Sugar, Spice, and Shifters: A Touch of Holiday Magic

by Élianne Adams

  “Who do you usually guard? Most of you guys have assigned Afótama personnel you’re supposed to stick to, right?”

  “I mostly guard the older ladies at the executive mansion, but they ain’t there. Travelin’ right now, and they didn’t need me to go with them.”

  He was happy to have downtime, even if it drove Christina a little nuts. That baby had shot her nerves all to hell, and Finn’s constant movement made her even more anxious. She knew he couldn’t help it—she’d said so. He’d always been that way, but she was running out of stuff to give him to do. So, he needed to find his own ways of keeping busy, and he really didn’t mind the dirt so much. He’d slept on it for almost ten years while out on his own.

  He dropped another plant into a pot. Graciella poured some more soil into the tops of the two he’d filled and carried them over to the rest.

  “If we get a system going here, I might be able to blow this joint in time to see the tree lighting.”

  “What time’s that?”

  “About an hour after sundown.”

  “We’ll make it. Get me some more pots and some more plants.”

  She hustled away, and he slapped his forehead with the heel of his palm and called after her, “Sorry. Please. Didn’t mean to be so dang rude. I forget sometimes. Still not used to dealin’ with folks.”

  She set a big stack of pots beside him and wheeled over the tray bearing the poinsettias awaiting transplant. “Don’t sweat it. I know you guys try hard. Lisa’s always getting on Colt about his public matters, and I see how frustrated he is when he forgets some simple thing.”

  Finn had probably forgotten most things his mama had taught him, if she’d even gotten around to teaching them in the first place. Well-mannered wolves didn’t necessarily get on so well where he was from. “I want to do better. Sound better,” he said. “Christina tries to correct me, and she’s more patient than anyone, but I’m a hopeless case.”

  “Not hopeless. I mean, I’m not saying it’s easy, but if you want to do it, you should try.”

  “I’m gonna. Feel like I should be more professional when I’m workin’ with them folks. Can’t travel with them, or make deals for them like this. Nobody gonna take me serious.”

  “I bet they take you seriously when you’re holding a gun or a knife. They all think you’re good at your job. That’s a fact.”

  “How you know that?”

  She shrugged and nudged a bag of dirt toward him. “Dinner table talk. Colt said you have crazy good long-distance aim.”

  “’Cause of huntin’. He really said that?”

  “Yup.” She knelt beside Finn and tapped a few plants out of their little pots for him. “If it makes you feel any better, both of my parents are first-generation American. All of my grandparents were native Spanish speakers, and so my parents are fluent. Lisa is also fluent, but me—well, I guess by the time my little sister and I were born, they’d all stopped speaking Spanish at home. My Spanish sucks balls. So, you worry about what you sound like. I do, too, when I’m talking to my grandparents. I don’t know all the right words and my grammar is sketchy as hell. But, they’re patient.”

  So was she, best he could tell. Nobody else, hardly, would have been talking to him for as long as she had been.

  That was probably why he followed her around like a lost puppy looking for scraps.

  They potted for a while in silence, working quickly and efficiently—pausing every so often to water a cluster of plants, or count off the finished pots.

  Graciella picked up a little remote control and pointed it somewhere toward the back of the long greenhouse. She flipped through country music stations, soft rock, oldies, and R&B, before finally settling on holiday classics.

  Finn chuckled and knocked some of the dirt off his jeans. “We didn’t have a TV for a long time growing up. I was real surprised to find out a lot of these songs were in movies before they ever hit a record store.”

  “Is where you and Christina came from really that isolated?”

  He grunted. “I mean, you can get to town easy enough, but folks from back home don’t make it easy to go and visit, if you know what I mean.”

  “My pack was suburban, so we were around other people. Hiding in plain sight, I guess.”

  “You like that?”

