Stars, Snow and Mistletoe: A Holiday Naughty List Collection

by S. J. Sanders

  “As you are one with fire,” said Nor’Ak, taking a step towards Ignis, “we are one with the snow. The ice.”

  “So, when our fires melted your snow . . .?” said one of the other demons.

  “I had to see what was killing us,” said Nor’Ak, his mighty head nodding in affirmation. “But we do not want to hurt any of you. Especially not the females.”

  “Why ‘especially not the females’?” asked Clea, her nostrils flared. She’d gone from nurturing mother to fierce warrior in an instant.

  Nor’Ak hoped the woman with hair as pale as snow was just as powerful. Just as savage.

  “The Elots you see before you are half of our remaining brothers,” said Nor’Ak, the admission making him both nervous and sorrowful. “No women remain to us. A disease came many winters ago, taking with it only the females of our kind.”

  The women all seemed to take in a sharp breath as one.

  Clea gave Ignis a knowing look. “Slep.”

  Nor’Ak frowned. “I do not know this word.”

  “You wouldn’t,” said Ignis as he lifted his arm to point at the black shape resting heavily in the snow. “You don’t have one of those.”

  “A great beast?” asked Ib’at, one of Nor’Ak’s brothers.

  “No,” said the Commander with a small smile. “A spaceship.”

  4

  Clea

  The large white creature with shimmering horns and translucent fangs was astounded to learn that men could travel the stars. Clea watched as he and Ignis discussed the concepts of planets and how they looked like stars from the surface of whatever world upon which you happened to stand.

  Ignis pointed at a fat, red star in the sky. “That is our planet. Arda.”

  The creature frowned, and his brethren snapped their savage-looking teeth.

  “No,” said the creature. “That is one of our mother stars. Our goddess, though she wears the name of Arda as you claim.”

  Ignis frowned and cast his eyes to Clea. She shrugged. Until she and the others were abducted from Earth all those many, many months ago, she had no damn clue there was life on any other planet in the universe except for theirs. She was the last person her mate should turn to when trying to explain such things to these beast-men.

  Ignis shifted his arm, pointing at the black and orange star near Arda. “What do your kind call that one there, to the right?”

  “That is Arda’s sister, the goddess Smold,” said another creature as he strode to stand by the first. The two shared similar traits—sabreteeth and crystalline claws, and thick, white hide—but where the creature who had been talking to Ignis all this while had a thick white mane of hair trailing down his back, the second’s mane was a dark and flowing.

  Black ice, thought Clea as she scrutinized the pair. But her gaze soon locked with Ignis’s, and she knew what was weighing on her mate’s mind: the Ardans and Smolds hadn’t had contact with this planet in eons, and yet their kind remembered Ignis’s kind. Revered them, even, making the Ardan’s planet the manifestation of their goddess. And she knew by the look in Ignis’s eyes that the revelation was a new one to him.

  “This is Ib’at,” said the first creature, gesturing to the newcomer with one of his curving claws. Then he beat his thick fist against his chest. “I am called Nor’Ak, leader of the Elots.”

  To Clea’s surprise, Ignis smiled and extended his hand. “I am Ignis, Commander of the Arda.”

  Nor’Ak narrowed his pale white eyes and bent low, his mighty nostrils flaring wide to sniff at Ignis’s hand. Once he was satisfied, he clasped it, his monstrous palm engulfing Ignis’s.

  The two leaders shook hands then went around, introducing each man of their own species. Once they were done, Clea spoke up.

  She shifted Kyus against her chest and stuck her own hand out to Nor’Ak. “I am Clea. I don’t lead the Earth women, but don’t think they will mind if I introduce them now. Do you ladies?”

  The women were all huddled together, shivering in their Ardan clothes. Clea frowned at the sight. They would all get sick as dogs if they didn’t warm up soon. Better make this quick.

  “This,” she said, preparing to point at each of the women in turn, “is Eliza, Sarah, Miranda, Mei, Clara, Julianne, Elisabet, Veronica, Marisol, and Lila.”

  The women each inclined their heads or waved a hand, their fingers pale and shaking.

