For the first time in recent history, Krampus was woken up by his ward, rather than the other way around.

However, while Krampus’ method for waking up the bad boys consisted of kicking their beds, Eamonn’s method for waking up his mentor involved brewing coffee, frying up eggs and bacon, and toasting bread.

Krampus looked at his clock. He could smell breakfast, but couldn’t believe it was already breakfast time. He begrudgingly got up and went downstairs, to the surprisingly large kitchen in his two-story ‘cabin.’

“Eamonn?” called Krampus.

“Who else would it be?” asked Eamonn.

Krampus came down the stairs. Eamonn had made him a cup of coffee and a loaded breakfast sandwich consisting of eleven layers, only two of which had bread.

“How long have you been up?” asked Krampus, looking over Eamonn, who’d changed into the tactical suit and shoes that Krampus had left in Eamonn’s closet.

“Does it matter?” asked Eamonn. “The Ride is just like any game — and that means I’m going to need my energy, and that starts now.” Eamonn flexed an arm, popped a bicep, and kissed it. It wasn’t the curve he wanted to kiss, but it’d have to do.

“Why so glum, sugar plum?” asked Avery, coming over to give Hope a cup of coffee, on the house.

“It’s nothing,” said Hope, closing up her laptop and taking the coffee.

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” said Avery, sitting across from Hope.

“You want all the gory details?” asked Hope, quirking a brow.

“If it’s better than my soaps, sign me the fuck up,” said Avery. “What’s going on?”

“I’m Eamonn’s fated mate,” said Hope.

“Well, that’s wonderful!” said Avery.

“It would be if I were sure that Fate was right, that Fate hadn’t made a mistake,” said Hope. “I love Eamonn, but…the story doesn’t make sense.”

“What doesn’t make sense?” asked Avery. “It’s true love!”

“Avery, I’m not a baker,” said Hope.

“So?” asked Avery.

“So…every single bad boy from Clan Marron has ended up with a baker, a Bear Claw Bakery baker,” said Hope. “That means Eamonn’s meant to be with…Melissa.”

“Hon, let me tell you a story,” said Avery. “You know of the story of Blitzen — you’re living it. Well, this is a little story I like to call ‘Donner Claws’ — get it? Because the guys are reindeer, but they’re also bears? No? Anyway. Moving on. Last year, we had a guy up here named, uh…what was it again? Oh yeah. Kevin. Anyway. Kevin managed to get off of The Naughty List very quickly.”

“That sounds great,” said Hope.

“Well…it meant Krampus thought he wasn’t really meant to be up here, getting fixed up, so Krampus went and got himself another bad boy to fix up, some jerkface named Nivek,” said Avery. “Krampus pushed for Nivek to date my temp from last year, Stella…but Stella and Kevin were the fated pair. Even though Stella worked as a baker, technically, Kevin had stopped being Krampus’ lumberjack and was really just…kinda doing his own thing. He still ended up with the girl, and she ended up with a house that always smelled of gingerbread.”

“But I thought you’d be on Team Melissa,” grumbled Hope. “After all…you hired her over me, for the bakery job.”

“Who do you think needed the job more? Melissa, who still shares an apartment in town with four other people, or you, the fancy college professor?” asked Avery.

“Fair point,” admitted Hope.

“I can be on Team Melissa and be on Team Hope,” promised Avery. “Melissa’s out today — said she wanted to see some guy, and I thought, well, she’s a bit unlucky in love this season, so, might as well give her the day off. Why don’t you temp in for me today? You can be the temp for my Christmas temp!”

“You sure you have an apron in my size?” asked Hope, raising a brow.

“Girl,”‘ said Avery, motioning over her curves. “Do you even have to ask?”

Eamonn was drinking coffee in the ‘flight lounge’ as the crew of ice elementals that were wielding the powers of the other seven reindeer — Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, and Donner — mulled around eating sushi.

Krampus had already had Eamonn trade in his bear shift for Blitzen. Eamonn knew he’d get his bear back after The Ride — after all, he’d gotten off of The Naughty List and claimed his fated mate — but he could care less about the bear when the woman he wanted, the woman who had made that mark on his chest glow, wanted nothing to do with him. She was the one touchdown he couldn’t score.

