Wicked Winters: A Collection of Winter Tales

by Lucy Smoke

  Leven straightened his back, shadows dancing under his eyes. He banged the empty bottle down on the counter and marched outside, letting the door slam behind him.

  After a few moments of silence, I hopped off my stool and followed him outside, well aware of how it felt to be forced into situations. And I wanted to understand what his problem was and if it was because of me.

  Leven stood several feet away from the door, his back to the building, one leg bent, his foot resting against the wall, his hands deep in the pockets of his jacket. His sandy-colored hair swayed in the wind, and he was deliciously hot. My insides fluttered.

  He turned to stare at me. “Are you okay?” His voice was deep and gravelly, and it turned me on when it shouldn’t have.

  “Thought I’d get fresh air. So much has happened recently.”

  “Yeah.” He returned to staring out in the distance, and I joined him, resting my back against the cobblestone wall, still unable to believe what I’d gone through since we’d arrived in Austria. Adjusting to a new home and business, then discovering Santa Claus was real—and so were magical reindeer shifters. Yep, I had definitely stepped into the twilight zone.

  I broke the silence. “What was that about inside? You walked off without saying a word.”

  “You’d be safer here with two of us looking after you instead of taking you into the woods. Krampus could split us up, and we’d be easier to defeat.”

  “Both options have their merits,” I said.

  Leven shrugged.

  I twisted to face him, yet he didn’t meet my stare. “I’m sure Tatum has considered all options. It kind of makes sense that we all stick together.”

  Leven huffed and pushed off the wall to walk away, but I grabbed his wrist. “What are you so pissed about?”

  “I don’t agree.” He pulled his hand free from mine. “I’ve seen similar missions go haywire. What if he’s out there watching and planning to split us up? One wrong move and he’s got you. He’ll kill you without hesitation.” His brow wrinkled in a dozen lines and worry crammed behind his gaze.

  The darkening of his voice troubled me because if he was this worried, maybe we should reconsider the whole plan again. But the more I thought about it, the more I hated the idea of splitting up from the men. Being around all three felt safer.

  Yet the fear lining his words reminded me of the times I’d lived in foster homes. Everything in my life always came back to my parents and what they’d done to me. I feared they’d find a way to hurt me again. So was Leven’s reaction to the plan due to his past and less to do with me?

  “I’ve lived my life with the fear that my parents would kill me one day.” The words were sour on my tongue, but if I wanted him to open up, I had to be willing to do the same. For too long, I’d kept the past hidden, and in a strange way, it was liberating to unleash those dark memories.

  “Why would your parents ever want to kill you?” He turned to face me.

  This was the time I’d normally shy away and make a lame excuse to change the topic, but staring deeply into his eyes, I wanted to be honest. To finally tell another person about my past so I didn’t have to pretend to be someone else. That sometimes I’d snap, or I’d feel trapped and claustrophobic for no reason, that I yearned more than anything to have a normal life without always looking over my shoulder. I gave Leven a quick rundown of my horrid parents, my upbringing, their imprisonment, foster homes, and right down to arriving at this place. Okay, it was an extremely fast rendition, but I couldn’t stop the babbling. And he simply listened and somewhere along the way, he’d taken my hand into his.

  He drew me into his arms. My head reached his chest, and he wrapped me in his arms. “No one will hurt you again.” His embrace tightened, and I let myself melt against his rock-hard body. I inhaled his musky, sexy scent. If being protected involved such closeness, well, I needed it twenty-four-seven. I couldn’t deny I was attracted to Leven, in fact to all three guys, and I normally pushed people away. But with these three, I desired nothing more than to have them touch me all over.

  “Three years and two months ago, I took my parents and sister on a trip into Alaska,” Leven began, but he didn’t release me, so I stayed locked in his arms, listening.

  “Before we arrived, Krampus ambushed us. He demanded I take him into the Workshop undetected or he’d kill my family. I was stupid and called his bluff. I made the worst mistake of my life.” Leven’s words hung in the icy air, and I looped my arms around his waist, holding him, well aware that such a loss was like having your insides scooped out with a rusty bulldozer.

