I shake my head and venture farther down the street. A flying cupid decides to use me for target practice. Without pausing in stride, I freeze the arrow just as he loses it from his bow. It falls and hits the ground, shattering into a satisfyingly large number of pieces.
The cupid starts to notch another arrow, but I give him the briefest glance with the Eye and it sends him fluttering off in the other direction.
It isn’t long before I reach the Siren’s Song. It’s a wine and dessert bar with a spiraling staircase in the back leading to an upper floor. The place is deserted except for a blonde girl tidyng up, her back turned to me.
“We’re closed,” she calls without looking at me. “Come back later.”
“That’s alright,” I say, striding toward her. “I’m not here for refreshments.”
“Then what,” she says as she turns toward me, “exactly, are you here...well, well! Aren’t you a handsome devil?”
If she’s taken with me, it’s not half as much as I am with her. The Count’s photograph did not even begin to do Luprecalia justice. It’s her standing before me and she is an absolute knockout! Golden-haired and blue-eyed with bronze skin, her beauty is at the opposite end of the spectrum from Dee’s, but it’s every bit as striking.
I try to shake it off and play it cool. It works, more or less.
“Lupercalia Lovelace?”
She closes the distance between us and raises her hand in greeting. I take it in mine. Her skin feels as soft as a baby’s.
“Honey,” she says, ogling me with her eyes, “you may call me whatever you want.”
“I’m Frost.”
I release her hand and take a few steps back, pretending like I’m surveying the room so that she doesn’t realize the gesture for what it really is—a retreat.
“Don’t they have first names where you come from?” she teases.
“Frost,” I say with finality.
“You’re one cool customer, Frost,” she says, still teasing.
“Nice place you have here,” I say.
She closes the gap between us once more, purposely invading my space. Suddenly, it feels like summer in here.
“It pays the bills,” she says. “How about one on the house?”
“Pardon me?”
“A drink. We’re closed, so it would be on me.”
“Eggnog,” I say, relieved to have an excuse to get her away from me, “heavy on the nog.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
She disappears into a back room and I breathe a heavy sigh of relief. A moment later, she comes back holding a tall decanter and two slim, jeweled goblets.
“I’m afraid all I have is dessert wine.”
I nod. She sits down at a table, motioning me for me to join her. I do so, reluctantly. At least the table will be between us.
“So,” she says as she pours us both a glass, “what does bring you to the Siren’s Song?”
“Your boyfriend.” I say matter-of-factly.
“I’m afraid I don’t follow you.” She bats her eyelids invitingly. “I’m perfectly, wonderfully single.”
I take a drink of the wine. It’s warm and melts the frost in my throat.
“Larry Talbot.”
She straightens in her seat at the mention of his name.
“Ah, yes. Larry. What has he done now? Stolen something like he stole my heart?”
“Kidnapping.”
She looks shocked. “You don’t say? I knew he was a bad apple, in the fun kind of way. But I never dreamed he was capable of kidnapping someone!”
She throws up her hands. “Not that I’m surprised. I always did have a weakness for men with an edge.”
She leans in so close I can smell her perfume. It’s like roses and it leaves me spellbound.
“Maybe that’s why I’m finding myself liking you so much.”
I lean in. “Lupercalia?”
She leans in so close our noses almost touch. “Yeah?”
“Where is he?”
“Who?”
“Where’s—?”
I snap straight in my chair as a loud thump sounds from upstairs. One look into her guilty eyes tells me I’ve been snow jobbed!
Lupercalia’s fancy with me is all an act to keep me busy—occupied so Larry can make a run for it. I’d like to give her a piece of my mind, but I don’t have time.
I bolt for the stairs and then take them two at a time. I kick open the first door I come to in time to see Larry’s tail disappearing out a window. I run into the room and step over the lamp his tail must have accidentally knocked to the floor as he was making his escape. Its fall must have been what we heard below.
I duck my head out the window and see Larry leaping gracefully to the street a full three stories below. I curse and then fling myself through the window.
The wind whistles in my ears for a moment and then I’m falling through the goo of a marshmallow-bus stop. The few godlings waiting for a ride look on at me wide-mouthed in surprise. I must look ridiculous, covered in marshmallow goo, but I don’t have time to worry about that. Larry is getting away!
He lopes down the street, frightened nymphs and cupids scattering before him. He’s heading for the shore. I’ve got to catch him before he reaches the water and escapes back to H-Town.
It’s too hot for ice magic, so I snatch a bow and quiver of arrows from one of the cupids Larry unsettled. The cupid regains his senses and starts shouting for the police, but he’s too late. I’m already two blocks away.
I knock an arrow and fire in mid-run. It goes wide. Larry’s almost to the shore. I have to make this one count. I draw another arrow and shoot. It misses Larry by inches. He swerves, realizing he’s under fire.
Larry’s at the beach now. Time has almost run out. I stop in the middle of the road and knock an arrow. I draw back the bow, blocking out the terrain, the honking horns, the nervous yells of the onlookers. I exhale, zeroing in on Larry.
Then I fire.
