Just before he banged on the cockpit door, Quinn glanced back at Frannie. He had never wanted this for her, never wished this life upon her, and he knew that it had never been her desire. Yet he could not help feeling a deeper love for her now. They had always been brother and sister, but now they were a different kind of kin, connected not only by their own blood but by the moon, and the blood they had spilled.
“We’re going back,” Quinn promised.
His sister, her lovely orange and black fur dappled with blood, purred contentedly and went back to her meal.
THE REAL SANTA CLAUS
LEIGH PERRY
My friend Leigh Perry’s favorite character is Diantha, the half-demon niece of the mostly demon lawyer Desmond Cataliades. In After Dead, I say that Mr. Cataliades drops in on Sookie just before Christmas every year. In this story, set while Sookie is pregnant with her third child, the lawyer’s pre-Christmas visit reveals that things aren’t merry in Sookie’s household, and Mr. C tasks Diantha with finding out why.
—
“Maybehesanelf,” I said.
“More slowly, please.”
“Talkingordriving?”
“Both, I think.”
“Suresuresure. I mean, sure.”
My uncle, Desmond Cataliades, was in the backseat of his new black Lexus while I drove at a fraction of the speed I should have been going. I like working for Uncle Desmond, but he’s got rules. One of them is for me to try to avoid getting more speeding tickets.
“Anyway, Santa Claus,” I said. “Maybe he’s an elf. I read that story—‘The Night Before Christmas’—and it says he was a right jolly old elf.”
Uncle Desmond said, “Indeed?” which was what he said when he wasn’t really listening. He’s way polite. He says manners help him control his demon-ness, which is important because he’s mostly demon. I’m only half demon, so I don’t need to be that polite.
Even though he wasn’t listening, I kept talking because driving that gorgeous hunk of car at the speed limit was putting me to sleep. “The thing is, I’ve seen an elf or two and they didn’t look anything like Santa Claus. Their ears were funny looking, their hair looked like fur instead of hair, and they weren’t fat. Plus they both had these pointy teeth that I thought were kinda hot, but they’d freak out any human kid who tried to sit in their laps.”
“Almost certainly.” He kept tapping away at his laptop, working even though it was Christmas Eve.
Not that demons really go in for celebrating the birth-of-Christ thing, but a lot of the people Uncle Desmond does business with do, so we non-human-American types take the time off and have our own parties. After all, who doesn’t like getting presents?
I said, “I bet the guy who wrote that story never even saw an elf.”
“I suspect you’re right, Diantha. Elves rarely leave survivors.”
“Besides, all the elves have gone back to Faery, and kids keep getting presents, so . . . he can’t be an elf.”
“Well reasoned, my dear.”
“That lets out most of the rest of the fae, too—the really powerful ones are gone and the part-fae like Sookie don’t have the juice to pull it off.”
“Indeed,” he said again.
“Maybe a vampire. He only comes out at night, and hanging a stocking or putting up a sign that says Santa Stop Here is kinda like an invitation into the house, and nothing hides bloodstains like a red suit. Those sugarplums dancing in the kids’ heads? Vampire whammy power.”
“Mmmmm.”
“Of course, you almost never see a fat vampire, but hey, what would a vampire look like after gorging on sleeping kids all over the world? He’d get bloated, right? There’s still the reindeer, but maybe they’re were. Did you ever hear of a werereindeer?”
“I don’t believe I have.”
“Shifter Sam could change into a reindeer.”
“I must remind you not to call Sookie’s husband Shifter Sam. When one speaks rapidly, as you frequently do, that sounds uncomfortably like Shifty Sam, which Sookie would certainly take amiss.”
“Suresuresure.” I didn’t do it on purpose. Sam didn’t always like it when we came to visit, but he wasn’t shifty. “Maybe Santa is a shifter like Sam—he could shift into something small like a cockroach to get into the houses and have other shifters around to turn into reindeer.” I liked the idea of a cockroach Santa but had to say, “Nah, a bug wouldn’t be able to carry presents down the chimney, and the reindeer would need a talisman or something for flying. No, wait!” I snapped my fingers.
