by Devon Monk
A pause ticked by.
“I miss him,” Ryder said. Still a little slurred, still a little slow. “Your dad.”
“I do too. But when he told me that, it didn’t make me feel better. I was still sad for the little star.”
“Such a softy. How did you end up a cop?”
I laughed. “A lot of hard work. Dad knew I was still sad. I could never hide that from him, either. So you know what happened?”
“Mmmm?”
“I woke up on Christmas morning and the living room was filled with stars. Paper stars hung from the ceiling, from the windows, from the branches of the Christmas tree.” I swallowed a smile remembering.
“He’d cut a hundred paper stars out of gold, silver, white, and blue. Must have taken him hours to hang them all. Written on every single one of them was one word: love.”
I was quiet while I tried to corral the emotions that came along with the memory. I hadn’t thought about that Christmas morning in years.
“He told me the stars had come down from the heavens to visit the Christmas tree star so it wouldn’t be lonely. He told me it was a Christmas wish come true.”
“Delaney,” he said, as if just talking was taking every ounce of energy he had. Or maybe the story had touched him, a little bit of my remembered joy and sorrow now his.
“I need to say something. I should have said it a long time ago. Thought I’d have time. Thought we’d have time…”
“Don’t,” I interrupted, afraid that if he said something, if he said he loved me, he’d really be saying good-bye.
“Just save whatever you have to say for when you come home. Because you promised you’d come home, Ryder.”
“Laney…I’m sorry.”
Chapter Six
“You promised.” I wiped at my stinging eyes and straightened my shoulders.
I was not going to lose him before Christmas. I was not going to lose him at all.
“Delaney?” Jean said. “Myra should be there in a minute.”
As if summoned by her voice, there was a knock at the door. Myra must have been close by.
I jogged over, glanced through the peep hole, then let Myra and the demon who stood beside her into the house.
“Bathin is going to find him and bring him back,” Myra said before I’d even shut the door.
“This is news to Bathin,” he said. “We do remember Bathin is a demon and doesn’t like to do helpful things?”
Myra’s eyes went hard and glittery while her eyebrows lowered. “We know Bathin will do this because it’s an order and requirement if he wants to remain in Ordinary.”
“As if you would let me leave, Myra Reed. I own your pretty sister’s very pretty soul.”
Yeah, like I said, sometimes the supernaturals named a high price for a favor. I still hadn’t found a way to get my soul back, though I was working on it, and so was Myra.
“Don’t care,” I cut in.
“Ryder is injured, in his truck, somewhere near Three Fingered Jack. The highway’s blocked, and Jean hasn’t had any luck getting hold of search and rescue. Name a price, Bathin. Let’s get this rolling.”
Finding people and moving them was one of Bathin’s powers. He’d already rescued a kidnapped vampire who’d been sunk beneath the ocean in a crate.
Finding a truck in a snow storm shouldn’t be nearly as difficult.
“What will you give me if I do this little favor?” he asked.
“No,” Myra said.
“A favor in return,” I offered.
“No,” Myra said again.
The corner of Bathin’s mouth slid up into a sexy grin. “Choices, choices ladies. Yes or no?”
“One favor,” I said again, “from me, to be collected within one year’s time. It can be anything you want, as long as it doesn’t break any of Ordinary’s laws, nor go against my own moral code.”
“Anything I want?” His grin turned a little predatory.
I had to wonder how I always ended up bargaining away parts of myself for the good of others. I’d like to say it came with the job of being Chief of Police in this oddball little town, but I knew better.
I would bargain away almost anything for Ryder.
“Don’t.” Ryder’s voice was distant, but still clear. I pressed the phone harder against my ear.
“It’s okay,” I said. “Myra’s here. She won’t let me break the don’t-do-anything-stupid rule.”
“Bargaining with a demon is the reason we made the rule,” he reminded me.
The last few words faded a bit, as if he was having trouble getting enough breath in his lungs to speak. “It’s stupid.”
“I know. But it’s going to be okay. You just stay awake and keep breathing. You’re going to be home soon.”
“I’ll do it,” Myra said. “For you.”
Bathin straightened as if everything in him was suddenly awake and laser focused. Then he turned, all fire and heat and wide shoulders and muscular body crowding into her space.
“You’ll do what, exactly? For me.” His voice was more rumble than words.
For a moment, Myra’s eyes lost that edge and something else filled them. Desire? Lust? Surprise?
The look he was giving her should have had a combustible warning on it.
“For Delaney,” Myra said all soft and breathy. “Not you.”
He smiled, lifted one hand as if to touch her face, as if to stroke her skin.
And never got the chance. Myra took one strong step back, her cheeks flushing red, her eyes cool and hard again.
Her breathing was a little faster than a moment ago, but that could just be adrenaline from anger.
It wasn’t adrenaline from anger.
“I’ll offer the same terms as Delaney,” she said.
“One favor, to be collected within the year. I’ll do what you want as long as it doesn’t break any of Ordinary’s rules or laws, nor go against my moral code or free will.”
“You added a few terms.”
