He hadn't realized he'd fallen to his knees until Nolan and Danika joined him on the kitchen floor.
“He's alive.” It wasn't a question, and Loken’s tone was devoid of the anxiety and hatred raging inside of him. The madman that had broken him was free, and Loken was a prisoner inside of his own mind—locked in a battle that logic couldn't defeat. He knew when he was being irrational, but that didn't help him control his emotions.
Perhaps, he thought bitterly, King Balan would find his current state fitting and would dismiss his sentence if he was ever found.
Danika wrapped her arms around him. She didn't say a word, but, surprisingly, Nolan did.
“No one is going to lay a finger on you. Not ALPHA, not the King of Dicks, and not Doctor Psycho. They can barge in here all they want, but no one is taking you anywhere. Even if I have to fight them off alone.”
Loken had never heard anyone refer to King Balan with such disrespect or vulgarly; such simply wasn’t done on Rellaeria. Nor could he remember someone defending him so adamantly. It was staggering, and he couldn’t pinpoint every single emotion it invoked.
He wanted to remind Nolan that he was only human, only an inventor, but Loken had lived a lifetime of being underestimated. He wouldn't do Nolan that disservice. Furthermore, he'd witnessed firsthand Nolan’s influence and ingenuity.
“Uh, excuse you. Not alone,” Danika said, breaking the heavy silence. “I’m capable of helping. I just need, like, bear spray.”
Nolan looked thoughtful. “I think I can come up with something. How do you feel about high-voltage tasers?”
Danika’s hands flew to her mouth as she gasped in excitement.
Loken didn’t like the sound of that. “No. I’ll teach her the art of the dagger.”
“Oooooh.” Danika marveled at the idea.
“Fine,” Nolan said. “You teach her, and I’ll make her a taser-glove.”
“A taser-glove?”
Loken scowled, ready to protest, but Nolan cut him off.
“I’m heading to the workshop. See you ladies later. Oh, and don’t worry. Neo is on patrol.”
Still reeling from the events of the day, Loken just leaned into the counter when Danika stood and offered her hand to help him up.
To his surprise, she sagged back to the floor, back sliding down the counter. “Yeah, I feel you. Today sucked.”
Her downtrodden demeanor distracted him from his despondency, and he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. “It wasn’t all bad.”
(Lestat is alive.)
He clenched his fists and took a breath. Soon, he vowed. A month, a year, a decade. It didn’t matter how long it took. Loken would kill him and have his revenge.
She laid her head on his shoulder and hopefully promoted him. “Yeah?”
“Oh, yes.” He paused for effect. “I rather enjoyed you making a fool of yourself in the snow.”
Danika laughed a little. “I’m glad.”
“What would you like to show me next?” Were he being honest, he could admit he was enjoying her tutorial on this earthen celebration. It was pleasantly distracting.
“Hm. Let’s bake gingerbread cookies, and then we can get started on all of the Christmas classics. Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, A Christmas Carol, and How the Grinch Stole Christmas. Oh, lemme text Nora and see when she’ll be back.”
Soon, Loken was rolling out cookie dough while Danika added a generous amount of flour every time the rolling pin got stuck. For reasons she couldn’t explain, it was traditional to use cookie cutters to cut the mixture into little men. However, she admitted that she preferred the ‘reindeer’ cookie cutters and produced three animal-shaped ones.
“Why is this one leaping?” he asked, raising a brow at the cookie cutter.
“Uh, duh. Because it’s a magical reindeer. Its flying.”
“I have nothing but questions,” he replied, but he didn’t ask them.
Danika laughed, and they switched roles so that they both got a few turns of cutting out cookies.
As they worked, Loken mulled over the day’s events. Lestat was alive, ALPHA was hunting him, and Loken was far from being at full strength. Even when he got his magic back, he knew he was not infallible. Arrogance had gotten him captured once. He would not repeat that mistake.
He needed allies, and Nolan, with all of his influence, was a prime candidate. Now, all Loken needed was something worth trading for his favor.