  “That’s so fucked up. What the hell is wrong with Krampus?” I lifted my chin to look up at Leven, meeting his darkening gaze. His cheeks were rosy from the cold, and all I thought about was taking him inside and holding him until all the sorrow ebbed from his body. But I knew better than anyone that such darkness never left. I just learned to live with the grief and blame, and not let it own me. Some days were easier than others.

  “Krampus is an original enchanted being. No one knows how old he is. History says Krampus and the first Santa were both created by the gods of heaven to bring cheer to the world. They were brothers meant to uphold the balance of joy at Christmas time, to bring families together, to elicit smiles from children who weren’t fortune enough to receive gifts from family. Krampus kept the troublemaking kids in order. The pair were inseparable and both lived at the Workshop. But something went wrong one year, and legend explained that Santa fell gravely ill. On his deathbed, one of the elves who worked in the shop put on Santa’s hat as a way to cheer him up, but when Santa died, the elf, still wearing his hat, drank a glass of whiskey to salute his passing and kissed him as a final gesture.”

  “He became the next Santa, didn’t he?” I said.

  Leven nodded. “He felt the power surge through his veins at once, but ever since then, the hat keeps finding a new owner every thirty to forty years, even if the previous Santa is still alive. It’s as if the hat just can’t find the right owner. And now it’s become a custom to find the next heir to the sleigh.”

  “I’m guessing Krampus is pissed he’s been stuck living all this time on his own?”

  “Well, the first elf Santa banned Krampus from the Workshop because he never treated elves well. Since then, Krampus has been furious and threatening to take back the throne he claims belongs to him. And in the last few years, his attacks have escalated. He’s angry and maddened by the rejection from the Workshop. He only thinks of bloodshed. The time for peaceful talks is long over.”

  Processing everything he’d told me left me stunned, because he was right. Krampus would never stop fighting, yet part of me pitied him for losing his brother, then being cast out from his home. Anyone would be pissed. But that didn’t excuse him killing innocents, such as Leven’s family. The bloodshed had been going on for so long now, and both sides were seeking retribution. And here I was part of that cycle now. So how safe was Britta?

  My thoughts circled to Leven doing a circle similar to my grandma to ward off evil. But if Santa and Krampus had been brothers, had they been the representations of the good and evil sides of humanity?

  “I’m so sorry about your loss,” I said.

  Leven tucked a finger under my chin, lifting my head to meet his eyes. He stared with such intensity that I let myself fall into the pools of his green irises, which were like a clear lake in a dark forest. He had that kind of face that would stop me in my tracks if I ever passed him on a sidewalk. His nonchalant gaze and soft smile probably made women fall for him. There was something of the warrior in him that made my heart rush. And he knew the impact he had on women by the light twitch at the corners of his mouth.

  I couldn’t help but blush, and a genuine grin spread across his face, morphing him from gorgeous to absolutely divine. Now my entire body flushed because he was a man I could stare at for eternity.

  When he leaned closer, my breath caught in my throat. His lips grazed against mine, soft and
passionate, his fingers digging into my back with a desperation that did delectable things to my insides. My world vanished instantly. I closed my eyes and all I could feel was his touch and warmth.

  I raised myself on tippy-toes and met his kiss, opening my mouth for him, accepting his tongue. I loved how sweet he tasted, almost like candy canes. We mashed together, chest to chest, his teeth gently gnawing on my lower lip. I slid my hands to the back of his neck, pulling him toward me. Our breaths tangled together, and my whole body craved more of him—he was intoxicating.

  He lifted me off my feet with ease and pinned me to the wall, his hardness pressed against my lower stomach, despite the layers of clothes between us. His hand sailed over my stomach and up to my breast. He pinched my nipple, kneading me. I swallowed the groan of pleasure.

  “Leven,” I breathed into his mouth, and he kissed me hungrily. His body pressed against mine harder. I clenched my thighs together.

  My whole body tingled with urgency to have more of him, and all I could picture was him, naked in the sauna, and how divine he’d looked.

