Rock Paper Scissors

by Devon Monk

  And just like that, Abner looked a lot more alive. Both his eyes were now bright and blinking, his beard a nice white triangle beneath his chin, his ears evenly curled under his bright red pointed hat.

  “Our leader,” Abner said. “You are here.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “Hold on,” Delaney said. “Hogan, what did you just do?”

  “You are abhorrent at guessing a simple disguise,” Death said from the front door. “I would have expected more from a police detective.”

  Myra made a tsking sound. “Someone’s sassing their way out of the jumbo Snickers bar.”

  “What did you do?” I asked Hogan. Since he wasn’t paying any attention to me, I grabbed his shoulders and shook him a little. “What did you just do?”

  “It’s cool. Like. Good. Real good. I’m like, the leader of these little dudes now, and I make the rules. Hey, Abner,” he said. “You aren’t a zombie anymore.”

  “I’m gnot?”

  “You’re gnot.” There was that feeling again. The slight shift in a color I hadn’t even sensed in the room until it changed. “And that means gnone of the other gnomes are zombies anymore.”

  “They’re gnot?”

  Another slight shift.

  “They are gnot. You still hungry?”

  Abner frowned, his hat shifting forward as his eyebrows knit together. “Candy corn?”

  “You got it.” Hogan reached over to the jar next to the love seat, shook out a handful of candy corn, then poured them next to the head.

  Abner smiled and bit into a candy corn with a lot more finesse than I’d have expected out of a bodiless gnome.

  My boyfriend was the head of the garden gnomes. What did that even mean?

  “What does this even mean?” I asked him.

  He dropped his arm back around me. “It’s not a big deal. I’m gonna look after them. They’ll listen to me. I’ll have a bunch of little buddies every October. It’s going to be fun.”

  “You can do that?”

  “I can now.”

  “A duck,” Myra guessed.

  “Would that be frightening?” Death asked.

  “On you? Probably.”

  “Perhaps you will invite me in.” Death wasn’t a vampire. He didn’t need an invitation to enter a place. So I wasn’t surprised to hear their footsteps coming our way.

  “Are we good?” I asked Delaney.

  She stood, putting herself between Death and the gnome head.

  I stood too. So did Hogan. Now that Abner was alive and done with the zombie thing and the knock-knock jokes, there was no reason for Death to kill him.

  Two cops, a baker, and the head of a gnome stared down Death.

  “I see that my services are no longer needed,” he said.

  “Hogan took care of the zombie gnomes,” Delaney said. “Unless you have some other business here you should tell me about?”

  “Death is a shadow, Reed Daughter. Death does not share his To-Do list.”

  I snorted a laugh.

  “Well, you can’t stay here on vacation,” Delaney said. “But this is the night when the veil is the thinnest. There is precedence to all manner of gods and monsters having some fun in the mortal world. If you decide to stay, I won’t tell you to leave.”

  “I don’t believe I was here to ask for your permission, Reed Daughter.”

  “Moth?” I asked. Because I couldn’t figure out what he was supposed to be either.

  He wore a black suit that appeared to be stiff and dusted with ashes. Tattered gray wings drooped on his back, and he was holding a huge ceramic mug of coffee in one hand that was very clearly illustrated by a hand holding up a defiant middle finger.

  Death sighed. “It is my understanding that Halloween is intended to be frightening.”

  “Yes?” I asked.

  “Therefore I chose a frightening costume.”

  “But what are you supposed to be?” I asked.

  “Monday.”

  Hogan started laughing first. We were all right behind him. I kept a close eye on Death’s face. He didn’t smile, but there was a twinkle in his eye and one eyebrow raised.

  “I also understand that some mortals laugh when they are terrified,” he said. “Therefore, I will not punish you for your reactions.”

  Wow, that was almost a joke.

  “That’s good,” Delaney said. “And as long as you follow Ordinary’s rules during this very small window of time while you are here, I hope you enjoy the event.”

  “Are you not attending?”

