Page 24 of Bewitched Before Christmas
He ran a hand through his hair, then with one last look at his brother—he wasn’t going anywhere—he crossed the space between them and halted in front of Lola, unsure what to say. He wanted to apologize, but he wasn’t sure what for. Just something to take the sadness from her face. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I brought you to this. Your life is forfeit. Because of me.”
“I’m not dead yet.”
He ignored the comment, because he was on a roll now. “Everyone I care about dies —you’re clearly not going to be any different. And it will be my fault. Just like I killed my family. Pride. I wanted to be the big man. Get them Christmas dinner. I probably alerted the redcoats and they came looking. My fault. And Gabe died protecting me.”
“He isn’t dead either,” she said, hugging the coat tighter around herself.
Might as well be. “And I shouldn’t have touched you. I was supposed to protect you.”
She peered up at him, eyes narrowed. “No, probably you should have kept your hands and your teeth to yourself. But don’t worry about it. If we’re going to start bemoaning our lives, then it’s my turn. Everyone leaves me.” She sniffed.
“I grew up knowing I was different. Alone. My sisters did their best, but Regan was never what you might call maternal. All I wanted was something of my own who would love me unconditionally. I begged Regan for a puppy for Christmas. Every year. But Regan said her Hell hounds would eat it. Maybe she knew the puppy would run away. God, I’m pathetic.” She lifted her chin and stared him in the face. “Anyway, my point is, I don't expect you to be any different. You were right. I am needy. But I think I’ve learned my lesson now. And you know what? I don’t needyou. In fact, you’re the last person I could ever need. Which means you’re off the hook.”
She jumped to her feet.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m not sure. But away from here. Maybe this”—she waved a hand at the frozen bodies— “isn’t everywhere. Perhaps I might find someone alive—or even better a cell signal—if I walk long enough.”
She started walking. He cast a last look at Gabe. Should he stay? In case he awoke. But Lola was disappearing down the road, his coat dragging in the snow. “Lola!”
She didn’t stop or even slow her pace. And he hurried after her. Then something in the sky caught his attention. A movement where everything had been so still.
He stopped in his tracks.What in hell?“Is that…?”
Not happening.
“Lola,” he said. “Stop. It’s Father fucking Christmas.”
Chapter Thirteen
Lola had decided to ignore him.
But really, that sort of comment was impossible to ignore.
She stared up at the sky and then stopped moving, her mouth dropping open. High above them, a sleigh was racing across the night sky. Pulled by some very strange looking horses—they had eight legs—it was heading directly toward them. The jingling of bells filled the air. Soon she could make out two people, sitting side by side, and behind them a pile of brightly colored presents.
Father Christmas.
She glanced at Lachlan. He looked back and shrugged. “This seems a little…surreal.”
Had the world woken up? But the werewolves were still frozen in place. She backed up so she was close enough to touch Lachlan. Then stood staring up at the sky as the sleigh drew near, and she got a clearer view of the two occupants.
The man had long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail and a black velvet patch covering his left eye. He looked nothing like a traditional plump, genial Father Christmas. But the sleigh, the presents…
She turned her attention to the woman beside him. And went still, her mind blank. Then she edged a little closer to Lachlan.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I think it’s my mother.”
“You think?”
“I told you—she dumped me on my sister when I was a few days old, and I haven’t seen her since. But…” She had seen images of her mother. And Regan had described her. She was pretty sure that the woman sitting in the sleigh next to Father Christmas was her mother.
Had she come to ensure that Lola paid the price for using the Earth magic. Had she come to extract that price? And bummed a lift with Father Christmas to get here. “Definitely surreal.”
“Didn’t you say your ma was a goddess.”