  Nor’Ak paid rapt attention as Clea introduced the women to him, but when he got to Lila, he took a ragged breath.

  “Lila,” he said, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. The ice blue phallus hanging between his legs began to stiffen and rise, going erect as his eyes raked over Lila’s body.

  To Clea’s surprise, Lila wasn’t afraid or even offended. Instead, she licked her lips seductively and said, “Hello.”

  Nor’Ak grunted, the translucent horns on his head lengthening the more his cock stiffened.

  Clea looked away. That was . . . well, it was something she didn’t want to see. Whatever was passing between the Elot and Lila, it was obvious that it should be private.

  She turned back to Ignis. “Is everything okay here? Can we go back inside?”

  Nor’Ak, Ib’at, and the other Elots gave a soft wail in unison.

  “Do not leave!” cried Ib’at.

  “We want the females to stay,” said an Elot in the far shadows.

  Clea shivered. With the strange cerulean sun gone from the sky, the already frigid air was now unbearable. She looked down at Kyus, pleased to see that he was resting peacefully in her arms, his small half-Ardan body generating a wealth of heat.

  “We are not going to leave your planet,” said Ignis. “We just need to g—”

  “T’lugot,” said Nor’Ak, his eyes now back on Lila. “You are not going to leave T’lugot. That is what we call our . . . planet.”

  The Elot said the word as if he were trying it on like a new piece of clothing, or a shoe that was two sizes too small—Uncomfortably.

  “We are not going to leave T’lugot,” said Ignis. “But the Earth women are cold.”

  “Cold,” said Ib’at, as if the concept were foreign to him.

  “Yes,” said Clea, ushering the women back to the spaceship. They scurried forward, their pale lips curling down to hide their chattering teeth. “If our kind get too cold, we will die.”

  The Elots cried out, each rushing forward to wrap their mighty arms around a woman. The women shrieked as the creatures embraced them and lifted them into the air, but no one protested. Clea knew their legs were probably chilled to the bone and weary.

  “We have you,” said Bre’ol, a shorter Elot whose horns were a dark and shimmering blue.

  “You shall not perish,” said the one Nor’Ak had introduced as Gi’ral, a creature encased in muscle and sporting scars across his chest.

  Nor’Ak scooped up Lila, holding her close to his chest as he ran. Clea didn’t catch what he said to her, but judging by the way Lila burrowed her head into the creature’s chest, the other woman was fine with it.

  “Let’s get you inside, too,” said Ignis, guiding Clea toward the ship by her elbow.

  She was grateful for his presence, for her own legs felt weak. Her toes were numb, and it occurred to her then that living on this strange new world would have its own set of concerns. Its own set of dangers. But if the Elots would have them, and if Ignis decided this place was safe enough for her and Kyus and the rest, Clea would take it. Dangers and all.

  Once they were all safely deposited inside the bay, the Elots went to depart.

  “But we will be back,” said Nor’Ak, his eyes once more transfixed on Lila. “Soon. We will go and get gifts for our women.”

  Lila and the others shared a worried glance, but it was obvious they were all too afraid to speak.

  Clea stepped forward, her eyes assessing Nor’Ak’s white body in the darkness outside the bay door.

  “If we choose to stay here, on your planet, we will not give our bodies to you. Not all of us
, at least,” she said, looking back at Lila. The woman blushed and looked down at her toes. Clea turned back to Nor’Ak. “I need to know that you will not take advantage of us, once the Ardan’s depart.”

  The Elots each sank to a knee in the snow. To Clea’s horror, as one, they lifted a claw from their right hand and sliced open their own wrists. As their silver blood fell to the snow, they spoke an oath, one which made the hairs on her arm rise.

  “As the stars bind the heavens, so too do our words bind us. As our blood enriches the land, so too do our words enrich our bond. May it be so, or may the ground beneath our feet revolt and cast us into chaos.”

  The Elots bent down then, their long, pale blue tongues snaking out to lap at silver blood still dripping from their flesh.

  “It is done,” said Ib’at.

  “It is sealed,” said Bre’ol.

  “Our word is our bond,” said Gi’ral.

