had fallen completely silent within him.

  It should have been bliss, but it was colored with a twinge of sadness. Only the angels kept Clara in Hell. Once that was resolved, she was gone.

  Locke looked so relaxed, and the slight smile on his lips should have indicated that he was happy, but as he measured out the flour on the scale, he went still and sighed heavily before scooping out the next cup of flour.

  "Is something wrong?" Clara asked, suddenly alarmed at how helpful he'd been since returning from the last run. There'd been a weird change in him today. A good one, but a weird one. "Are my sister
s okay? And Druxel and Ramellen?" She looked around, realizing she hadn't seen the lesser demons in a while. "Is Fattooth at the dentist again?"

  Locke shook his head and smiled at her again, and she let that smile warm her up even if he was feeling a little down. She couldn't help it. She'd finally made friends, and she didn't think Ramellen and Druxel were her only friends.

  Locke was her friend. Things weren't always great between them, but she was grateful for everything he was doing for her—even when he was rough about it.

  "Everything is fine," he said. "Sorry, I didn't mean to worry you."

  "You didn't."

  The look Locke gave her made it clear he knew she was lying. He didn't look annoyed by it, just aware that she was saying it to soothe him.

  "I'll make some hot cocoa for us. It's cold today."

  He nodded and headed to the pantry, bringing back two big bags and handing one to Clara. She opened it to find a very fine chocolate. She fired up the electric stove top and got to whisking the milk and chocolate together, only looking over at Locke when she was sure she had the temperature right.

  From the second big bag, he was measuring out figs.

  She ran through the list of baked goods she'd written out that morning, not recalling anything with figs. She studied his work station, considering each ingredient he used, thinking through what he'd already done. The spices, the almonds, the orange, made an obvious holiday treat, but she still had to ask.

  "What are you making?"

  He shot her a sly grin that was all fang. "It's a surprise."

  "Is it fruit cake?"

  "It is a fruit cake," he said, his tone hinting that he was being slightly deceptive. "Go back to your hot cocoa."