Unholy Night: A Paranormal Holiday Romance

by Karpov Kinrade

A knot forms in my stomach even as something in my soul loosens and breathes again.

  I am simultaneously pulled under the weight of it and renewed by my own tie to humanity—a kind of tug of war I haven’t felt in far too long.

  Needing something to do, I move to the corner of the room where I keep a full bar and I pour myself and Lyla each two fingers worth of scotch. For the little one I cheat a bit and use my own power to conjure a hot chocolate. She’ll need a little sugar to get through this night.

  Mandy’s eyes widen when I call her over and hand it to her. Then I carry mine and Lyla’s drinks and join her on the loveseat. Our thighs touch as I sit and I know she’s as keenly aware of me as I am of her.

  “A toast,” I say. “That our future be met with fortune and fortitude.”

  She clinks glasses with me then takes a sip. “Oh this is good. Very good. Strong peaty flavor. Smokey and robust.”

  “You know your scotch.”

  She nods. “Growing up my grandfather loved his scotch. He’d share sips with me when my mother wasn’t looking. At first it made me gag, but I eventually developed a taste for it.”I swirl the amber liquid in my glass, studying it. “This is the real deal. Scottish single malt scotch from Islay. The perk of a contract I made years ago.

  We sip our drinks slowly, savoring the burn. Once we are all finished, I stand. “Shall we be off then?”

  Lyla nods a bit nervously. “So we are really doing this?”

  I hold up my hands, palms up. “If we want to save Christmas, we must.”

  “I’ve got my people here ready for us when we return. But it’ll just be the three of us going. My demons would be too conspicuous.”

  Lyla smirks. “And you’ll fit right in? Or me for that matter?” She glances down at her outrageously tight bodysuit that molds to her skin like a glove.

  “You’ll be as stealth as night itself,” I say, admiring the outfit once more before I summon a door of fire to take us to the most insufferable place imaginable.

  I’ve been to the North Pole exactly once. The year the Summit was hosted there. We all take turns and that year it was Santa’s. God awful place. Truly.

  I’m not looking forward to going back, but I remember the place well enough to get us where we need to be.

  This time I take the lead, holding Lyla and Mandy’s hands as I guide them through the portal and transport them from Hell to somewhere far worse.

  I can smell the peppermint the moment we step through, and it nearly gags me. My eyes water and I blink back the tears. I’m the Devil. Nothing makes me cry, but this blasted peppermint is evil. Everything in this cursed domain smells like peppermint. All the time. Every emotion. It is a nightmare.

  I’ve actually reproduced this smell as a torture for some of my less fortunate guests. It works wonders.

  Mandy takes a sniff and coughs. “Smells like someone threw up a lot of candy canes,” she says, with the honest insight only a child has.

  Lyla is about to scold her but I laugh. “You’re absolutely right, my dear. It does.”

  We are standing in a field of snow surrounded by a grove of Noble Firs reaching hundred of feet into the sky, their silvery green branches lightly dusted with the perfect amount of snow and lit up by dozens of tiny white candles on each tree.

  And there are hundreds of trees.

  The effect is quite stunning, even I can admit as much.

  “This is a fire danger,” Mandy says solemnly. “We learned about it in school during our Stop, Drop, and Roll lessons.”

  “The magic of this place protects the forest,” I say. But the worry of her words lingers.

  We won’t be here long enough to be concerned about fire hazards anyway. “The village is through those trees,” I say pointing west. “We just need to get to the barn where the sleigh and reindeer are kept and we’ll be out of here.”

  Lyla shivers, but it cannot be from the cold. Her outfit is insulated with Hell’s special brand of warming magic. As is Mandy’s. They will both stay perfectly regulated all night. Something else is bothering her, agitating the little bit of magic that inhabits her soul.

  She instinctively knows something is off about this place, and she’s not wrong.

  It feels different than when I was last here.

  More... desperate.

  We move quickly and quietly. Even Mandy manages to maintain some level of stealth, though I end up carrying her on my shoulders once we are within sight of the village. She’s getting tired and Lyla shouldn’t have to do all the work. Not while I’m around and able to help.

  The little imp holds onto my horns as she rides on my shoulders, guiding me like her own personal pony.

  I can only imagine what they would say about this back home.

  The moment we pass through the trees, we are accosted by a scene unlike any other. It’s Christmas on crack. Glossy and shiny and noisy and blingy and so damn festive, but it all feels hollow this time. “This place feels like it should be fun,” Mandy says in a quiet voice, “but it’s just sad.”

