by Liz Schulte
“What machine?” I asked.
“The animaphagist,” Holden said. “It was what the guardians used to syphon powers from their people.”
“Where will his powers go?”
“I don’t know and I really don’t care,” he said. He transported Rhys back to the warehouse and Corbin helped me get Phoenix and Charlie into my car.
“It’s not straight,” I said, standing back so I could see the tree better. “A little to the left.” Holden rolled his eyes and Femi sighed, but they moved the Christmas tree into just the right position. “That’s it. Perfect.”
Holden tightened the bolts on the tree stand to secure it, then stood next to me. “You have no idea how much I miss the light thing,” he said, scanning the mess of boxes and tree debris on the floor.
“I don’t. The decorating is half the fun.” I kissed his cheek. That wasn’t completely true. I did miss being able to clean up a mess with just a thought and redecorate at a whim, but when it came to Christmas I liked to touch each ornament as I hung it up by hand. Each one was a memory and each new ornament we added over the years would be a new memory with my new family.
Quintus came in carrying a tray of cookies and eggnog for everyone. “It’s a little crooked,” he said looking at the tree, making everyone groan.
“I think it’s perfect,” Maggie said, emerging from the garage with another box of ornaments and Charlie. “Like your new house, Charlie?”
Charlie licked her lips and looked at me as she slowly formed her words and I tried not to mouth them along with her. “Do you want to see my room?”
“Of course I do,” Maggie said.
Charlie grinned and led Maggie upstairs to my old bedroom, which was Charlie’s new one. I bit my lips, swelling with pride. We had been working so hard on her speech.
Holden slung an arm over my shoulder. His nose pressed against my cheek for a moment before his lips brushed against it. “You doing okay?”
I nodded. “Overwhelmed, but in the best way.” I let the tear slide down my face instead of wiping it away. “My mom would have loved this. All of it. Charlie, having everyone here, the decorations…”
He nodded, probably humoring me, but I didn’t care.
“Baker would have liked it too,” I said.
Femi flopped down on the couch, taking a large bite of sugar cookie. “Boring. What’s next?”
“The lights, then ornaments, then the tree topper and ribbon.”
“I’ll get the rest of the boxes,” Holden said and Quintus went with him.
I opened the box Maggie brought in and Femi came over to peer inside. “What is this monstrosity?” she asked, snatching up an ornament I made when I was Charlie’s age with popsicle sticks.
“A reindeer,” I said indignantly, taking it away from her. “It’s a work of art. An Olivia original.” I hung it in a place of honor on the tree.
“So how do you like being a reaper?” Femi asked, casually hanging a couple more ornaments.
That seemed to be the question on everyone’s mind, but I still hadn’t come up with a good answer for it. It was an experience like nothing else. One that was hard to put into words. “I like it more than I thought. I was a terrible guardian from the start. I never could follow the rules. This is different. I talk to people, hear about their lives, and walk them to the next. It’s peaceful in way. It’s the moment between.”
She hung a few ornament shooting me glances then nodded in the direction of the tree. “You look happy.”
“I am. So where’s Corbin?”
“I passed him a lead on Thomas.”
I paused, picking out my next ornament. “Really. You’ve been pretty adamant about not sharing information with him.”
She shrugged. “I doubt anything comes from it. But the thing is when we needed Corbin, even though he had no interest in our survival and said repeatedly he wasn’t going to, he stepped up. Thomas who swore he would help, cut and run in Arizona. I feel like I owed him something for that. Any debt to Thomas has been more than cleared.”
I nodded. It still had to be hard, but Femi would tell me more when she was ready to talk.
“Have you guys had any trouble?” she asked.
I laughed. “Who in their right mind would come after Death?” I glanced back toward the garage. “Especially when hell follows with her.”
A slow feline grin spread over Femi’s face. “Totally valid point. You scared the pants off of Baba Yaga. How does Chuckles like the council?”
“It’s an adjustment. Holden likes to think he works alone.”
“Ah,” she said. “And how is he dealing with suburbia?”