The arrow whistles away and strikes home in the back of Larry’s leg. His leg goes all rubbery, full of soft, warm emotion. It doesn’t stop him, but slows him down enough that I should be able to catch him easily.
Then, before I realize what’s happening, I feel my arms being yanked behind me so that candied handcuffs can slap over my wrists.
“Hey? What the—?”
“You have the right to remain silent,” one of the police-sprites taking me into custody says over the buzz of his heart-shaped walkie-talkie, “If you choose to give up that right—!”
I look back down the beach and see the tip of Larry’s tail disappear beneath the waves.
“No! No! No!” I plead, “You’re letting him get away!”
“Oh, don’t worry,” one of the other police-sprites says. “We’ve got our man, alright!”
“—Nutcrackers!”
To the North Pole to see his pal Fred,
Is where Private Eye Jack Frost then fled.
He badly needed a solid lead,
To on the werewolf Talbot, get a bead.
“We can track him down,” Fred said, “I’ll just bet,
“Doing a search on the internet.
“Ah, now we have him. Oh yeah, here we are.
“It appears his girlfriend runs a wine bar.”
“I’ll pay her a visit,” Jack said, “See if Talbot’s there.
“With me looking for him, he can’t hide anywhere.
At the H-Town Fun Park, Jack took a ride,
Down the Tunnel of Love to Valentine-side.
He met Talbot’s girl. Her name was Lovelace.
She was a looker, full of poise and grace.
But her seductive exterior was all just a sham.
Talbot was there lying low, hiding, on the lam.
Through the streets, Jack gave chase,
Pursuing Talbot in a speedy foot race!
With a cupid’s bow and arrow, he slowed the wolf down.
But then the Valentine police tackle
d Jack to the ground!
Chapter 13
“I love you, man!”
I roll my eyes and slide down the bench, trying to put as much space between me and the Dionysian godling confessing his feelings for me. He just as quickly closes the gap, this time putting an arm around my shoulder.
I try not to get too angry with him as he’s riddled full of police-issue cupid arrows and therefore can’t help himself.
But it does little good.
“No, really,” he says, “I. Love. You. Man!”
“Oh yeah? Well, love me from over there!” I tell him, having little choice but to give him a bit of the Eye. It snaps him to his senses and he goes scurrying to the other side of our jail cell. “Hmph,” I snort, “Imprisoned behind bars of steel-hard chocolate. How embarrassing.”
“Frost!”
My other cellmates glance at me as the guard calls my name.
“Front and center. You have a visitor.”
In a small act of rebellion, I make them wait a second. Then I slowly get up and walk to the jail cell entrance. The guard opens the door and escorts me down the bubblegum-pink hallway to a series of gumdrop-covered booths. Dee sits on the booths’ other side, patiently awaiting me. I take at a seat at one and she joins me. Through the window separating us, I see she’s holding a bouquet of roses.
“For me?” I ask. It takes her a second to realize I’m talking about the rose bouquet in her hand.
“These? Since I’ve arrived here, I’ve been given at least a dozen every time I walk into a new room. But a girl knows never to turn down roses. You should’ve bought me more!”
“Would it have made a difference?”
“Maybe.”
“Story of my life.”
“What happened, Jack? How did you get inside here?”
“I went to see Talbot’s girlfriend—”
“This Lupercalia you mentioned over the globe? Should I be jealous?”
“Hush. You know better than that. I went to see her and found our wolf hiding upstairs. He ran. I made chase.”
“We’ll send some feds out to pick her up.”
“Make sure they’re female.”
“Why?”
“No reason.”
“So? How does a friendly visit land you in the big house?”
“—Talbot was getting away. I had to do the gift swap with a cupid for his bow and arrow. Put one in Talbot’s leg. The cops nabbed me for theft before I could collar him.”
“Where did Talbot go?”
“H-Town. You two probably passed each other on your way over.”
“Hardy-har-har. I talked to Father Time when you called. He’s pulling what strings he can, but this falls under Loveland jurisdiction.”
“Where does that leave me?”
“I’m afraid you’re going to have to sit tight until he can get those favors called in. Shouldn’t be longer than a century or two.”
“And me without my toothbrush.”
“These things take time, Jack.”
“Well, time we’ve got. An eternity’s worth unless I can get out of here and get to finding Pop!”
“Time’s up,” the guard warns from behind me. It’s unclear to me if he’s trying to be ironic.
“I’ve got to go, Jack,” Dee says as she stands. “I’ll keep on his Honor. We’ll have you out of here soon. You’ll see.”
“Yeah.”
“Bye, Jack.”
I watch Dee leave and then return to my cell.
I’m behind bars while the holidayers who kidnapped my father are running free as a reindeer in wintertime. I’m about as low as an elemental can get.
I try to think about what Pop would do in a situation like this. He would’ve had everyone hugging and singing Christmas carols by now—probably have the prisoners begging to serve his sentence for him and the guards falling over themselves to let him go. The man’s just that way—spreads good cheer wherever he goes. To know him, is to love him. I speak from experience.