The door to the lounge opened. A familiar woman looked around like she owned the place and, spotting Eamonn, made a beeline to the bad boy.

“Eamonn!” squealed Pandora. “You’re just the shifter I was looking for. I have a question for you.”

“Shoot,” said Eamonn, sipping his coffee before putting it down.

“Did you do what I told you to do?” asked Pandora.

“Yes,” said Eamonn.

“Do you remember what I told you to do?” Pandora asked warily.

“Yes — you told me to show Hope a good ‘old-fashioned’ time,” said Eamonn. “I did — in more ways than one.”

“And?” asked Pandora.

“And…even though she’s my fated mate, and we danced the night away in fancy-schmancy clothing…she doesn’t think that she’s meant to be with me,” said Eamonn, shrugging his shoulders. “I love her, and I know she has feelings for me, but…”

“Have you proposed?” asked Pandora.

“No,” said Eamonn, frowning. “I don’t think she’d say yes at this point.”

“The one surefire way to show a woman you’re serious about her…is proposing,” said Pandora. “The knowledge that you’re serious about her…well, that can make a big difference in how she sees the situation.”

Pandora twirled her right index finger over her left palm, and a present appeared in her palm.

“What was that?” asked Eamonn.

“By now, you should know that Christmas magic is never predictable, but always fated,” said Pandora. “One of my powers is giftomancy — the power of conjuring gifts.”

“What’s in there?” asked Eamonn.

“It’s something you want…or something you need, hopefully, both,” explained Pandora. “But…I’ll let you in on a little secret.”

“What?” asked Eamonn.

“The last seven bad boys that came to The Wreath to work for Santana, who wielded the powers of Dasher, and Dancer, and Prancer, and Vixen…and of Comet, Cupid, and Donner…well, they all found the same things in their boxes,” said Pandora.

“What did they find?” asked Eamonn.

“Find out,” said Pandora, passing Eamonn the wrapped present. The present had miniature footballs on it. Each football was wearing a cheeky Santa hat.

Eamonn unwrapped the box. Inside, there was a cardboard box. Inside that box, there was a box made of leather. He opened the box. Inside, there was something circular and shiny.

“What…how…why?” asked Eamonn.

“Just as I thought,” said Pandora. “It’s the same kind of thing found in the boxes of the other seven bad boys — who’ve all found their fairytale happily-ever-after with their fated mates. It’s something you want…”

“…And, it’s something I need,” finished Eamonn.

“Alright, you think you have the hang of things?” asked Avery. “Remember to be careful — those industrial-grade cookie cutters are frikkin’ razor sharp.”

“Yeah — I just take the premade sugar cookie dough, roll it out until it’s as thick as your example cookie, and then, use the cookie cutters to stamp the cookies out of the dough,” said Hope. She took a lump of the cookie dough and demonstrated her technique. She used a Christmas tree cookie cutter to stamp tree shapes out of the mixture, alternating between having the tops of the trees face up and down. That way, she could cut out as many cookies as possible.

“Perfect,” said Avery. “And now?”

“I carefully move them over to the tray,” said Hope, moving some cookies over to the tray. “Once it’s full, it goes in the oven, which is already pre-heated, for ten minutes.”

“Exactly,” said Avery. “And, just toss the extra dough in a bowl. I’ll mix it back up later so we can use it for another batch of cookies.”

“Do you do that every time you make sugar cookies?” asked Hope.

“Yeah,” said Avery. “I use the extra dough to make our sugar cookie biscotti, which I make by hand.”

“Alright, well, I think I’ll get the hang of things,” said Hope. “Thanks so much, Avery. I think this is just the break I needed.”

“No sweat, honey,” said Avery, turning the radio on before she left. “You know where to find me if there’s an issue. Merry Christmas.”

Eamonn was used to working in a team. It was kind of his job. Heck, three letters from the word ‘team’ were in his name — all four letters, if you included his surname of ‘Costello.’

He was not used to working with ice elementals. The icy bastards waddled around. They were taller than him and buffer than him. Eamonn had rowed crew for a year back in high school. The teeniest guy on the team was the coxswain, the guy who sat at the top of the boat, in front of the rest of the team.

