A Very Paranormal Holiday

by J. T. Bock

  As soon as her back was turned he planned to finish off the glass. If she asked about it later he’d claim he gave the rest to her shape-shifter cat, Sable, who currently lounged in her lynx form on the couch washing a paw.

  Melena’s lips twitched. “If you say so.”

  He put the glass on a side table. A piece of furniture high enough he hoped the aforementioned cat wouldn’t get to it before he did later.

  “I do.”

  Emily shoved tinsel into his hands. “Good, then get to work. Lucas is going to be here with dinner soon and I want to be done by then.”

  Kerbasi’s mood soured further. The last thing he wanted—aside from decorating a tree—was to deal with Melena’s lover. He’d known the man for centuries, but neither of them liked each other. Lucas was a nephilim, half-angel and half-human. A race to be reviled for their unnatural births and destructive tendencies. Kerbasi had tortured him whenever he’d been confined to Purgatory, but Lucas hadn’t learned to curb his aggressive behavior. He was a product of twisted genetics that could be contained, but not easily controlled.

  “Please tell me that abomination is not coming.” He gave Melena an accusatory look.

  She usually tried to keep him and Lucas apart if for no other reason than more of her furniture would be destroyed if she didn’t. Since moving into her new house a few months before they’d already broken two small tables and a book shelf. The coffee-colored sofa and love seat with their rolled arms and brass nailhead trim had somehow survived unscathed. Kerbasi was learning to flash outside before the true fighting began.

  “He’s coming, and he’s agreed to keep the peace if you do. But…” Melena paused and gave him a stern look, “if one of you starts something, there will be consequences.”

  The last time he’d instigated the fight she’d made him clean up the mess, write a ten page report on the effects of violence in the home—with source citations from the internet—and not allowed him in the house for a week. He’d had no access to a television and his meals had been brought to his little hut out back. Usually cold.

  She’d promised the next time the retribution would be worse. That she might even take the electric heater in this shack away from him. If he wasn’t always on the receiving end, he could almost respect her for her inventive punishments.

  He didn’t know what she did to Lucas when he started the fights, but the nephilim was always in a sour mood the next morning when he came down for coffee. Perhaps she snored loudly or put ice cubes in his underwear. He wouldn’t put it past the evil woman.

  “Would you not consider decorating this tree punishment already?” Kerbasi asked.

  Melena snorted. “Just help Emily. Maybe I’ll let you have some more eggnog later.”

  “I’m not so easily bribed.”

  “Ha!” She headed for the stairs, leaving him at the mercy of her protégé.

  “Put the tinsel on the tree like this.” Emily demonstrated, carefully laying strands of it along one of the branches.

  He attempted to replicate her actions, but the tinsel somehow got tangled in the needles of the tree. A second attempt proved worse than the first. Finally, he tossed the rest at the nearest branches. That worked well enough. Kerbasi was pleased with how it fell in disorganized clusters but stayed on there.

  “You’re trying to make a mess of this, aren’t you?” Emily accused.

  He cocked his head. “Have you considered how the tree might feel about all this?”

  “Trees don’t feel anything, you buffoon.”

  The doorbell rang. Never before had he been happier to hear the annoying sound.

  “I’ll get that.” He rushed off, not looking back.

  The living room was at the rear of the house, but the main entrance was at the front just past the dining room. Kerbasi would take any excuse to get out of sight from the teenagers and their decorating.

  Cori stood on the porch when he opened the door. She had a red knit cap tucked over her shoulder-length black hair and wore a leather jacket with jeans and a low-cut top. He tried very hard not to notice the creamy cleavage her shirt revealed. It was his intention to maintain his purity while on earth—no matter how the women dressed.

  “What are you? Some sad excuse for a butler now?” Cori asked, shoving her way past him.

  Kerbasi couldn’t understand why Melena had befriended the tattoo artist. She had a nasty attitude and far too much self-confidence for a woman nearly a foot shorter than him. But because she was human he couldn’t harm her no matter what she said or did to him. Of course, she knew this and used it to her advantage.

