by Sable Sylvan
“Sean…” started Ryan, walking up to the portal to touch its rippling magical surface. “Got any tips?”
“I did this last year,” said Sean. “I found my fated mate. It was hard work, but I’m back here, in Clan Marron, with my fated mate by my side, my mark on my chest, and my shift in my soul. Just try your hardest, listen to Krampus and the others, and follow your new shift…and follow your heart. Remember – even the Naughtiest of us can become Nice.”
“The others?” asked Ryan, but it was too late.
Before Sean could answer Ryan, Krampus had pushed Ryan through the portal and down the first steps of his fated path.
Chapter One
December 1st, 2008
Angelica Smith had just finished putting the fresh batch of peppermint sugar cookies in the display case when she heard her boss’s voice.
“Angelica? You got time to come back here and talk to me?” asked Angelica’s boss, Avery.
“Gimme a second,” said Angelica, closing the case and throwing away the piece of paper she’d used to transfer the baked goods to their display trays. “Coming.”
“Grab us a pair of pumpkin spice coffees, will you?” asked Avery. “Oh, and a pair of crullers.”
“On it, boss,” said Angelica.
Five minutes later, Angelica was bundled up in her surprisingly warm red hoodie and boots, sitting in the back of the Bear Claw Bakery with her boss, Avery.
“I can’t believe you can just sit out here wearing that,” said Angelica, motioning over Avery, who was wearing a pair of jeans, sneakers, and a short-sleeve polo shirt with the Bear Claw Bakery logo on it, with no jacket.
“Guess I’m used to this kind of weather,” said Avery. “I take it you didn’t take this job for the weather?”
“No, ma’am,” said Angelica. “The only cold I was interested in was the cold hard cash. That’s why I took the temp job. Heard someone mention that the Bear Claw Bakery location up in Montana needed a holiday worker. I ain’t here for adventure or drama. I’m just here to work hard and earn that Christmas overtime pay.”
“Smart girl,” said Avery. “In the last week alone, you’ve really helped me with the holiday rush. That’s why I wanted to meet with you, in private. I was wondering if you’d be willing to help me with another job, with overtime pay, of course.”
“Sure, what is it?” asked Angelica.
“I need help with a catering job,” said Avery. “My boss, the man who owns this branch of the Bear Claw Bakery, holds a big Christmas party every year. This year, he wants the bakery to cater the desserts section.”
“What sort of desserts?” asked Angelica.
“Cookies,” said Avery. “Lots of them. My boss loves’m. Finding cookie recipes he likes isn’t the hard part. The hard part is baking enough cookies to feed his entire company.”
“His entire company? What’s that, like, twenty people? Fifty?” asked Angelica. “We can handle that, no sweat.”
“It’s…a bit bigger than that,” said Avery. “Anyway, I can count on you to help me?”
“Abso-frikkin’-lutely,” said Angelica. “I’m here to bake. I’m not here to mess around. Business before pleasure.”
“Even on Christmas?” asked Avery.
“Christmas was never that special in my house,” said Angelica, sipping her latte. “We never had much.”
“Not even on Christmas?” asked Avery.
“Especially not on Christmas,” said Angelica. “Prices go up before Christmas, not down. My family lived paycheck to paycheck. My grandma, she was on a fixed income. She could never afford to get me a gift. She made it up to me on my birthdays, with her baking. I’m not mad about it or anything. It was just…just the way things were. That was my normal. “
“You must’ve had something under the tree,” said Avery.
“Nope,” said Angelica. “Never had a Christmas present. Not holding my breath about getting any this year either. At least it taught me the value of a dollar — heck, that’s why I came up here in the first place, to make some money. I’m not poor anymore — I’m not rich or anything either. But I still remember what it was like to be hungry — yes, I used to be a stick-thin thing, but working at a bakery and getting to take home the day-olds helped me put on curves. I’m thrifty and save up as much money as I can. For instance, this ratty warm red hoodie I’m wearing, I’ve had it for years.”
“Wow, I would’ve never guessed,” said Avery.