  She shrugged. “I like the way it is here. The folks over in Norseton know what we are so we don’t have to hide it, but the community is secluded enough that people aren’t really snooping. We can run around as we please.” She snorted. “Buck naked.”

  He damn near dropped his pot. “You been runnin’ around naked?” He’d sure missed out on that if she had been, and he thought he’d been pretty observant. It was hard for him to stop paying attention to her, possibly because he’d latched on to her scent the day Adam had collected them from the airport, and he couldn’t get it out of his nose—or his mind.

  “Nah. But I could run around naked if I wanted to. That’s the point. Don’t you strip down when you have to shift? You’re a full moon shifter, right?”

  “Yep. Just like you.”

  “Or like I would be whenever I get around to taking a mate.”

  “When do you think that’ll be?”

  She raised one eyebrow, and then the other.

  “I mean—you ain’t gotta answer that. I’m just talkin’ about dumb stuff. Don’t pay me no mind.”

  “Are you looking for a mate?” she asked.

  “I haven’t given it any thought.”

  Basically a lie.

  Graciella and her sister Leticia were only released by their old alpha to relocate to Norseton because of an old custom of arranged matings. The girls were supposed to move to Norseton in advance of the parings because their future mates were already there. They hadn’t been, of course. It was just a cover story. If they were ever pressed for resolution by their old alpha—who could technically recall any female of at least age eighteen if she hadn’t been mated—they’d do the damn thing. Finn with Graciella, and Jack with Leticia. Finn had given it plenty of thought, because it was hard not to imagine ‘what-ifs’ in a situation like they were in.

  “If it were up to Lisa, I’d be single until I’m, like, thirty.” Graciella lined up some pots and followed with some dirt.

  “You wanna wait that long?”

  “I don’t have an opinion one way or the other. If it’s right, it’s right, you know?”

  “When it happens, it’ll happen, you mean.”

  “Exactly!”

  “How do you think you’ll know?”

  She scrunched her nose and divided one particularly large plant at the workbench. “That’s a loaded question. I mean, wolves aren’t known for romance.”

  “True.” They mated for practical purposes in the vast majority of partnerships, and Finn didn’t know too many wolf couples beyond the ones at Norseton that had a man and a woman who actually liked each other.

  “Lisa said that with her and Colt, they each had something the other needed. That was in addition to the physical attraction. They didn’t actually like each other very much at first. I think they’re too much alike in some aspects of their personalities. But I dunno.” She shrugged again and tucked the utility knife she’d used to divide the plant into the sheath attached to her belt. “I can’t imagine what I could give to anyone, or what anyone would want from me.”

  Finn could think of some things a man would want, and not all of a carnal variety, either.

  “What happens after the tree lightin’?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. It’s my first holiday season here, just like you. Maybe I’ll hang out at the coffee shop and see if they swapped out the regular latte menu to the one with festive flavors.”

  “Could see a movie. I ain’t been to the movies in a long time.”

  “Are you asking me, or telling me?”

  “Uh—”

  “Because if you’re asking,” she said, “there’s this really stupid-looking comedy I’ve been wanting
to see but have been too busy with coursework and greenhouse stuff. I think there’s a midnight showing.”

  He’d been thinking of something with shoot-em-up action and lots of loud explosions, but if she planned on going and sitting with him, he didn’t see what difference it’d make. He’d certainly be looking at her and not the screen.

  “Is that a date?” he asked. The question was stupid as hell, but he honestly didn’t know. She was probably a hell of a lot more experienced in courtship than he was. He was assuming that was what they were doing…or at least, it was what he was doing. Maybe in five years she’d let him bite her. He could wait.

  She narrowed her eyes and tapped her finger against her chin. “I don’t think werewolves date other werewolves.”

  “Oh. Well, nev—”

  “I mean, I’ve never heard of it happening, anyway. Most are mated before they really know each other, and if that’s not the case, they’re just biding their time as fuck buddies and have no intention of making the arrangement more permanent.”

  Fuck buddies.