  “If I was a butler, I certainly wouldn’t allow a woman of your ilk inside,” he replied, trailing behind her. At least she might prove useful in distracting the teenagers.

  He almost ran into her when she halted midway through the dining room. A visible shudder ran down her back. Kerbasi followed her line of sight to the Christmas tree. Emily had already repaired the disaster he’d made of it and added more tinsel. Hunter was hanging shiny red baubles with hooks connected to them.

  “Hey, Cori,” Melena said from behind them. “Glad you could make it. Lucas should be here with dinner soon.”

  Cori didn’t move. Kerbasi checked her face and found it frozen with a haunted look in her eyes. He’d seen similar expressions on the nephilim prisoners he’d tortured over the years, but he didn’t understand how a Christmas tree could have caused it. Even he wasn’t that disturbed by the thing.

  Melena took Cori by the arm. “Are you okay?”

  “I just…I have to go.” She jerked away and headed for the door.

  Kerbasi used his ability to read thoughts and caught a memory playing in Cori’s head. One of a different Christmas time and a small child helping her decorate a tree. The girl looked to be approximately five years old and had Cori’s hazel eyes and black hair. He’d never seen or heard any mention of her before.

  “Wait,” Melena called out as her friend made it to the door. The sensor couldn’t have seen the memories, but she would have felt the heavy emotions that came with them.

  “Let her go.” Kerbasi said, blocking the sensor’s path. “Remaining here is too painful for her.”

  He didn’t know why he felt the need to protect Cori, but he did it anyway.

  Melena glared at him. “What do you mean?”

  “This is not an easy holiday for her.” While he might not know what became of the little girl, he could ascertain enough to know it had been tragic.

  Tires peeled in the snow outside.

  “Dammit, I should talk to her.”

  “Not now.” Kerbasi shook his head. “I may not have much liking for the woman, but even I can see she isn’t interested in sharing her story at the moment. If she wants you to know, she’ll tell you in her own time.”

  A flash of light appeared across the room.

  Melena balled her fists. “Sometimes people need a nudge to talk about their problems. If you understood humans at all you’d get that. Next time, don’t stop me.”

  “Don’t stop you from what?” Lucas asked, setting a couple of brown bags down on the cherry wood dining room table. The scent of Chinese food wafted from them.

  The nephilim’s blond hair had grown out several inches longer than he normally allowed it. A testament to his focus in recent months on finding his missing twin brother. Kerbasi had always thought it wrong that two identical nephilim should be unleashed on the world. He hoped the other one was well and truly gone.

  As was Lucas’ habit, he wrapped his arms around Melena’s waist and pulled her into his chest. Despite being dwarfed by him, her shoulders eased a fraction. It was almost sickening how the two of them acted around each other. Kerbasi could not understand how two people with such unsavory personalities had fallen in love.

  “Nothing,” Melena said, turning in the nephilim’s arms to look up at him. “We were just having a disagreement on how to help friends.”

  His golden eyes softened as he star
ed down at her. “Which friend?”

  “Cori. She freaked out when she saw the kids decorating the Christmas tree and took off.”

  Lucas ran his fingers through Melena’s loose auburn hair. “Perhaps it is something she does not wish to speak about.”

  “That’s what I said,” Kerbasi grumbled. “Her memories are hers to keep to herself.”

  At least, now that he knew what they were. He could still see the little girl’s striking eyes and her tiny hands putting an ornament on the tree. Cori had been happy watching her daughter in that moment, but something had changed. Something terrible.

  Lucas lifted his head and his features hardened. “What would you know about keeping memories private?”

  Kerbasi couldn’t help but retort. “A vile nephilim like yourself doesn’t deserve such a courtesy.”

  Over the centuries he’d tortured Lucas in a variety of ways. His childhood memories, filled with a father who hated him, had been particularly fertile grounds to make him suffer. Kerbasi hadn’t seen it as an invasion in that case, but as a teaching tool. Only through pain could he possibly guide him to a more meaningful existence.