  He took a moment to glance at each of us. Probably noticed for the first time that none of us were wearing costumes, which was a crying shame. I mean, even Myra usually put on a pair of kitty ears.

  “We have a kidnapped penguin to find,” Delaney said. “And some gnomes to check in on.”

  “Ah,” Death said. “Perhaps this will help.” One minute he was just standing there. The next he was standing there with a very familiar penguin statue at his side.

  “You kidnapped the penguin?” I asked.

  “I merely assured it would come to no harm.”

  “And the little red devil horns it’s wearing?” Delaney asked.

  “In following the rules of Ordinary, I understand one can not kidnap the penguin unless one is willing to decorate it in such a manner as is blog-worthy.”

  I grinned and reached for my phone. “Yeah, we have got to get a picture of this.”

  And we did. The aloof, ashen angel of Monday, and the sweet little penguin with devil horns.

  I could already tell it was going to be my new favorite picture on the blog.

  “Shall we?” Death asked.

  “Shall we what?” Delaney asked.

  “Shall we attend the celebration?”

  “We don’t even have costumes,” I said.

  Delaney and Myra both reached into their pockets and pulled out head bands. Myra’s gave her kitty ears. Delaney’s gave her a unicorn horn.

  Delaney unzipped her coat to reveal the “Sparkle Hard, Baby” T-shirt she wore. Myra did her one better by having not only a leopard-print shirt, but by also having a kitty nose and whiskers to wear, and a cute little pink bell on a choker.

  “For real?” Because my sisters outdoing me on Halloween would simply not do.

  “At least you’re not in costume,” I said to Hogan.

  “Got it right here.” He pulled a white beard out of his pocket, attached it over his ears, then picked up Abner’s head. “I’m the gnome-whisperer. Want to see my amazing talking head?”

  Oh gods.

  “Say something, head,” Hogan said.

  “Something head,” Abner mimicked.

  Hogan laughed, and I rolled my eyes. I’d almost rather they went back to the knock-knock jokes.

  “Fine,” I said. “Give me a second. I’ll out-costume you all.”

  Because there was no way Jean Reed was going to do Halloween by half.

  Chapter Twelve

  We were officially on duty for the night. Halloween meant we had to keep track of petty mischief, but Ordinary didn’t have a lot of serious crime on this night. I chalked it up to half the town being full of monsters or people with powers who could put a stop to mailboxes being knocked over and trees being T.P.’d pretty quick.

  So while we each had to patrol some part of town, we each had at least part of the night off to do something fun too.

  And I wanted to do the Haunted Harbor.

  Lucky for me, Hogan wanted to do it too. I agreed to meet him at eleven so we could cruise through all the haunted houses before midnight.

  He was waiting for me in front of the first haunted house, a red rose in one hand and a gnome head in the other. Even the bushy white beard couldn’t hide how fine that man was. Couldn’t hide the look in his eyes when he saw me coming.

  “Hey there, beautiful,” he said as I made my way around a gaggle of ten-year-olds hyped up on so much sugar, I could practically taste it in the air around
them.

  “Hey, yourself.” I stopped in front of him and smiled. “How’s your night going, Gnome Daddy?”

  He snorted. “We’re gonna have to come up with a sexier name than that.”

  “I’m not calling you master.”

  “Not in that costume, you’re not.”

  “Like it?” I held my arms out to the side and did a little pose.

  “You’re wearing a laundry basket.”

  “And wadded up socks. And some underwear.” I flicked at the clothing stuffed around me, and the hat I’d made out of a box of detergent. “Like Death said, Halloween is about being something people dread.”

  “You’re dirty laundry?”

  “Oh, yeah, baby. I’m all kinds of dirty.”

  He laughed and slipped the rose behind my ear. “Do you know what day it is?” He took my hand, pulled me close until my soft plastic basket buckled between us.

  “Halloween?”

  “Yes. Also, it’s our six-month anniversary.”

