by Eve Langlais
She flinched, wanting to keep from slipping into remembered pain. She wasn’t thirteen anymore. She wasn’t helpless. Ten years had passed and she had embraced her destiny. She was no longer weak or terrified. Even with the sense of empowerment, Dani couldn’t make her way back to finding happiness at this time of year. But there was no sense in ruining Mimi’s love of it all.
With a slow, measured breath, Dani pushed a smile to her face, wanting to look happy for the sake of her friend. Currently, Dani had concerns about her yard being a fire hazard once the decorations were actually plugged in. So far, the only thing dancing through her head was images of her electric meter spinning. That was a bill she had no interest in seeing.
She made good money as a slayer, or the new politically correct term–Preternatural Enforcer–but she didn’t flaunt money or spend unwisely. There had been a time when she’d lived on the streets, unsure where her next meal would come from or even if it would come. While that had changed, she wasn’t one to spend needlessly.
Mimi, having grown up in the lap of luxury, didn’t really have any true concept of money. The girl still lived in her family’s huge mansion on the other side of the city, and more often than not, Mimi had her own personal driver to cart her around. She didn’t have to work, but she did anyway. She was one of the Preternatural Magiks with Chicago’s Bureau of Paranormal Investigation (CBPI). The people in charge liked to ration them out to the teams of enforcers, just in case a magik was needed. Mimi was on the same team as Dani. They’d met during training and had clicked right away. Dani and Mimi had grown up with very different backgrounds, but that hadn’t stopped them from becoming the best of friends.
The minute Dani spotted a giant light–up Santa, still in the box, standing almost as tall as her, she shook her head, needing to stop the insanity before it became an even bigger eyesore. “No way. I’m vetoing that one.”
“Come on, Dani,” Mimi pleaded, her light blue eyes wide and her bottom lip jutted forward, pouting, as her red hair poked out from under her knitted cap. The girl had a way of getting Dani to agree to just about anything. It was the power of the best friend code of ethics. That, or big sad eyes. Dani wasn’t sure.
“The Santa was too cute for me to resist,” added Mimi.
Dani paused, considering letting Mimi have her way. “No.”
“Dani, you have to admit he’s adorable.” Mimi tugged on the end of the box, doing her best to get Super Santa free from his packaging. From the looks of it, Super Santa weighed a ton.
Stretching her arms above her head in an attempt to ease her stiffness, Dani kept making a noise that indicated no way. That noise was quickly replaced by a grunt when she overstretched her tired and sore muscles.
Mimi eyed her. “Did you get checked in the infirmary after last night’s scuffle?”
“Scuffle” was a mild word for it. Millennium Park had been the scene of one hell of a battle between those who tried to police the supernaturals, and a select group of supernaturals, who had decided they wanted to do as they pleased–and doing as they pleased meant attacking humans.
That was a no–go.
Dani, a skilled slayer, and the few enforcers with her, had been grossly outnumbered when they’d been ambushed. She’d nearly gotten her ass handed to her once or twice during it all, but had come out on top. Several baddies had escaped and the CBPI was on it. If any of the perps resurfaced, the enforcers would be notified.
“I’m good. Sore, but good,” said Dani, though she was a bit worse off than she cared to admit. “But I’m still drawing the line on Super Santa.”
“Holiday mood killer,” mumbled Mimi.
Dani was about to comment when the hairs on the back of her neck prickled, wanting to stand on end but resisting. Her slayer side was more sensitive to certain types of supernaturals. That happened with a lot of slayers. Dani’s easy–to–sense supernaturals were vampires.
A smile wanted to form on her face when she put together which vampire in particular was watching her. The only one she’d ever had the hots for. The one who just happened to be her boss. She resisted, doing her best to act as if she didn’t sense him there, his gaze on her from afar.
Do not look over at his house. Do not, she repeated to herself.
Cornell Sutton, member of one of the ruling vampire families and one of the heads of her division of CBPI. More specifically, he was her direct boss and just happened to be a hunk. Tall, sinewy, with ink–black hair that hung just past his chiseled jaw line and eyes so dark it was often hard to tell when his demon rode his body. Like most vampires, he was on the pale side, but he worked it.
