“I don’t get what decorating a tree has to do with training me to be a reindeer shifter,” said Ethan, arms crossed, glitter from the ornaments covering his shirt.
“You’re a klutz. You fell over the rowboat, trying to grab a little bush, for Lucy’s sake,” said Krampus. “We’re working on your fine motor skills…which really, aren’t that fine.”
“Don’t know what you expected would happen when you kidnapped a billionaire,” said Ethan. “We’re not known for being an athletic bunch.”
“You didn’t even play some rich boy shit like golf? Bocce ball? Hunting your fellow man?” asked Krampus. “Amateur hour.”
“Okay, okay,” said Ethan. “I could’ve taken up squash or something. Never did. Never had the time.”
“Well, you’re running out of it,” said Krampus. “You’ve only got until Christmas Day to get off The Naughty List, get back your mark, and claim your fated mate, Ethan. Otherwise, you lose your shift and your Clan. Maybe even your billions.”
“I know,” said Ethan, cracking an ornament in his hand.
“And…again,” ordered Krampus, causing the ornament to reassemble in Ethan’s hand.
“Fuckin’ demoncraft,” said Ethan. “Could make a fortune on this in the real world.”
Ethan winced as his mark burned.
Nah-nah, teased Prancer. I can say ‘fuck and you can’t.
What exactly do you have against cursing? asked Ethan.
Nothing – I just like torturing you, squealed Prancer.
Yeah, well, it’s really fuckin’ – oww! thought Ethan. I didn’t even say it out loud that time!
I can make that mark burn whenever I frikkin’ want, said Prancer. It’s all up to me.
“This is the real world. Why are you focusing on money when you should be focused on getting off The Naughty List?” asked Krampus. “By now, you know not to curse. Don’t see why it takes you boys so long to get out of the habit.”
“At least I found a fated mate,” said Ethan.
“And what makes you so sure of that?” asked Krampus.
“Her curves,” admitted Ethan. “Her sass. Nobody’s sassed me like that in years.”
“Because what every girl wants to hear is that your dick gets hard when she’s mean to you,” said Krampus. “Do things in the right order, Ethan. Get off The Naughty List. Get back your mate mark and your shift. Then, go claim your mate.”
“Wasn’t putting off my search for a fated mate what got me here in the first place?” asked Ethan.
You had to go and do it, said Prancer. You had to go and sass a demon. I’ll be speaking at your funeral, kid – about how you’re a dumbass! Dumb bear? I don’t know, but, the point is, you’re about to get an earful.
“What got you here was doing things out of order,” said Krampus. “There’s no magic legal and tax dream team you can call in to get you out of this kerfuffle. The only HR department is run by Fate.”
“Okay, okay, I get it,” said Ethan. “How much do I have to pay you to get you to stop using business metaphors?”
And now you done and gone did it, said Prancer with a sigh. And here I was, hoping you wouldn’t get killed by a demon before Christmas. Rest in peace.
Krampus rolled his eyes and ate the last pastry.
“It’s time to go to the bakery,” said Krampus. “Come on. You’re doing a thousand push-ups when you get back. Hope you like push-ups – because as you may have heard, you are doing a thousand of them.”
Fuckin’ Krampus, cursed Ethan. His mark burned.
“Fine, make it two,” said Krampus.
“I didn’t even say anything!” insisted Ethan.
“Doesn’t take a mind-reader to know what you were thinking,” answered Krampus.
* * *
Carol was in the kitchen, baking up a storm with Avery, when she heard a knock at the back door.
“Can you grab that?” asked Avery, rolling out some dough.
“Got it, boss,” said Carol.
Carol went to the back door and opened it.
“Hey,” said Carol, greeting Ethan and Krampus.
“Sup,” said Ethan in a voice that didn’t sound like it was asking a question.
“Order’s ready,” said Carol. “Right back here.”
“I’ll get it today,” said Krampus.
“And why would that be?” asked Avery, coming out to the patio.
“Here,” said Krampus, passing Avery a box. “I brought you this.”
“What is this?” asked Avery.
