Mistletoe & Mischief

by Selena Page

  Staring down the barrel of her own Glock wasn’t exactly the way Alynia Caprice-Tintreach expected her evening to end. Doing it while naked in her grandparents’ hot tub, while sitting next to her equally sky-clad husband, was like adding insult to wrecked-evening injury. The cherry on top of the crap sundae, however, was the fact that the assailant making with the whole hands-up routine wasn’t any bigger than the grip of said 9mm.

  Perfectly formed, like a doll come to life, the woman was little more than five inches tall. Though apparently possessed of a supernatural strength outside of her miniscule frame, Alynia noted with dismay. Matchstick thin arms wrapped around the grip of the gun, fingers laced around the trigger like someone hugging a favorite stuffed animal. Her expression showed just as much effort, as if the gun weighed as little as said stuffed-animal.

  “Faeries,” Alynia groaned aloud. Why hadn’t she studied up on faeries when given the chance? Especially since her grandmother warned her about the little deal her grandfather had made.

  Oh, wait. She’d tried. Until her husband spied the hot tub in the back of the house, and focusing on anything else with his lips roving every inch of her throat, with his voice whispering within her mind of what he wanted to do to her in the hot bubbling waters was--

  --was not what she should be focusing on at that moment, dammit.

  The perp in question’s alabaster skin glowed in the moonlight, as if snow had been made into flesh and then kissed by the first of the moon’s rays. Strands of deep purple and dark blue hair floated in the night breeze, silver antennae bobbing in that breeze like little islands in a sea of liquid ice. A toga-like gown of filmy black cloth covered her petite frame, though Alynia couldn’t tell if it was cloth or shadows stitched together. Come to think of it, the diminutive fairy’s build was so slight, so delicate, anything but shadows might be too much for her to handle. Aside from the fact that she held Alynia’s gun, that is.

  The gun was an artifact, a device of pure magic encased in a thin shell of tangibility which happened to resemble a standard-issue police sidearm. A gift from her husband shortly after their marriage, to ensure she’d never go unarmed again and that her own weapon would never be used against her. Point of fact, it shouldn’t work for anyone except for her.

  Apparently, the fae played by their own rules.

  “Your grandmother did try to warn us,” Iowin’s voice cut through her mental freak-out with what sounded like a helpful tone. “She mentioned faeries running rampant all over the property, and we’d take fate in our own hands going outside.”

  If she didn’t know any better, she’d swear her husband was highly amused with their predicament. Given he wasn’t the suicidal type; she quickly chalked up the benefit of the doubt in his corner. Because there wasn’t anything amusing about the fact that this Tinker Bell wannabe had somehow managed to do the impossible.

  Tinker Bell activated Alynia’s gun, the quiet hum coming from the weapon let them both know she’d chosen a setting of pure electricity. One didn’t need a college degree to understand electricity plus hot tub plus humans equaled bad.

  Yeah, there wasn’t anything amusing about the situation in the slightest.

  “You humans are so odd,” the miniscule creature shook her head, jeweled antennae swaying with the motion. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand how you can stand being around each other.”

  “Excuse me?” Alynia snapped. “We’re not five inches tall and holding innocent people hostage with their own weapons, lady.”

  “Nia,” Iowin warned. “I believe she’s one of the Wee Folk. Best not to ruffle feathers until we know what we’re dealing with.”

  Her teensy doll-like face scrunched up in disapproval. “I’m not a lady. I’d tell you my name, but I don’t think your big dumb lips could pronounce it correctly. If you must call me anything, call me Kalariel.”

  That earned a set of raised eyebrows. “Kalariel?” Alynia shook her head. “Tolkien elvish? Is that the natural language you speak?”

  It was Iowin’s turn to whip his head around, astonishment plain on his face. “You know Tolkien elvish?”

  Alynia shifted her shoulders uncomfortably. “It was offered at my college, okay, and I figured it would be an easy ‘A.’ So I took it.”

  “Big mistake believing that. You do realize the language is made up of other lost languages, many of which--”

  “I was there, Iowin,” she growled, keeping her hands above her head and her eyes on the gun. “I know the history. And it wasn’t as big a mistake as you’re making right now. Don’t you think we have more pressing topics at hand?”