The answer was so obvious, and formulating a plan was easy.
Pleased with his scheming, he returned his attention to baking cookies.
“How you holding up?” Danika asked while the cookies baked.
In truth, he still felt incredibly weak, but spending the entire day on the couch wouldn’t be prudent in rebuilding his strength. “Better.”
“Jaw still hurting?”
It was, but he didn’t want a lecture on how he should be putting a date on a surgery he didn’t want. “Will Nora be joining us for movie night?” he asked rather than answer.
Danika didn’t press him. “Yup, and Ian said he’d be up at seven.”
Ian.
It was strange to hear the man addressed by his given name, and though a compulsion urged him to test the syllables himself, he kept his silence.
That night he, Nora, Danika, and Ian watched A Christmas Carol and ate Chinese takeout.
Loken fell asleep sandwiched between Danika and Nora, wondering if a few acts of generosity could make up for a lifetime of wickedness, as the movie implied.
Loken and Danika were watching a movie about a red-nosed reindeer named Rudolph when his clothes arrived the next day. They retreated to his suite, and while he tried them on, Danika let slip an important fact about Christmas that she’d previously neglected to mention.
“Gifts?” he echoed. The entire festival was based on the exchanging of gifts? How was he supposed to come up with items for everyone that were personable and worthy?
“I doubt they’re expecting stuff from you, but if it’ll make you feel better, we can say my gifts are from you too. Now, try on this top. It’s so sexy!”
That seemed a cheap cop-out, but he didn’t turn down the offer outright. He’d likely agree if his magic wasn’t healed enough to craft gifts before Christmas day.
After a half hour of physical therapy (which mainly consisted of walking for prolonged periods), Jeremy took out the temporary IV port from Loken’s hand and removed the stitches from his arms (which was far less horrific than he’d assumed it would be). The wounds, including the ones across his wrists, had almost faded—a sure sign that his magic was healing well.
It was foolish to test his limits, but he had to know. If he wanted to consider moving forward, he needed to be certain he was well on the way to his previous power level. This was new territory, and he had no idea if a complete recovery was possible. Would life be worth living if his magic was permanently crippled?
Taking a breath, he summoned a magelight—a ball of luminescence that was one of the first spells he’d ever learned. The light held, he felt no lingering fatigue, and his current form remained stable.
Fragile hope flickered in his chest.
He let the spell end when Danika knocked on the door and entered his room. “You’ve got to come upstairs!”
Without waiting for a reply, she locked elbows with Loken and dragged him off. Though his muscles ached from physical therapy, he was getting exponentially stronger each day, so he managed to keep his footing as they made their way to the common floor.
It was mayhem. There were boxes everywhere, and a large evergreen tree now rested near the wall made entirely of windows. Eloy was opening boxes that contained strings of lights, and Raaum was hanging large, red socks over the fireplace. Nora was fiddling with a dozen tiny houses that she was arranging on the mantle, and Ian was talking to Neo—whom Loken was starting to realize wasn’t a single physical entity but an AI that controlled many things.
“—true. When I said
order Christmas lights, I said order a few boxes.”
The AI replied by playing a recording of Ian saying, “Order Christmas lights. As many as it takes. I want this tree seen from space!”
Ian barked a laugh, looking incredulous. “My creation is back-talking me. Do you guys hear this?” He surveyed the room, and when his eyes fell upon Loken, he grinned. “Hey, Princess. Lookin’ fine. You sure you’re from space? You’ve got better taste than half the people I’ve met.”
Loken had, in fact, designed his clothes to attract the inventor’s attention—all part of his plan—but he only smiled. “May I ask what’s transpiring?”
“Nolan bought a Christmas tree,” Raaum said.
“Damn right I did! This is Loken’s first Christmas. Sadly, I bought all new lights, so we can’t recreate the joy of trying to locate the one broken bulb that’s keeping the entire set from working. But don’t worry; we’ll get our chance next year.”
Unable to relate to the frustration Nolan alluded to, Loken asked, “May I ask what a tree has to do with Christmas?”