Man, oh man, did he work it.
Dani’s entire body tightened with thoughts of Cornell. He always smelled like cinnamon and baked goods to her. Every vampire had a natural scent. His reminded her of apple pie, which was her one weakness. She’d once asked Mimi if she too smelled baked goods around Cornell, but Mimi had stared at her like she was nuts.
Didn’t matter. The guy smelled yummy enough to eat.
Too bad he was her boss and a stick–in–the–mud. He was a by–the–book kind of guy. Always harping on her about the rules and regulations. About her duties. About her wild ways.
Mostly, she tuned him out, disliking authority figures and following orders. She thought she’d one–upped him with her streak of defiance, but then, two years ago, he’d done the unimaginable.
The jerk had bought the property next to Dani’s house as well as the next two properties beyond that, had the previous homes on the lots demolished, and then had commissioned the building of a giant, gothic–feeling mansion with matching grounds. The place did not fit into the suburban area one bit. It stuck out like a sore thumb, but he’d done it all the same. It had been completed six months prior, and for those long six months Dani had found herself living next door to her boss. He was probably watching her because he had plans to scold her for her juvenile behavior.
Yep, a total stick–in–the–mud.
A hot one.
But a stick all the same.
She shook her head at her friend. “Mimi, I’m drawing the line there. I think three Santas are plenty already. I’m not sure we need a giant one on top of the others. Last time I checked, there was only one Santa Claus. There were also only eight tiny reindeer.” She made quotes with her mitten–covered fingers and then attempted to push her long blonde hair back up and under her stocking cap without much in the way of success. She simply had too much hair to tame. “Catch the tiny and only eight part?”
Grinning, Mimi shrugged. “Hey, those were on sale and my brother won’t let me decorate our grounds, so you get to deal with me, like it or not.”
Sale for Mimi probably still meant she’d overpaid for everything, not to mention that she didn’t really understand buying in moderation. Dani didn’t even want to guess at what went into the current haul.
Dani touched her chin, pondering. “Have you ever wondered why it’s eight reindeer and not, say, twelve or even twenty? I mean, look at the guy they get charged with pulling–he ain’t tiny.”
Mimi groaned. “Dani, do not mock Santa.”
“Mimi,” she said softly, hating to be the bearer of the obvious. “You do realize you’re Fae and that in itself says the odds of you being Christian and celebrating a–”
Mimi frowned. “I always wanted to celebrate, but my family didn’t see the point. Conrad thinks I’m silly. I like it. I like the idea of it, and honestly, there are some interesting overlaps with Christmas and Fae religious beliefs, which aren’t that far from what the druids believe.”
Dani grunted. “I have never had a group of Fae show up at my door, caroling.”
Mimi snorted. “Yet.”
“True.”
“It shouldn’t matter what religion I am,” said Mimi, holding her current decoration of choice much like a teddy bear. “I want to celebrate, so I am.”
“You should have baby–stepped it and just went with a tree,” offere
d Dani.
Mimi sighed, a defeated expression coming over her. “I knew I forgot something.”
It took all of Dani’s strength not to laugh. “You mean to tell me you went through all this trouble, but you don’t have a tree?”
“Yes,” said Mimi, looking dispirited. “I forgot the tree.”
“When I was reporting in to Cornell, I noticed he had a bunch of them around his place. I can steal one of his.”
“Danielle Malloye, you will not be a grinch,” said Mimi, her eyes wide.
“The guy is loaded and I’m pretty sure he had his minions do the heavy lifting. Doubt he’d notice one missing.”
Mimi paused. “So, tell me about your last visit with Mr. Hot ‘n’ Hunky Boss Man.”
Rolling her eyes, Dani bent and gathered some snow, packing it into a snowball. “Not much to tell. After that big bust down at Millennium Park, which he showed up at, by the way, he then demanded I return to his home with him, rather than the office. I did. He let everyone else involved go to the office.”
“Don’t you think it’s weird that you live next door to one of Chicago’s most influential vampires?” asked Mimi.