  Someone cleared their throat, and Leven broke our kiss, but he remained over me, protective.

  Tatum and Jax watched us from the doorway, wearing grins, and was that arousal in their eyes? My face burned at having them catching us kissing.

  “We’re about to leave,” Tatum said. “Get ready. Nickie, you may want to put on warmer clothes.”

  They both headed down the path toward the woods while Leven turned back to me. Our faces were less than an inch apart, and his lips brushed my ear as he spoke. “We’re not finished here by a long shot.”

  He kissed my nose, my cheeks, and my mouth, then he pulled away, taking my hand. I walked alongside him, hand in hand, unable to believe that I’d felt such a strong attraction and arousal in a time when grief swallowed me. But being near Leven eased the agony, and for the first time in too long, my loneliness was bearable.

  9

  “The birch trees are around here somewhere,” Jax said, staring up into the canopy overhead. The dense woods crowded together, and in some locations, they blotted out the gray sky completely. Shadows seemed to follow us on our journey, and I’d spent half my time scanning the woods, the other trying not to trip over stuff.

  “We’ve been walking for hours.” I trudged through the thick snow swallowing my boots. Leven never once left my side, his gaze swinging left and right. Tatum walked behind me, while Jax took the lead, insisting he knew where he’d seen the trees. But I had my doubts, considering how long we’d been traveling. Plus, I was freezing despite the layers of clothes I’d dragged on before we left. Each time Leven took my gloved hand, his warmth fluttered through me, and I swore I was behaving like a schoolgirl with my first crush. But I’d never felt this way around anyone else back in California. Leven was a guy who could have walked off the cover of a men’s health magazine, and he was paying me attention!

  “Let’s stop and regroup,” Tatum said, and I was glad to rest because my legs were screaming. Walking through snow might have been a fantastic way to tone my thighs, but I’d had enough.

  Jax glanced over his shoulder at us. “Maybe I can spot them from higher up.”

  Leven nodded and joined Jax, offering him his interlaced hands. He pushed his friend higher into a nearby tree. The low, steady branches made for an easier climb. Though I suspected if it were me, I’d struggle. Living in the city most of my life, I’d never gotten the chance to scramble up trees as a child. The most nature I’d been exposed to was the local park, which had consisted of lawn and a set of swings.

  Tatum stepped alongside me, and he took my elbow. My stomach tingled at his nearness.

  “Let’s take a seat.” He drew me to a dead log and brushed off the snow with his gloved hand before we sat.

  “My legs thank you.” I smiled, and he bowed his head in a gesture that didn’t fit his strong demeanor, but I appreciated the gesture nonetheless. “So you help lead and train the reserve team, I hear. Must mean you train endlessly.”

  He nodded, and I followed his line of sight to Jax halfway up the tree, easily pouncing from one branch to another. Leven stood underneath, ready to catch his friend in case he slipped. And it amazed me to witness how close these men were, how they looked out for each other, just as I would do with Britta. I wished my parents would’ve been half-decent and offered us the kind of life where we hadn’t cringed whenever night hit, where Britta hadn’t woken up crying from nightmares, and where I could remember one Christmas where I hadn’t felt guilty for not giving my sister everything she deserved.

  “You want to know why I’m leading the backup team?” he asked, bitterness lining his words. But before I could respond, he said, “My group is better than the elite. I can take any of them down in a heartbeat. Except we weren’t selected by Santa to be part of his guards. And it had nothing to do with ability. It was all about friends of friends. So yeah, the team is elitist, all right.”

  “So you’re a bit bitter about it?” I teased, and when he looked my way, I wasn’t sure how he’d take it. But when he smiled, I eased.

  “My previous job,” I continued, “had a boys’ club. The manager and few of the senior guys used to band together and leave others out. It sucks.”

  “My grandfather was in an elite group. He brought me up on tales about traveling with Santa. Like the time a big storm hit and they lost gifts over a beach in Honolulu. They spent an hour collecting them and managed to salvage each present. Though most kids that year probably wondered why there was a trail of sand peppered around their gifts. Grandpa’s eyes used to gleam each time he spoke of those times, and that was when I knew I wanted to train in the guard and become an elite.”