Well, Eamonn felt as small as a coxswain compared to the elementals. However, unlike an elemental, he was hooked up right in front of Santana Claus, up-close and personal.

Eamonn was wearing his all-black tactical suit — the one he’d found in the closet that morning — as well as the shoes. He was on the tarmac, getting outfitted by none other than Krampus.

“Earpiece,” said Krampus, passing a set of wireless earbuds to Eamonn. “Just as the tactical suit will be hidden when you shift, so will these earbuds. This is how you’ll communicate with ground comms.”

“Got it,” said Eamonn, plugging the earbuds in.

“We can hear whatever you say,” said Krampus.

“Even when I’m in my shift?” asked Eamonn.

“Of course,” said Krampus. “What kind of a Christmas demon would I be if I didn’t speak frikkin’ reindeer? So do the elves down in the comms station. That’s sort of their deal.”

“Alright, so they’re the shot-callers, the ones calling the plays, got it,” said Eamonn.

“Exactly,” said Krampus. “Santana Claus might seem like he’s the coach, but really, he’s the football. You’re trying to pass him ‘round the world tonight — and that means, y’know, try not to fumble and lose Father Christmas.”

“That’s Daddy Christmas to you,” said Santana, walking up behind Krampus and slapping him on the back. “Eamonn frikkin’ Costello. You know, the real reason you got on The Naughty List was that I lost twenty bucks to Krampus over that interception you made last year. The guy you intercepted was so close to scoring on your ass.”

“Wait, really?” asked Eamonn. “Is that the real reason I got sent here?”

Santana raised an eyebrow, looked at Krampus, looked back at Eamonn, and both Santana and Krampus burst out laughing.

“Of course not, son…although, to tell you the truth, pissing off Santana frikkin’ Claus probably didn’t help matters,” said Santana, slapping Eamonn on the back. “You didn’t find your mate, were in danger of mate madness, yadda yadda, you know that whole apple pie…but, congratulations, kid. You must be excited. You’ll get your shift back, and have one heck of a story to tell your mate.”

“Yeah…but knowing her, I think she’s sure she already knows the ending,” said Eamonn.

“What do you mean, kid?” asked Santana.

“She…doesn’t think Fate made the right call,” explained Eamonn. “She thinks there was a mistake — because she wasn’t a baker. You see, the last seven bad boys who —”

“I know,” said Santana, a twinkle in his eye. “I know all about your friends. After all, they got to know Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen…and even Comet, Cupid and Donner. I know about their mates too. They were all bakers. Your fated mate…well, she might be right. Maybe a mistake was made.”

“That’s not what I’m — “ Eamonn started angrily.

“Calm down,” said Santana. “You don’t want to get on The Angry List, now, do you? Right now, you need to focus on The Ride, not The Drama, alright?”

“And why do I have a feeling you’re going to be focusing on The Drama while I’m handling The Ride?” asked Eamonn, crossing his arms.

“Hey, he’s a bored little football,” said Krampus. “He’s got to do something while he’s up in the air, and if I know Santana, I know two things. One. He’s great at multitasking. Two. He’s even better at meddling.”

Hope had been bopping to the Christmas beats for hours, humming along to the songs, a spring in her step. In doing so, she got distracted, and because she was distracted, she wasn’t being careful.

Hope dropped the Christmas tree shaped cookie cutter on the floor.

“Drat!” cursed Hope. She was about to go ask Avery what to do when she realized that she was in a frikkin’ bakery kitchen, so naturally, she should just toss the cookie cutter into the dishwasher and go and find another cookie cutter.

Hope put the cookie cutter into the dirty tools bin and rifled through the cabinets. She found mixing bowls, mixing attachments, mixing utensils — a real ‘mixed bag’ of stuff. She found rolling pins and kept digging, hoping to find more cookie stuff. She got down on her hands and knees and looked through the cabinet. She found fancier rolling pins, ones with patterns on them, and then, a wooden box fell out of the cabinet. As Hope went to grab it, the lid came off — exposing a set of cute cookie cutters, which were made of a strange black metal. One of them was in the shape of a Christmas tree.

Hope picked up the cookie cutter set and put the box on the bakery island. She took out the Christmas tree shaped cookie cutter and went to the dough.

