As he put the buckets down, a few ornaments from each bucket fell out and broke. The glass ornaments split cleanly into a few parts, glistening on the bare forest ground.
“Shit,” cursed Sean, causing his chest mark to burn and remind him not to use Naughty words.
Sean looked back. He’d dropped other ornaments on the way to Krampus, and they’d also broken. The task seemed so simple, but apparently, there was more to it than he realized.
“Lesson number one, don’t curse on The Ride,” said Krampus. “The only one allowed to curse is Santana, for putting up with your shit. Lesson number two. Learn how to carry delicate things efficiently. Efficacy means not breaking anything. You’ll be pulling the most precious cargo in the world in that sleigh. You’ll be carrying Santana fuckin’ Claus. Right now, you let an ornament fall out of a bucket. What if next time, you let Santana fall out of the sleigh?”
Krampus waved his hand. The ornament pieces rose from the ground and reassembled themselves. With a flick of the wrist, the ornaments were back in the buckets.
“Carry them back to where you picked them up, then, back,” said Krampus.
Krampus reached into his pocket and pulled out a stopwatch to use to time Sean. After twenty trips, Sean had not managed to balance speed and care. He would either carry the buckets too quickly and cause the ornaments to spill out of the buckets, or he’d carry them too slowly and not meet Krampus’ metrics. Sean swore the buckets must’ve been lined with oil or something to make the ornaments fall out. Maybe Krampus was using demoncraft to cause the decorations to slip out of the buckets.
Sean sighed and put down the buckets of ornaments. He knew that training was going to be hard, but he’d expected Krampus was going to have him running laps or working out in a weight room or some shiny gym. He knew there was a method to the old goat’s madness, so when Krampus whistled, Sean picked the buckets back up and kept moving.
After thirty more trips, Sean finally got it. Sean had counted the seconds in his head as he walked, attuning himself to the rhythm of the exercise.
“And…done,” said Sean, putting the buckets down carefully without letting a single ornament fall from the bucket.
“Yes, yes you did,” said Krampus. “Now, onto part two. You need to carry those buckets without spilling a single ornament.”
“I just did that,” said Sean.
“I’m not finished,” said Krampus. “You need to do it all over again…in your shift.”
“In my fucking shift?” Asked Sean, making his chest burn.
“Word to the wise. Use ‘frikking’ or something. Your mark won’t burn when you use a fake cuss word,” advised Krampus after having noticed Sean wincing. “I assure you. I am serious. Let Dasher teach you. Take his advice. You need to learn to use your reindeer shift as well as you could use your bear shift. I bet you could’ve carried an egg in your bear shift’s mouth without crushing it. I need you to have that level of precision with your shift. The Ride is more than important. It’s dangerous. There’s a reason we need strong-willed shifters who can handle The Ride mentally and physically. We’ve got most of the physical part down pat. You’ve done arm day and leg day and worked that core. Today is brain day. Heart day. Soul day. Whatever you want to call it, we need to work on what’s on the inside today.”
“Strong-willed shifters? That why you pick bad boys for The Ride?” Sean asked rhetorically.
“Yes,” said Krampus. “Can you imagine a shifter so strong willed that he is able to resist his purest biological, Fated urge, the urge to find a fated mate? That strong will is a curse I’m turning into a blessing. And trust me. I’m a demon. I know all about curses. Enough about theory. Let’s get into practice. Listen to Dasher.”
Sean backed up into a clear spot in the arena.
Alright, how do we do this? Sean asked Dasher.
Get on all fours, ordered Dasher.
Sean got on his hands and knees.
Okay, close your eyes, then, open them up. I’ll handle the shift, said Dasher.
Sean opened his eyes. He was in his reindeer form. Sean reached to grab one of the ornament buckets with his hoof, but he knocked it over.
You don’t have paws, said Dasher. Use your horns.
My horns? asked Sean.
Like threading a needle, said Dasher.
Krampus raised a hand and the ornament bucket untipped and refilled with ornaments. Sean bent down and gently threaded the tip of his antler through the bucket’s handle. It took a few tries, but he finally managed to do it. When Sean had finally threaded the bucket handle onto his antler, he stood up quickly, causing the ornaments to go flying.
