Joy and Sean were reading a story to their three children. Reading a Christmas story on Christmas Eve was a tradition both Joy and Sean’s families happened to share. Their triplets, Mina, Tina, and Tom, were sitting with their mini mugs of hot cocoa and listening raptly as their parents took turns reading from the well-worn book.

“…And that’s why the true meaning of Christmas is love,” finished Sean. “And they lived happily ever after. The end.”

“Mommy,” said Mina. “I think there’s something wrong with the tree.”

Joy looked up. The tree was shaking.

“Sean, is it an earthquake?” asked Joy.

“No, babe,” said Sean, getting up from the chair and leaving the book on the coffee table. “It’s…it’s the tree. Mina’s right. Something’s wrong with it.”

Sean walked around the tree and found the culprit. It was big, wooden, and knobby, and green. It was the pickle ornament he’d been given over a decade ago. It had always had a place on his tree.

“What is it?” asked Joy.

“Joy, why don’t you all finish reading in the playroom?” said Sean. “I think I have some work to do.”

“You mean…” started Joy.

Sean nodded. Joy knew precisely what it meant.

Ryan had just gotten off the stage at Bear Buns. Angelica was in the back of the club, sitting with the other wives, drinking white chocolate mochas with peppermint sticks. The Christmas reunion show had been a success.

“Hey, how’s my Christmas angel?” asked Ryan, kissing Angelica on the head.

“Great,” said Angelica. “You did amazing out there, Ryan. Real good. Can’t believe you don’t do that every night anymore.”

“I still do it every day,” said Ryan. “Some of my pole dancing students were in the audience.”

“Oh, that’s sweet,” said Angelica.

“I gotta run back out,” said Ryan. “Time for the finale.”

Ryan took his place with the other bears, all ready to jump on that stage and give it their all in front of one of their best props yet: a giant Christmas tree, decorated with ornaments from nearly every stripper who’d ever stripped at Bear Buns.

Ryan and the bears started dancing to a Christmas song. The crowd sang along as the bears showed off their stuff. The show was more burlesque than striptease, but it was perfect for people who were stuck at a strip club on Christmas Eve.

The tree rolled out. Ryan kept dancing, not looking back until one of the other dancers tapped him.

“Ryan, uh, your ornament, it’s the pickle, right?” asked the dancer.

“Yeah,” said Ryan. “Why? You jealous of how big my pickle is?”

“There’s something wrong with it,” said the dancer. “It’s shaking.”

Ryan stayed in formation, determined to check the pickle out later.

That’s when the pickle started singing. The DJ boosted the volume of the Christmas themed rock music they were spinning that night, but it was no match for the loud and off-key Christmas song sung by the pickle.

Ryan ran up to the tree and found the ornament. The pickle stopped playing its song as soon as Ryan touched it. Instead, a voice came out.

“It’s time,” said the familiar voice.

“Hey, what is that?” asked another dancer.

“Vibrator,” said Ryan. “Put it on the tree as a joke.”

“Never seen a vibrator do that,” said the dancer.

“Experimental model, from Japan,” said Ryan, taking the ornament and heading backstage.

Carol and Ethan were volunteering at the soup kitchen when the tree shook. The jingle bell ornaments on the tree rang.

“Huh, that’s funny,” said Ethan, putting down the ladle. “You know what. I think the Christmas tree stand must be loose. I’ll go tighten it.”

Ethan left the counter and crossed the long line of people in need looking for a hot Christmas meal.

He went to the massive tree he’d bought for the event. The homeless children had been given wood ornament kits and made their own sturdy ornaments they would be able to keep forever. They’d decorated the tree with a little help from Ethan, who strung up the lights, and Carol, who parceled out a fair amount of tinsel for each kid, so they could all have some glittery Christmas magic in their hands. Ethan and Carol had put up a single ornament: a very special pickle.

Ethan adjusted the tree stand. It already seemed tight, but he tightened it some more, hoping he wasn’t stripping the screws. He pulled away, and the tree ‘rang’ again.

“What’s going on, mister?” asked one of the kids.

“I don’t know,” said Ethan.

Ethan walked around the tree. Had someone installed a motor on the tree as a gag? He looked for the source of the shaking.

He finally found it, once it started singing off-key, making half the kids giggle and the other half plug up their ears.

“I can’t believe we’re in the frikkin’ Christmas Islands for Christmas,” said Candy. “We’re so lucky.”

“I’m so lucky I got this job,” said Cain. “And I’m lucky they didn’t call my bluff when I required a ticket for a companion.”

“You think they would’ve given you this luxury suite?” asked Candy.

“I paid for this on my own,” said Cain. “Only the best for you. If it were just me, heck, I’d pitch a tent on the beach. Go find a cove to sleep in. But for you, the best.”

“That’s so sweet,” said Candy. “That’s too much, Cain. You didn’t have to do that.”

