Cupid Claws: The Twelve Mates Of Christmas, Book 6 Read online

  “The sooner my training’s complete, the sooner I can start seeing Holly more,” said Rowan.

  “Uh…” started Krampus.

  “What are you not telling me?” asked Rowan, who stopped rowing toward the island.

  “It’s nothing,” said Krampus.

  “Cool, I’ll just go ask Avery then,” said Rowan. He started rowing the boat back to the bakery.

  “No!” shouted Krampus. “It’s just…look. Things are weird between Avery and me right now. They’re awkward. They’re always awkward. I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Ironic, because all I want to do is talk to Holly,” said Rowan, slowly rowing back to the island.

  “I just need a few days,” promised Krampus.

  “Uh-huh,” said Rowan. “And what about Holly and me?”

  “Maybe you two could use the space,” said Krampus. “What? You two rushed things! I told you, I’m sure Cupid told you. I tried to tell you back in Nuthusk, but, oh, no – all you cared about was meeting Santana! You had to get off The Naughty List, earn back your mate mark, and then, you could claim your mate. What you have on you ain’t a mate mark, even if it looks like one. You did things out of order.”

  “Guess I need to figure out a way to get off of The Naughty List,” said Rowan.

  Rowan tried to focus on ways to get off of The Naughty List, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Holly, to trying to explain things to her. How could he explain something to someone that just didn’t want to listen to reason? She’d seemed interested in his story — why he was a flying frikkin’ reindeer, for starters — but then, as soon as things got awkward, she had shut him out.

  Rowan spent the day splitting logs for Krampus, while Krampus stewed in his chair, reading a book on the weaknesses of ice elementals, leaving Rowan to manually go and grab logs, split them, and put the split logs in the firewood pile before Rowan repeated the process over again. Finally, Krampus called it a day, and Rowan went inside.

  Rowan was showering while Krampus made dinner — baked beans with hot dogs cut up into octopus shapes. That’s when the perfect idea hit Rowan. He toweled off, changed into his sweatpants, and went downstairs.

  “Krampus,” said Rowan. “I’ve figured it out.”

  “Figured out what?” asked Krampus, turning to look at Rowan, doing a double take, before looking back at the beans and raising an eyebrow, smirking to himself.

  “The way to get off of The Naughty List!” said Rowan.

  “Oh, I’m very interested in hearing about this,” said Krampus, serving out two big bowls of beans, topped with the octopus sausages. He poured two large glasses of milk. Rowan carried the dishes and glasses of milk to the table.

  Rowan sat down and sipped at the milk while Krampus took off his pink frilly apron and hung it up on the hook in the kitchen.

  “Okay,” said Rowan. “First step — I need to find some more needy kids.”

  “To steal their Christmas wishes so you can use them to get off of The Naughty List,” said Krampus, deadpan.

  “No,” said Rowan. “Needy kids who need Christmas trees, and people like Avery who have more ornaments than they know what to do with. We have the Christmas trees. You do the math.”

  “You’re going to have all of them write to Santa, begging for you to be granted some of that good-old-fashioned Samuel Clemency,” said Krampus. “Samuel Clemens? Mark Twain? Clemency? Ugh — what do they teach you at matchmaker college?”

  “I got the reference — it just wasn’t funny,” sassed Rowan. “We’ll provide the trees. People like Avery, who love Christmas and have loads of ornaments just sitting in their dusty basements, can donate their extra Christmas decor. The kids get to have nice Christmas trees for once.”

  “Huh,” said Krampus. “It’s a good idea. I’d say it’s nearly guaranteed to get you off of The Naughty List. Only problem is, it won’t.”

  “What?” asked Rowan. “Why not?”

  “There’s a hole in your plan,” said Krampus, eating his beans.

  “Well?” asked Rowan.

  “You’re not on The Naughty List,” said Krampus.

  “I am — that’s the entire problem,” said Rowan.

  “Are you sure about that?” asked Krampus, motioning at Rowan with his hot dog octopus, splattering baked beans on Rowan’s chest.

  “Ugh, gross —” started Rowan, but then, as he looked down at his chest, blotting it with his napkin, he realized what Krampus meant.