  If there was a niggle of doubt now creeping in his mind about his methods, he had to ignore it. He’d done what he must for the greater good. The nephilim had calmed his violent tendencies toward humans in recent times, proving Kerbasi had done the right thing.

  In a flash of light Lucas appeared in front of the guardian and wrapped a hand around his neck. “Perhaps I can give you a few unsavory memories of your own to mull over in that twisted head of yours.”

  Of course, not all the violent tendencies were gone.

  “I don’t think so.” Kerbasi grabbed the nephilim’s wrist and broke himself free.

  At twenty-five hundred years old Lucas was strong, but the guardian had two more millennia on him. His power was greater.

  The two men glared at each other.

  “Stop it. Both of you promised not to fight.” Melena attempted to shoulder her way between them. Neither man budged, standing only inches apart.

  She was twenty-eight years old and had only become an immortal that past spring. If Lucas and he fought while she stood within striking distance she’d get hurt. Not that he truly cared, but getting injured made her cranky. He’d rather not put up with that.

  “Out back?” Kerbasi suggested, keeping his eyes on his opponent.

  “Yes,” Lucas growled.

  “No, you can’t just…” Melena began.

  He flashed outside without bothering to hear the rest of what she said.

  His feet sunk into the snow. He kicked as much of it away as he could and brushed his loose hair from his face. Between the difficulties of interacting with Edan yesterday and tree decorating with Emily today, he needed this fight. Anything to get the heavy feeling off his chest that came with being around the earth-born races.

  The nephilim flashed in front of him, standing a handful of feet away. Lucas’ eyes glowed golden. That was always a good sign he’d put up a hard fight. When he leaped forward Kerbasi ducked low and raised his palms upward, taking hold of his opponent’s leather jacket as it reached him. He flung Lucas to the side and watched the snow fly as the nephilim skidded across it.

  He was back on his feet in seconds. The nephilim had a lot more experience with this terrain, which Kerbasi needed to keep in mind. He also needed to remember his opponent had been exposed to a variety of fighting styles and fought hundreds of battles. Kerbasi hadn’t had many opportunities to hone his skills in Purgatory except when he or the other guardians there were bored. It put him at a slight disadvantage.

  He swung his left arm out, narrowly missing the nephilim as he leaned to the side. Kerbasi tried with his right next, but Lucas ducked it and used the opening to make his own move. His fist flew out to strike the side of Kerbasi’s head with a skull-thudding force that nearly knocked him over. He blinked to clear his vision.

  “Are they fighting again?” Hunter asked.

  From the corner of his eye he caught the two teenagers standing on the back stoop of the house. At least they’d had the sense not to come any closer.

  “Yeah. I knew Melena couldn’t make them get along,” Emily replied.

  “Who do you think will win?”

  Emily laughed. “I’ve got five bucks on Lucas.”

  Kerbasi dove at his opponent, barreling into him so they crashed to the ground. He rose up to his knees and curled his fingers around the nephilim’s throat. Now that he had an audience he could not afford to lose. They would laugh at him and mock him if he did.

  “I’m not taking that bet,” Hunter muttered. “Lucas usually wins.”

  Despite his age and power, everyone considered Kerbasi weak. They even looked upon him as if he was a lesser being. How anyone without wings could think themselves above him he did not know. It was galling and though he’d never admit it aloud, it hurt a little. Never before had he needed to prove himself. He’d simply worked his way up to his position through the standard protocol of his kind. Why was everything so much more difficult on earth?

  In Purgatory he’d been accepted and appreciated. Now he was an outcast.

  He punched Lucas in the face twice. It felt good, grinding his knuckles into the nephilim’s nose and bloodying his lips. For a moment, he was the aggressor. The one who would triumph. They would all see his strength and prowess and know that he was not weak.

  A glint of metal flashed and a sharp pain pierced his kidney.

  He looked down to find a knife stuck in the side of his abdomen. That damn nephilim had drawn a knife. Why hadn’t he thought of that? Kerbasi jerked it out and lifted it up. With a cry of rage he plunged downward toward the nephilim’s chest.