“I don’t give anything away easily.”
His eyebrow quirked. “I know.”
Pretty sure he liked that about her. A lot.
“One favor, due to me, upon my request, in so much as it doesn’t break Ordinary’s rules or laws, nor go against your moral code or free will. Correct?”
“Wait,” I said.
She nodded, the color still high on her cheeks as she stared up at him.
“Yes.” She squared her shoulders as if steeling herself against the pull of his charisma.
“In exchange, you will find Ryder now, and bring him here, to us in this room, whole in body and mind, and in no way bound to you nor any other creature, person, or thing.”
“Wait,” I said again.
“Done.” And then Bathin was gone.
“You did not just bargain with that demon,” I nearly shouted.
She shrugged like it was nothing. It wasn’t nothing. “One of us was going to.”
“Not one of us, me.”
“You already gave up your soul. It was my turn to do something. You aren’t the only one looking after this town, you know. And all I traded was a small favor.”
I glared at her for a minute, but it was like trying to stare down a brick wall.
“Ryder,” I said while I scowled at my sister. “Bathin’s coming to get you and bring you home.”
I waited. There was no answer, not even the ragged breathing I’d gotten used to.
“Ryder?”
I heard the truck door open, and a small groan that was almost a whimper. Then the shushing static of the phone being moved.
“I’ve found your nearly frozen Prince Charming,” Bathin said.
“Is he breathing?”
A pause, then, “So far.”
“Bring him to me.”
“Oh, I will. Eventually.”
The phone disconnected. “Eventually? What kind of crap is eventually?” I yelled.
Myra rubbed at her forehead. “I didn’t narrow the
time specifications. I should have thought of that.”
“No, you shouldn’t have promised him a favor, Myra. What were you thinking?”
“That you aren’t supposed to make any more deals with demons.”
“And you are?”
“This time? Yes. Ryder needs you. I didn’t know if Bathin was going to demand an immediate favor just to take you away when Ryder needs you.”
Oh. I hadn’t thought of that. “We seriously need to find someone else in town who can teleport,” I muttered. “Maybe for the price of donuts. Demons are too complicated.”
“Who can we call?” she asked.
I pushed my fingers back through my hair, thinking. My gaze landed on the pig. Crow said Bathin couldn’t hide from it. Did that mean the pig could find the demon?
“Dragon?” I really needed to find out if it had a name. “Do you know where the demon is?”
The pig lifted its head from where it was propped on Spud’s back.
“Demon?” I repeated. “Bathin? He was just here. We told him to go find Ryder?”
“I don’t think it understands you,” Myra said.
“Dragons understand human speech.” I said. “He’s called Black Heart?” I tried.
The pig jumped to its feet and trotted over to me. It sat in front of me, head tipped up.
And while it was still cute, there was fire in those piggy eyes, and smoke in that piggy snout. The space around it had gone wobbly like a fun house mirror.
“Find Black Heart and the man with him. The man is Ryder Bailey. Bring them here. Now.”
The pig stood. For a moment, just the flash of a splintered second, there was a dragon in my living room. It was huge and black with wings of fire and claws of steel. And then it disappeared.
The scent of burned coal and sandalwood filled the air.
“Wow,” Myra said. “You have a dragon.”
I exhaled a shaky breath. “I really need to read up on the care and feeding.”
Spud hadn’t missed out on the commotion. He was on his feet and at my side, stiff-eared, stiff-tailed, staring into the space the dragon had just vacated.
He growled, then barked.
The room went wobbly again, and I reached over for Myra at the same time she reached for me.
The pig appeared. It snorted out a satisfied plume of smoke that curled around its head and then drifted toward the ceiling.
Next to the pig, stood Bathin. Bathin did not look happy. As a matter of fact, he looked a little shaken.
I did not care. Because Bathin had his shoulder propped under Ryder’s arm, his hand holding him firmly around the waist.
“You sent the dragon after me?” Bathin asked. “The dragon? Do you know how much noise it makes in the…you know what? Never mind. If you ever do that again, Delaney Reed, I will make you pay.”
“I’ve already paid. Myra’s paid too. Hold up your end of the bargain next time, Bathin.”
I wasn’t listening to his threats anyway.
Ryder was unconscious. “Bring him to the bedroom.” I rushed over and touched Ryder’s face. Cold. Touched his neck, pressed for a pulse.
There. Strong and steady. Some of the fear in my stomach unclenched. I could breathe again, could think again. “Move it, Bathin. Now. That way.”
Bathin rolled his eyes but didn’t argue.
In the distance I was aware of Myra talking to Jean, was aware of Spud barking like crazy and rubbing on the dragon while the dragon stared at the demon like he was something it would enjoy eating.
In the distance I could hear someone singing about silver bells. But everything in me was tuned into Ryder, all my senses, all my focus.
He was alive.
Unconscious. Blood, sticky and thick, streaked from the hairline above his left eyebrow down his cheek.
He was bundled in snow gear: heavy coat and gloves, layered shirts beneath, snow pants and heavy boots.