“What would make this Christmas perfect for you?” asked Cain.

“Not a dang thing,” said Candy. “Well, except maybe a tree.”

“Wish granted,” said Cain, getting up from the bed. He wrapped a towel around his nude body and led Candy by the hand to the living room, a separate hut over the water than the cabin they were in.

“Holy heck,” said Candy, looking at the giant tree in the center of the room. “How did you get that when we’re near frikkin’ Australia and nowhere close to where pine trees grow?”

“Call it shifter magic,” said Cain.

“I wish we had some ornaments to decorate it with,” said Candy.

“Second wish granted,” said Cain. “You only have one more left. Why don’t you open that present over there? You’ll know the one.”

Candy spotted a medium sized box with pickle patterned wrapping paper. When she picked it up, she felt it vibrate.

“Ha-ha, very funny,” said Candy.

“What?” asked Cain.

“You put a vibrator in here, same size, weight as the pickle,” said Candy. “Real funny, Cain.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Cain, walking up to Candy and taking the ornament from her hands.

The box was vibrating. Cain knew what he’d put in there, and it wasn’t a vibrator. For a second, Cain thought he needed to call a bomb squad. Then he remembered how the ornament wasn’t just an ornament.

He passed the box back to Candy, who ripped through the paper, opened the box, and found the pickle, turning back and forth, on the tissue paper Cain had carefully used to cushion the ornament.

“What the heck?” asked Candy.

“Remember what he said? When he gave it to me?” asked Cain. “You gonna spend your third wish on keeping me here?”

“No,” said Candy. “I wish for you to save Christmas, Cain. For everyone.”

Noel and Connor were at her family’s big Christmas Eve dinner. The turkey had just been cut when Connor heard a brushing sound. It was the same sound he heard when he was fast roping from a helicopter over Nuthusk. It was the sound of pine needles brushing against fabric.

Connor turned to see if the cat had torn down the Christmas tree or was playing with the curtain, but the cat was accounted for, drinking the kitty version of eggnog (heavy cream) from a dish, no nutmeg or rum allowed. So it was nothing like eggnog, but it was a special Christmas drink.

Connor looked back. The tree was definitely shaking.

Connor excused himself and discreetly got up from the table. Connor quickly found the source of the vibrations.

“Honey, is everything alright?” asked Noel, walking up to Connor.

“I think I’m being called in to fly tonight,” said Connor.

He wasn’t wearing aviator sunglasses on his forehead, but if he had been, this is the part where he would’ve slid them down onto his nose.

Holly and Rowan were working the entry table for their Christmas Eve Single’s Night. Rowan was checking names and writing nametags while Holly collected the cash. They’d gone all the way to Seattle for the event, but they’d still brought a bit of Nuthusk with them, in the form of their Christmas ornaments, hung on the big tree in the center of the room.

The theme? Brunch. Christmas Day brunch, to be exact. Instead of mimosas, there was cranberry juice mixed with prosecco. All the lattes had peppermint, cinnamon, or eggnog flavors available. Even the avocado toast was Christmassy, with the avocado slices arranged to look like Christmas trees.

“You’re raking it in tonight, honey,” said Holly. “You made more tonight than we did in the last two weeks, and that was during the busy season.”

“People coming tonight, well, the pressure’s off for them to find a partner to bring back home,” said Rowan. “They’re here to have fun.”

“I’m having loads of fun too,” said Holly. “I’m going to blow half of what we’ve made on the after Christmas sales. I could use a new mixer.”

“Guess you could call it…your Christmas singles mixer,” joked Rowan.

“Hey,” said one of the singles, coming up to the table. “I think there’s something wrong with your tree.”

“I’ll handle this,” said Rowan, ceding his seat to one of his assistants.

Rowan got up and went to the tree. The tree was starting to shake. He wasn’t quite sure why. He couldn’t tell what was making the tree shake.

Then, the singing started.

The singing was a definite mood killer.

“What is this, a prank?” asked one of the singles.

“I don’t know,” said another. “Pretty mean to prank singles on Christmas Eve.”

Rowan scrambled to find the culprit. When he did, he grabbed it.

“What the heck?” muttered Rowan, cupping the pickle.

“It’s time,” said a familiar voice.

“Really? Tonight?” asked Rowan.

“What other night?” asked the voice. “Be ready in five. I’m coming to pick you up.”

Kevin and Stella were enjoying a night in his cabin. He’d repaired it so no records of his mate madness remained. The cabin was a warm, homey place, and tonight, it was a private one. They’d left the kids with Kevin’s parents, who had taken the kids into town to see a tree-lighting, giving Kevin and Stella a much-needed break. Kevin and Stella loved their brood. They were just a lot. If they were going to handle Christmas Day with five kids, they were going to need their rest…and their recreation, even if all they got a was a quick nap.