“It’s only the most important part! It’s where Santa leaves the gifts,” Ian replied.
“Santa…?”
“Fat, jolly old man. Drives a sleigh powered by flying, magical reindeer to deliver Christmas presents to the entire world in a single night.”
Loken narrowed his eyes. One man delivering the world presents on a single night? Was he a sorcerer? “I’m ignorant. Not gullible.”
“He’s not making it up,” Raaum said. “That’s the actual story parents tell their kids. That Santa and his elves, who live in the North Pole, make presents for the world and, if you’re good, you’ll get them on Christmas. There’s tons to it. Like the flying reindeer that pull the magical sleigh, and the tradition of leaving cookies and milk out for Santa Clause.”
“Don’t forget the part where he has to slip down the chimney to drop off the gifts at each house,” Ian added helpfully.
Loken had never heard a more ridiculous tradition. “Parents lie to the children and tell them that a strange man breaks into their homes every winter holiday?”
“Well, anything sounds bad when you say it like that,” Ian said as Patrick and Jeremy stepped off the elevator with a grocery bags.
“It’s tradition!” Patrick called out.
Loken rolled his eyes.
“Anyway,” Ian said. “We all took a vote and decided that we’ll be having Christmas Eve together here, so I ordered a few things. Now, let’s put on some tunes and Christmas the hell out of this room.”
“Put on Christmas music!” Danika demanded.
There was a mixture of groaning and cheering at that.
“The groans have it!” Ian proclaimed.
Loken gauged, by Danika’s pouting, that what station Ian turned on wasn’t Christmas music, but she recovered quickly. “Let’s help put lights on the tree, and then we can add the ornaments!” she said.
That’s how Loken ended up holding one end of a string of lights while Danika strung the other end around the tree’s branches in a spiraling fashion. Eloy and Jeremy cooked in the kitchen, staying out of the way, while Nora and Raaum set up a miniature village.
It gave Loken a new, warm feeling, to be here among them.
(You don't deserve this—any of this—and they know it. A burden. That's all you are.)
Loken knew that inner voice was right. He needed to enact his plan, secure his position.
(Look at what you've become. You were a Scion of Rellaeria.)
He discarded the thought. Pride had no place in his life. Not now. The instinctual urge to survive, small though it was, had been rekindled. He would do what was necessary.
“Why socks?” Loken asked abruptly, gesturing to the fireplace.
“Those are stockings,” Ian replied, as if that explained anything.
Danika rolled her eyes as she tucked lights into the branches. “Everyone in a household gets one. Basically, you leave little gifts in those, like candy. But adults tell kids that’s where Santa leaves you lumps of coal if you’re on the naughty list.”
Ian waggled his eyebrows at the word ‘naughty,’ but Danika and Loken ignored him.
“Coal?”
“Yeah, I don't get it either.”
“
Despite being ignored, Ian grinned. “You ladies want something to drink? Spiked eggnog?”
Danika’s eyes lit up at that, and she turned to Ian. “Do you have nonalcoholic too? If so, I'll take half and half.”
“Coming right up. How about you, Lail?”
“Whatever you think is best,” Loken replied silkily, playing to the man’s ego. “You're the liquor expert.”
“Why, yes. Yes, I am.”
Looking smug, Ian headed to the kitchen, and Danika turned to Loken as soon as he was out of earshot. “Uh, what was that?”
Loken feigned ignorance. “Hm?”
She narrowed a single eye, but surprised excitement lit her features when a new song came on. “Yes! This is my jam! Dance with me!”
He didn’t protest when Danika dragged him towards the middle of the floor, making him dance with her to a song whose artist demanded to be run like a racehorse. It wasn’t a fast-paced song, but he’d danced to similar beats before, and when he noticed Ian’s eyes were upon them, he saw an opportune time to put his plan into action.
With long legs and loose hips, he used each graceful step to entice the inventor. Judging by Ian’s intense gaze, he was enjoying the performance, but although it was meant for him, Loken couldn't keep his eyes from Danika’s own as she mimicked his every move.
