Page 2 of Hostile Holiday

She followed the troll past the great room where the party would be tomorrow. She was walked into the dining room, where the remains of the night’s meal were visible, and she knew this was a setup.

Orla stood and reached into the bag slowly. She pulled out the gift she had obtained when her father asked, “Why are you here? The party is tomorrow. You can’t even get that right?”

Her brother smirked. “So dumb she can’t manage a calendar.”

“The date on my invitation changed, and I didn’t want to be accused of being non-filial. So, here I am. I have a present for Grandfather, and then, I will leave.”

Her grandfather was grey-haired with a few lines, but that was it. Warlocks aged well.

“It is a day early, but fine. I will accept it.”

She walked over and set the item next to him, and then, she backed up out of striking distance.

Her grandfather touched the item and turned it in his fingers. “You have me stumped. What is it?”

“The trapped magic of an archmage. It will reset your body to forty years old.”

Her grandfather raised his brows. “Really? That would be handy right now.”

She frowned. “Why?”

“I need a liver donor. For obvious reasons, neither your brother nor my son is a candidate.”

The other two lifted their glasses to her. Whiskey and blood shared space in the family circulatory system. Magic-wise, it was a focus tool. The alcohol relaxed control, but it also let them access their magic. All three of them were fairly relaxed right now, which made this situation dangerous.

“Have you gone through the organ programs?”

Her grandfather snorted. “Of course. As my magic is alcohol-based, I am not an acceptable candidate. So, I need you to go and get tested immediately.”

“What?”

Her brother sneered. “We need you to be useful for once. Get the testing done and then hop on that table so your grandfather can live a long and healthy life.”

She was stunned. “So, that is why I was here early? To get this assignment to have myself carved up?”

Her father snorted. “Of course. We haven’t invited you to the last fifteen celebrations. Why do you think you got an invitation this year?”

She sighed. “Yes. I am very glad I didn’t wear the sweater.” She looked at her brother. “Your touch, I guess?”

He shrugged. “You have always been so obliging to provide entertainment since Mother passed.”

Orla tightened her mouth. “I will go to the hospital and be checked for donation. I will do it right now.”

Her father narrowed his eyes at her. “No formal greeting for me?”

“No, sir. You don’t like them.”

He smiled cruelly. “Finally, you have learned. Right. Off you go. If we don’t hear from the hospital by the party, we will come looking for you.”

“I am sure. Hunting me has always been one of your hobbies.” She turned and left with the bag in her hand. She walked out at a slow and steady pace, kept herself calm, and only slipped a few times before she got to her car.

She started her car, kept her foot on the brake, and released the parking brake. She held her breath as she slid down the drive, and when she passed one of the topiaries, she released her brakes and started to steer. Orla stopped at the edge of the road and then got moving before the gates closed on her car. Her family were assholes.

She drove home carefully, approaching the bridge back to the city. She felt the tingle in the car. It began to speed up, and she held on. This was going to be bad. She got ready to swim.

* * * *

Grendel chuckled as he worked his curse over his sibling’s car. His father chuckled. “Just verifying that Father gets that liver. Hypothermia is an excellent way to preserve a body.”

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