My words break off as realization hits.
In this world, Mr. Zee is alive because I brought Fern to Hermes, like the dutiful dog that I am. This world is possible because all of Fern’s healing powers went into resurrecting Zeus, leaving nothing for Tim, and bringing the wrath of the king of the gods onto my friends.
My friends.
I always insisted that Edie was a traitor, and Mavis a backstabber. That the two of them were the worst examples of what can happen when loyalty and obedience aren’t priorities. But if I do what I’m supposed to, what I’ve been paid to do, then I’ll be the most treasonous one of them all.
“I’ll change!” I yell at Edie, but her wings spring out, wide and alarmed as she advances on me, fire in her eyes and beginning to gather around her dragon teeth.
“I won’t do it!” I say, backpedaling. “I won’t bring Fern to Hermes! I won’t betray my friends and leave the world to die!”
But Edie is still advancing and I fall backwards, into the mouth of an open grave. Dirt rains down on me, and I have only the merest second to look upward and see the name on the tombstone, brightly lit by Edie’s fire.
Nico Tralano
“I’ll change! I swear!” I yell, but it’s too late.
I’m still screaming as dirt fills my mouth.
8
I wake coughing, clawing at my blankets before I realize I’m not in my grave, but in my bed. I lay back on sweat-stained sheets.
What was that? An ambrosia-fueled delusion?
No, even I can’t rationalize what I saw. It was real.
I jump up and get dressed, grab a duffel bag of cash and head out the door. An hour later I’m standing in front of the mausoleum...unable to push open the door. I’ve faced gods and monsters and death itself.
Somehow this is harder.
“Um...bro...why are you creeping out here?” a familiar voice says.
I turn to find Jordan and Hepa behind me. They must not have been able to make the celebration last night, but came for Christmas morning.
“Are you here to start a fight?” Hepa asks. “Because there are a lot of badasses in there. I don’t think you can take them all.”
“No, I don’t want to fight. I brought…” I take a deep breath. “I brought pastry.”
“Um. Okay.” Hepa looks doubtful but Jordan looks super stoked.
“Are those chocolate croissants?!” He pats me on the back. “Bring those bad boys in, man!”
They usher me inside and there’s a moment of greeting before the silence hits me like a wall.
“So, yeah, Nico’s here and he brought breakfast,” Jordan says.
“Who invited you?” Val asks coldly.
“I did, actually.” Chester steps forward.
“You better not start anything,” Marguerite hisses, exposing her teeth.
“Let’s just hear what he has to say,” Cassie tells them.
“Look,” I plop the duffel on the ground, plus a few more bags I picked up along the way. “I brought food and presents.”
“Were you visited by the body snatchers?” Mavis asks, unbelieving.
“No. He’s messing with us,” Greg says. He looks around. “He’s totally messing with us, right?”
“No. I am serious as an apocalypse. Here, Chandra, this is for you…” I kick the bag of money toward her.
“And what do you think I’m gonna do for that?!” she asks shaking her head.
“Nothing!” I shout. Why don’t they get it? “That’s for you and your little chick. I know Tim is sick.”
“How do you know that?” she asks, confused. “Or his name? Or anything about me? Are you stalking me?!”
“It wouldn’t be out of character,” Edie says.
“Look, guys, I know this is out of the blue, but I had a change of heart. I saw what my path toward the future looks like and it is bleak. Like, Mad Max bleak.”
“Nice!” Jordan says and holds up his hand for a high five. When I return it he looks stunned.
How can I make them understand? “Hermes paid me big bucks to come kidnap Fern.”
Marguerite hisses again and Fern says, “Oh, that’s why you’re here.”
“But I’m not going to do it,” I assure them. “I had a crazy, life-changing experience last night. I want to change. I want to fight the good fight. Wear the white hat.”
“Not murder innocent people for money?” Chester offers.
“Yes! Exactly.” I clap him on the back. “This guy gets it.”
