Eoin had an antique, half-lit lights that were temperamental at best and a bare Christmas tree. The Christmas spirit was not strong with him this morning. But after Angie’s confession last night, he was more determined than ever to make this holiday special. However, finding his Christmas tree decorations would be helpful.
This was the third and last attic Eoin had torn apart this morning. They had to be in here. There was nowhere else to search.
He opened a cracked leather trunk. Thick velvet suits were nicely folded among some ruffled white shirts. His old squire must have packed this one. It was too neat for it to have been Eoin. Soft material rubbed over his rough palm. Mmm…it felt good, but he did not miss the foppish style. The jeans and T-shirts of this age were much more convenient and durable. He moved to the next box, this one made of cardboard, and yanked it open. More clothes. He lifted the box and tossed it over his head against the wall. He really needed to donate some of this stuff.
The flashlight beam landed on a wreath with holly leaves at the back of this tower’s attic. Now that had possibilities. He jumped to his feet and shoved his way through discarded boxes and furniture he’d collected over the years, toward his goal. A silken spider web pressed against his face and he stumbled back in surprise. He brushed the impressive construct off his face and noticed the large eight-legged arachnid slowly lowering from the ceiling. It was easily half the size of his hand.
The queen motherfucker of spiders.
“I didn’t mean to destroy your home.” He allowed the spider to land on his palm. As one predator to another, he offered it a piece of advice. “We best find you a new home. If Angie spots you, she will introduce you to her boot.”
Eoin carried the spider all the way out of the castle into his stables—AKA, the garage. He set her loose on the windowsill.
The bite of winter was in the air but everything was brown. It looked like Halloween, not Christmas. The bare tree limbs reached up to the clear blue sky as dead leaves swirled among the trunks and across the courtyard. Christmas was tomorrow and there was no snow. The unusual warm weather dampened his own enthusiasm. As a hatchling, he had learned to use his fire with snow to create ice sculptures for the winter celebration his clan held every year. Dragons didn’t call it Christmas, but the heart of the holiday was similar. The three Fs—family, fun, and food.
Maybe he should respect Angie’s wish and skip Christmas. He didn’t want her to revisit bad memories or cause her further grief.
The dancing leaves settled against the wall of his garage.
No.
Angie had a family to celebrate with now. She needed to create new memories. For that to happen, they needed snow. A white Christmas. He could make that happen since he knew who to bribe.
He grabbed the keys off the wall to his favorite vehicle, an old beaten pickup truck that he used to collect scrap metal for his art. It squeaked and groaned as he drove it to the city. He loved the heavy purr of the engine and the vibration within the cab as it rolled over the road. His destination was in a different part of the city than Angie’s salon.
Nikita, a white witch, owned a magic shop in the upscale part of the shopping district. He parked his truck in a no parking zone in front of the store. Nikita had a good reputation for creating miracles, for the right price.
A bell tinkled as he opened the door. Leather bound books covered the right side of the wall and the left held shelves of herbs and other less common ingredients. The center of the room had a pentagram tiled into the floor that Nikita had covered with a couch set and coffee table. Creepy yet functional. He settled in the loveseat and spread his arms over the back, legs crossed.
From the rear, Nikita entered the shop, wiping her hands on a dishcloth. “Eoin, what an unexpected honor.” Though her tone said otherwise. “What did I do wrong?”
“Why ask that?”
“I can’t think of any other reason why a dragon would be in my shop.” Nikita sat across from him in a delicate antique chair. He had avoided that seat on purpose in fear that it would shatter under his weight. “Can I offer you some tea?”
“Do I look like a tea drinker?”
Her lips twisted. “Coffee then?”
“A cup would be nice. Black.” She smelled like sage and black licorice and…newt. “What else do you have cooking?”
Nikita ignored him and weaved her hands in a complex pattern in the air. She spoke in the language of magic. One he was familiar with. Two cups levitated from the back room and settled onto the coffee table between them. “Lunch. Will you be joining me?”
“I’m not even slightly tempted.” Whatever she was cooking did not smell like lunch. “I need a spell.”
Her eyes narrowed as she leaned forward. “You have enough magic in your blood for your own spells. Why would you need me? Unless…” A frown marred the perfect symmetry of her face. “I don’t do black magic.”
Neither did he. Whoever used black magic always ended up dying.
“Nothing illegal.” He was glad to hear that she didn’t practice black magic. Riverbend, a city two hours away from New Port, had been having issues with it, but he’d heard that city’s wolf pack had the problem in hand. “The spell I need is counterintuitive to my natural elements.” He was a creature of fire and his magic was of smoke and darkness. Now if he wanted a tropical Christmas, he might manage a proper spell. Or if he wanted to set Christmas on fire, that was doable. “I want snow. Lots of it. The kind of storm that halts a city.”