And that troubles me all the more. I’m half-surprised the jolly fat fellow hasn’t popped up again all on his own, his captor reformed, apologetic, and ready to turn himself in. Whomever is behind all this is one cold-hearted criminal, even by my standards.
Suddenly, thinking about all this, I’m terrified for Pop—of where he is, of what’s being done to him. I’m just about to jump out of my seat and scream and beat the cell bars until they let me out of here when the Christmas Angel speaks from beside me.
“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you, Jack.”
“Hello, Epiphany,” I say, trying to play it cool. It always rattles me when she just appears like this. “Haven’t seen you around in millennia.”
“I’m a busy celestial.” Epiphany folds her white-robed arms. She’s pretty hum-drum by angel standards. No wings or halos. Not even a heavenly glow.
“I can imagine. So, since you’re talking to me and no one else here seems to notice you, can I assume you’ve come to bring the walls tumblin’ down?”
Epiphany chuckles. Her laughter is melodious.
“No, I’m afraid—”
Epiphany notices a prisoner crying in the corner—a Mexican Independence Day revolutionary. She gets up and walks over to him, though he remains oblivious to her presence. She bends down and cups her hand to whisper something into his ear. Immediately his tears dry up and a look of peace spreads over his face.
Moments later, she’s sitting beside me once again. “Now, as I was saying—I’m afraid that, in these modern times, we prefer not to interfere with natural law, or even supernatural law, when possible. A more indirect approach seems to work best for all concerned.”
“Well, ain’t that just holly jolly for me?”
“Don’t fret, Jack. I didn’t say I was going to leave you totally without support.”
“If by support you mean anything other than a lock pick, then it’s nutcrackers to me.”
“Oh, Jack. So glum. Perhaps you just need to take a closer look at what tools you already have available.”
“Tools? I could freeze those bars all I wanted and it wouldn’t do any good. They’re magically reinforced. And you wouldn’t know it to look at them, but those guards are too strong-willed for the Eye. Believe me. I tried. I’m lucky they left me in here with the clothes on my—!”
I turn to look Epiphany directly in the eye, but she’s already gone, her work here done.
What an idiot I am! The guards left me my clothes, specifically my stocking-fedora and trench-cloak. Now, if I can just somehow trick the guards into opening the door, I can go dim and slip out of here!
I stand up and sigh, knowing what I must do. I pick out the biggest, meanest-looking prisoner I can find—a man-sized groundhog standing upright on its hind-legs. I waltz up to him.
“What are you looking at?” I ask, bowing my chest out at him.
He ignores me and continues swinging his head nervously from side-to-side, eyeing the floor.
“I said, what are you looking—?”
“Please tell me you haven’t seen it!” He says without taking his eyes off the floor.
“Seen what?”
“My shadow. I had them lock me up to get away from it, but it’s tricky! I always have to be on the lookout.”
I turn away, realizing that I’m not going to get anywhere with this ‘fraidy-cat. Then inspiration strikes and I turn back.
“Great Santa’s beard!” I say pointing at the groundhog’s clawed feet. “There it is!”
It works better than I could’ve possibly hoped. The groundhog doesn’t even wait to ask if I’m talking about his shadow. He simply bolts in terror, climbing over our fellow prisoners for the other side of the room and doing a wonderful job of riling them up in the process. The next thing I know, there’s a full-scale brawl going on inside the jail cell.
I back into a corner and go dim as guards in full riot gear come charging into the cell, cupid bows strung behind heart-shaped shields. I let them pa
ss and slip out unnoticed.
Two shakes of a snow globe later, I’m off shore and swimming for H-Town.
Jack Frost sat in jail, trying to think.
“I can’t believe I’m here, on ice, in the clink!”
“Frost, you have a visitor,” the prison guard said.
Then down the hallway, Jack Frost he led.
Dee sat waiting at a visitation booth.
“We’re trying to free you, Jack. I swear it’s the truth!
“Father Time’s on it. He’ll call in a favor.
“He’ll have you of here, sooner or later.
“It may take a millennium or more,
“But time we have, centuries galore!”
Jack returned to his cell, feeling very sick.
He needed to get out of here and free Saint Nick!”
That’s when the Christmas Angel before Jack appeared.
Her reputation among the elves was highly revered.
“Tell me, please,” Jack said, “Are you here to spring me?”
“Free thy self,” the angel said, “the means is with thee.”
The angel was gone as quick as she spoke.
But right then Jack remembered his concealing trench-cloak.
He caused a ruckus and the guards opened his cell door.
Then he slipped away to leave Loveland’s shore.
Chapter 14
“J!” Fred says, shocked to see me when he opens his front door.
“It ain’t exactly safe for me out here in the night, Fred.”
“Yo,” Fred says, stepping back to let me inside, “Mi casa, su casa, homie.”
I enter and collapse on Fred’s couch, exhausted from all the duck and cover on the way back to the Pole. Traveling on Flash wouldn’t have been exactly low key, after all.
Fred shuts the door behind us.
“What in Cringle’s name have you been up to, J? Your mugshot’s everywhere. Even the feds are looking for you!”
Long Silent Night Page 6