“Because I’m all usually smiles?” asked Angelica. “They say you should never trust a skinny chef — or a skinny baker. Who would trust a sad baker, especially around Christmas? What would a customer rather see? A happy, curvy baker, or one who’s sad because she’s never had a real Christmas? I know how to do my job, Avery, and Christmas, it’s just another day to me. All this, it’s just business. It’s as plain and simple as a hot cup of Christmas tea.”
Angelica scanned the lake as she talked to Avery.
“What’s the deal with the island over there anyway?” asked Angelica.
“Oh, in the center of the lake? That’s Camp Kringle,” said Avery. “And…if my eyes don’t betray me, some visitors from Camp Kringle are coming our way.”
Angelica looked over the island. There was a pier. She’d never noticed it before, but then again, she’d been spending all her time inside the bakery, not lollygagging about on the patio. At the pier, two men were messing around with a boat, and a large black garbage bag full of something Angelica half suspected must be a dead body they were going to dump in the lake.
“Huh,” said Angelica, sipping at her coffee. “Special delivery?”
“Kinda,” said Avery. “Camp Kringle’s owned by the same man that owns the bakery, so, any pastries they need at the camp, the owner takes care of that. They have an open tab here. Just put their receipts in the red drawer, and I’ll count’m up at the end of the month.”
“Got it,” said Angelica, watching the boat, which was now on the water, being rowed by hand towards the bakery. “Camp Kringle, huh? What’s that, some sort of a summer camp?”
“More like a winter camp,” said Avery. “It’s a Christmas tree farm. The guy who runs it is frustrating. Don’t let him get your goat.”
“Sounds like you two have some chemistry,” joked Angelica.
“He’s a bad boy,” said Avery. “Not my type at all. All the men who work at the camp are bad boys.”
“Bad boys? Good to know,” said Angelica. “I’ll make sure to keep my distance.”
“You can try,” said Avery, sipping her coffee.
“I ‘can try’? What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Angelica.
“I don’t want to say anything that’ll get in your head,” said Avery.
“I’m not just a curvy girl, I’m a big girl,” said Angelica. “Try me on for size, and make it plus-size.”
“Last year, the temp worker at the bakery ended up falling in love with the temp lumberjack at Camp Kringle,” said Avery.
“And? Did they get a happily ever after?” asked Angelica.
“Yeah,” said Avery.
“Good for them,” said Angelica. “But, answer me honestly. Was there drama?”
“Oh, yeah, tons of it,” said Avery.
“Then you don’t have to worry about me getting distracted by some lumberjack,” said Angelica. “I’m not here for drama. I’m just here for business.”
“Honey, when Fate’s got her fingers in your plum pudding, you never know what’s gonna happen,” said Avery.
“I’m not a shifter, so I think I’m immune from Fate’s machinations,” said Angelica.
Angelica watched as the boat drew nearer. Heading the boat was a man with a goatish look, with black curly hair and a short beard, wearing a red and black flannel shirt with dark green work pants. Behind him was a man, shirtless, with short brown hair and brown stubble. Across his chest was one word, in stop sign red: ‘Naughty.’
“Don’t you love when dangerous things come
with a warning label telling you to stay away?” asked Angelica.
“Heck yes,” said Avery, clinking glasses with Angelica.
The boat finally reached the small dock set up outside of the Bear Claw Bakery. Most businesses on the lake, especially those that sold food, had a dock. Summer tourists would dock their boats at restaurants to pick up meals to go.
The man in flannel stood on the dock while the shirtless man did all the work, tying the boat to the pier. Angelica couldn’t help but stare at the shirtless man. He was tall, with powerful arms and firm shoulders, a body honed by hard work. Who was this sexy, mysterious stranger?
“No,” said Angelica, once she spotted the man’s face. “No frikkin’ way.”
“What’s wrong?” asked Avery.
“I know that lumberjack,” said Angelica.
“Boy, hurry up,” said the man in flannel. “Good. Now grab the package and carry it, carefully, or we’ll have to do all this again.”