We’re going to be at this all day, aren’t we? asked Sean.
If you’re lucky, that’s all, said Dasher. Try all week.
Chapter Seven
December 23rd, 2007
‘Twas the night before the night before Christmas,
and all through the Bear Claw Bakery,
every creature was stirring…
They were literally stirring. They had big wooden spoons and electric mixers. They were stirring up big bowls of batter, ready to be dolloped onto cookie trays and shoved in the oven.
Joy and Sean were on baking duty, while Pandora and Jack were on packaging duty. Joy and Sean baked batches of chocolate chip cookies while Pandora and Jack packaged the cookies on ceramic Christmas plates, donated by a local pottery shop, and put them in a basket with a pint of milk. Joy and Sean cooked up batches of croissants, white chocolate cranberry scones, and white chocolate peppermint dipped pretzels for older members of the families to enjoy. They also cooked up treats for the young ones: sugar cookies in classic Christmas shapes, like bells, snowflakes, and Christmas trees, decorated by Pandora and Jack.
“These smell so good,” said Pandora. “I want to eat one so badly.”
“Those are for the kids,” said Joy, taking the cookies away from Pandora. “You can have some cookies at the after party.”
“What after party?” asked Sean.
“After the deliveries, Avery is putting on an after-party, to thank all the volunteers for their help,” said Joy. “It’s at six, tomorrow evening.”
The last pan of cookies had come out of the oven when somebody rang the bell at the front counter. Pandora went to check and see who had entered the obviously closed, and locked cafe.
“Krampus? What are you doing here?” asked Pandora.
“I need to see Sean for a few minutes,” said Krampus.
“How did you get in here?” asked Joy.
“Uh…spare key,” lied Krampus. “So, Sean?”
“Sure, steal him away,” said Joy. “Just send him back when you’re done with him.”
Krampus beckoned Sean. Sean followed Krampus to the front of the empty cafe. They left the bakery and stood to the side of the bakery, away from the windows.
“What’s up?” asked Sean.
“I came here to say you did good,” said Krampus. “For one night, and I mean one night, I’m giving you back your shift.”
“You’re what?” asked Sean.
“Calm down,” said Krampus. “Don’t make me regret doing this. Tonight, you can have your shift back. But tomorrow, Dasher’s going to get right back inside you. Both you and Dasher need a break. He needs a nap, and you, well, you need to get some of your excess energy out. Go out and play in the snow or something. Whatever it is bear shifters do. I don’t know.”
Krampus pulled out the familiar snow globe, and Sean touched it without even needing to be asked. Familiar rivers of red and green light flowed over Sean’s fingers as he felt his energy transfer between the globe and his heart.
“Boom,” said Krampus. “Tomorrow morning, before we get ready for The Ride, I’ll make sure Dasher gets put back inside you. Don’t do anything crazy tonight. Tomorrow’s an important night.”
“Got it,” said Sean. “And you trust me not to run off?”
“You found something keeping you at The
Wreath,” said Krampus with a smile. “Where the fuck could you go? Her house? The bakery? You think you’re so smart, Sean. But you’re just a shifter. Close to human. Dangerously close.”
“Why are you really doing this, Krampus?” asked Sean.
“Because you and I know this might be your last chance to use your bear,” said Krampus, putting a hand on Sean’s shoulder. “I wanted to give you a chance to say goodbye.”
“I’ve done everything right,” said Sean. “I’ve obeyed all the rules.”
“You haven’t gotten off The Naughty List, you haven’t earned back your mate mark, and you haven’t claimed your fated mate,” said Krampus. “You’re still in danger of mate madness, Sean. I don’t write those rules. I can just break some for you tonight, to give you one last night with your shift. Maybe this won’t be your last time with your bear. But maybe it will be. Don’t waste it.”
Sean and Krampus went into the bakery. Krampus placed an order with Joy while Sean went to the back to finish up the baking. Many hands had made light work.
“That’s the last package,” said Jack, carrying a basket filled with goodies into the cold storage area.