  One word. Bright red. ‘Naughty.’

  That word had been wiped from Rowan’s chest like chalk from a slate.

  In its place was a single word, in spring green — ‘Nice.’

  “Are…you…fucking…kidding me?” asked Rowan. For once, the word didn’t burn when he cursed.

  One perk of getting off of The Naughty List, said Cupid.

  And I’m still stuck with you, said Rowan.

  “Congrats, Rowan — you got off of The Naughty List,” said Krampus.

  “What happens next?” asked Rowan.

  “Well, you still have to help Santana with The Ride — that was a promise you made. You also need to claim your fated mate by Christmas if you want to keep your shift, which reminds me — you’ll need this,” said Krampus. He reached across the table and pressed on Rowan’s chest. Rowan felt an intense heat — but no pain. Krampus pulled his hand away. Rowan’s mate mark was back where it belonged.

  “This would’ve been helpful yesterday,” said Rowan. “I don’t understand. Why did I…” Rowan’s words trailed off as he racked his brains for answers.

  “Seriously?” asked Krampus. “You gave that guy a tree — and you made him, his wife, and his kids all believe in Christmas magic last night when he went home with those boxes of free ornaments and lights. Heck, they didn’t even have to see the tree to believe in Christmas miracles, and you, well, I guess that makes you their Christmas angel. That was a good enough deed to get you off of The Naughty List.”

  “I wasn’t even trying to get off of The Naughty List when I did that — although it did inspire my plan,” said Rowan. “I was just trying to do the right thing.”

  “In the end, isn’t that what Christmas magic is all about?” asked Krampus.

  “Yeah, I guess it is,” said Rowan.

  “Well, you’re wrong, because actually, there’s very complicated science behind Christmas magic,” said Krampus.

  “Really?” asked Rowan.

  “No,” sighed Krampus. “You’re so damn gullible, Rowan.”

  Chapter Five

  December 14th, 2012

  “Why so glum, sugar plum?” said a male voice. Holly looked up, expecting to see Rowan. Instead, she saw Jack, carrying two drinks. Pandora was next to him. The young man was wearing a navy-blue leather coat and had his white hair slicked back. He looked like a greaser, straight out of the 1950s. In contrast, Pandora was wearing a holiday sweater in red and green, her black hair hanging down around in two pigtails over her shoulders. They were tied at the end with hair ties that had tiny green and red plastic balls, decorated to look like ornaments.

  “Hey, Jack,” said Holly. “Hey, Pandora. “It’s nothing.”

  “You seem kinda down in the dumps, sugar lumps,” said Pandora.

  “What is with the two of you and the rhyming?” mused Holly. “Alright. Look. I have to help Avery organize a fun holiday party.”

  “Where’s it being held?” asked Pandora.

  “The local community center — glamourous, right?” sassed Holly. “The thing is, I don’t know what people would find fun around here.”

  “Same things they find fun anywhere,” said Jack. “How about sledding down ice flumes?”

  “Where the heck did you grow up where that’s how you spend the holidays?” asked Holly, raising a brow.

  “He’s, uh, not exactly big into Christmas — yet,” said Pandora. “Hanging around me and my dad, the holiday cheer is bound to rub off on this humbug one of these days.”
/>   “Ha-ha,” said Jack, rolling his eyes.

  “Believe it or not, Jack secretly loves Christmas,” whispered Pandora. “I just pretend to buy into his whole ‘icy bad boy’ thing because it’s his current vibe or whatever.”

  “You know I’m standing right here and heard every word, right?” asked Jack.

  “As I was saying…event, holidays, has to be something Christmassy, but, I don’t know what I should organize,” said Holly. “All the standard events are being put on by other groups in town. The chamber of commerce has organized a caroling party. The yarn store down the street is running a used sweater drive for the needy. Even the hardware store’s hosting a frikkin’ seminar on Christmas light safety!”

  “So don’t put on a standard event,” said Jack. “Try something non-standard — like, apparently, sledding down ice flumes butt-naked.”

