Page 5 of Unholy Night

“Oh now, little one! I didn’t mean any harm. I think I’ve just had a bit too much sugar.” The jerk smiles and kneels down to meet her gaze.

“That’s not an apology,” I point out. The little girl nods her head in agreement.

“Excuse me? Yeah. I’m still standing here.” The woman reaches a hand back and clasps the girl's shoulder as if to make sure she’s still there. “No one has answered my questions. Better yet, you both need to get out of here before the police arrive.”

Lie.

I can taste it on the air. Bitter and coppery. And that isn’t all I can taste. Fear is the strongest—the salty tang of it a too sweet candy I’ve grown tired of, but anger is quickly catching up, a spicy fiery flavor, followed by confusion, and something akin to… treachery? No, that isn’t the right word. Plotting? It tastes like bitter greens in butter. She’s trying to come up with a plan to evict us from her humble abode. Yes, if it was any other night, I might find myself delightfully enamored with her.

“My dear lady, we won’t stay but a moment longer. Please, take your sweet child back to bed and we will be out of your hair as soon as we settle something.” I smile and push a little compulsion into my words.

Her back straightens and I return my attention to the velvet atrocity next to me. He needs to leave. This house is clearly mine and I’m on a schedule.

“Do as the nice woman asked and get out of here.” I drop my smile and glare at the idiot. He is still smiling like the simpleton he is.

“Uh, no. I didn’t ask,” she says. “I told you both to get out.”

I turn back to see the woman standing stiffly, her mouth twisted in anger. That is justified, I suppose. I did just dismiss her as if she wasn’t important.

Santa cackles next to me. This isn’t his friendly Ho, Ho, Ho. No, it’s pure wicked delight. His smug emotions are almost thicker than the woman's fear. Cancel that thought. Her anger is most definitely in the lead now.

“Looks like your little trick didn’t work, Lucie.”

I grind my teeth but don’t respond. I hate that name more than I hate Cupid. But he’s right. Apparently my compulsion doesn’t work on this woman. I look at her with more interest. I used more than enough compulsion to have any human scampering off to do my bidding. Why isn’t she?

“Lucie?” She wrinkles her nose and I hate that I find it adorable even though she repeats that awful nickname. “Look, I don’t give two shits who either of you are. Get. Out. Of. My. House!”

“Mommy,” the little girl whispers. “That’s Santa Claus.”

Mandy. Her name is Mandy and the reason I’m here at all. I received the letter she wrote with her mother a few weeks ago. I remember it clearly because compared to the others it smelled sad but hopeful, like a flower in full bloom nearing the end of its lifespan. There had also been a whiff of desperation that I’m now sure had been the mother’s. I’d marked it as a VIP on my list. This little girl is close to losing her belief in magic and I am going to make sure that doesn’t happen.

Even if she had sent the letter to the wrong place. After all, she's only eight. She had all the letters right, just a little out of order.

“That’s right. I’m Santa Claus and I’m here to bring you a present.”

“No, you are not.” I whirl toward him. “I showed you the letter. She wrote tome.”

“On accident!” The elf rises to his feet entirely too quickly for someone his age. “She meant to write to me. That’s why I’m here. It’s Christmas. This is what I do. You have a job. Leave me to mine and go torture some kittens.”

A tiny gasp reminds me that we are not alone.

“I do not torture kittens!” I raise my hands as if to defend myself. See? No kittens.

“Is this a joke? Are you part of some sick prank?” The little girl's mother raises her shoe higher and gestures in our direction with the pointy heel. “It’s Christmas Eve! This is not funny! I swear if you don’t get out of here right now, I’m going to call the police!”

I cock my head at her and frown. Well, she blew her own lie and I’m not sure if I’m amused or disappointed. From the look in her eyes she must’ve realized her mistake too.

“Now, Lyla, we’re not here to hurt you or Mandy. Lucie is just a little confused about his job description.” The idiot smiles in their direction

“My name is Lucifer. Stop using that idiotic nickname, you self-righteous toddler. I’m older than the land your workshop is built on.” I owe Michael more payback than a solid punch or two. I’ve been hearing that stupid Lucie crap for eons. I look at the elf my father chose and anger washes through my body.

“Careful. You’re frightening the little one.” Jolly Old Fat Sack tips his head in the human’s direction.

I take a breath and squeeze my hands into fists, putting out the flames that are gathering in my palms. Fear is quickly filling the tiny living room so thickly I can barely breathe, and I fight to not choke on it. No matter the years I spend as Hell's Keeper, I never get used to that smell. It clings to everything in my domain, and this is supposed to be my chance to escape it for a night, but more and more the human plane smells of fear as much as hell itself.

I close my eyes and breathe through my mouth. I know it’s a flimsy excuse, but I will not have it taken away from me. Besides, I actually enjoy the irony of it all. And I’m not going to let the red Michelin Man ruin it for me.

Slowly, I loosen my fingers and open my eyes. What had he called the mother? She’s not on any lists I have so I had no way of finding out.

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