“Both hands on the wheel, my dear.”
“Suresuresure.” It wasn’t like I didn’t have fast reflexes, especially when we were going so slooooow. “What about a witch? A spell to teleport into the house, a magic hold-a-bunch-of-stuff bag for the toys, and either bespelled reindeer or an illusion. It would have to be a powerful witch, but it could happen.”
“It’s within the realm of possibility.”
“But why would a witch have anything to do with Christmas? They’ve got their own holidays. And why give away all that stuff? Witches charge through the nose for every little spell.”
“When have you done business with a witch?”
Burningcrap, I’d finally gotten his full attention. “Not me, a friend of mine. A were I met. From Albany.”
“I see.”
I could feel him staring at the back of my neck, which is scary. I work for him, and we’re family, and he likes me, but still. Mostly demon. Finally he started back tapping on his laptop and I relaxed.
I hadn’t bought the hex anyway. It cost too much just to play a trick on Uncle Desmond’s daughters even though Eudokia, Kallistrae, and Myrrine deserved it. They were such asshats.
I spent the rest of the drive to Bon Temps going through the supe roll call trying to figure out what Santa really is. A maenad would have parents doing a lot more than kissing under the mistletoe; ghosts wouldn’t be able to make toys; goblins don’t care about humans and don’t have the right look anyway; Britlingens are all about fighting; and whatever Dr. Ludwig is, she’s definitely not Santa Claus.
When we finally made it to Sookie’s house, which is in the middle of nowhere, even for Bon Temps, I jumped out and ran around the car a couple of times to get the kinks out before opening the back door for Uncle Desmond. While he was still climbing out, I got the trunk open and grabbed a bunch of wrapped presents, making sure to only get the ones for Sookie and her family. The packages for my cousins and their kids had to be bigger and fancier because one time they’d noticed that Sookie’s presents looked as good as theirs.
“Careful, Diantha,” Uncle Desmond warned. “Some of the gifts are fragile.”
“Suresuresure.” I keep telling Uncle Desmond that it would be faster to buy gift cards, but he says that lacks the personal touch. At least he doesn’t make me do his shopping since that time I got into a hurry at Macy’s and broke some things. I don’t like waiting in line.
I do like going to Sookie’s house because I like Sookie. She’s human but treats me nicer than a trio of cousins I could name. I particularly like going at Christmastime because her house isn’t so dull then. Sookie and Sam put up colored lights outside and decorate inside the house, too, with a big Christmas tree and garland all over. It’s still not as colorful as my place, but it’s a lot better than it usually is.
Only when I looked at the house, there were no lights. Of course, it was still daytime, so I wasn’t expecting them to be flashing, but they should have been up. There was a wreath on the door, but it was solid green. Dull.
As soon as Uncle Desmond got most of the way to the front door, I went knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock. And waited. I was thinking Sookie wasn’t there because it took forever for her to open up, but when I saw her I understood why she was going so slowly. She was as big as a whale!
“You�
�re having another baby?” I said. Sookie and Sam the shifter had two kids already, which seemed like plenty.
“Well, hey, Diantha,” she said, sounding kind of exasperated. Probably because of being so big. “You guessed it—I’m pregnant.” She looked over my shoulder. “Hey there, Mr. Cataliades.”
“The warmest of seasons’ greetings, Sookie,” he said, with a little half bow.
Uncle Desmond is Sookie’s sponsor, which is like a godfather only with no god involved. Another reason I like Sookie is because my cousins hate their father being around her worse than they hate him working with me. At least I’m half demon. Sookie’s mostly human. Uncle Desmond gave her telepathy when she was born, which would be cool to have, but I like having speed better. Besides, she can’t read supe minds, and why would I want to waste time reading human minds?
Sookie said, “My, you’re looking festive today, Diantha.”