Dani shrugged. “I’ve no idea why he picked here to build. Oak Tree Ridge is hardly up–and–coming or a happening section of town.”
Mimi grinned. “Gee. I wonder.”
“What does that mean?”
Mimi licked her lips. “I’m sure I have no idea.”
Dani tried to hide her blush. “It was so weird. He burst in like a superhero during the battle and started ripping through the bad guys. When the rest had scattered to the winds, Cornell walked around me in circles, scowled, told me I should have waited for him to get there before even entering the area–like I was supposed to know it was going to be an ambush–and then he demanded to know about all the injuries I’d sustained.”
Mimi snorted. “He offer to kiss any?”
“Be serious.”
“I am,” Mimi said, pointing to Cornell’s house. “The man built his house practically on top of you. I don’t think it’s a reach to say he’d certainly kiss your sore spots. And your non–sore ones.”
Cornell’s house sat just behind an iron fence he’d had erected within days of the construction on the main house coming to a close. He had two hellhounds that, while adorable, at least in Dani’s eyes, couldn’t be permitted to roam the neighborhood unattended. Humans tended to freak out if they did.
As if hellhounds made eating humans an event. They preferred demons.
Everyone knew that.
Okay, not everyone, but certainly anyone who knew anything about hellhounds knew as much. It wasn’t like humans were new to supernaturals. Since the supernaturals’ giant coming–out party in the mid–seventies, humans had been getting schooled on the paranormal. Dani was too young to have been around during the Paranormal Awakening, as the media had termed supernaturals outing themselves. She’d read about what had happened back then.
It hadn’t been pretty for either side.
“Hey, Dani, look!” yelled Mimi, holding another decoration in the air.
Dani highly doubted Cornell would be too happy with the idea of living next to a winter wonderland. If she thought hard enough, she’d have to admit to herself she’d given Mimi the okay to proceed with decorating in the hopes it would irritate Cornell.
Sighing, Dani strongly suspected she’d be dealing with a few angry neighbors before the week was done, and one would be her boss. She was already public enemy number one as far as the Homeowners Association went. Dani seemed to collect citations. The jerkwad in charge of the thing disliked supernaturals in a big way. He was one of the human purists. A crazy group who thought by protesting everything to do with supernaturals, they’d somehow get them to go away. Guess he didn’t understand they’d been here longer than the humans. Then again, she doubted he cared.
“Where should I put him?” Mimi asked, holding up a light–up elf. It was clutching a book with holly on the front of it.
Dani blinked several times. “In the Shire?”
Mimi appeared confused.
No surprise. Dani’s geeky side and her references to it normally fell flat with Mimi.
“Whatever you think is best,” said Dani with a snort. As Mimi rushed off to see what, if any, open spots she had remaining in her spider web of extension cords, Dani’s focus went to her boss’s house once more. She could feel him there, watching her still. It warmed her to an extent, though she wasn’t sure why.
Because you’re totally into him.
She groaned, disliking her inner thoughts for pointing out what she tried very hard to deny.
“I’m bored,” called Dani. They’d been at the decorating for hours. Or rather, Mimi had been decorating and Dani had been trapped outside, watching the holiday horror take shape.
Mimi lifted what looked like a harp from another box. Dear gods above, the girl had managed to get her hands on a harp. “You could help me decorate.”
“I’m not that bored,” returned Dani, considering taking the harp and some of Mimi’s other decorations and putting them over on the doom–and–gloom, yet well–kept, property.
A little spreading of the holiday cheer.
Cornell would be livid.
She smiled, liking the idea more and more.
Dani couldn’t help but laugh as she glanced at a set of stone gargoyles that flanked the large staircase to his front door. They’d look wicked cool with some holly around their necks. Maybe some tinsel on them as well. She blew on her mitten–covered hands, doing her best to regain some sort of feeling in them. It didn’t work. Snow had soaked through the mittens and pretty much left her hands icy cold. “I’m freezing and I’m hungry.”
“You’re like a small child,” her friend said with a chuckle. “Often I feel like our quality time together is me babysitting you, and you’re a grown woman.”