“We’ll be heading out,” said Pandora, taping down a roll of ribbon. “Our dads will pitch a fit if we’re not up at The North Pole by the end of tonight.”
“Krampus told me you’re Santana Claus’s daughter, Pandora. What’s Jack’s dad do anyway?” asked Sean, sitting on the counter.
“Controls the weather,” said Pandora. “Well, some of it, anyway.”
“What?” asked Sean.
“Ice elemental, pretty typical stuff, and he handles stuff like blizzards,” said Pandora.
“He could stop them if he could, but he doesn’t?” asked Sean.
“Bingo,” said Pandora.
“Well, let’s be fair,” said Jack. “What would Christmas be without snow? There’s a reason behind my father’s machinations. Nobody likes Old Man Winter, but everyone loves building snowmen on Christmas.”
“Sorry, hit a sore spot?” asked Sean.
“Don’t worry about it,” said Jack.
“Hey, before we head out, here,” said Pandora, reaching into her bag and pulling a present out. “I heard you didn’t know many people ‘round here, so I thought it was fitting I give you a present, so you have at least one thing waiting for you under the tree.”
Pandora passed the present to Sean. The present was labeled with Sean’s name.
“What is it?” asked Sean.
“No point in spoiling the surprise so close to Christmas,” said Pandora with a wink before leaving the bakery with Jack.
“Now what?” asked Joy, entering the bakery and looking around the kitchen, full of dirty cooking utensils.
“I think you owe me that date,” said Sean. “Do you want to go to the after party with me?”
“As a date?” asked Joy.
“Yeah, that’s why I prefaced all that with, ‘I think you owe me that date,’“ joked Sean. “You in or do I need to put some lipstick on my left hand and call that my girlfriend for the night?”
“I’ll go with you,” said Joy, blushing and looking up at the ceiling. “You did good today, Sean. Real good.”
“It’s really coming down out there,” said Sean. “How are you getting home?”
“I’ll walk,” said Joy.
Sean hadn’t been sure about how he wanted to spend his last night in his shift. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to go swimming in The Wreath or running in the woods of Camp Kringle, but when he heard Joy’s answer to his question, he knew what he wanted to do with his bear.
“Walk? Don’t be silly,” said Sean. “I can give you a ride. Just meet me out front in five.”
“Okay, let me load up the dishwasher, and I’ll be right out,” said Joy.
Sean went to the front of the cafe and grabbed one of the larger brown paper bags. He went to the guest bathroom and disrobed, putting all his clothing into the brown paper bag. He carried the brown paper bag out to the front of the store, where he got down on all fours, and, for the first time in what felt like forever, he turned into his true self, his bear self.
“Sean?” called Joy, opening the front door slowly.
Joy put a hand over her mouth to stop herself from shouting. She was used to seeing shifters running around in their shifts back in Port Jameson, where people would walk by Bear Claw Bakery as, well, bears! She was used to seeing lions walking down Main Street and seeing foxes scampering around the park.
She was still surprised to see the brown grizzly bear standing outside her door. She recognized the bear as a grizzly bear. But, the bear didn’t look grizzly. It seemed friendly. It was bigger than any other grizzly bear she’d seen before. It had cute furry little ears and big fluffy paws. Joy swore the bear was smiling at her.
“Sean…is that you?” asked Joy.
The bear nodded his head furiously, his mouth open, tongue lolling out, his little ears flapping as he nodded. While he shook his head, tiny flakes of white snow swirled away into the night air. He let out a small grunt.
“You surprised me! I didn’t expect to meet your bear tonight.”
Sean turned and looked at Joy. He let out a small roar and nodded his head.
“You nearly gave me a heart attack,” said Joy. “I thought I was going to need to use Avery’s shotgun she keeps in the gun safe in her office. You ready to walk me home?”
Sean pointed at the bag with his snout and then, motioned over his back.
“You want me to put the bag on your back?” asked Joy.
Sean shook his head. He pointed to the bag, then to Joy, then to his back.
“You want me to carry the bag and get on your back?” asked Joy. “I don’t think you can carry me.”