  “I think the people of The Wreath are going to want to keep their naughty bits and not have them frozen off,” said Pandora, crossing her arms. “But…Jack’s got a point. Try doing something non-standard, something special, something that you would want to do.”

  “Something I’d want to do?” mused Holly. Images flashed through her head — bright pink and white bouquets, tied up in rose pink organza with champagne ribbons. She smelled jasmine, violet, and even the sweet, herbal scent of chamomile. She smiled to herself.

  “I know that look,” said Pandora. “I see it on my dad’s workers’ faces when they get a great idea. So, little Christmas elf — what’s your genius idea?”

  “It’s nothing,” said Holly, and the images faded from her mind. “It’s a stupid idea.”

  “Try me,” said Pandora.

  “Well…recently, I saw pictures of a really nice event where singles came and met other singles. It was held in a garden, in the spring, and they made bouquets, floral cocktails, and danced…after a round of speed dating, of course,” said Holly.

  “That doesn’t sound like a dumb idea to me,” said Jack.

  “It doesn’t?” asked Holly.

  “Not at all,” said Jack. “Just sub in Christmas stuff for all that fancy-schmancy floral stuff.”

  “Pandora was right about you,” said Holly with a grin. “You really are a big softie on the inside.”

  “How did you come across the original event that inspired you?” asked Pandora.

  “There’s this guy…but, it’s not important,” said Holly.

  “A guy? Now you have to dish,” said Pandora, taking a seat. “Jack, go outside and make a snowman or somethin’. We need to have some girl time.”

  Jack saluted Pandora and headed outside.

  “So, who is he?” asked Pandora.

  “His name is Rowan,” said Holly.

  “And?” asked Pandora.

  “And he used to come see me every day, but, for the last week or so, things have been…awkward, to say the least,” said Holly.

  “Awkward?” asked Pandora.

  “He’s a shifter — reindeer shifter — and, well, I’m not his fated mate,” said Holly. “I’m just an ugly duckling. He used to come and hang out at the bakery. Remember the day he helped me hang up all the lights and decorations? Now, he just comes over, gets the food ordered by Camp Kringle, and bounces. Some days, all Rowan says is a quick ‘hi.’ Not even a ‘goodbye’ or heck, even a ‘Merry Christmas!’“

  “Wait — are you talking about Rowan frikkin’ Hooligan?” asked Pandora.

  “Yeah,” said Holly. “How did you know?”

  “I, uh, work closely with my dad — Santana — and Rowan’s his temp this year,” said Pandora. “I saw his file. He’s a matchmaker. Makes sense that he’d be the one to inspire you to do a speed dating event. Are things too awkward for you to ask him for help organizing this thing?”

  “Honestly, I’d love the help — but I’m too embarrassed to ask him for it, especially given, y’know, the fact I’m not his fated mate,” hissed Holly.

  “Oh, you mean you two…” started Pandora, and then, she made an ‘O’ with one finger, poking her index finger back and forth through it.”

  “Yes, okay? And I’m not the one,” said Holly. “We’re not like you and Jack.”

  “You think me and Jack are mates?” asked Pandora. “Oh my gosh. No. We’re just best friends.”

  “Really?” asked Holly, quirking a brow. “I’ve seen the way you two look at each other.”

  “You’re reading too much into it,” said Pandora, blushing. “We’re just friends — really.”

  “If you’re just friends, then maybe you two should come to the speed dating event and prove it,” said Holly.

  “Challenge accepted,” said Pandora. “Now, how exactly do you envision this event playing out?”

  “I don’t know yet,” said Holly. “Mind brainstorming with me?”

  “Of course not,” said Pandora. “Jack’s got the snow to occupy him and keep him out of trouble. Let’s put together the best Christmas singles’ event The Wreath has ever seen!”

  Chapter Six

  December 15th, 2012

  “Still don’t get why you don’t talk to Avery about it,” said Rowan, slapping his ax down on the log before wiping his brow. “You’d be surprised what a little communication can do.”

  “Says the man whose supposed ‘fated mate’ won’t even listen to a word he has to say,” said Krampus.