“ThanksgoingtoapartyandIwantedtogetintheholidaymood.” I took a breath and said, “Thanks. I’m going to a party and I wanted to get in the holiday mood.” I wear short skirts and leggings because they don’t get in my way while I run. These leggings were green and red striped and my skirt was red with white polka dots. I couldn’t find a red or green shirt so I wore a purple tank top under a white faux-fur vest. My hair was more orange than the red I’d meant to dye it, but it didn’t show much because I had on a Santa Claus hat with leopard-pattern trim and green and gold sequins. My sneakers were plain silver sparkly high-tops, which are blander than I like, but they go with everything.
“Well, you sure nailed it,” Sookie said. “Would y’all like to come in?”
Uncle Desmond bowed again while I went on inside.
“Sookie, you want me to put this stuff under the tree?” I looked around. “Where’s the tree?” Not only was there no great big Christmas tree, but none of the other decorations I was used to were up, either. No tinsel in sight.
“Sam hasn’t— We haven’t had time to put it up yet.”
“Isn’t Christmas Eve, like, now?”
Sookie’s smile was looking kinda forced, but she said, “There’s still time. You can just leave those on the table.”
“Sure thing.”
“You’re looking radiant, my dear,” Uncle Desmond said, which was a lie. She had bags under her eyes, and her hair was hanging like something dead. “I was so pleased to hear about the new addition to the family. Diantha, you recall me telling you and the rest of the family the good news at Thanksgiving?”
“Suresuresure.” I was lying, too. He’d given a long drawn-out speech or toast or something, but I’d been busy eating.
A minute later, I heard what sounded like a crowd slamming down the stairs, so I jumped in front of Uncle Desmond. Not that I thought Sookie would have hellhounds in her house, but better safe than sorry. But it was just Sookie’s kids, Neal and Jennings. Neal knew me well enough to give me a fist bump, but little Jennings would only look at me. I think he was trying to read my mind—Uncle Desmond had given him telepathy, too—but it wouldn’t work on me and the kid was confused.
“Jennings,” Sookie said in the tone Uncle Desmond uses on me a lot, and he stopped trying. “You probably don’t remember, but this is Mr. Cataliades and this is his niece, Diantha.”
“Pleasedtomeetya!” I said, and stuck out my fist. He thought about it a long time, but he gave me a quick bump in return.
“Would y’all like something to drink?” Sookie asked, and when Uncle Desmond said something polite, she said something polite back.
Uncle Desmond and I sat on the couch, Neal followed after his mother, and Jennings stood and stared at us. I stared back until I got bored. By then Sookie was back with apple cider and cookies. Sookie makes great Christmas cookies, but these were Oreos. Not even the winter ones with red stuff in the middle—just plain old Oreos. Of course Uncle Desmond ate them as if they were petit fours or something like that.
“How have you been, Sookie?” he asked.
“Oh, fine,” she said brightly, but even I could tell she was lying.
Uncle Desmond raised one eyebrow, which was his way of reminding her that he could read her mind, even if she couldn’t read his.
She got kind of red in the face. “Boys, why don’t y’all go upstairs and play while we grown-ups talk.”
They did, but Jennings kept staring at me as long as he could. I stuck out my tongue at him ’cause I was a grown-up and he wasn’t.
Sookie said, “I should know better than to pretend with you, Mr. Cataliades. To tell the truth, it’s been a rough month.”
“Vampires attacking?” I asked. “Weres? Fae coming out of that portal in your backyard?”
“What? No! Just normal things. Normal human things, anyway. Sam’s had a bad cold since Thanksgiving that he can’t seem to shake, and the doctor doesn’t want me working this late in my pregnancy so we had to hire a new waitress, and business at Merlotte’s has been slow. We usually do well around the holidays, but not this year. Sam has been working extra hours even though he ought to be resting, and so a few things have slid.” She kind of shook herself. “But here I am whining on Christmas Eve when I ought to be thinking about how lucky I am. The boys are doing great, and soon we’ll have a new baby.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “It’s a girl. I’m going to name her after Gran.”
“And the pregnancy is going well?” Uncle Desmond said.
