Page 20 of Winter Reckoning
“Not everything needs to go on the list. I can hear unwritten wishes. Despite his fear, that boy wanted to walk in his father’s shoes. That Christmas I gave him the gift of winter.”
Three days after Christmas, I woke up burning hot. I ran out the front door and threw myself into a snow pile. Mom had shouted I’d catch a cold. If only she had understood the irony at the time. My powers showed up shortly after.
I looked down at my hands. The wife of a cop, she had been reluctant when I told her my plan to be a superhero. While other kids got their driver’s permits, for my sixteenth birthday she sewed my first costume. It was her network of wives that got me a role as a sidekick with another powered officer. I had never connected my abilities with that letter.
"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked. “At the cabin?”
"Would you have believed me?"
No. I wouldn't have. I'd been wrapped up in my detachment, determined to become nothing more than a memory. Now that I looked back, the signs had been there. The cozy home, thered flannel, even Charlene’s obsession with Christmas. I had to wonder if the woodshed was filled with elves assembling toys.
But now...
He offered me the badge, and I held up my hand.
My brain reeled as I tried to absorb the reality of the situation. It was one thing to protect a defense attorney’s witness, or even put a stop to a supervillain. But this? I tried repeatedly to state it clearly, but my brain resisted.
I closed his fingers around the badge. "Keep it," I said. “Six-year-old me thought you deserved it.”
My hand lingered. Staring into those gray eyes, all I could see was a man grappling with fate. They were the same eyes I saw in the mirror every morning. Except, these didn’t belong to a ragged man refusing to plot out the next stage of his life. These belong to a man known around the globe, probably one of the most recognized figures in history.
Saint Nicholas.
"Thank you," he said. “For the badge.” His eyes looked down to where I still held his hand. “And for staying.”
I didn't know how to respond. It’d be cliche to say he had warmed my cold heart, but it’d fit in this context. Him being a jolly legend who delivered presents around the world changed nothing about the mission. One way or another, I’d get him out alive.
It wasn’t all about protocols and goals. Nick, the man, had come to my defense, nearly sacrificing himself. It wasn’t much different from the soup. He might not be a man of many words, but his actions spoke volumes. After our tryst, I thought it made things awkward. As my finger brushed against a point on the plastic shield, I realized this man had been part of my life as long as I could remember.
I didn’t let go until his eyes shut and he drifted off. As soon as our fingers parted, his fingers shimmered, turning translucent.I could make out the deputy sheriff on the badge. Charlene’s statement had nagged at me. She had given me the answer like a smack in the face.
Nick wasn’t dying like a mortal. He was fading from the lack of belief.
9
I sat next to Nick,my arm holding him against my chest. If he were a normal human, I’d have checked his temperature or taken his pulse. I didn’t know if myths were alive like us or if these were the forms they had taken when they appeared. Once this was over, I’d spend some time at the Vanguard library and brush up on legends and folklore.
My body ached. It didn’t require a medical degree to know I had cracked at least one rib. Even my hands had dried out from channeling too much power. I might have been banged and bruised, but I wasn’t out of the fight.
I chuckled. The more I thought about it… this wasn’t about closing out a file. In the silence of my office, I needed to admit this was about finding purpose. I wanted to leave the Task Force, but I didn’t want to be forgotten. Crossing over that horizon, another adventure awaited, and something about that made meexcited.
I kissed his temple. His hand slid along my thigh until brushed my package. With a tight squeeze, I realized my snoozing Santa had all but drifted off. His head tilted back with a serious look. The shimmering had stopped, at least temporarily.My mind raced, except it had nothing to do with surveillance and strategy and everything to do with a gray-bearded man kneading my thigh.
Mission be damned. I kiss him.
He moved from the awkward angle, turning with his palm on my cheek, encouraging me forward. Nick tasted of peppermint and smelled of pine. His lips parted, and his tongue flicked against mine, soft, but with certainty. It wasn’t like last time. Neither of us rushed to strip. That had been about fear… this was about connection.
When he pulled away, our breath showed. I had let go, wanting to lose myself in the roughness of his beard and the softness of his lips. My powers had flared, but it seemed Nick didn’t mind a little chill. I took his hand from my cheek, kissing each of his knuckles. He didn’t shimmer. Whatever this was between us, it gave him a momentary respite.
I was about to pull him tighter when he slung a leg around, straddling my lap. For a large man, he moved with swift grace. Having a burly man on my lap had gotten my attention. My jeans grew tight, and I was painfully aware of each tooth on my zipper.
He pressed his forehead against mine. I closed my eyes and breathed him in. The air could be frigid, but his skin remained warm. With each breath, I imagined myself deeper in the forest, surrounded by towering trees. The hush between us reminded me of a snowy evening, and I risked disturbing the silence.
“I want this.” It came out in a desperate whisper, a plea correcting a fear.
He didn’t answer with words. Nick pulled his shirt over his head, revealing that beautiful chest. I hesitated, my hands hovering over his love handles. He reached down, pressing them against his body. I wasn’t the only man in this room who wanted to feel. My fingers tightened until I held him tight, pulling him closer to me.
When he went in for a kiss, my hands slid to his back and down to the waistband of his pants. Our first time had been a rushed affair. This time — I hoisted him up — I wanted to do this right. Holding him, I walked to my bedroom, knocking him against one, no two, doorways before I dropped him onto the mattress.