  He had the grace to blush faintly. “Good point. You just surprised me. You never told me you spoke elvish. I’m rather put out.”

  Kalariel floated upward on her crystalline wings, motes of light dancing in the air as she did so. The gun bobbed and weaved in time to her excited bouncing, and Alynia did her best not to shriek like a child. That weapon had a hair trigger on the best of days!

  “You recognize my name?” Kalariel giggled in delight. “That makes me happy, and is probably the most intelligent thing you’ve said all evening. It means ‘Daughter of the Light.’ Mr. Tolkien was so kind to give it to me when he couldn’t pronounce my real name with human lips. Kalariel is close enough.”

  “Ignoring the fact that you name-dropped one of my favorite authors,” Iowin cut in, no small amount of admiration and jealousy peppering his tone. “What can we do for you, Miss Kalariel?”

  The polished sapphire chips that served as her eyes twinkled in the moonlight, a fair approximation of a human blinking several times in response. “Oh, yes. That’s right. I’m here for a reason. My Queen wants to know why you’re trespassing in her Pool of Pleasure.”

  They shared another glance and Iowin shrugged. “This is new to me. I’ve never heard of a faerie pool of pleasure.”

  Kalariel stomped one dainty foot. “The Pool of Pleasure, you giant oaf. The place where you come to share each other by the light of the moon, to take blessings from the Winter Solstice and the Queen. You have to know that, otherwise why would you dive into the sacred waters on such a cold night as this?”

  “Okay, Light Lady,” Alynia glared. “You’re going to have to dumb this down to human standards. What in the name of all that’s holy are you babbling about? We’re in my grandfather’s hot tub, on his property. You’re the one trespassing.”

  Kalariel stared at Alynia as if she were being dense on purpose. “Not on this side of Winter’s Veil. Has it even dawned on you why you’re not freezing your giant naked selves to pieces in all this snow?”

  It was a fair question, and one she hadn’t considered but should have. Something had been off the moment she and Iowin rounded the corner behind the private screen. The air itself appeared warmer, clearer, and more comforting than it should have felt. She’d ignored it, though, believing it nostalgia playing remember-when games with her psyche. The sensations taking her back to her childhood when ambient temperatures took a backseat to the fun one had sneaking around in the fresh snow to do forbidden things. Only then, the forbidden thing was making a snowman well after bedtime.

  The hot tub itself was little more than a giant barrel cut in half midway up and lined with several layers of ceramics magically fired to hardness. An old-fashioned copper rod heater beneath the barrel kept the waters piping hot, and a motor that had seen better days in the 1950’s swirled the water to frothy little waves. Climbing into it felt a bit like diving into a hot mug of beer. But it was deliciously relaxing, and Iowin couldn’t resist the idea of a ‘soak’ before bed. And by soak, he’d meant sex. A plan to which she’d been all about until now.

  The last thing on her mind at that moment had been the freaking weather.

  Iowin’s eyes swept to the left and right, a fluttering of magic dancing through their shared bond, and his shoulders sank a bit. “Kalariel’s right, beloved. This looks like our home, but it doesn’t read that way magically. By all accoun
ts, our hands should be red and burning from the cold. Mine aren’t.”

  “Neither are mine,” Alynia groaned through clenched teeth. “Don’t tell me we’ve time traveled again. We just got back to our time.”

  “No, not time traveled,” Kalariel supplied with a smile. “Dimension jumped is more accurate. Or dimension walked, rather. And, might I add, you came here willingly. When your grandfather asked for our help with the Christmas decorations, he didn’t realize the price he paid. To help him, we thinned the Winter Veil between the Fae realms and the human. So where your grandfather’s hot tub is now…” she trailed off.

  “Is the exact same location of the Queen’s pleasure palace,” Iowin finished.

  “The Queen’s Pool of Pleasure,” Kalariel corrected primly, the crystal of her wings tinkling with aggravation. “The Queen sent me to inform you that you are trespassing on her private domain. As such, she demands a payment from you.”