  “We are bound,” the Elots chanted as one.

  “We are bound,” echoed Nor’Ak. “We will not hurt the women before us in any way, lest the snows which give us form dissolve and leave this land for all times, taking winter and our kind with it.”

  Ignis and Clea shared a look. Ignis gave a small shrug, and Clea turned back to the creatures.

  “Very well,” she said slowly. “When are you planning on returning?”

  “As soon as we can get to our abodes and return,” said Nor’Ak. “We have gifts.”

  “Gifts?” asked Ignis, his tone conveying the shock and doubt in Clea’s own mind.

  Nor’Ak smiled, his thin lips stretching past the wide fangs jutting out of his mouth. “For the women.”

  With that, a stiff wind struck up, blowing flurries of snow into the bay.

  Clea and the rest shielded their eyes from the blast. When the wind died and they looked out again, the Elots were gone.

  5

  Ignis

  “Close the bay door,” Ignis commanded to his generals. The men hurried to follow his orders, in part because they were good soldiers and in part because the cold was eating away at them as badly as it was him.

  Once the door was sealed, he took a step back, eyeing Clea and the other women carefully. “You all need to be warmed.”

  “Badly,” said Mei, a woman with slanted eyes and an easy smile. She flashed it now at Lucius, and Ignis was pleased to see the man return the smile.

  Clea had asked me to send an Earth woman with each general as they went to find allies for what is to come, thought Ignis as he watched Lucius head over to Mei, his hands already wrapping around hers. He grinned at the sight, but then his thoughts turned dark. If what Dredge told us was true…

  The Glim, a being made of shimmering lights and one of the other patrons at the Hub, had claimed to know the force that had attacked the Hub, endangering everyone’s lives—a fact he only divulged to Ignis once the Earth women were safely out of hearing range. The enemy they now had to face was much, much more powerful than the insectoid Slep and the entire company of Galactic Continuity. He hoped his generals would be able to find allies in time.

  Another reason to keep Clea as far away from Arda as I can, he thought bitterly as he kissed the crown of the woman’s head. It would tear his soul to pieces to be away from her and their son for so long, but it was worth it if it kept Clea and the boy safe.

  As the generals walked around the room, using a muted form of their flames to warm up all the Earth women, Clea handed Kyus to Ignis.

  “Where are you going?” he asked, his arms wrapping protectively around the babe who still slumbered peacefully.

  “Food will warm us up faster than aliens with fire hands,” said Clea, a small smile playing at the edges of her mouth. But then the smile was gone and so was she, disappearing through an entrance that led to the back of the ship where they stored provisions.

  Ignis felt guilty that she had never taken to the hot realm of Arda . . . hadn’t liked the spiced and fiery foods grown in their fields. He saw the way her roundness had worn away, her body narrowing and growing more angular. Sharper.

  Perhaps the foods of this planet will do better by her stomach, though Ignis as the woman returned, her arms full of loaves of black bread. Dangling in her left hand was a back of dried aurochs’ meat, a food Clea teasingly called ‘bull jerky.’ At least she finds that palatable.

  Sure enough, Clea distributed all the bread to the other women, saving none for herself. Then, she passed out the dried meat, taking for herself the smallest piece.

  Ignis strode up to her, his brows furrowed. “You have to eat, too, dearest.”

  Clea nibbled on the end of the meat, her teeth pulling at the tough fibers slowly. She shrugged, her eyes dancing merrily. “I have you to warm my bed at night. What need have I for a full belly?”

  Ignis frowned. He was rarely stern with her, but this was going to have to be one of those times.

  “You have to eat more than this, Clea. You need food. How else are you going to nourish Kyus? To be strong enough to protect him, should the need arise?”

  Clea turned her head, glaring at Ignis from the corner of her eye. “I’m plenty strong enough.”

  He smiled at her. “For now, my love. But what about later, after you have spent countless rotations on this planet? Your body will need fuel. Feed it.”

  A loud banging came from the other side of the bay door, making the Earth women flinch.

  “It is probably only the Elots,” said Ignis, handing Kyus back to Clea. He turned to Lucius. “But just in case . . .?”