“Well, excuse me if we don’t start singing kumbaya, but…” Hepa looks around. “You’re kind of a straight up psycho.”
I nod. “That’s fair, but all I want is a chance. Can you guys give me a chance?”
“I vote yes!” Chester, good old Chester, says.
“Me too,” Jordan says. When Hepa gives him a look he shrugs. “What? He brought pastry.”
“I think we should at least give it a try,” Fern says.
“Where goes Fern, so go I,” Marguerite says...though she does not look happy about it.
“I never wanted to hate you,” Greg says.
I look at Val, Edie, and Mavis. They’re the ones who will really decide. Mavis and Edie exchange a look.
“Do you really think you can get over all the bad blood? The unreturned affection? The...murder of your mother?” Mavis asks, every word dripping with suspicion.
I take a deep breath. “My mother was always on a path that would lead to her violent death. I want to change that.”
“I believe him,” Edie says.
“Yeah, and if he’s lying, you can always turn into a dragon and roast him,” Mavis says.
“Good point.” Val grins. “Let’s try to be friends with Nico, I guess.”
I howl and grab a Santa hat from one of the bags. I start passing out food and presents. Little Tim was hiding in the background but he comes toddling over for the big red fire truck I got him. It’s so big that he can shift into a little chick and ride around in it.
Cassie comes to my side. “I knew you’d come around,” she tells me with a wink.
After everyone is full and happy, Edie makes a point to speak with me.
“I’m glad you found your way,” she says.
“Me too,” I say shyly. “I think I’m really going to like all this ‘peace on earth’ and ‘good will towards man’ stuff.
“But...why did Hermes want Fern?”
“Oh, right.” I grin. “That reminds me…” I turn to the group as a whole. “My father’s family always roasted chestnuts over a huge fire on Christmas day. To honor that tradition, I brought some supplies so we can do the same today.” I hesitate as I take in their doubtful faces. “If you guys don’t mind walking a little bit…”
“I do like fire,” Edie says.
“And I do like being fireproof,” Val adds as he shares a special grin with Edie.
For once, it doesn’t bother me that much. I might even be a little bit happy for them. Weird.
“But wait,” Cassie says. “What about Greg? He can’t leave the mausoleum.”
Greg waves away her concern with a loud belch. “Actually, I overdid it on the Christmas feasting, so I’d like to indulge in a bat tradition of having a little post-meal snooze.”
“Maybe I’ll stay back with Tim,” Chandra says.
I grab little Tim and swing him up on my shoulders. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on him.” I lean in close to Chandra and add in a lower voice. “I promise, you’re going to love this.”
She smiles back at me in a way that’s definitely a little flirtatious. “Okay, wolf. Show me what you got.”
I grin back at her. Maddox would be livid if she knew I was scheming ways to get a cute little chicken shifter under some mistletoe before the night is over. But then again, Maddox is dead.
“Follow me and Tim,” I shout, swinging the mausoleum door open.
And amazingly, they do.
Okay, Marguerite does say, “If this is a trap
, I’m going to enjoy killing you, Nico.” But otherwise the mood is merry and bright.
Although, when we reach Hoo Hoos & Tatas, things momentarily sour.
“Gods damn it, Nico!” Mavis shouts.
But then I produce the Molotov cocktails I assembled that morning. When you want to show people you really care, something made with your own hands—and love—is always the best way to go.
I give the first one to Chandra, along with a wink, before passing the rest along. Edie, of course, turns hers down.
“I’ve got my own flame-thrower,” she reminds me. “But is there a reason you chose this spot beyond finding it gross and disgusting?”
“Yes, actually.” I give little Tim’s hand a pat where he tightly clutches my hair. “We’re doing this to destroy Zeus’ body, prevent his resurrection, and save the world.”
Edie goes white. “Zeus’ body?”
I nod.
Taking charge, Edie turns to the rest of her crew. “Let’s light this place up and make sure it burns until there’s nothing left.”