His clothes were damp, either from when he’d been lying out in the snow when we were on the phone, or maybe before that, when he helped the mom and kids.
Bathin laid him on the bed, gently enough it surprised me.
“He’s too cold,” the demon said almost as if he were talking to himself. “Has a lump on the side of his head, but that wound’s not serious. Get him warm and he’ll be fine.”
“You get a medical certificate from Hells R Us?” I pushed at his shoulder so I could move around him and get in the bed to take care of Ryder. It was like pushing a steel building. He was built like a concrete mixer.
He’d once told me he could take any form he wanted. It only made sense he’d chosen more muscles than a barbarian under that white button-down shirt.
“I’ve seen a lot of people on death’s doorstep,” he said. “I do my best wheeling and dealing in their time of desperation and need. When they have nothing left to lose.”
He stood back, crossed his arms over his chest. “He’s not going to die.”
I was listening, but working fast to get Ryder’s boots unlaced, pulled off. His socks were dry–that was good. I took them off anyway, then his snow pants and the thermals he wore beneath them.
I rubbed my palms over his thighs, warm, muscular and strong with a long bruise spreading down his left hip. Then I stroked down his legs to his thick, firm calves, ankles, and checked his toes, cupping my hands over them briefly.
No frostbite. No breaks. No wounds.
He started shivering, which was a good sign. I dragged all the blankets and the down comforter over him, then scrambled off the bed to dig out two more blankets from the top shelf of his closet.
Myra was suddenly next to the bed, a warm washcloth in her hand and a First Aid kit open on the bedside table.
She gave me the cloth and I cleaned the blood off his face, felt for the bump Bathin had told me about. Left side, but the bleeding had stopped.
Taking off his coat and shirts revealed more of his skin, and it took everything I had not to just strip and curl up beside him.
I wanted to be close to his heartbeat, drown in the scent of him, be captured in his heat.
I wanted to touch him, wrap around him, make him understand he was undeniably mine.
I settled for a single kiss on his non-bruised shoulder before I covered him back up.
His left side had taken most of the impact of whatever had happened to send him off the road. His head, shoulder, ribs, and hip were all black and blue.
He stirred at my touch and made a small sound at the back of his throat like he was having a good dream.
“You’re home,” I told him. “You’re safe. You made it before Christmas. You didn’t break your promise.”
His eyes fluttered, finally opened a slit. “Delaney?”
“I’m right here. You’re home. You can sleep. You can sleep now.”
He shivered a little harder.
“You should get into bed with him,” Myra said.
I jumped. I had forgotten she was still in the room with us.
“Do you think he needs a doctor?” I pulled the covers away and slipped beneath, immediately curling up on his right side.
His arm drifted down to hold me close.
“No,” Ryder whispered.
“You don’t get a vote, baby.” I leaned my face into his chest, wrapped my arm over him, then tangled our legs up together.
He made another happy sound.
“I think he’s okay,” Myra said. “I’ll stay here tonight and come in and check on you both a couple times, okay?”
I nodded. She must have seen it because she cleaned up a few things–probably the clothes I’d thrown on the floor–then left the room.
I didn’t know if Bathin stayed too, but I knew Myra would handle him with the same calm she handled everything else.
Plus, we had a dragon on our side.
I pressed myself across as much of Ryder as I could reach.
I’d almost lost him.
He’d almost said good-bye.
; What would I have done without him?
“I love you, Ryder,” I whispered. “I think I always have. I know I do now. And I’ll say it every day, no matter what happens. I love you. I love you.”
I felt the bed shake as Spud jumped up to join us. He crawled up to carefully nose at our faces, then, satisfied, settled down behind Ryder’s legs.
The bed took another dip.
“Oink.”
“He’s hurt. You need to get off the bed.”
“Oink oink.”
“Did you just tell me no?”
“Oink.”
I scowled, but the dragon-pig turned a quick circle then curled up on Ryder’s bad side, rooting at the covers until half his head was hidden by the folds of the blankets.
Ryder shivered, then sighed. And I knew why. I could feel the heat radiating off the little dragon from here. It was like sitting next to a fire. Warm and relaxing.
Ryder’s breathing evened out, deep and slow, and his muscles all softened and became heavy.
I listened to his heart beat, listened to winter chewing away outside our cozy warm bedroom, listened to the dragon and the dog breathing, and fell asleep with them all.
Chapter Seven
Myra woke me up before she left. It wasn’t even light out yet.
“I’ll take your shift this morning. You stay with Ryder.”
I blinked until my vision cleared. Ryder had shifted in the night and was now curled around both the dragon and the dog, his back to me.
They were all snoring.
I smiled. I so needed a picture of that so I could blackmail him with it later.
“See you tonight.” Myra started toward the bedroom door.
“Wait, Mymy.” I slipped out of bed and stopped outside in the hall with her. “You go home. I’m going to take my shift.”
“You need to stay here.”
“He’s sleeping. I’ll call someone to keep an eye on him while I’m out. It’s your day off.”
I always worked Christmas Eve.