As soon as she tried to use the cookie cutter, her hand jerked — it must’ve been her hand, as there was no way the cookie cutter had a life of its own — and the cookie cutter grazed her finger with its razor-sharp edge!

“Ouch!” yelped Hope. Droplets of red splattered over the cookie dough. Hope looked at her finger. She’d managed to catch the edge of the tip of her finger with the sharp cookie cutter.

Hope looked around the kitchen for a first aid kit but couldn’t find one. Although the first aid kit was in plain sight, Hope was seeing red — literally and metaphorically.

Hope looked back down at her bleeding finger. She had never been good with the sight of blood. That, combined with her bleeding, caused her to faint, right on the kitchen floor.

The Ride had been unlike anything Eamonn had ever experienced before. Just as training camp didn’t ever truly prepare him for the wildness of the football season, training with Krampus hadn’t prepared him for the turmoil of The Ride.

Eamonn had thought his experience as a professional football player would’ve been an asset. After all — he had muscles, endurance, strength, and speed.

Those things did help — a little.

Eamonn was used to playing for screaming fans in stadiums.

Well, those stadiums looked like tiny lawns from up in the sky. The world was a lot bigger than a football stadium — the skies windier, colder, snowier than any conditions he’d ever played in before.

It didn’t help that he didn’t exactly have freedom of movement, given he was strapped up to pull a sleigh.

It also didn’t help that he was in an unfamiliar form — that of a frikkin’ reindeer. Reindeer and bears have four legs, brown fur, and the ability to kick ass.

That was where the comparison ended for Eamonn.

His bear just handled differently than the reindeer. It was as if he’d gone from driving an SUV to driving a sports car — and now, he was expected to take that sports car on an ATV path.

The conditions were as cold and hard as frozen candy canes. It was hard to believe that Boreas ‘Old Man’ Winter had really been helping Santana Claus out. After all, the weather conditions were pretty bad, even for the winter. Maybe that was why Boreas had contributed seven of his ice elementals to Santana’s Ride. At one point, over West Virginia, Eamonn had been sure that he’d felt birdshot graze his fur as somebody shot at the sleigh during a stealth cloaking mishap where, well, the sleigh’s stealthing magic just plain out failed.

Eamonn, ever the sportsman, wouldn’t have had it any other frikkin’ way.

As they flew over North Africa, Eamonn expected the weather to get warmer.

It did not. He was still frikkin’ chilly.

Santana landed in Cairo, on an apartment building’s roof. Eamonn looked down and saw Christmas celebrations happening in the street, the trees dotted with giant golden Christmas trees that reminded Eamonn of the giant pyramids they’d flown over on their way to the city.

Santana made the rounds quickly and got back in the sleigh. He was talking in his earpiece. Eamonn wasn’t eavesdropping, but, suddenly, he could hear what Santana was saying, whether he wanted to or not, as Santana’s voice filled Eamonn’s earpiece.

“Uh huh,” said Santana. “I see. Okay. Patch him in and explain things.”

Eamonn asked, “Huh?” but, because he was in his reindeer form, it came out as a mix between a sheep’s bleat and a goat’s fart. Santana and the elves working as Christmas air traffic controllers for The Ride understood reindeer fluently. Ironically, although Eamonn could ‘speak’ it, he couldn’t understand it.

Eamonn’s earpiece crackled.

“Hey, Crackle here,” said a Christmas elf. “I work in hiring. I was doing the end of year forms and noticed that Avery’s hire didn’t have the same NONID as our recommended hire.”

“NONID?” asked Eamonn. “What’s that?”

“Naughty Or Nice ID,” explained Crackle. “It’s like a Social Security Number, but, for The North Pole’s books. Anyway. She was supposed to hire the human with an NONID ending in 42069…but instead, she hired the human with the NONID ending in 42089. It looks like the form we faxed her had an ink blot that made the six look like an eight.”

“Who was she supposed to hire?” asked Eamonn.

“Some human woman named…Hope Bingley,” said Crackle. “She ended up hiring…”

“Well?” asked Eamonn. “Who did she hire?”

Really? asked Blitzen. Have you not been paying attention this entire time? I swear…

“…Someone named Melissa Pemberley instead,”‘ said Crackle. “Melissa’s Nice, but, she wasn’t who we picked to work down at The Wreath. We’d picked Hope Bingley.”