  “Oh,” I said. “It is.” I knew that. I’d been thinking about it for weeks. Was this a milestone for him? For us? And if it was a milestone, was it an important one, or just a little one?

  Maybe this was the point where we reassessed what we were doing, who we were together, what we wanted.

  Maybe this was the point where we said good-bye.

  “You know what I want to do to celebrate our first six months together?” He smiled, and shifted his hand so that it cupped my face, his thumb running gently across the curve of my bottom lip.

  “What?” I asked, lost in his eyes.

  “To do it again. And again. And again.”

  “That’s a lot of six months, Hogan.”

  “It is, isn’t it? I’m liking the sound of that. How about you?”

  A year with him? Two years? Three?

  “Yeah,” I said, a little too softly to be heard over the shrieks of fright around us. “Yes,” I said a little louder. “I’d like that too.”

  I searched his eyes. And I thought I saw words unsaid in their warm blue depth. I thought I saw love.

  I hoped he saw it in my eyes too. Because that’s what was in my heart. Solid as a rock, sweet as candy.

  “Can I tell you something?” I asked.

  “Go.”

  “I wished for something.”

  “Oh?”

  “Just now.”

  “And what was it?”

  “Everyone knows that if you tell someone what you wish for it won’t ever come true.”

  “So I have to guess?”

  “Or use your jinni powers to figure it out.”

  He didn’t hesitate. “I already know what it is.”

  “Do you?”

  “It’s written right here.” He brushed his thumb across my bottom lip again. He tipped his head down and gently nudged my face to the angle he wanted.

  Then he kissed me, with all his warmth, his heart, his joy. And I kissed him right back. No secrets between us.

  Yeah. Yes. This was exactly what I had wished for, exactly what my heart hoped for. Him. Us. Together. A promise. A wish. And all the time in the world to discover just how many ways we could make our dreams come true.

  Paper Stars

  One magical holiday. Some assembly required…

  Police Chief Delaney Reed loves the holidays in Ordinary, Oregon, the beach town where gods vacation and monsters reside. But this year, she has a lot on her plate. It isn’t just the creature who follows her home, or the terrible storm barreling toward town. It isn't that Mrs. Yates’s penguin has been stolen. Again.

  Its that her boyfriend, Ryder Bailey, has been gone for two months and is growing more distant. She's beginning to think she knows why.

  But when a demon, a dragon, and a god bearing unusual gifts get thrown on top of her to-do list, Delaney decides to roll up her sleeves and make this holiday unforgettable. One disaster at a time.

  Chapter One

  “Snow Queen, Jack Frost, Old Man Winter,” Jean said as we clomped our way through wet sand toward the cave. Rain sliced sideways, stinging hard despite the all-weather police jackets we wore. “Uh...the Abominable Snowman. There. That’s four people besides my boyfriend who could grant my wish, Delaney.”

  “We are literally at sea level.” I waved toward the Pacific Ocean roaring and churning behind us like some kind of monster with a toothache. “We’re not going to get snow here on Christmas.”

  “Not with that attitude we won’t.” My sister Jean Reed. Eternally optimistic. And just a little obsessed with Christmas.

  “Don’t ask Hogan to grant you a snow wish, Jean.”

  “Just because he’s half-Jinn doesn’t mean he’ll grant wishes willy-nilly. Also, his schedule at the bakery is crazy right now.”

  She snapped her fingers. “You know who could ask someone to make it happen?”

  “Give it up.”

  She ignored me.

  “Why you could ask, Delaney. I bet Jack Frost or Old Man Winter would listen to the

  amazing Delaney Reed, Ordinary, Oregon’s chief of Police.”

  I grinned even though she couldn’t see me. I had never known someone more into Christmas than Jean. “As if. You know how Jack gets this time of year.”

  Sassy was one description. Mob-boss-ish was another. You wouldn’t think being in charge of frosty spangles on car windows would make someone such a militant, sulky diva.

  “Besides, Jack doesn’t live here. And if he did, I’m sure he’d rather not have his town buried in a snow storm.”