She fell back into her chair. “What’s the fuck? You want a snow day?”
Elbows on knees, he leaned forward. “Yes. A blizzard of epic proportion.” Angie hadn’t flown in a snowstorm yet and he could teach her. When they grew too cold they could sit by the fire. He would cook a romantic dinner for two and they could trim the Christmas tree as the cold weather howled outside. That was the Christmas Eve he wanted.
Nikita threw back her head, an unexpected cackling laugh fell from her sophisticated lips. She held her sides as she tried to catch her breath.
Eoin crossed his arms. “I’m happy you find me amusing.”
“You were serious?”
“Deadly.”
“I—I can’t do that. I’m nowhere near strong enough to change the weather.” She tilted her head. “Are there dragons strong enough to do that?”
He took a sip of his coffee. Yes, there were, but he didn’t know any ice dragons. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a handful of gold coins and set them on the coffee table by Nikita’s tea cup.
Her eyes grew to the size of saucers. “Are those actual doubloons? How old are you?”
He shifted his eyes to dragon. He was tired of mortals judging his age. For a dragon, he was in his prime. Only Viktor made him feel young. “Use your coven.”
“It’s not about money.” She gestured to her nice shop. “I’m not the type to turn gold away, but Eoin, it’s the day before Christmas. Most of my coven is out of town. If you had given me a week to prepare, then those gold doubloons would be mine and the city in an ice age.”
Eoin stuffed the coins back into his pocket. “Good coffee. Stay out of trouble.” He stormed from the shop, slamming the door closed. Now what? The tree was bare and his lights were a fire hazard. At least, he had dinner covered. A big, beautiful goose had been fed acorns all its life. In their human forms, he and Angie could eat off it for days. Well, her appetite had been fierce lately, so maybe one day.
Feeling at a loss, he drove across town and stopped at Scratch Your Itch, Angie’s salon. His need for his mate burned in his veins.
Beth, Angie’s best friend and receptionist, jumped to her feet at his entrance. No matter how much he tried, Eoin could not get the omega werewolf to relax around him. “Angie is with a customer, Mr. Eoin, sir.” At least, she no longer gave off the scent of terror whenever in his presence. “Do you want me to pull her out of the room for a minute?”
Beth’s downcast gaze lifted for a few seconds to meet his. That was new. Maybe things were improving.
“It’s not urgent.” He sighed. The way Angie’s emotions had been rollercoastering, he didn’t know if she would greet him with a kiss or a punch.
“Good, because she’s been so snippy lately.” Beth sank to her seat with a shake of her head. “I don’t feel like getting yelled that again.” She wrung her hands.
“Whoa.” Eoin set his hands on the desk and leaned forward. “She yelled that you?” Beth was Angie’s best friend. His mate protected the omega fiercely. Angie yelled at everyone else, but he had never heard of her losing her temper with Beth. The omega was just too sweet.
Beth waved her hands in the air, her gaze glued to the top of her desk. “Nothing serious. Angie always gets down around the holidays. It just seems worse this year.” She chewed on her bottom lip.
“Do you want me to have a word with her?” He didn’t mind fighting with his mate. Her bite was sharp and she was fast, but they usually ended up naked by the end of their arguments. Yet he had so much to do to make tonight perfect.
Beth fingered her flawless manicured nails. “Is everything okay between you two?”
The knot in his stomach returned. “Why would you ask that?”
She shrugged. “The only difference between this year and last year is you.”
Wow, and everyone thought the omega had no claws. She might as well have cut out his heart. “We’re fine. Better than fine.” Smoke trailed out of his right nostril and he coughed to clear his lungs. He’d been trying hard to make friends with Beth. Setting her desk on fire would push that goal back years. “Can you keep a secret?”
Beth sat up straighter, eyes wide as she met his gaze directly. “What is it?”
It was difficult not to grin at her enthusiasm and sudden lack of avoiding dominance issues. “I want to surprise Angie by decorating the castle for Christmas. I want to go all out—lights, tree, and dinner.”
She clapped her hands together, eyes bright with excitement. “That’s a great idea. What have you done so far?”
“I have a tree.”
Her clapping slowed. “That’s it? You do realize it’s Christmas Eve?”
Maybe he liked fearful Beth better. “I do but everything I own is ancient and falling apart. Possibly a fire hazard.”
“Then go buy new stuff.” She crossed her arms. “And get some help so it’s ready for when she gets home tonight.” She pointed at the darkening sky.” You’re running out of time. Do you need my credit card?” She reached behind for her purse.
“No.” He blinked at the odd suggestion. “I have money.”