Sean nodded his head vigorously. He went up the bag, booped it with his snout, went up to Joy, bopped her knee with his muzzle, and then, motioned to his back.
“Okay, okay, I get it,” said Joy, laughing. “Pushy, pushy.”
Joy took the brown paper bag and got on Sean’s back. Sean started moving, and Joy slid off his slick body, falling in a pile of snow behind Sean. Joy laughed, picked herself up, brushed herself up, stuffed the brown paper bag in her work backpack, and got back on Sean. Joy had heard of ‘getting back on the horse,’ but ‘getting back on the bear’ was a new one. She gripped Sean with her thick thighs and held onto two large wrinkles of fur around his front hump. Sean plodded off slowly down the street and then stopped.
“You have no idea where I live, do you?” asked Joy.
Sean looked back and shook his head ‘no.’
Joy laughed.
“Okay, so, we’re going to take a left up there, and then…” started Joy, giving Sean directions to her house.
Joy and Sean took in the Christmas sights. Every storefront and every house in The Wreath had put up Christmas lights. Some were simple, glowing warm white, the color of antique lace. Others were more elaborate, with three-dimensional chicken wire models of reindeer covered in red and green lights. Sean was able to walk through the snow faster than Joy could’ve walked through the snow. Sean’s body kept Joy warm as they walked, his hot body between her legs warming up her thighs and hips. Joy’s jacket kept the heat trapped inside her torso, keeping her entire core warm.
Sean enjoyed the simple things about the walk. He enjoyed the feeling of snow between his paws. He relished in feeling the snow squish down into hard snow beneath his every step. He liked the way his fur brushed against the trees and signs and short fences on the way to Joy’s apartment. Every small thing he had never considered before, about being a bear shifter, about being an actual bear, he took the time to think about and appreciate. Krampus was right. This could be Sean’s last night as a bear shifter. There was nobody Sean would’ve rather spent it with or shared it with than Joy.
Sean’s bear roared at the revelation that this could be his last night with Sean. Sean filled his bear in on the situation. He only had unti
l Christmas to figure everything out, to do things right, for once, and without having his bear to help him, well, Sean had been a little lost…but now, he realized just how serious the situation was. He’d wasted years running away from Fate, and now, he was sprinting toward the finish line. It was the most important race of Sean’s life, and he’d been running it without his bear…and if he couldn’t complete the race, well, he’d lose his bear forever.
He’d lose his mate mark. He’d miss his chance at claiming a fated mate. Even as a mere human, he’d probably end up losing Joy. They were together now, but they only had until Christmas to tell each other their feelings. Sean was able to tell his bear anything, so why couldn’t he just tell the Joy that he’d fallen and melted for her like marshmallows dropped over hot cocoa?
Sean’s joy was bittersweet as baking chocolate. Sean did feel regret. He hadn’t shifted as much as he could’ve before all this happened before he was taken to The Wreath. He hadn’t searched for a fated mate as hard as he should’ve. Even though he’d pursued the woman he was sure was his fated mate, he hadn’t claimed her. Hadn’t even come close. Walking her home was the closest they’d gotten in the weeks they’d known each other. Sean was used to banging women within hours of meeting them. He’d never been denied anything before. He’d never had to work for anything either. Running had always been second nature to him. He hadn’t been able to run from Fate, and he hadn’t been able to pull himself out of Joy’s orbit. Everything he’d done in his free time since meeting her had been for her, and she hadn’t so much as hugged him yet. If he’d met her before, would they have had a chance? If he’d met her at some marathon in Seattle, or on a trail in Port Jameson, would they have sparked a connection? Or had Fate brought them together, to meet at The Wreath?
They reached the top of the hill leading to Joy’s rental unit.
“I live just down there,” said Joy, pointing at a house on the bottom of the hill.
Sean looked down the hill. There was a cleared-out path leading to the apartment, but, to the side, there was undeveloped land, covered in snow. Sean decided he was going to take the shortcut.
Dasher Claws: The Twelve Mates Of Christmas, Book 1 Page 6