  Lucas raised his knee and rolled Kerbasi onto his back. Instead of the blade striking his opponent’s chest, it only grazed his arm. The two men wrestled for control of the knife, twisting back and forth on the ground. He sliced Lucas a few times, but the cuts were shallow and healed almost as fast as they were made.

  The nephilim stuffed a handful of snow in his eyes. He shook his head to fling it off. Lucas set his knees on Kerbasi’s arms and pried at the fingers of his left hand where he held the knife. Kerbasi jerked the arm away and flung the blade across the lawn. Better to have it out of reach.

  He returned his attention to his opponent and cringed. The flat of Lucas’ hand was coming down toward his face. He tried to twist away, but the heavy weight on top of him made it impossible to move fast enough. The palm struck the bottom of his nose and shoved it back into his head with a force only an immortal could create. His vision blackened and pain unlike anything he’d ever felt before screamed through him.

  He flailed around, attempting to find his opponent and strike back, but found nothing solid. The heavy weight was off of him.

  “You think too much of yourself, guardian, and have much to learn,” Lucas said from somewhere above.

  A kick landed in his side. The same side that had just been stabbed. Kerbasi curled into a ball, wishing for the pain to go away.

  “That’s enough,” Melena said, her steps crunching in the snow as she came toward them. “I think he’s learned his lesson.”

  Lucas grabbed Kerbasi’s shirt collar and jerked him up. “It will never be enough.”

  Water splashed, several drops landing on him.

  “It is for now.”

  “Did you just throw water at me?” Lucas asked.

  “Let the idiot go. I’m hungry and I want to eat.” There was no mistaking the anger in Melena’s voice.

  “You didn’t answer my question, sensor.”

  “You started it this time after I asked you to behave. If you think the water is bad, just wait until you see what I’ll do to you later tonight.”

  “What makes you think I’ll allow you to do anything?” Lucas dropped Kerbasi.

  The guardian’s body thudded to the ground. A fresh wave of pain rolled through him and he could barely suppress a moa
n.

  “You will if you know what’s good for you,” she said.

  “That remains to be seen.” A door slammed.

  “Told you Lucas would win,” Emily remarked.

  “I didn’t say he wouldn’t,” Hunter replied. “But you have to admit that was one of their better fights…though Kerbasi really got his ass handed to him at the end.”

  “Yeah, he did. That nose jab looked like it really hurt.” Feet kicked against the back steps. “It would have killed a human.”

  “No doubt.”

  The door slammed again.

  They’d left him there to bleed out in the snow. Alone and forgotten. Once again, he’d failed to prove himself superior. What would it take for them to look at him differently? And why had he begun to care?

  Kerbasi rolled onto his knees and started the slow crawl back to his little shack. Mustering the magic to flash inside was beyond him.

  Chapter 4

  Clouds filled the sky and light flakes of snow fell as they made their way across the lawn toward Edan’s house. Neither of them spoke. Kerbasi had no desire to talk.

  He hadn’t seen Melena after the fight last night, preferring to remain in his shack and forego dinner—something he rarely did. She’d pounded on the door that morning, rousing him from a fitful sleep. He’d opened his eyes to instant bursts of pain in his head. The light coming through his window had been far too bright and everything spun when he got up. He’d had to grip the edge of his desk until the nausea passed.

  He should have been fine with his rapid healing capabilities, yet he’d felt as if he was recovering from a human hangover. It was a miracle the sensor didn’t break down the door while waiting on him to get there—though it was clear in her expression once he saw her that she could feel his pain. Perhaps that’s why she’d waited.

  Kerbasi knew he wasn’t fit for anyone’s company, but he didn’t argue when Melena told him where they were going. That would require speaking to her. He’d simply nodded, shut the door, and donned a pair of slacks and a red button-up shirt. Along with his favorite black leather boots. Kerbasi didn’t take time with his wardrobe for Melena’s sake, but rather for himself. There was no need for his outward appearance to reflect his inner turmoil, and going through the motions of dressing himself had helped make him feel better. More in control.