“And why did you pick Hope?” asked Eamonn.

“Because The Department of Hiring works with The Department of Matchmaking and likes to meddle,” said Crackle. “Somebody there thought that Hope was meant to work at Bear Claw Bakery, on The Wreath, and find her true love…in the form of some goofy football player named…E-man?”

“Eamonn,” corrected Eamonn, and the feed cut out.

“So this entire time…” started Eamonn.

“That’s right, kid,” said Krampus, who had been patched into Eamonn’s feed since the start of The Ride. “Hope was supposed to work at The Bakery after all. It’s fated.”

“Hey, Avery,” said a cheery voice. “Need any help?”

Avery turned from her paperwork — ideas for the next year’s Christmas party at The North Pole, for Santana and his entire Workshop.

“Oh, Melissa,” said Avery. “I wasn’t expecting you to come in today.”

“Traffic wasn’t too bad, so I got back early from my date in the mountains,” said Melissa. “So…need any help?”

“I actually have someone temping for you right now,” said Avery.

“I’ll work for free today,” said Melissa. “Call it my Christmas gift to you.”

“Well, okay,” said Avery. “Come on.”

Avery led Melissa into the kitchen.

“Melissa, you know Hope, right? She’s working on —” started Avery, but then, she saw Hope, sprawled out on the floor, bleeding from her hand.

“Hope!” shouted Avery.

“Wait,” said Melissa, holding Avery back. “I’ve got this. You dial 911. I’ll do what I can.”

“Are you qualified?” asked Avery, pulling out her cell phone and punching in the three digits. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

“I’m no dumb bunny,” said Melissa, wasting no time to turn Hope onto her side, in the recovery position. “I majored in culinary arts, but I minored in sports medicine. If I can fix up a wrestler, I can fix up a baker.”

As soon as Eamonn hit the tarmac, he felt a hand on his fur.

“Eamonn, we need to go, now,” said Krampus.

Eamonn shifted back into his human form, which was still enrobed in the tactical gear he’d worn before turning into Blitzen’s form.

“I don’t understand,” said Eamonn. “What do you — “

“There’s been an accident,” said Krampus. He pulled his magic chain off and threw it down on the ground, forming a portal to a patch of snow that Eamonn didn’t recognize. Eamonn jumped down, through the portal on the tarmac, into the snowy spot, and Krampus landed next to him.

Eamonn looked around to see where they were. Then he saw the giant red glowing letters — ‘Hospital’ — and knew his Christmas had just gotten a Hell of a lot less merry.

Hope had been asleep, dreaming dreams and nightmaring nightmares, as she floated through the realms of sleep.

She’d had a dream where she’d swam through an ocean of fantastical fish and finally, coming up for air, ended up on a black sand beach. On the beach, there was a white stone villa. She walked to the villa and knocked on the door.

“Hello?” called Hope.

Nobody answered.

She went inside the house. The inside was decorated with pastel blue wallpaper and golden curtains. The furniture was made of dark wood, as were the floors, which were a cool ashy brown color. She found a pair of stairs and walked up, finding a wardrobe and a bed.

She opened the wardrobe and looked at what was inside.

“Of course,” said Hope. Inside the wardrobe, all there was were Regency dresses.

“How does this go again?” muttered Hope. “Alright. Well. First, I have to get undressed…”

Hope recalled the steps she’d need to take. She got disrobed and then enrobed herself in undergarments. Then, she slipped an empire waist dress over her head. She reached back to button it up, but the buttons had already been buttoned up.

Things were strange in this dream.

Hope passed by a mirror as she looked for shoes and noticed that her hair was up in curls, held back with some hairpins. She turned to make sure it was really her in the mirror, and not a stranger. She looked over her reflection and saw that she was already wearing shoes.

Things were indeed strange in this dream.

Hope went downstairs to explore some more. She went out the door of the villa, and she was no longer on a beach. Instead, the villa opened up into a field of lavender that seemed to have no end.

Hope turned to enter the villa, but it had disappeared.

All around her was an endless purple field of lavender.

Hope turned around, reaching out to try and find a doorknob, to find her way back into the villa, to find her way out of the field, out of the dream, but she couldn’t.