  “What kind of payment?” Alynia eyed her carefully.

  Kalariel flashed them a devilish smile. “Nothing more than you’ve already come here to do.”

  She and Iowin exchanged one final look. Oh, this had bad written all over it.

  So Kalariel and her people weren’t pixies, weren’t Tinker Bell’s kin, or anything of that sort. They were Will o’ the Wisps, a sort of faerie creature made of pure light. Wisps, as they called themselves in the human tongue, had a history of either guiding the pure of heart to safety or the sinful to wander forever aimlessly between the worlds of faerie. Kalariel was kind enough to provide that fact first, just in case Alynia and Iowin had the foolish idea of trying to run the hundred or so feet back to the main house. In the realm of faerie, distance was in the Eye of the Magic Holder, rather than the eye of the beholder. Meaning that if Kalariel wanted there to be a million miles between the hot tub and the back door to the house, then a million miles would simply exist there.

  Alynia bit her lower lip to keep from screaming in frustration.

  Kalariel giggled, and signaled for two other wisps to come and join the merry conversation.

  “I am called Crystal,” the first of the newcomers announced herself, living up to the name by appearing to be constructed from nothing but clear crystal.

  “And I am Golden Boy,” the last greeted as he landed, the solid thunk sound of his feet on the lip of the tub giving credence to his name, too.

  As in, made of nothing but solid gold.

  Alynia eyed the glowing trio of wisps currently perched on the lip of the tub, staring back at her. They stared at her expectantly, waiting for her answer to the Queen’s proposed ‘payment’ for trespassing as outlined by Kalariel.

  “Nope, not doing this,” Alynia snapped.

  “Nia,” Iowin sighed. “We won’t get home without their help. We’ll never make it across the Winter Veil if they won’t guide us.”

  “I’m not letting this walking air freshener,” she jerked her thumb at Crystal. “Take over my body so she can screw her husband.”

  Kalariel made a faux-retching sound, and even that sounded cute coming from her.

  “Don’t you puke on my gun!” Alynia growled.

  Kalariel coughed instead, and Alynia gasped in horror as a shower of iridescent glitter exited the wretched creature’s lips and all but embedded itself in the grip. “Sorry,” Kalariel tilted her head to the side, patting the gun affectionately. “Or is that sorry-not-sorry?”

  Alynia rubbed her hands over her face. What she wouldn’t give for a can of Raid and a giant fly swatter. “Is there really no other way?”

  “No,” Crystal sang, lacing her fingers with Golden Boy’s. “My husband and I are fascinated by humans.”

  “Barf,” Kalariel groaned.

  Crystal ignored her, taking flight and hovering before Alynia’s eyes. “We want to understand the pleasure humans have with each other. You are married to your human, so I am not asking you to do anything you haven’t done with him before.”

  “Forgive me for asking,” Iowin interjected. “But do your people not… share yourselves with each other?”

  “That isn’t something your puny human brains can handle,” Kalariel smirked.

  “It’s a fair question, mother,” Crystal smiled gently. “I will answer them.”

  “Your mother may have a point,” Golden Boy interjected, his lips curling away from the words as he spoke. Almost as if he didn’t enjoy agreeing with Kalariel, either. “It may be easier to show them.”

  “If their dumb brains can process the information,” Kalariel floated back to the rim of the tub, tipping the gun on its side and using the triggers and trigger guard as a seat, nearly causing Alynia to leap out of the tub and swat her. She propped one perfect elbow on one adorable knee and looked absolutely, utterly bored. “Remember, my daughter, they think in limited three dimensions.”

  Will o’ the Wisp or not, Alynia recognized the soul-deep expression of exasperation with a parent when she saw one. “Mother,” Crystal rolled her eyes. “Please let me do this on my own. It’s my favor from our Queen.”

  Kalariel held up her hands in a pose of surrender. “I’m only here to offer advice.”

  Golden Boy coughed into his fist, in a way that sounded suspiciously like ‘meddling mother.’

  That almost earned a grin from Alynia. Almost.