  “Who said it’s too late to do that?” I asked.

  “It is too late. The reindeer selected will be picked from the elite and reserve teams, and I’m their trainer, which omits me from being chosen. So there’s no hope for me.”

  “Do you regret taking on the leader role?” I swiveled on the log to face him, worried I’d been too direct. My old boss at the bar used to say I had a sharp tongue, but it never came from a place of spitefulness.

  “Some days,” he admitted, and right then, he looked older than Jax and Leven—and maybe he was. And he was definitely serious most of the time. I guessed they were all in their late twenties.

  “I’m proud of any Arietes under my training who gets selected. And you will make a fine Santa when the time comes.” His darkened gaze spoke of annoyance and frustration, while other emotions swam beneath his calm features.

  “You’re not a fan of someone like me taking the role?” A sharp pain settled in my chest at the idea of him thinking I wasn’t good enough.

  He shifted toward me. “On the contrary. But the reserve squad are forbidden from interacting with Santa after he—or she—selects their guards.” He got to his feet and marched toward Leven, staring up at Jax.

  His words floated on my mind. I was surprised there would be so many rules in the Workshop. When I imagined Santa’s place, I pictured everyone drunk on eggnog, wearing dorky Christmas sweaters, and dancing with elves. Maybe I’d watched too many movies. But one thing was clear, despite Tatum calling the shots, he hated regulations and restrictions. I could relate because I’d grown up with dozens of rules.

  Never leave my bedroom during the night. If Mom and Dad were screaming, I was to be as quiet as a mouse. When my father called me, I had to be in front of him in ten seconds or get belted. I’d loathed being at his beck and call. Hated how he’d slap or kick me when I’d passed him, as if I were a nuisance, and maybe I had been, but I hadn’t asked to be born to them.

  Jax hooted, and I jumped to my feet, scanning the woodland around us. Was Krampus close? I rushed over to Leven, and he looped an arm around my waist, drawing me to his side. His body was hard and warm, and near him, I felt safe. That was ridiculous because I’d looked after myself my whole life, but it was liberating to have someone else. Plus, I
couldn’t stop thinking about his kiss, how my lips still tingled at the memory. I had no clue what was going on between us, especially when I found myself strangely attracted to all three men. Except where exactly would this go? It was ridiculous to think I’d become the next Santa. My place was with Britta at the distillery, running the business.

  Jax leaped to the ground, the snow squishing under his boots from the impact. “You won’t believe what I saw.” He wore the widest smirk.

  “Not Krampus I hope?” I asked.

  “Even better!” Jax said.

  “I somehow doubt that since he has Britta, and—”

  “I found the Ho Wagon.” He broke into a laugh, the sound piercing and coming from a deep place in his chest. Tatum gave a half-grin and patted him on the shoulder. What the hell were they going talking about?

  Jax glanced at me and ran a gloved finger down my nose. “Come. You’ll want to see this.” He dragged me alongside him, away from Leven, and practically carrying me to keep up with his long strides.

  “Did you find my van?” I asked, but he gave no response, and we moved with such speed, I was puffing.

  When Jax halted, I caught my breath. All three of the men stared up, and I followed their gazes.

  An oversized golden sleigh sat on several crisscrossing boughs.

  “Holy shit!” I swore. “Is that—?”

  “The Ho Wagon,” Jax said, interrupting. “It’s where Santa does all his Ho Ho Hos.” And he broke into a chuckle, gaining himself a glare from Tatum.

  Except my attention was back on the freaking sled, unable to believe my eyes. Golden as the sun, it resembled an elaborate topless carriage, and snowflake patterns were engraved along the side of the body. Its nose curved upward and a door on the side led to the driver’s seat.

  Butterflies swarmed my stomach. Being told about Santa and even seeing Krampus was one thing, but this… I gasped, and everyone turned to me as I gushed the word, “Santa Claus is real!”