“I’ll show you,” said Krampus, leading Avery by the small of her back. “It’s, uh…for my daily order.”
“Oh,” said Avery. “Wait. What’s this?”
Avery picked a piece of straw off of Krampus’s shirt.
“Huh, weird,” said Krampus. “Don’t know where I would’ve caught that.”
“Probably rolling around in a barn with a farmer’s daughter,” said Avery, rolling her eyes. “You’re a sly devil. Carol, get Ethan something to eat. Boy looks famished. Put the receipt in the candy cane colored drawer. Santana handles that bill himself at the end of the month.”
Krampus and Avery went into the kitchen, leaving Carol with Ethan.
“Come on,” said Carol, leading Ethan to the bakery. “Figure out what you want.”
“A donut, and a coffee, and — “ started Ethan, cutting in front of a family of five.
“Who raised you? Were you raised in a barn?” asked Carol.
“No. I was raised in Clan Marron, a prestigious bear shifter Clan,” said Ethan, confused.
At least that answered Carol’s question about where he was from, who raised him, and what kind of shifter he was. Ethan’s hands didn’t look like those of a bear shifter. Carol knew bear shifters, and she’d never seen one with paws like Ethan’s. The mark didn’t form a pawprint. It formed something closer to a hoofprint. Carol shook the thought out of her head. Bears didn’t have hooves, and he’d just said he was a bear. She must’ve been mistaken.
“I’m sure your Clan Elders taught you to get in line and wait your turn,” said Carol. “Don’t know where you picked up the habit of cutting in line, but it sure as shit wasn’t Washington.”
“New York,” said Ethan.
“What?” asked Carol. “Just. Get in line. Explain later.”
Carol took the register from her coworker, Deborah, and served the large family of five. Luckily, all they wanted was cookies, a quick order. Carol tossed in an order of five free peppermint hot chocolates, with extra marshmallows, because they’d had to wait while she scolded Ethan.
“Now, what do you want?” asked Carol.
“Two coffees, three breakfast sandwiches, and…” trailed off Ethan.
“A partridge in a pear tree?” guessed Carol.
“…A chance to explain myself to you,” said Ethan.
“Fine,” said Carol.
Carol made the order. Deborah took over the register. Carol carried the order to one of the free tables in the cafe. Ethan and Carol sat in two comfy armchairs separated by a medium sized table.
“Okay,” said Carol, sipping at the cup of peppermint tea she’d poured herself. “Dish.”
“I was raised right,” said Ethan. “I went rotten when I left my Clan.”
“You got kicked out?” asked Carol. “Banished?”
“No,” said Ethan. “I moved away for college and started to change. I thought that was okay, and it probably was. Then, I got a job in New York City. The big city. So different than the town I grew up in, Nuthusk, where, wherever you turned, you were bound to bump into someone’s little old grandma or a brood of shifter cubs. For the first time in my life, I could get in trouble. And I did. And that bad boy attitude, it helped me. I soared through business school like an eagle shifter. I worked my way up the ranks, got the experience I needed, left, started my own business, and now…”
“Now, what?” asked Carol.
“I guess I got out of touch with my roots,
” said Ethan. “I was used to having a secretary who got my coffee for me. I was used to having everything I wanted, whenever I wanted it.”
“And then you got sent here,” said Carol.
“My Clan sent me here to relearn my values,” said Ethan. “But I’m changing because I want to, Carol. Nobody’s making me. If I do things that annoy you, you have to let me know. I don’t want to be a bad boy anymore, but old habits die harder than feral werebears.”
“Okay, well, for starters, you gotta start leaving your muddy ass shoes outside,” said Carol. “Secondly, don’t make a mess in the kitchen. You know how long I spent trying to pick up all the splinters that came off that frikkin’ ax of yours, lumberjack? I even got a splinter.”
Carol held up a finger, wrapped in a candy cane patterned bandage.
Ethan took Carol’s finger and undid the bandage. Before she could react, Ethan had her finger in his mouth, and he was sucking on it, hard. Carol’s legs turned to jelly. A huge hunk was sucking on her finger like a porn star sucking on a costar’s clit. She felt a quick pain and winced. Ethan kept her finger in his mouth for two more seconds then gave it back to her.