Shifting into a dragon, she takes to the air. We light up the Molotov cocktails as Val and Marguerite go inside to scare the customers away. They come running out the door moments later, with Hermes and Priapus on their heels.
“Nico, you double-crossing, one-eyed, son-of-a—”
Before Hermes can finish that sentence, I point one finger overhead. “Look up.”
His head tips back and I can see the moment when he realizes Edie is in the sky above him.
“Slayer of gods,” I remind him in a soft voice.
Priapus doesn’t waste any time jumping onto a motorcycle, with a special sidecar to hold his dick.
“Wait,” Hermes says as Priapus revs the engine. “What about the thing in the basement?”
“It’s over, Hermes,” he answers. Roaring away, he calls over his shoulder, “Every god for himself.”
Edie swoops down at that moment, spreading a wall of fire that burns through the strip club.
Hermes’ eyes go wide and then he lifts into the air, away from Edie, and disappears into the night.
Landing beside me, Edie shifts back into a leggy blonde with a bright smile. “Well, that was fun.”
“Oh, but it’s not over. I promised chestnuts,” I remind her, producing a cast iron pot full of them. Val takes them from me and walks them into the fire.
With the intense heat, they cook quickly. Taking Tim off my shoulders, I show him how to pull back the shell and find the soft meat inside.
Chandra is the first one to start humming the Christmas Song. You know, the one that starts with, “Chestnuts roasting on an open fire?” And then suddenly we’re all standing in front of a burning strip club, singing and eating chestnuts while we wait for a dead god’s body to burn.
It’s the best Christmas of my entire life.
“This is it,” I tell my friends, my voice thick with tears. “We’re gonna do this every year.”
“Burn down a strip club?” Cassie asks.
“No. Celebrate Christmas together. And I’ll be in charge of organizing it and bringing food and everything else. Everyone will say, if anyone knows how to do Christmas right, it’s Nico Tralano.”
“Merry Christmas!” Jordan cries out. And then everyone else joins in.
Tiny Tim tugs at my sleeve and gestures to me to pick him up again, so I do. Then with all eyes on him, he solemnly adds, “Gods bless us, every one!”
Happy Holidays!
Thank you for reading Chaos & Christmas! We hope you enjoyed it and would love if you could leave a review on Amazon with your thoughts.
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Here you can yell at us about cliffhangers, chat with other fans about our books, get exclusive early book excerpts, and even snippets from our Slack convos!
If you haven’t read the rest of the Mount Olympus Academy trilogy, and want to find out more about Nico, Edie, Val, and the rest of the crew - then check out the MOUNT OLYMPUS ACADEMY TRILOGY.
You can also find more of Edie in AMAZON PRINCESS: Amazon Academy Book 1.
Amazon Princess is book 1 in the Amazon Academy duology. The events in these books take place immediately after Wither & Wound: Mount Olympus Academy Book 3. However, this duology can also be read as a standalone series.
This young adult magic academy fantasy novel features: non-stop action, lots of cute boys, favorite characters from Mount Olympus Academy, a hero who's a total Darcy, and lots of plot twists to keep the pages turning.
Drop Dead Gorgeous meets The Hunger Games in this fun spin-off series!
Keep reading for a sneak peak at Chapter 1 of Amazon Princess…
CHAPTER ONE
I am beauty, I am grace. I will punch you in the face.
This has become my new mantra since the end of the world. My old mantra was, Miss Teen Wisconsin or Bust, but sometimes ya gotta adjust your goals.
I get out of my beat-to-crap pick-up truck carefully, making sure not to step on the train of my long sparkling gown. Even though there aren’t any more pageants, I still don’t wanna ruin it. All the Swarovski crystals on it cost me an arm and a leg.
Cost me an arm and a leg. That’s kinda a joke, but also kinda not.