  “Maybe she would if I was allowed to stay at the bakery for more than the two minute it takes for us to tie up the boat, go to the back patio, enter the bakery, grab the pastries and coffee from the counter, and do it all in reverse,” said Rowan, smashing his axe down and splitting another log.

  A drip of sweat moved from its crevice behind his ear to his neck, drawing a line down to the mark on Rowan’s chest, a mark that still read, in blood crimson letters, ‘Naughty.’

  Except it didn’t.

  That was the problem, the sick joke the universe had played on Rowan.

  The mark was now emerald green and read, ‘Nice.’

  Rowan knew what would’ve been frikkin’ ‘Nice’ — if the mark had changed earlier and he’d gotten off of The Naughty List before he’d gone down into that basement with Holly.

  Instead, it had shown up a full day later.

  Maybe you should take this as a sign, said Cupid.

  Or maybe, I can admit the truth to myself — that sometimes, true love is just a fairy tale, and that Christmas magic might be real, but it sure as shit doesn’t feel magical, said Rowan. If there was one perk to being on The Nice List, it was that he could curse again without the mark burning. Every time he’d sworn before, his mark had burned. There were only so many times a man could say ‘candy canes’ instead of ‘fucking bullshit’ without losing his mind,.

  But right now, losing his mind wasn’t his problem.

  No.

  The problem was, he’d broken something, not lost it — his heart, and Holly’s. They hadn’t talked much since that day, but he saw the same pain in her eyes that he saw reflected back to him in the cloudy bathroom mirror each night as he flossed his teeth with mint floss that didn’t taste anywhere as magical as Christmas candy canes had once seemed to Rowan.

  Rowan brought the ax down on the log and cut it unevenly.

  “Focus less on the girl and more on getting off The Naughty List,” said Krampus.

  “I’m already off of The Naughty List,” said Rowan.

  “Sorry — it’s just not normal for someone in your position to get off of The Naughty List so quickly,” said Krampus with a shrug. “Guess now, the only things you have to do are participate in The Ride, and, of course, claim your fated mate…if you want to keep your bear shift.”

  “Well, I already tried the claiming thing,” said Rowan.

  “Ah, but you rushed things, the way you’re rushing this,” said Krampus, motioning at Rowan and the log chopping stump. “If you want to get Holly back, maybe you need to take things…slower.”

  “You don’t have to remind me,”
said Rowan. “I learned my lesson about rushing things. If I hadn’t rushed things, I’d still be with Holly, doing whatever we were doing, and…I wouldn’t have blown what was probably my only chance to claim my fated mate.” Rowan brought the ax down again, splintering the log in front of him. He sliced the log sloppily, at an angle, leaving jagged edges all the way.

  “Again,” ordered Krampus, waving his hand. The log knit itself back together and rebalanced itself on the chopping stump. Rowan chopped the wood again. Krampus clapped sarcastically and, with one motion of his hand, lifted up a log from the log pile, placed it on the chopping stump, and whisked the cut logs into a pile, where they were neatly organized into an effigy that looked a lot like a goat.

  “I can’t believe that the thing with the kangaroo and the fight didn’t even get me off The Naughty List until the day after,” said Rowan, bringing the ax down again.

  “Doing a single Nice deed, especially one so basic, was not be enough to get you off of The Naughty List,” said Krampus. “You got off of The List because multiple people were affected by your deed to a degree that the magic that runs the list found you worthy to move from The Naughty List to The Nice List. I shouldn’t even be telling you this, but…there’s really only one guaranteed way to get off of The Naughty List at once. It’s one way that works without fail…and it doesn’t require making that many people happy.”

  “What is it?” asked Rowan. “Don’t see why you’d keep it secret, given I’m already off the list.”

  “First of all, I don’t want you spoiling anything for any future bad boys from your Clan. Number two, I just said, I shouldn’t be telling you, so I won’t be telling you,” said Krampus. “Do try and keep up.”

  Krampus’s phone rang.

  “Keep chopping,” ordered Krampus, answering the phone. He sat down on his big, thick tufted armchair, on the wooden platform deck he used to observe the lumberjack training. Krampus rotated his hand distractedly as he talked on the phone.