“Just the usual swollen feet, and being tired a lot.”
Just then the front door opened and Sookie’s husband, Sam, came in. “Sookie? Is somebody here?”
Sam looked even worse than Sookie did, but where she was big he looked like he’d lost weight. His hair is always reddish, but this time his nose was, too, and he sounded stuffed up. That explained why he hadn’t known it was Uncle Desmond and me—normally he’d have scented us as soon as he got out of his pickup.
“Hey,” he said, sounding about as welcoming as my cousins did when I came over. He’s not overly fond of us, but usually he fakes it better. “I brought some food for y’all to have for lunch—figured the boys could use something other than a sandwich for a change.” He held up a paper bag that said Merlotte’s.
Sookie looked like he’d slapped her and said, “I was going to make them some soup.”
“Now you can save that for later,” he said, maybe sounding kind of sorry. “I didn’t know we had company or I’d have brought more food.”
“That’s very kind of you,” Uncle Desmond said, “but as a matter of fact Diantha and I were just leaving. We just stopped by to drop off some presents, but I’m afraid we have to be on our way. Christmas is such a bustling time.”
“Too bad,” Sam lied. He put the bag on the table and said, “I gotta get back to work.”
“Can’t you stay long enough to eat with us?” Sookie asked. “I thought you and the boys could go out in the woods after lunch and pick out a tree.”
It sounded pathetic, and Sookie isn’t like that usually. It made me mad, and from the way Uncle Desmond’s jaw tightened, it made him even madder.
But Sam just said, “I can’t—we’re short a waitress for the lunch rush.” And off he went, not even kissing Sookie good-bye.
I knew Sookie was trying not to cry, so Uncle Desmond and I left so she could be alone.
As we went out to the car, I said, “I could go find a tree and chop it down if you’ll tell me what to look for. Wouldn’t take long.”
“No, there’s more wrong here than a missing Christmas tree.” Uncle Desmond was quiet in the car, not even opening up his laptop. When we were in what passes for downtown Bon Temps, he said, “Diantha, pull into that McDonald’s parking lot.”
“Since when do you like McDonald’s? Whoever calls it fast food is totally lying.”
“I’m not interested in the menu. I’m concerned about Sookie.”
“
Being so big?”
“Her size is normal for her stage of gestation. It’s her marriage that concerns me. Sam working long hours, not having the time to assist her in the decoration of her house, the monetary shortfall. I fear that he may be straying.”
“You mean screwing around?”
He nodded. “Normally, of course, Sookie would detect any such activities, even with the unusual thought patterns of a shifter, but while she’s pregnant, her powers are not up to their usual level. Sam could easily be concealing a paramour.”
“Then he really is Shifty Sam.”
“We don’t know that, but if he is, steps will have to be taken. As Sookie’s sponsor, I would be remiss in allowing such disrespect.” Uncle Desmond may be polite, but that doesn’t stop him from taking people apart. Literally. “Were it any other time, I would investigate the situation personally, but Eudokia is expecting me at their holiday ball tonight and I would rather not disappoint her. Would you be willing to stay in Bon Temps overnight and see what you can find out?”
“Suresuresure.”
“It would mean missing the ball.”
“Great! Your daughters are asshats and Eudokia’s parties suck.”
“I fear that you may be right, but family comes with certain obligations.”
Since I wasn’t going to be at the sucky party, Uncle Desmond gave me my present early. It was a leather messenger bag made up of a zillion different-colored pieces, and stuffed with all kinds of things that might come in handy while I was delivering messages and doing the other kinds of work I did for him. Demons aren’t big on hugging or fist bumps, so I slugged him on the shoulder to thank him.
Then he gave me a bunch of money and a credit card for expenses, told me to call him as soon as I knew anything, and climbed into the front seat.
My first stop was Merlotte’s, the bar that Sookie and Sam owned. Uncle Desmond had offered to drop me off on his way out of town, but I said I’d rather run. The weather was perfect for running—dry and a little chilly—and I could get there faster on foot anyway.
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