“Oh yeah, I’m the one with the kid complex.” Dani motioned to the still unpacked boxes of decorations. The delivery truck that had arrived early in the morning had been packed to the point of near bursting. “Often I buy out entire department stores of their holiday collections and insist on putting them all up, on the same day, at the same house. Yep, me for sure.”
With a snort, Mimi shook her hand and motioned to Dani’s house. “I made gingerbread cookies, and can make us some cocoa when we’re done.”
Dani sighed. “I’d say I’m shocked you have cookies and cocoa waiting, but we both know that would be a bold–faced lie. I’d be more shocked if your gingerbread men didn’t have cute little gingerbread women to go with them.”
Mimi blushed.
Pointing, Dani laughed. “I knew it!”
“I’m predictable. So what?” Mimi shrugged. “Sometimes it’s a good thing.”
Mimi was right. It was good to know that no matter what, Dani could count on her.
Knowing she wasn’t going to be able to leave Mimi unattended without fear of a fire, Dani set about keeping herself occupied without aiding in the decorating. She gathered snow and began the mindless task of building an obscene snowman. Each time Dani managed to get it at least half–done, Mimi came past and knocked it over. Apparently, making men from snow and giving them enlarged testicles wasn’t considered festive in Mimi’s book. It wasn’t in Dani’s either, but getting under Mimi’s skin always appealed to her.
What are besties for?
After a quick trip into the house, Dani returned with the last of what she needed to complete her masterpiece–a carrot. She shoved the carrot in the snowman to represent his penis and smiled widely. “Ah, now that’s decorating.”
“Help me. He’s stuck,” Mimi said, wiggling her backside to the Christmas music she’d insisted on playing from her cell phone as she yanked on the oversized Santa, trying to free him from his box. “He’s too big.”
Dani laughed. “Is there such a thing as a man who is too big? Speaking of size, I need a bigger carrot for my snowman. Hmm, do
you think a cucumber would work better?”
“Dani, get that off there!” Mimi shrieked.
“Fine. Go ahead. Suck the joy out of that holiday spirit you were so anxious for me to get.”
Mimi gasped as she lost her grip on the Santa. She fell backward and hit Dani, knocking her to the ground with a thud. A dull ache centered at the base of Dani’s skull. “Ouch.”
“Crap. Sorry,” said Mimi, trying but failing to get up. “Slippery spot. There are a bunch of them out here.”
The coppery taste of blood filled Dani’s mouth. She swallowed and bit back a groan as her already battered body adjusted to the newest onslaught of discomfort. Mimi would worry if Dani dared to let on that she’d not fully healed from the battle the night before. As a slayer, Dani healed nearly as fast as most supernaturals. But she’d gotten pretty knocked around and it would take her at least another day to be back to something close to normal. “Way to draw first blood.”
“Well, it really is the only way I can get a lick in on you,” Mimi said, laughing as she went to sit up.
Grabbing her friend’s wrist, Dani winked, keeping Mimi held down to the ground. “It’s snow angel time.”
“Dani?” Shocked didn’t even begin to cover the expression Mimi had on her face.
“You heard me. I’m letting out that inner child of mine. The one you were complaining about. Snow angels. Now. Or I go back to erotic snowman–building. Only this time”–she put her hands out wide–”I’ll make his cock the size of a zucchini.”
“I hate it when you use those words in public,” Mimi snipped, wrinkling her nose as Dani swooshed her arms and legs out, making her snow angel. “You could be a little more ladylike. It wouldn’t kill you.”
Grinning, Dani tossed a handful of snow at her. “Here I thought zucchini was a ‘Mimi correct’ word for it.”
Mimi wiped the snow from her face and rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. I swear, you let the first thing that comes into your mind fly right out. And do you ever think about anything but sex?”
“Yes, dear. Visions of sugarplums will be dancing through my head all night. If, and only if, the nightmares take a break long enough to allow that to happen.” No part of her wanted to upset Mimi with talk of the past, so Dani put her hand out and smiled. “Come on, you can help me castrate the snowman. When we’re done there, I’ve got three, almost four Santas we could do too. Oh, and twelve non–tiny reindeer. Wow, we could be at this all night.”