Font Size:

Page 25 of Bewitched Before Christmas

“Yeah. War and pestilence.” She took a deep breath. “Come meet my mom.”

The sleigh was landing now, tossing up a cloud of powdery snow, the four horses stamping and snorting white mist into the cold air.

Lola held herself very still as the woman climbed down from the sleigh. She was tall, slender, with long black hair threaded with crow’s feathers, and silver eyes rimmed with charcoal. Her skin was smooth and olive-toned, her face marked with curling runes radiating out from the corners of her eyes, and she wore a band studded with rubies around her upper arm.

“I can see the resemblance,” Lachlan murmured.

And she snorted.

Her mother was beautiful and terrifying. Not little and cute. She strolled toward them, her gaze flicking between her and Lachlan. She was half a foot taller than Lola—what had her father been—a dwarf?

“Daughter.”

“Mother.” She took a deep breath. Her heart hammering, because really while she’d accepted it, she didn’t want to die. She had things to do. But she forced the question out. “Is my life forfeit?”

“For what?”

She waved a hand toward the frozen werewolves and Lachlan’s frozen brother. “I stopped the world.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I didn’t?”

“No. I did. I saw a vision. And while I may not have played a huge part in your life…” Lola must have made some sort of expression of disbelief, because her eyes narrowed. “Be thankful I didn’t try. Your sister did a much better job than I could ever do. Anyway, while I may have remained on the periphery of your life, I do try to be there when I’m needed. And clearly, in this instance, I was needed.” She turned her attention to Lachlan and pursed her lips. “The vampire was supposed to protect you. And he was doing a crap job.”

“He was…distracted.”

“So I stepped in. Think of it as a Christmas present.”

“Well, that will be a first,” she muttered.

“Can you reverse it?” Lachlan asked from beside her.

Her mother’s stare turned cold. Her gaze drifted down over the half-naked vampire, then back to Lola. Did her focus settle on the bite marks that were still visible on her throat? Lola resisted the urge to lift her hand, cover them up. “My daughters have the strangest taste in…men. I’m not sure where that comes from. Though I suppose he is pretty.” She shrugged. “Come along. Our ride doesn’t have all night. He has presents to deliver. Let me take you to your sisters. Your family are waiting for you at the castle.”

Her family—that made her feel warm and fuzzy. They hadn’t forgotten her or abandoned her.

Their ‘ride’ was leaning back in his seat, boots up on the front of the sleigh, smoking a cigarette, watching them out of his single eye.

She sidled closer to her mother. “Is he really Father Christmas?” she asked. “He doesn’t look quite…what I expected.”

Her mother smiled. “He used to be known as Odin, and he led the Wild Hunt across the skies at Yuletide, doling out presents to the deserving, and death to others. Then mankind decided to give him a revamp. It never quite took. But we’ve been friends a long time.”

Lola had a horrible thought. Though he didn’t look particularly short. “Good friends?”

“Not that good.”

“I’m staying,” Lachlan said.

Lola turned to look at him. He had a closed off expression, his mouth a firm line. She didn’t want to leave him here. Not with a brother who hated him and had a big sword.

“Please Lachlan, come with us. Or I’ll stay. But don’t leave me. Everyone leaves me.” She didn’t care if she did sound needy. “Please. I lied. I do need you.”

He stared straight ahead. “You should go. You don’t need me. Your family is waiting for you. There’s nothing for you here and I’m quite capable of looking after myself. I’ve been doing it for three hundred years.”

He was right. And without her to look out for, she was sure he was more than a match for a pack of werewolves. But all the same, she had to swallow down the urge to beg. Because he was right. She’d known all along that Lachlan would never give her what she needed. That’s why she’d been so shocked when she’d kissed him under the mistletoe in some unknown future that was never going to happen. Why she’d been determined to get away. Because it could never work. She couldn’t make him care. The last hours had been nothing but time out. And now it was time to get back to real life. And her family were waiting—and they did care for her. Suddenly she had an overwhelming urge for her big sister, Regan, to hug her tight.

For a moment, she stood, unable to move, then she gave herself a shake. She searched the ground and found Lachlan’s pistols where he’d dropped them in the snow. Picking them up, she went back to where he stood and pressed them into his hands.