Ethan opened his mouth and put a finger on his tongue. He used a paper napkin and tapped his finger on the napkin.
“That splinter?” asked Ethan.
“Okay, that was cool, I’ll admit that,” said Carol. “But Ethan, you can’t go around randomly slipping gals’ fingers up your mouth! Just ain’t right!”
“Ethan,” said a voice. “Let’s go.”
Krampus was standing behind the counter, the mysterious wooden box in hand.
“Coming, boss,” said Ethan, who could barely believe he was calling a literal devil his boss, even though attending business school meant he was basically fated to work for the force of evil.
Avery came out to sit next to Carol, taking Ethan’s place.
“Thanks for keeping him out of the kitchen,” said Avery. “That boy made a mess the last time he stepped foot in there.”
“I handled that too,” said Carol. “I talked to him about how he needs to be more considerate of people.”
“Oh, a pet project?” asked Avery. “A little fixer-upper for the holiday season? Well, don’t let it distract you from the Secret Santana party.”
“I won’t,” said Carol. “I want to take another day to think about the menu.”
“Good,” said Avery. “As long as it’s on your mind, that’s good enough for me.”
“I don’t have to have a talk with you about not getting distracted by that Krampus fellow, now, do I?” asked Carol.
Avery’s cheeks turned cherry gumdrop red.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” lied Avery.
“Come on,” said Carol. “You two have chemistry, Avery. Loads of it.”
“He’s just a coworker,” said Avery, blushing harder.
“Uh-huh,” said Carol, sipping at her tea before getting up to get back to work. “Sure he is.”
Chapter Three
December 5th, 2009
“Grab the box,” said Krampus.
“What is this thing, anyway?” asked Ethan.
“You better not try to replicate it at your company,” said Krampus.
“My staff’s evil, but they aren’t demons, so I don’t think they could use your demoncraft to make this,” said Ethan.
“The chains around my neck are magic,” said Krampus. “I can use them to teleport. It’s because of the metal in the chains. Same as the metal on the runners of Santana Claus’ sleigh.”
“So the box teleports shit?” asked Ethan.
“No,” said Krampus. “My pockets are magic too. Lined with a special fabric you can only get in Hell. The fabric can be used to make boxes and pockets with no limits. Infinity bags.”
“And you made this why?” asked Ethan.
“My last two wards from your Clan had no issues getting my pastries and coffee back to the island in good condition,” said Krampus. “This box can carry all the pastries and coffee. They fit inside.”
“Inside that small thing?” asked Ethan. The box was barely as big as a shoebox.
“Yes,” said Krampus. “Avery’s a Christmas elf —”
“A what?” asked Ethan.
“It’s not important,” said Krampus. “She knows I’m a demon. She knows what I can do, what I can make. She’ll be handling the orders until you learn how to handle a box of delicate pastries, just like you’ll learn to decorate that tree with no mistakes and no broken ornaments.”
“Wait, after I learn to carry the stuff, you’re taking the magic box away?” asked Ethan.
“All I care about is getting my coffee and pastries over to Camp Kringle,” said Krampus. “Your discomfort is obviously not my concern.”
“Yeah, I can tell,” said Ethan. “That bed sucks.”
“What do you sleep on at home?” asked Krampus.
“A state-of-the-art foam mattress,” said Ethan.
“Trash,” said Krampus. “That mattress was made by me, by hand, stuffed with horsehair, enclosed in reindeer pelt.”
“You kill Donner and Blitzen to make that mattress?” asked Ethan.
“No,” said Krampus. “Not shifter reindeer. Don’t see the difference it makes, but maybe that’s because I’m a real bad guy. That mattress is the kind kings and queens sleep on, at least in Northern Europe.”
“American kings sleep on foam,” said Ethan.
* * *
Avery got the door and let Krampus in. Carol turned. Krampus was carrying his box, but Ethan wasn’t there. She actually found herself a little disappointed that she wouldn’t get to see Ethan that day.