  “But it’s almost Christmas,” she whined. “Three days, Delaney. You could send an email. Make an official request. Ooh, make a wish.”

  I snorted. “One: What are you, a three-year-old? Two: Do you know how many actual three-year-olds are wishing for snow for their Christmas? Who do you think Jack or Old Man Winter are going to listen to? A twenty-something police officer who should know the reality of weather patterns on the Oregon coast, or little kids who have their hearts set on magic and snow?”

  “We’re all little kids at heart. Plus, I like magic and snow.”

  “Like it somewhere else. We aren’t prepared for snow. Ordinary doesn’t even own a snow plow.”

  “You sound like Myra.”

  “Good. Myra acts her age, and like me, saves her wishes for more important things. Unlike our youngest Reed sister.”

  We stopped at the mouth of the cave, Jean muttering the whole time.

  “What?”

  “Where’s your Christmas spirit? I don’t remember you being this grumpy last year.”

  “I’m just waiting for Christmas, like a normal person, instead of going all Jingle-bell crazy before the Thanksgiving dishes have even dried like one abnormal person I know.”

  “Hey, I waited a whole week before Thanksgiving to play my holiday tunes in public. That’s a late start for Christmas music. It’s no fun to wait all the way until December.”

  “It’s not about fun, Jean.” I picked my way over the huge rocks that jutted out of the sand. “It’s about being a police officer who doesn’t wear a Santa hat for six weeks straight.”

  “What’s wrong with wearing a Santa hat?”

  “Along with a gun? It confuses people.”

  “Don’t hate on my hats just because Ryder’s been gone for two months.”

  Ryder, my long-time-crush and recent boyfriend, had been on a job building a new care center over in Bend.

  Our daily texts and long after-dinner phone calls had dwindled down to him sending me an occasional text every other day complaining about the weather, and how slow the project was going, and why no one could follow simple directions and do what they were contracted to do on the job site.

  I missed him. I hadn’t heard him say he missed me, which was making me worry that he’d been gone long enough to re-think our relationship. Re-think the spark that had drawn us together in the first place. Had we been drawn together because of a natural attraction or was he j
ust interested in the supernatural things that surrounded me and filled this town?

  I’d like to think it was natural attraction that brought us together. But Ordinary was full of unusual people, powers, and things, including vacationing gods and supernatural creatures. I was in charge of looking after everyone who lived here. Those duties meant Ryder’s and my relationship had already been tested by some heavy stuff. This year alone, I’d been shot twice in the line of duty. I’d bargained away my soul.

  Ryder had tied his life to a god of contracts who really didn’t like me or my sisters being the law here in Ordinary.

  I’d died.

  My heart stuttered and my stomach clenched. Every time I thought about that, it hit me hard. I licked my lips, tasting salt and pushing away those memories.

  Ryder had been there for all of that. Had been there for me. So why was I worried?

  He hadn’t made it home for Thanksgiving and wasn’t coming home for Christmas. That’s why I was worried.

  Looking at our lives through the high-stakes we had experienced could make the holiday less interesting. Less important. Would it matter if we missed our first Christmas together? Our relationship was strong enough to miss one holiday. We’d been there for each other when it really counted. Many times.

  When things were dangerous.

  But what about when things were happy? Safe?

  Worse, what about when things were boring?

  Just because we weren’t talking, never saw each other, and he hadn’t been brave enough to say he loved me (except for that one time when he was yelling it at a vampire) didn’t mean our relationship was sinking before it had even left the shore, right?

  I sighed. Maybe I was kidding myself. Maybe we were boring now. Maybe there was a big ole iceberg out there ready to sink this ship and it was time to deploy the floating door.

  “Has he said it to you yet?” Jean asked.

  Jean didn’t have mind reading abilities. Her family gift was that she knew when something bad was going to happen. Actual mind reading didn’t run in our family. Or at least I hoped it didn’t.

  “Not talking about it.”