  “Aye, Commander,” said Lucius, stepping away from Mei. He held up his device and scanned past the bay door. “Elots.”

  Ignis nodded. “Very good. Open the door, then.”

  Once the bay door was wide again, all was energy and joy.

  The Elots had bought with them big, thick furs bundled on the back of a creature they called a bhugt. Ib’at began dispensing them to the other Elots, who in turn lumbered into the bay and handed them to the Earth women.

  “For the females,” said Nor’Ak as he handed a fur to Clea. She took the thick thing, black as soot and patterned with pale cream spots, and wrapped it grateful around her back. Her fingers shaking, she wrapped the ends around Kyus.

  Ignis frowned, his eyes scanning the room. Even on the ship, the women are freezing.

  “We need to close the bay door once more,” he said to Nor’Ak and the others regretfully.

  “No,” said the leader of the Elots, his fanged mouth widening into a smile. “We have an idea.”

  Ignis looked at the creature, his doubt evident on his face.

  “It involves your fire,” said Nor’Ak.

  Ignis nodded appreciatively. “What is it?”

  “Your flames,” said Ib’at, taking over for Nor’Ak as he went to hand Lila a fur. “They hurt us if we are close to them, but not as badly as the pain we feel when the snows melt.”

  “You can feel the snow melt?” asked Lila, her wide eyes staring up at Nor’Ak.

  “Each perfect crystal, my beauty,” said Nor’Ak softly as he tucked the fur around Lila.

  Ignis lifted his hand to mask his smile. He had no doubt some of the Earth women would enjoy becoming mates to the Elots.

  “But if there was a way for you to keep your flames away from the snow, while still heating the females . . .” continued Ib’at, his voice becoming deeper the more animated he became. “We could celebrate under the stars, as it should be.”

  “As it should be,” said Lila softly, her head peaking over the furs.

  Quintus moved to stand before Ib’at, taking care of the details of the Elot’s plan while Ignis moved around the room to ensure each of the Earth women was taken care of. A pointless act, he supposed, considering how eager the Elots were to ensure the women were warm and comfortable.

  Once Ib’at and Quintus had finalized their plan, the two struck out into the darkness. Ib’at began chanting, and at his word, blocks of ice began to form, tearing through t
he ground much like the wall of snow Nor’Ak had conjured up when he sought to duel with Ignis.

  When the blocks of ice reached the height of two men, Quintus called forth his flames, sending little bursts to dance in the air at varying intervals, none close to the ground or the walls of ice.

  Ib’at gestured at the structure with a dramatic flourish, but Ignis was still doubtful.

  “What is the purpose of this?” he asked, stepping into the snow to look at what the Elot and his general had made. The walls were high, yes, but one side of the massive square—the side facing the spaceship—was still open. And there was no roof to the structure at all. Plenty of cold air will still assault the place.

  Quintus stood in the center of the strange, open-faced room, the light from the flames floating in the air casting shadows onto this face. He pointed at his lips and exhaled loudly.

  As the last bit of his breath left his chest, Quintus drew in another sharp breath and smiled. “What do you think?”

  “I think you are suffering from some illness of the mind,” said Ignis as he rubbed at his arms.

  “Come, Commander,” said Quintus, his cheeks turning crimson. “Come closer and see.”

  Grumbling, Ignis stepped out of the ship and into the snow, stopping just outside the structure.

  “Do you see it now, sir?” asked Quintus, his smile now wider.

  Ignis was tiring of this foolishness. “See what, man?! Out with it!”

  Quintus pointed at his mouth as he spoke. “No fog, Commander.”

  Ignis was taken aback. It was as Quintus said, though he hadn’t realized it until the man put it in simple terms. He laughed, his own breath sending a cloud creeping into the frigid night air. “Well, good gods! How is the temperature in that thing?”

  Quintus held his arms wide. “It’s not Arda, sir, but it’s a hell of a lot better than it was!”

  Ignis stepped forward, surprised at the way the air changed instantly. He turned back to Clea, beckoning her and the other Earth women forward.

  Soon, they were all standing in the structure—Earth women, Ardans, and Elots alike—and there was still ample space.