Carol turned back to the register. She gave the couple in front of her their regular order. They’d been buying a lot of peppermint sugar cookies and some eggnog lattes.
“Pandora, this one’s yours,” said Carol. “Extra whipped cream.”
Carol passed the coffee over to Pandora.
“And Jack, iced eggnog latte,” said Carol. “Extra icy.”
“Thanks,” said Jack, taking his iced latte and taking a sip. “Perfect.
Pandora grabbed the bag of sugar cookies and left a tip.
“Hey,” said Pandora. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” said Carol.
“I can tell when someone’s upset,” said Pandora.
“Magic?” asked Carol sarcastically.
“I have two eyes and a high emotional quotient,” said Pandora. “EQ is like IQ for emotions. Anyway. What’s wrong, girlfriend?”
“We are friends, right?” asked Carol.
“I see you more than I see most of my friends, except Jack,” said Pandora. “We’re friends.”
“I have this other regular, cute guy, but he didn’t show up today,” said Carol.
“There’s a whole lot of day left,” said Pandora.
Just then, the bells tied to the front of the door jingled.
Ethan walked in the door, in a clean shirt. He was wearing a pair of work pants which were a bit dirty, but he also had on a pair of clean, dry boots.
“Ethan,” said Carol, as Pandora left the register. “I didn’t think you were coming today.”
“I just had to wipe my boots off outside, so I wouldn’t track the mud in,” said Ethan. “Am I the only one in line?”
“Look around, you big goof,” said Carol with a grin. “What’s your poison today?”
“Dealer’s choice,” said Ethan. “I want what you’re having. Can you take a break?”
“Sure,” said Carol.
Carol rang up Ethan and put his receipt in the special drawer. Then, she made her favorite breakfast combo. She made two cups of tea, made with half a scoop of Irish breakfast tea and half a scoop of Christmas tea. It was malty and orangey and filling. She put one cube of sugar in each cup of tea, as well as a generous splash of milk. She put the drink on the counter. Ethan unexpectedly carried the drink over to a free table while Carol finis
hed up another order before working on breakfast.
“Hey, over here,” said a voice.
Ethan turned. A plump girl with was sitting next to a boy wearing a leather jacket. He assumed they must’ve been in their early twenties.
“Hey,” said Ethan.
“I’m Pandora, but you can also call me Panda Claus,” said Pandora, shaking Ethan’s hand.
“Oh,” said Ethan. “Wait. As in…”
“Santana’s my daddy,” said Pandora. “Adopted me when I was a wee cub. I’m the boss’s daughter. This is my friend, Jack, Jack Frost.”
“Nice to meet you,” said Ethan. “You don’t mean Jack Frost like…”
“Like the ice elemental, yeah,” said Jack. “Just in training. Under my own dad, who, well, I don’t know if ‘adopted’ is the right word. What do you call it when you make a snowman and turn the snowman into a baby in a human body and raise it on your own?”
“I call that one Hell of a night,” said Ethan.
Ethan’s mark burned.
Really? asked Ethan. If Hell’s a real place, why can’t I reference it?
Because it ain’t Christmassy! mooed Prancer.
“My father’s Boreas Winter, who you may know as Old Man Winter,” said Jack. “He works with Pandora’s dad. I don’t know why, but…he always lends Santana extra help when Santana needs it. This year, seven of his ice elementals are helping pull the sleigh.”
“‘Works with’? Works against,” said Pandora. “By the way, Ethan – most of those ice elementals are pretty cold and icy. Don’t expect them to be as chatty as Jack!”
“Whoa, drama,” said Ethan.
“Hey,” said Carol, coming over with two plates. On each plate was a buttery ham and cheese croissant sandwich.
“Hey,” said Ethan.
“What were y’all talking about?” asked Pandora.
“Just making introductions,” said Jack with a wink more devilish than Krampus.
Ethan dug into his sandwich.
“This is good,” said Ethan.
“My favorite thing on the menu,” said Carol. “And by my favorite thing, I mean the whole breakfast side of the menu is my favorite thing on the menu. I love breakfast.”
Prancer Claws: The Twelve Mates Of Christmas, Book 3 Page 3