“Fine,” said the shirtless man in an all too familiar voice.
The man in flannel started to walk up the dock to the patio where Angelica and Avery were sitting.
“Avery,” said the man curtly. “And you must be Angelica.”
“How did you know my name?” asked Angelica.
“Avery mentioned she had a new temp worker,” said the man. “Pleasure to meet you. Name’s Krampus.”
“Hey Krampus,” said Angelica. “I’d introduce myself, but you already know my name.”
“What’s in the bag?” asked Avery. “You have your own dumpster. Don’t see why you need to use mine.”
“Last year, you complained I didn’t bring you a tree,” said Krampus. “Thought I’d deliver it early this year. Ryan? Hurry up. What are you waiting for?”
Ryan had stopped on the dock, captivated by the sight of the familiar woman. He picked the bag up again and carried it up to the patio, hoping the woman wouldn’t remember him.
“Avery, Angelica, this is my temp worker this year. His name’s Ryan,” said Krampus.
“Oh, I know Ryan,” said Angelica with a smirk.
“You…do?” asked Avery, although Krampus did not look surprised.
“Yeah, Ryan and I go way back,” said Angelica. “What’s wrong, Ryan? You come out to The Wreath because there’s no more grannies left to rob back in Nuthusk?”
“You two have a history?” asked Angelica.
“To call it a history would be putting it lightly. You know the story of Little Red Riding Hood? Well, imagine that, but with a bear shifter instead of a wolf,” said Angelica. “Every single year, for my birthday, my grandmother would make me a pie, and every single year, she’d put it on the windowsill to cool, and every single year…”
“…I stole the pie,” said Ryan. “It wasn’t ‘every’ year. I only did it twelve times.”
“You stole the pie!” shouted Angelica. “And you never repaid her or apologized! To her or to me!”
“I take it it’s a little late for a ‘sorry’ now?” asked Ryan.
“You think?” asked Angelica. “I’ve never seen your mate mark before, Ryan, but I’ve never known someone to have a mate mark that’s more accurate. ‘Naughty’ is putting it lightly.”
“Not to stop this little reunion, but, Avery, you want this tree set up, yes?” asked Krampus.
“Yeah. Put it where the tree was set up last year — over that burn mark you left in my floor, that you promised to frikkin’ buff or varnish out or whatever, but never frikkin’ did! It looks like a giant frikkin’ coffee stain!” hissed Avery.
“So, you don’t want the tree?” asked Krampus. “Want me to chop it into firewood for you instead?”
“No, I want the tree. I’ll go show you where the tree stand is,” grumbled Avery. “Your order’s ready as well. Come on.”
Krampus grabbed the giant bag and followed Avery inside, leaving Angelica and Ryan alone on the patio.
“Don’t suppose I can make it up to you in any way?” asked Ryan. “I work at this club, Bear Buns, and—”
“I’m sure my granny would love tickets to see her pie thief strip down and collect loads of cash,” said Angelica.
“Really?” asked Ryan.
“No,” said Angelica. “Ryan…what are the chances of you even being here when I’m here?”
“Must be Fate,” said Ryan.
“Oh, no, don’t start with that Fate bullshizz,” said Angelica. “I may have grown up in Nuthusk, but I’m not a shifter, Ryan.”
“Look, Angelica, I wanna make things right,” said Ryan.
“And I want to have a drama-free Christmas,” said Angelica. “The best thing you can do is stay away.”
“That’s going to be pretty hard, given I’m going to be showing up here daily to grab the pastries and coffee for Krampus,” said Ryan.
“Here’s the deal, Ryan,” said Angelica. “You and I can never be friends. We’ll definitely never be lovers. Trust me, I know bear shifters, I know their type, and I know a picture of me is in the Big Fat Shifter Dictionary, next to the word ‘Fated Mate Potential.’ You’ve ruined twelve of my first eighteen birthdays for me, and I think you only missed six because you were either too young to steal the pies, came down with the flu or something around my birthday, or, you plain ol’ forgot.”
“Why does it sound like you’re trying to convince yourself of all that, rather than convince me?” teased Ryan.
