Page 19 of Unholy Night
“Hellhounds.” Lyla’s tone speaks volumes about her thoughts on that, but I just shrug.
“We must work with what we have, my dear. Unless you have a better idea?” I lean toward her curious to see what she might suggest.
She purses her lips then nods. “Okay, Hellhounds. What about elves?”
“I’m sure my demons would love a change of pace. They can help orchestrate this.”
She nods again. “Sled?”
I pretend to frown. “Will a coffin be sufficient? They’re quite comfortable.”
“Why do you have coffins here?” she asks, incredulous.
I chuckle. “You likely don’t want to know.”
“Right,” she says. “I don’t think we’ll fit in a coffin.”
I lean back again and smile. “We could go try, if you’d like.”
“In your dreams, Lucie.” This time a hint of a smile accompanies the tinge of red in her cheeks and I don’t cringe at the nickname.
“Shame. I would have enjoyed that.” I arch an eyebrow and lean forward again, encroaching on her personal space.
“Yes, you would have.” She reaches out a hand and just when I think she’s going to caress my cheek she uses the tip of her pointer finger to push my face away. “But it’s not going to happen.”
I let her push me away, enjoying just that simple touch. There’s something in her scent that lets me know while she is telling me no, there is also a hint of ‘not yet’ too. Plus I have the benefit of being on the receiving end of her sexy smirk, so I have no immediate complaints.
“Just as well. A coffin won’t have the magic we need to do this right. I’m afraid we have no other choice but to take drastic action.” I steeple my fingers and smile. I knew this was our only real option from the beginning. “We need to put together an extraction team.”
“Extraction team? What on Earth are you talking about?” She looks at me with an expression that clearly says she thinks I’m crazy.
“Ah. You forget. We’re not on Earth right now.” I stand up and stroll to a long golden chord hanging next to the wall. Gently I pull it and the sound of a deep bell peels through the corridors. “And we need an extraction team to steal a sleigh.”
“You want to steal Santa’s sleigh?” She shivers, obviously remembering the elf’s anger. “That seems…”
“Naughty?” I smile. “Well, he did tell us to do his job and a sleigh is a basic requirement, is it not? Besides, we’re not stealing. We’re… borrowing it for the night.”
“Riiiight.” She stands up and crosses her arms. “And what if borrowing Santa’s sleigh lands Mandy on the Naughty List for the rest of her life?”
“Not possible. It’s my plan, my minions, and my pleasure. Nothing will taint your sweet daughter.” I look over at the small form in front of my fireplace, one of her hands clutching the velvet bag. “Trust me on this, Lyla. I know enough about that elf's magic to be certain it will not taint Mandy in any way. And I haven’t been on the Good List… ever. So, no harm done.”
Instead of laughing like I expect, she gives me a long searching look. “That’s the real shame,” she says quietly.
For the first time in centuries I feel… flustered. Her scent isn’t the cloying smell of carnations that I associate with pity. In fact, I’m not sure how to label her scent. A hint of displeasure and… that same smell she emitted when guarding her daughter. Again I wish I had the power to read minds, not just souls. This woman is frustratingly complex; but in a very good way. She wasn’t worried about herself being on the Naughty List, but the thought of me being on it...
I clasp my hands behind my back and look toward Mandy’s tiny form. There is much to ponder when it comes to Lyla and not nearly enough time in which to do it.
Finally she speaks again. “So. We’re going to jack Santa’s sleigh.”
“Yes.” My voice sounds rough, so I clear my throat. “Our help should be here soon.”
“Well, if this is what we have to do, then it’ll have to work. But I have a lot of questions.”
“What a shock,” I deadpan, clutching my heart dramatically.
She narrows her eyes at me then glances over to Mandy, who has finally given in to her exhaustion and has fallen asleep on the thick rug in front of the fire. Lyla's expression shifts from reprimanding to peaceful as she smiles, the love for her child lighting up her face with such beauty it nearly steals my breath.
I reach for the throw blanket hanging on the back of my chair and gently place it over the small girl, though she hardly needs it with all the layers she’s wearing.