She made a lovely dance partner.
When the song ended, Nora clapped, and Eloy wolf-whistled. Loken took Ian's focused gaze as a sign that his ploy was working, but he pretended not to notice the effect he’d had on the man.
“How about those drinks?” he suggested to Danika, knowing Ian would overhear.
“Right here, Princess.”
Dancing had tired him out far more than he wanted to let on, so he used the drink as an excuse to sit at the table. Danika and Ian joined him and they nursed their drinks and talked.
“So, how's my taser-glove coming?” Danika asked with a grin.
Irritation wasn't attractive, so he pretended the idea didn't bother him as Ian explained the design he was tinkering with. Wasn't electricity dangerous for humans? How could Ian ensure she wouldn't hurt herself with a so-called taser?
Finally working up the will to ask about his daggers—though he dreaded the answer—he asked, “Were my daggers present when you liberated me?”
“No. Apparently, the Archangel sent them to ALPHA as a message,” Ian said, not bothering to mask his sudden vehemence.
That didn't sound right to Loken, but it took his mind a moment to remember the events that had led to his capture. “That cannot be. Maganti was the one who captured me.” Likely with the aid of Lestat’s spell, he mused. He remembered magic, and it hadn't been Maganti’s.
“You're certain?”
Loken turned to see Raaum approaching.
“Yes.”
She turned and headed for the elevator.
“Reg, wait!” Eloy chased after her. “You wanna do this now?”
“ALPHA needs to know.”
“And how are going to explain how you know?” Ian asked. “If you confirm you've been here, hanging out with their most wanted—"
“I appreciate the concern,” Raaum said, interrupting Ian. “But I can handle my affairs. You staying or coming?” The last question was directed at Eloy.
Eloy sighed and stepped out of her way. “Please call me as soon as you debrief Callum.”
With a promise that she would, she left.
Loken wasn't concerned she'd betray him in some way—much—but he worried for her. If they were displeased, would they detain her?
As there was little he could do on the matter, he drank his eggnog and accepted a second. When the tree and little vill
age were properly set up, they took a break for dinner—a honey-glazed pork tenderloin with homemade applesauce courtesy of Eloy. Afterwards, they restarted the movie about the outcast reindeer. He sat between Ian and Danika for the entirety of the film, listening to their commentary about the story and the nostalgia it induced. While the group voted on the next movie, Ian excused himself to his workshop, saying he had a project to finish before the New Year.
As if Loken knew when the New Year was. Did humans really celebrate every year?
They watched How the Grinch Stole Christmas, and when it was over, Danika proclaimed he needed to see the version with Jim Carrey to compare them. As the film played, everyone retired to their rooms one by one. Because he was feeling better, instead of falling asleep on the couch, Danika and Nora likely expected him to return to the suite. However, he had other plans.
When they stood to go to bed, he waved them off, figuring there was a fifty percent chance they’d refuse to leave him alone. Though they both gave him reluctant looks, they left him on the couch. After giving them time to get to their suite, he stood and enacted the final stage of his plan.
For some reason, it felt like the longest walk to Ian’s workshop he’d ever made.
Ian had unexpectedly fallen asleep on the leather couch against the back wall.
Eyeing his quarry, Loken slipped into the role of temptress with little effort. He’d done this before but always in disguise. Seduction was an efficient means to an end when on missions, and the anonymity had been more than empowering; it had been necessary.
This, however, was a business transaction, so hiding behind a guise wouldn’t work unless Ian requested it. Though he wasn’t quite certain which form would be preferred (male or female), he decided this would do. Ian had, after all, shown much interest in ‘Lail.’
It was just his body; he could do this.
“Ian,” he said, sampling the man’s given name as he attempted to rouse him.
The inventor slowly opened his eyes, brows furrowed. “Did you just call me—”
Wasting no time, Loken straddled Ian’s hips and felt the man come alive beneath him.
Ian tensed, eyes widening, and then he relaxed ever so slightly. “Alright. This is unexpected—”
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