  Crystal floated backward, Golden Boy rising to join her in the air. They hovered inches apart, doing little more than staring at each other. Until light emanated from the center of Crystal’s chest, mirrored in Golden’s. Pure white light, unfiltered by clouds or atmosphere or human pollution. The most beautiful manifestation of unadulterated light she’d ever witnessed.

  The light pulsed with its own heartbeat, growing brighter and larger with each proverbial pump until it was too bright to stand. Alynia shielded her eyes, turning away and taking with her the final image of the light consuming them until it was impossible to tell where one wisp ended and the other began.

  “Like watching stars make love,” Iowin whispered in awe.

  “It’s beautiful,” she agreed.

  “I don’t understand,” Iowin glanced over to Crystal.

  “Called it!” Kalariel interjected. “Told you human brains couldn’t get it.”

  Everyone ignored her.

  “What’s there not to understand?” Crystal blinked.

  “If that’s how you share yourselves, why would you want to… do it our way?”

  “Why not?”

  “That’s not an answer,” Alynia tried, the words falling lame even to her own ears.

  “I am the daughter of the Queen’s Light. It is my right to speak when and to whomever I want, however I want. If I deem it an answer, so it is.”

  “And let me guess,” Alynia deadpanned. “The Queen’s personal night-light is Kalariel.”

  “Guilty as charged!” the night-light in question smiled broadly. “Now are you going to agree to this or not? I do have other responsibilities to tend to, other than deciding the fate of two hapless, helpless humans trespassing in the Queen’s own--”

  “I get it, I get it,” Alynia slid down beneath the bubbling waters, letting out the scream of frustration all but burning inside her belly. She surfaced, brushing her hair out of her face. “Fine, I agree.”

  “Wait!” Iowin cried. “What happens to us when our bodies are--?”

  “Too late,” Kalariel sang, springing into the air and blowing a handful of what looked like more glitter straight into their faces. “The dumb one agreed. Deal is done.”

  Reality vanished in a shower of silver sparks.

  “I have wings.”

  Alynia wasn’t certain she heard that last part correctly. “Wha…”

  “I have wings!”

  It sounded like her husband, although the near childlike zeal in his voice was beyond confusing. The last time he’d made sounds like that had been during the release of the new Star Wars movie. Given what they’d just agreed to, the last thing she expected was joy
coming from him. There was a crazy, spiteful little sprite out there with her gun and her body, doing only god knew--

  Wait. Did he just say he had wings?

  Alynia cracked open one eye slowly, adjusting to the wickedly bright light of the moon. It was so huge in the sky that it had to be faked. A prop. Somehow, she’d been transported to the set of another made-for-TV Christmas movie, and any minute now an animatronic Rudolph was going to pass right across that imitation moon. But it wasn’t Rudolph, it was her husband.

  Only he was made of gold. Not golden in color, but made of pure elemental gold.

  And he was flying.

  Well, doing somersaults in the air, really. Grinning like a child.

  “Nia, I have WINGS!”

  She sat up swiftly, staring around at the sea of unbroken snow all around her. They were no longer in the hot tub, that was evident. Judging from the tops of the tree branches visible to her eyes, she was willing to bet they were on the roof of the house. From below, sounds filtered up toward them. Iowin’s voice, she was certain, though she didn’t understand the words… until she understood the second voice answering him wasn’t making words with that mouth. No, the sounds the pair were making, which sang out above the sloshing of hot bubbly water, were never meant to be words.

  “I do not sound like that while having sex!” she blushed

  Iowin executed a perfect double flip before landing next to her and peering over the edge of the roof. The grin that lit up his face was a thing of pure beauty. Alynia peered, too, and wished to god she hadn’t. Was that really her face when she orgasmed?

  “I do not sound like that when having sex,” she tried again, faintly.

  “Yes you do,” he laughed. “Those two are pretty fast learners. I wonder if they have our memories if they know how your body loves that position. Especially when I get your leg up and stick my--”

  “If you finish that statement, Iowin Tintreach, I’m going to knock your tiny block off with my tiny little fist. I don’t know what strength we have in these bodies, but I’m willing to bet it’s substantial as compared to our size, given how Kalariel was able to handle my gun.”