“It’s endlessly an entertaining thing to watch.” There was a knock at the front door. “In fact, that’s probably a neighbor bringing more cookies or pies or casseroles or welcome baskets. Ever since Holden went out to hang up Christmas lights, there’s been one woman after another coming to our door.” I laughed again.
“Can they see you?”
I nodded. “If I let them, but I don’t look like myself though.”
“Wait until he mows the lawn shirtless—there’ll be a riot.”
“I can’t imagine Holden mowing the lawn.”
Femi shrugged. “I can’t imagine him putting up Christmas lights, but apparently he did it.”
“Touché,” I said over my shoulder as I opened the front door with a smile. No one was there. I glanced down to see a car seat on the porch stuffed full of blankets. Femi came over and glanced around too. We looked at each other then back to the seat. “You don’t think that’s…” I couldn’t finish the thought. It couldn’t be. How was that even possible?
Her mouth fell open and she peered at it again. “It couldn’t be, could it? It’s been three months. The ashes were gone.”
I picked up the carrier and brought it inside the house. I pulled back the blankets; a faceless little creature squirmed beneath. I touched its unformed hand and it transformed as I watched into a chubby, wiggling human baby with gray eyes and a thin layer of brown hair with a reddish tint.
Femi dropped down onto one of the dining room chairs.
“Maybe Rhys didn’t use the ashes. We couldn’t find anyone he used them on.”
Femi just stared at the child unblinking.
I picked him up and held him close to my chest. He warmly cooed and babbled at me, bringing fresh, happy tears to my eyes. It was really him. It felt like him. I had no doubt about that, but who brought him here? Why now?
Holden and Quintus came back from the garage, laughing about something.
“Um, Holden, I’ve got a little surprise for you,” I called out and winked at Femi, who could only shake her head.
Holden stopped several feet back when he saw the baby. “What’s that?”
“Someone left him on the porch.” I moved toward him with the baby.
He took another step back. “I don’t do babies.”
I put the child in his arms anyway. He’d be fine. “You do now. Look at him.”
Holden looked down, then squinted his eyes looking closer, pulling the blanket back. The child looked up at him for a moment then its face wrinkled and turned red before he sent out a sputtering wail. “Shit. It’s Baker.”
The end.
As always I have to start with thanking my family, friends, and most of all my readers. Thank you for coming with me on all of Olivia and Holden’s adventures with me and brightening my day every time I hear from you. Thank you to Lori Long, Rebecca Stine, and Olivia Hardin for being amazing beta readers. I also want to give a special thank you to Chris Patterson for being the most awesome friend, fan, and stalker a writer could ask for.
MANY AUTHORS CLAIM to have known their calling from a young age. Liz Schulte, however, didn’t always want to be an author. In fact, she had no clue. Liz wanted to be a veterinarian, then she wanted to be a lawyer, then she wanted to be a criminal profiler. In a valiant effort to keep from becoming Walter Mitty, Liz put pen to paper and b
egan writing her first novel. It was at that moment she realized this is what she was meant to do. As a scribe she could be all of those things and so much more.
When Liz isn’t writing or on social networks she is inflicting movie quotes and trivia on people, reading, traveling, and hanging out with friends and family. Liz is a Midwest girl through and through, though she would be perfectly happy never having to shovel her driveway again. She has a love for all things spooky, supernatural, and snarky. Her favorite authors range from Edgar Allen Poe to Joseph Heller to Jane Austen to Jim Butcher and everything in between.
Liz would love to hear from you
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Check out more books by Liz:
URBAN FANTASY/PARANORMAL ROMANCE
The Guardian Trilogy: Secrets
Choices
Consequences
Easy Bake Coven
Hungry, Hungry Hoodoo
Pickup Styx
Tiddly Jinx
MYSTERY
Dark Corners
Dark Passing
The Ninth Floor
ANTHOLOGIES
Naughty or Nice Christmas Anthology (Ella Reynolds Christmas short story)
Christmas Yet to Come (Baker Christmas short story)
SHORT STORIES
Be Light (A Guardian Trilogy Short Story)
Sweet Little Lies (A Sekhmet Short Story)
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About the Author