  He poured some soil around the stalks of eight waiting plants and blew out a long, ragged exhalation. He was going to have to ask Christina or Anton what the hell he was supposed to do next, because it didn’t seem quite obvious to him.

  “I like the idea of dating,” Graciella said with finality.

  “You do?”

  “Yeah. It’s low-pressure. You get to have a little fun and socialize—see if someone’s compatible.”

  “Most wolves don’t worry too much about compatibility.”

  “Unless they’re hoping for a fated match, but I don’t think I’ll get one of those. That ship sailed when I came here under false pretenses, I think.”

  “So, we’re going on a date?” It’d be his first one ever. She was right. Wolves didn’t date—they just fucked. He could get that from anyone, if that were all he wanted. He wanted more than that from her, if he could get it.

  “With dirt under our nails and in filthy clothes,” she said.

  “Sounds like every other day of my life, then.”

  She laughed. “No need to make it special for me. I might start expecting it.”

  THREE

  Graciella stood on her tiptoes and craned her neck to try to see around the tall Viking-types in front of her. “Crap. I can’t see worth a damn. I wish I would have known we needed to camp out if we wanted to be able to see a seventy-foot tree.”

  “Come here.” Finn backed against the park bench they were near and pointed to the seat. “Climb up and get on my shoulders.”

  “Really?”

  “Come on. Take a good picture of it to send to your folks back home.”

  “They’d love that. They worry so much.”

  “Then come on, girl.” He crouched down a bit, as if he doubted she could reach his summit.

  “Okay. If you drop me, you’re gonna owe me big time.”

  “Not gonna drop you. I’ll be real careful so you’ll come outside the next time I work up the nerve to knock on your door.”

  She climbed onto the bench, slung one leg over his shoulder, took his hands, and let him heave her the rest of the way up. “When did you knock on my door?”

  “I haven’t. The last time I thought about it, Alpha sent me out on a job before I could get there.”

  “What were you going over for?”

  He shrugged. “Dunno. Just wanted to.”

  She fluffed the top of his hair and grinned, glad that he couldn’t see it. She probably looked stupid, smiling like that because of such a casual statement. He was probably just joking with her.

  The tree was being lit in sections and in an unpredictable order, so her eyes didn’t know where to rest. Colors popped and twinkled in her periphery, and wound her attention away to the bottom, then to the top, then the sides. She felt more like a cat than a wolf, with her gaze fixed so steadily on the tree and its twinkling lights.

  “You get your picture?” Finn asked.

  “Oh.” She’d been so distracted that she’d completely forgotten to capture the moment. She pulled her phone out of her back pocket and took a few shots, including some panoramic views of the crowd and the park. Then she handed the phone down to Finn. “Selfie time. You’ve got a better angle from down there.”

  He unhooked his arm from around her leg and held the phone out in front of him, angling it this way and that way to get Graciella in the shot.

  “No, no, lower,” she said. “You need to be in the picture.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re here. You’re part of this memory, so you should be in the picture.”

  “You’ll probably delete it later.”

  “I will not. Not unless I look bad.” She probably did. It’d been a long day. She fluffed her hair a little and rested her chin on top of Finn’s head. “Okay. Take it.”

  He pressed the camera button with his thumb and handed the phone up to her. “That okay?”

  “Boo. You look frightened. I tend to have that effect on people, but pretend you aren’t for the sake of my future self-esteem. Do another one.”

  She handed the phone down yet again and resumed her previous position.

  He hit the button once more and gave her the phone. “Better?”

  His expression was softer. Not a smile, exactly, but a better capture of his livewire personality. His eyes were a bit round, but he looked, at least, like he wanted to be there.

  “Yay. Better. You can let me down. The crowd is starting to disperse.”

  He backed to the bench and held his hands up to grab hers.

  They sat for a while. Finn stared at the tree, and she sent the pictures to her parents. As the last message churned through the electronic queue, an incoming one filled her screen. It was a text message—not an image—and it was from Lisa.

