Page 40 of Demon's Joy

She lifts a trembling hand and points towards a doorway that leads to his office. I waste no time racing in that direction.

If I can give Santa the cane, he can stop all of this. He can destroy the demons and save Christmas. He can save us all.

I shove open the door to his office, which is normally a gorgeous room with wood paneled walls and hunter green carpeting and a little fireplace behind his desk hung with stockings all year round. Only now, the walls are splashed with dried blood, the green carpeting is stained with a substance I really don’t want to know the origins of, and the stockings are shredded.

“Oh, Dad!” I cry as soon as I catch sight of my father. He’s hogtied in the corner of the room, his face covered in dark bruises and blood dripping from a wound on his head. His clothes are ripped, and some of his hair is even stained pink. Obviously, Bryn’s spell reached him, even in a separate room, for his chest rises and falls steadily as he sleeps. The magic should have worn off, but maybe his injuries have kept him under. “Dad!” I shake his shoulder desperately, but he continues to sleep away, utterly oblivious to the mayhem just a room away. “Dad!” No response.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

Maybe I can get Bryn here to wake him…

But we don’t have time.

I can hear the growls and cries of pain as my demons fight once more, and I don’t know how much longer they’ll last.

Fear rakes across my back, and I turn away from Dad, holding the cane tighter. I hear a howl of pain from Cal that punts my heart right out of the office. A surge of adrenaline washes away my trepidation. I refuse to lose any of the men I’ve come to care about. I may be wary of them, I may be upset and confused about this whole reindeer thing, but they’re stillmine. My demons. My mates. My fucking future boyfriends.

Yes, I’m claiming them. I’m allowed to. I think after the shit day I’ve had, I can call these sexy as sin men mine. I’m not one for labels, but I’m firmly slapping one on all five of them. Right on their foreheads so the entire world can know who they belong to—me.

And if those demon assholes think they can hurt my guys, then they can go right on back to Hell. I’m happy to send them there.

“I love you, Dad,” I whisper before I start to march back down the hall, swinging the Christmas cane in front of me like it’s a bo staff. For Dad, I’ll be brave. For my demons. For the cherubs. For everyone awaiting their presents Christmas morning. Because Christmas is all about hope and joy. And these fuckers want to deprive two separate realms of that. Not on my watch.

The toy shop…

It’s a war zone. Gus and Ugly are in the middle of a fight in the air, howling like wild animals as they shoot dark jets of magic at one another. A slime machine has burst, its green guts oozing across the floor. There’s a black spot where the harmonicas used to be made, and the scent of singed metal sizzles in my nostrils.

Blue battles Bryn and Nico on the ground. They’re hurling plastic cars at each other. The miniature vehicles tumble through the air, careening off each other’s bodies. A Jeep grazes Bryn’s wing, and he lets out a roar of fury that startles even me. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the sloth demon angry. Even as a reindeer, he was the most chill. Not now. He raises his hands and blasts Blue with some kind of sand magic. It hits the evil demon in the chest and sends him sliding backwards across the floor.

Cal is still throwing punches into Bangs’s face, but they are at least ten feet from where they started, and there’s blood dripping from a slash on Cal’s shoulder, so Bangs has clearly gotten in several smacks of his own. Two of the rival demons are tied up in the far corner, knocked flat on their backs, snarling and hissing, while Dem unties their shoes and tosses them to the side. I don’t know why the thievery demon is going for their shoes and not the swords on their backs, but I don’t dare question his madness.

A burst of horrific grief rolls through the workshop, and I watch my guys sag as defeat drips like poison into their eyes.

Fuck.

No.

In a flash, the tide has turned. My guys curl into balls, go fetal. I hear Bangs chuckle evilly as he throws Cal off, as if he’s been toying with him all along.

My own head is full of dark things. Mom’s death, and her empty face. Dad’s sad eyes for years after the funeral. I have to fight those thoughts off like they are demons themselves.

My hand grows slick on the Christmas cane. It trembles. I wet my lips with my tongue and slowly lift the cane.

You can do this, Joy. To save Christmas. To save Santa. To save your mates.

I hold the cane outwards and focus my energy into the swirling orb of green and red Christmas lights.

I instruct the magic not to hurt my mates or the cherubs. I tell it to target only the demons who wish to do us harm. I can feel the power coursing through my veins, setting my blood aflame, and I squeeze my eyelids shut as it rushes through me like a geyser being blown wide open. All at once, the magic shoots out of the glass, and five individual streams hit each of the bad demons, wrapping around their bodies like Christmas tinsel.

The force of the power sends me staggering back a step, but I don’t allow my grip on the cane to loosen. I direct the flood of power at the demons, the magic cocooning them like wrapping paper…

“Holy fook.” Nico. I’d recognize his accent anywhere.

I peel my eyelids open to see all of my demons back on the ground, staring at me in wide-eyed wonder. Besides a few bruises and scratches, they seem relatively unharmed. I can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. I don’t know what I would’ve done if they’d been seriously injured, or worse.

And then I turn towards where Bangs and his crew once were, scattered throughout the workshop…

Only to see five Barbie dolls in their place.

Holy fuck is right.

I turned the demons into fucking Barbies.

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