“I want this to be crystal clear, Ryan. You have no shot with me,” claimed Angelica.
“Oh, is that so?” asked Ryan. ‘You claim to know better than Fate?”
“First of all — don’t start talking to me about Fate,” said Angelica with a laugh. “We grew up in the same dang shifter town! I know how the mate marks work — they lead shifters to their fated mates, and I guess some special shiny light show happens when a shifter ‘claims’ their fated mate. That means getting your mate underneath the sheets, which, trust me, will never happen with me. Secondly, you’re the one that doesn’t remember that not everything’s about you, and not everyone’s a shifter. I’m just a regular human. No fated mate. So even if I was yours…there’s no reason for me to be with you. I don’t have a fated mate, but if I did, I know it wouldn’t be you, Ryan.”
“That’s a lot of talk from a woman that claims she doesn’t want me to claim her,” claimed Ryan. “Guess that means I’ll just have to go find someone else in town with curves like yours…an impossible task.”
“In fact, you best not bring any special girl around here, or I might just have to explain all that to her too,” said Angelica, crossing her arms. “Now, you may have to see me daily to grab Krampus’ usual order, but that doesn’t mean you’ll be anything but a regular.”
“Any other shots you want to get in before I head back to Camp Kringle?” asked Ryan. “Maybe something about me having a small dick?”
“No, Ryan, because, as you may recall, two summers ago, I accidentally happened upon you skinny dipping, and I know what you’re packing,” said Angelica. “It’s a crying shame, Ryan. If you’d only managed to keep your hands off those birthday pies, maybe you’d be getting into my cherry pie. You’re a handsome man with quite the present between your legs. Too bad the pretty package contains straight-up trash.”
“So you think I’m sexy, right?” asked Ryan.
Angelica rolled her eyes and went back into the bakery. Ryan was handsome. He had impish good looks and a taste for mischief she may’ve liked in another life. But she lived in a world where imps weren’t real, and mischief was something that needed to be avoided because it only led to trouble…so why on earth had she revealed to Ryan that a small, teeny-tiny part of her, thought that Ryan was the most handsome man she’d ever met?
Chapter Two
December 2nd, 2008
“Nope,” said Krampus, waving his hand. “Again.”
The tree in front of Ryan bristled as it grew back its branches and twigs.
“What was wrong with that one
?” asked Ryan.
“I didn’t like it,” said Krampus. “Bit asymmetrical. Try again.”
Ryan put the safety mask back on and went back to trimming the tree.
Fifteen minutes later, Krampus waved his hand again and made Ryan try again.
“What’s the point of this exercise anyway?” asked Ryan.
“You’re building real muscles, from work, not from dancing,” said Krampus. “You can do a five to fifteen-minute set, great. The Ride lasts all night. You need to build endurance. That’s why you have to use those rusty ass clippers to trim these trees. When you can do that ten times in a row without fail, we can move onto other exercises. You know the drill. That’s why you had to chop trees for the first few weeks. That was easy, compared to this, wasn’t it?”
“Whatever,” said Ryan, going back to trimming the tree and making a mistake, lopping off a big branch of the tree on accident.
“You’re distracted,” said Krampus, waving his hand. “You’re thinking about that girl, or what you did to her grandma’s pies. Tell me, why did you steal the pies?”
“I wasn’t before, but now, I am,” lied Ryan, trimming the tree once Krampus’s magic had set. “I ate the pies. What else do you do with a pie?”
“Maybe you stuck your dick in it,” said Krampus. “I’m not one to judge. I’m a demon. I’ve seen a lot of crazy shit. You can stop for now. It’s time for another set of exercises.”
“Not the fucking rowing,” cursed Ryan, his mark burning.
Should know better by now than to curse, said Dancer.
What a stupid fucking rule, thought Ryan and his mark burned again. What the fuck? I didn’t even say it out loud that time! Ryan’s mark burned a third time.
Every reindeer makes rules for their ward, explained Dancer. I don’t like cursing. So fucking sue me.