Last week, I totally saw Miss Teen Dairy Queen on the side of the road. She was missing her left leg and had clearly bled out. I tried real hard to not think about how that might’ve happened. Years ago she’d had those long legs insured for something like a hundred grand a piece.
Seems unfair the insurance won’t be paying out on them suckers. But a lotta things ain’t fair these days, and I can’t say it was always all that better in the before times either.
I covered what was left of Desirae up with a blanket. And then, even though I’m not much for religion, I had a little chat with God after I got her all tucked in.
“Hey God, sorry I been cursing your name so much lately. Don’t take it personal, okay? I know you get touchy ’bout how folks use your name. But this ain’t about me. I’m calling up to you about Desirae here. Dessie was crowned Miss Teen Dairy Queen three years running. Those cow folks loved her legs. Anyway, you treat her like royalty up there, cuz that’s what she is.”
Who can say whether God was listening? From what I hear ’round town, his response rate isn’t what it used to be.
Now, kicking my truck door shut with a combat-booted heel, and clutching my baseball bat, I head into the Piggly Wiggly.
Six months ago, I was Brandee Jean Mason, resident Beauty Queen. Headed for big things and the bright lights…or at least, the state fair circuit.
Then came the earthquakes.
And the floods.
NYC fell into the ocean. California is now an island.
I mean, that’s the last I heard.
There hasn’t been a news broadcast in months, and the one guy in town who’s got a shortwave radio isn’t inclined to share info unless I do some sharing of other things—and that sure ain’t happening. No way, no how.
I think I’d rather not know, anyway.
Now I grab a shopping cart and wipe down the handle with the wet wipes, still in the dispenser. The apocalypse is not a good time to get salmonella.
Wisconsin weathered the storms better than most states. We’ve got our own farms and fields, and enough people got solar panels and even their own wind turbines, that some folks even still have electric. But unless you know how to hunt, raise, or grow your own food, you’re still stuck shopping.
Which can be a real pain in my ass—my very nice, award-winning ass.
Carl looks up from the year-old magazine he’s reading behind the check-out line. “Hi, Brandee Jean.”
There’s a machine gun next to him on the counter. Bandits killed his dad a few months back and he’s not about to let them get him too.
I relax a little. Carl’s a good guy, always polite. I’ve known him since middle school.
I push the
cart over to him, putting a little swing into my hips. “What we got today?”
“Corn. And more corn.” He peeks at me over the magazine. “Nice dress.”
“It’s my armor.” I tell him, doing a twirl, then a little curtsy.
“The baseball bat really makes the outfit. I give it ten out of ten.”
My bat is spangled and painted bright red. I found it at the back of my closet, leftover from a “Damn Yankees” dance routine I did years ago. Weaponry is the to-die-for accessory this season, and I do like to stay on trend.
I smile with a wide-open mouth, showing all my teeth, just like I would on the pageant stage. I put a hand to my chest. “Why thank you. I’m just so very honored to be here today.”
He laughs. “We did get in a fresh batch of Quik Powder…”
“Well, why didn’t you start with that?” I ask.
Quik Powder is a refined food source. You can make bread or pancakes, or just mix it with water and drink it. It tastes like glue, but it also sticks to your ribs in about the same way, which means that you can eat a little and stay full for a whole day.
I load up my cart with five canisters of powder, then with dairy products and beef (God bless the great state of Wisconsin). I push the cart to the front and Carl surveys my take.
“That will be two hundred and fifty dollars.”
Damned inflation. There goes my college fund. Not that I’m going to college anymore. The end of the world really put a pin in my five-year success plan.
I sigh. “Will you take a check?”
“You know I won’t,” he tells me with a kind smile.
I smile back, showing the teeth, then leaning forward and pressing my elbows together just enough to make it clear that my cleavage is very serious about needing some protein.
He looks. Of course he looks. Beautiful girls in gowns aren’t sashaying down these aisles every day. But he also blushes, which is damn decent of him.
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