Who were they trying to kid? Of course, they weren’t going to get much sleeping done.

Kevin was just about to turn down the lights and take Stella for the sleigh ride of her life when he heard a noise.

“What was that?” asked Stella.

“Wild animal, probably,” said Kevin, turning back to Stella.

“Wait,” said Stella. “I heard it again. I know it’s silly, Kevin, but…can you go check on it? What if it’s a shifter? One with mate madness? I wouldn’t want one of those running loose on Christmas!”

“Anything for you,” said Kevin, kissing Stella on the forehead.

Kevin walked through the house. He used his acute shifter hearing to track the sound to the living room, to the Christmas tree. It was shaking.

“It’s just the tree, babe,” said Kevin.

“Why’s the tree shaking?” asked Stella, coming out and leaning against the living room’s entrance in a brand-new Christmas lingerie set, red with white fur trim.

Kevin looked for any window that may have been opened.

“All the windows are closed,” said Kevin. “Must be the wind.”

“You know there’s not a draft in this cabin,” said Stella. “You wouldn’t let our kids catch a death of cold.”

Stella walked up to the tree.

“Ha-ha, very funny,” said Stella, taking the pickle off the tree. “You installed a motor in it?”

“Hello, Stella,” said the pickle.

Stella dropped the pickle on the floor. Luckily, whatever magic it was made with stopped it from cracking

“Ahem,” said the voice. “Kevin, mind picking me up off the floor?”

Kevin picked the pickle up.

“Oh, no,” said Stella, crossing our arms. “Not this again.”

“Babe, when duty calls, you want me to answer, don’t you?” asked Kevin.

“Fine,” said Stella. “But we might open presents without you if you aren’t back in time. We know how it turned out last time you had to help with The Ride.”

“I’m not naive enough to promise that this time’ll be different,” said Kevin. “Thanks for understanding. I swear you’re getting something really shiny and expensive when I get back.”

Hope and Eamonn were hung over from the Christmas party the night before. They were lucky they didn’t have kids yet because there was no way they could’ve handled demanding infants or whining teens the day after the rager the team had thrown. When Hope’s colleagues from the English department had shown up with Regency-era cocktail recipes, the real party had begun. Hope and Eamonn partied hard and when the party fizzled out in the early morning, hit the bed…and stayed in there all dang day, through to the night.

The only thing that woke them up was the singing. The singing that got louder and louder.

“Is that the alarm?” asked Hope groggily.

“No,” said Eamonn. “It must be a prank from one of the guys.”

Eamonn shuffled out of bed. The singing got louder as he approached its source. It wasn’t hard for Eamonn to tell what was causing the ruckus. It was glowing bright green, the light streaming through the needles of the Christmas tree. As the pickle glowed and shook, the patterns of light cast over the walls and ceiling looked similar to the ones cast by a disco ball…a disco ball at a disco run by absinthe-slinging Christmas demons.

Eamonn groped at the tree and grabbed the ornament.

“What the fuck,” said Eamonn. “I must’ve had too much to drink.”

“What is it?” called Hope.

“The frikkin’ pickle,” said Eamonn.

“Ahem,” said the pickle.

“I swear I heard it talk to me,” said Eamonn.

“Because you did,” said the pickle. “You always were one of the most difficult of my wards…and you had competition.”

With a poof, a man appeared in front of Eamonn, wearing a black suit, a chain around his neck.

“You remember this, now, don’t you, Eamonn?” asked Krampus.

“I’ve been good,” said Eamonn. “I’m not on The Naughty List.”

“The North Pole needs your help,” said Krampus. “Are you ready to play ball?”

“Shit,” said Eamonn, half-expecting his chest to burn, like it had the last times he’d cursed around Krampus.

“Who are you talking to, babe?” asked Hope, coming down the stairs. “Oh. Krampus. Okay. I must be really hungover if I’m seeing things.”

“Hello, Hope,” said Krampus. “Mind if I steal your quarterback?”

“You do whatever you want with him, as long as that means I get to sleep,” said Hope, yawning and going back up the stairs to her comfy bed.

“What’s going on?” asked Eamonn, as Krampus threw his chain on the ground.

The familiar portal formed. The chain expanded to ten feet in diameter. It filled with green flames which let off an unearthly glow, filling the room with green light once again. The fire flickered away, leaving behind a reflecting pool. Krampus ran his hand over the pool and its surface rippled before showing the portal’s destination.

It was just like the last time Krampus had come to Eamonn to take him on one heck of a journey. The only difference was, this time, Eamonn didn’t have the word ‘Naughty’ written across his chest or a reindeer spirit in his body, and the portal wasn’t leading to The Wreath. Eamonn saw a giant candy cane topped with a bright red gumdrop. He knew precisely where Krampus was taking him now. This was no joke. It was game time.

“It’s a long story,” said Krampus. “Maybe…it’s best we start at the beginning.