“Oh, I just thought… I mean… The state of your castle.” She lowered her gaze again, hands clasped in front of her.
“It’s an old castle. It’s supposed to look like that.” He petted her hair, knowing wolf shifters needed touch for reassurance, unlike dragons.
She went very still.
He petted her head one more time. That was awkward. He wouldn’t do that again. “Your suggestion was excellent. I’ll call in reinforcements. Let me know when Angie leaves.”
She shot him a quick look and an even faster grin. “You got it, Sir. Want me to take her out shopping and give you a few extra hours? I know she hasn’t started buying presents yet. She tried to bribe me to do it this morning.”
“You’re the best.” Eoin pulled out his cell phone from his back pocket as he exited the shop. Surprisingly, it was fully charged. Angie was so good at taking care of him. He called his oldest friend in the city, Viktor, an ancient warrior vampire. “I need your help,” he said when Viktor answered. “I’ll be at your place in five minutes.”
“Shovel or sword?” Viktor sounded as if he had just awakened.
“Neither, just muscle and speed. Lots of speed.” He hung up and scrolled through the few numbers he had saved. He swore Angie had added new ones.
There it was.
“Ken Birch,” answered the werewolf.
“This is Eoin. Do you have any plans tonight?”
“Eoin? How did you get my number? Never mind. Don’t answer that. I’m helping Betty prepare for tomorrow’s party.”
“Betty is a capable woman. She can handle it. I need a favor.” Eoin climbed into his pickup truck.
“Uh, what is it?”
“I want to surprise Angie. How are your tree trimming skills?” The truck started with a rumble.
“Fine. When exactly did I fall into the friend zone?”
Eoin could hear muffled voices behind Ken. “Are you at the office?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m just down the street. Be ready.”
The office building the New Port werewolf pack owned was just a few blocks away. He pulled into the alpha’s parking spot at the front entrance when Ken strode out wearing a three-piece suit.
The young werewolf climbed into the front seat and belted in. “Just for the record, my alpha will not like us being friends.”
“Your dad can bite me.” The alpha and Eoin couldn’t seem to be in the same room without trying to kill each other.
Ken gave him a wolfish grin. “I would pay good money to watch.” He peered out of the windshield. “Where are we going?”
“To pick up one more person.” Eoin scanned the sky. The sun had just set and would be safe for the vampire to exit his home.
The drive to Viktor’s tattoo studio didn’t take long since they were driving against traffic. As Eoin parked, the vampire seemed to materialize by the passenger door. It was a trick of speed.
The werewolf startled. “Fucking fuck.” His eyes narrowed as he focused on Viktor. “You.”
Eoin closed his eyes. He had forgotten that Viktor had almost eaten Ken’s mate. Before the werewolf could open the door, Eoin grabbed him by the scruff of his suit and yanked him into the center of the pickup trucks only bench. “Don’t do anything rash.”
Viktor cracked the passenger door open. “Ken, nice to see you again.”
“You spelled my tattoo wrong.” He pointed to the spot over his heart.
Eoin snorted a laugh and leaned across Ken. “Can we do this while I drive? I’m on a time constraint.” When had Viktor and the young werewolf become friendly enough for Ken to agree to get a tattoo? He glanced at Ken. “You do realize Viktor’s first language isn’t English, right?”
“He wrote Betsy instead of Betty. I have another woman’s name instead of my mate on my body.”
Viktor climbed in and buckled his belt. “This is cozy.” They were crammed shoulder-to-shoulder against each other, barely giving them any breathing room. “It’s an easy fix.” He winked at Eoin over Ken’s head. “Why did you bring the puppy?”
“Puppy? I’m the beta of New Port’s werewolf pack.” Ken’s eyes shifted to a golden amber color.
“Viktor and I are hundreds of years old.” Eoin drove to a huge hardware outlet store not far from the road that climbed the mountain and to his castle. “You will always be a puppy to us.”
“I’m starting to understand why my father hates you both.” He crossed his arms, elbowing both Eoin and Viktor in the process.
Eoin parked illegally on the grass median since the parking lot was devoid of any empty spaces. The three of them marched through the front entrance and halted.
“I was not expecting this,” said Viktor. “You did not mention anything about shopping.”
Eoin rubbed his hands together. “We have two, maybe three hours to decorate the castle for Angie.” Shoppers with the full carts pressed together in lines at the cash registers. Christmas music played in the background as store employees hurried to fill the emptying shelves. “Ken, Christmas tree decorations. Viktor, to the electrical department and get as many strings of lights that you can carry.”
The vampire eyed Eoin. “Where are you going?”
“I want a giant gingerbread man that waves.”
Ken blinked a few times. “There is a hell on earth.”