  Lisa Baylor: We’re going on a Pack run and are going to meet up at the mansion for a midnight meal afterward. Where are you?

  “Heh heh. Got a picture for that.” Graciella attached the one of her and Finn to a message and typed,

  You: Look. We made a wolf totem pole.

  Lisa Baylor: Come home.

  Graciella rolled her eyes.

  You: Why? I can’t go on the run. I don’t shift. What do you want me to do, ride my bicycle out into the desert?

  Lisa Baylor: I just want to know where you are for when we’re ready to go to the mansion.

  You: What’s all that about, anyway?

  Lisa Baylor: Dinner. Holiday treat from the Afotama. A few are joining us.

  You: Well, I’ll be there. Not going on the run, though, so no need for me to hurry back.

  Lisa Baylor: I’m sure Christina would like to know where Finn is.

  You: If she does, she could call him. They’re grown-ups and know how to use phones, I’m sure.

  “What’s wrong?” Finn asked. “You’re makin’ faces.”

  “Do you ever argue with your sister by text message?” It felt like an argument, anyway, though Graciella wasn’t quite sure what it was about.

  “Nah. We don’t do much textin’. Faster for me to call.”

  “Oh. Well, Lisa’s just monitoring my whereabouts.”

  “Worried?”

  “Yeah. She worries a lot.”

  “I ain’t gonna let nothin’ happen to you. You can tell her that.”

  “I will.”

  You: Finn says he’s not going to let anything happen to me.

  Lisa responded immediately.

  Lisa Baylor: I’m not worried about ANYTHING happening to you. I’m worried about FINN happening to you.

  You: What are you talking about?

  Lisa Baylor: Come home.

  You: Nah.

  Graciella tucked the phone into her pocket and ignored it when it buzzed.

  Finn raised an eyebrow.

  “Oh, all done. I told her.”

  “Okay, good.” He nodded with finality. “She won’t worry, then.”

  Graciella
put on a smile and shrugged. Knowing Lisa, she’d probably troop down to the town square, grab Graciella by the ear, and yank her to the house. Controlling her actions, controlling her life.

  Graciella appreciated everything her sister had done for her and their family, and especially for bringing her to Norseton. But at some point, Lisa was going to have to stand back and let Graciella live her own life. Graciella was capable of making good decisions, but more than that, she needed a chance to experience things without being watched or micromanaged. And if she wanted to do those things with other people, who happened to be male, that was her business.

  She plucked her phone out of her pocket to tell Lisa just that, but it wasn’t necessary. Lisa’s last message had said,

  Lisa Baylor: I’ll see you at the mansion. We’ll meet you in the dining room at 11:45.

  Looks like we’re going to dinner after the movie,” Graciella said.

  “What’s going on?”

  “The Afótama are hosting a midnight meal. I guess if you texted, Christina might have told you. The wolves are about to go on a pack run. If you want to meet me at the theater after you’re done, I’ll find us some good seats.”

  He narrowed his eyes and parted his lips wordlessly.

  “Change your mind about the movie? That’s all right. It’s been a long day for you, too, I bet.”

  “They’re—runnin’?”

  “I think they’re making it a tradition. Colt said his old pack did something similar on holidays, and I believe Darius’s pack did as well.”

  “Oh.” Finn stood and stuffed his hands into his pockets, rocking back on his heels. “You like them coffee drinks with the weird flavors?”

  “I’m pretty trifling. I like artificially flavored everything. Why?”

  He crooked his thumb toward the shops across the street where the queue lined up outside the coffee shop door.

  The coffee shop usually closed at eight, but was staying open late to serve the tree lighting crowd. She’d read the sign earlier. They were reintroducing their winter specialty coffees.

  “I like plain, black coffee,” he said. “I reckon they must have some.”

  “I bet they do. Need some caffeine before your run?”