  They can both see it, feel it. We all can. There are life-size cottages made of gingerbread and frosting. Once upon a time they might have looked tantalizing, but now they are fading. The frosting is yellowing, clumping, and crumbling. The gingerbread is cracking; it has definitely seen better days.

  And the elves who should be busy at work are lounging on porches smoking and drinking. Arguing about something nonsensical.

  They are dressed like Santa’s helpers, in the same getup as Mandy.

  Red and white stripes, floppy green hat, long toed shoes, candle cane pendants. But these elves are dirty. Their clothing has holes. Their lives are in disrepair. It’s sad to see even if I do hate the little buggers.

  “Are they… are they smoking mistletoe?” Lyla asks in a whisper, pointing to two male elves near the woods standing behind one of the cottages.

  “Yes,” I say.

  “Look, mommy. That one is smoking a candy cane. Why would he do that?” Mandy asks.

  I rescue Lyla from that question before she can reply. “They aren’t human. What’s deadly for a human is fine for them. Don’t do what they are doing. Mistletoe is poisonous to humans.” I try to channel a little of Lyla’s confident tone of authority that still has the backbone of love. “Just say no to mistletoe.”

  When she smiles at me, a smile that shows me her pretty teeth, I know I’ve gotten close enough.

  We stay behind the cottages, avoiding the two elves smoking. The deeper into the village we go, the stronger the peppermint scent grows and the heavier the feeling of wrongness swamps our senses

  “It’s a really powerful aroma, isn’t it?” Lyla says, covering her nose and mouth with her sleeve.

  “Something is wrong,” I say, the certainty growing in me.

  An argument breaks out in the cottage we are sneaking past, and I pull Lyla and Mandy against me and position us behind a tree. The branches drop a little snow on our heads and shoulders from our movements.

  A male and female are screaming at each other in elvish. Something about heat. Or flames of passion. I’m not sure.

  Littering the perimeters of all the cottages are empty containers of eggnog. “The elves have been hitting it hard, it would seem,” I whisper as we continue to move toward the barn.

  “Eggnog is hitting it hard?” Lyla asks with disbelief.

  “Here it is. They get drunk on that reindeer piss.”

  She snorts a laugh then covers her mouth at the startling loudness of the sound. “This place isn’t what I expected,” she whispers.

  I purse my lips in a frown. “It’s gotten worse than I realized. Don’t get me wrong, it’s always been a nightmare. But this is…”

  “Off.” she says, finishing my sentence.

  “Exactly,” I say, something in my chest sputtering like a nervous bird. “You’ve read my mind.”

  I can tell we are near the barn by the new smells wafting toward us. The smell of peppermint scented reind
eer shit. There’s nothing else like it.

  Mandy wrinkles her nose. “Ew. Gross. What is that?”

  “That is someone not taking care of their animals,” I say with a sharper tone than I intended. There’s nothing I loathe more than those who neglect children and those who neglect animals.

  I pick up my pace and reach the barn before the girls. I fling open the red and white striped door and gag.

  Santa’s reindeers are not living their best lives, as the humans these days would say.

  Most of them are lying down in their stalls, the hay long past due for changing. A pile of filth has been shoveled into a corner, swarmed with flies. It’s as if the elves have done the bare minimum to keep the reindeer alive.

  “Oh my God,” Lyla says, rushing in past me. “What’s wrong with them? We have to help them.”

  “There is no helping them,” a woman’s voice says from the shadows.

  Lyla yelps and steps back next to me, reaching for my hand. A thrill runs through me at the contact.

  Mandy crowds next to her mom, hiding her face against Lyla’s waist.

  A tall, slender woman with snow white hair braided down her back with red ribbon steps out of the shadows. Her pale blue eyes are trained on us. Her ageless face is impossible to read. Even her scent is hard to trace, whether because of the overwhelming vileness floating in the air or because she has gained such mastery of her emotions, I can’t say. But it’s disorienting.

  “Hello, Mrs. Claus,” I say.

  She smiles. “Lucie, why so formal? Do you call all your siblings by their last name?”

  “Of course not,” I say with a small bow. “Jessica. Lovely to see you.”

  She pulls out a candy cane and lights it with a blaze she produces from her finger.

  I sigh. “Not you too. What happened here?”

  She blows out a puff of minty smoke and laughs, but it’s a hard sound full of lost dreams. “Why not? We are in the age of the fall of magic,” she says sadly. “Soon we will all turn to dust.” She holds up her candy cane, the tip burning a bright red like a ripe cherry.

  “What happened to these animals?” Lyla demands, stepping forward boldly.

  “The same thing that is happening to all of the North Pole. They are dying. Everything is dying. Even their hay fades within an hour. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. They can’t fly tonight. Maybe they’ll never fly again. This might be the end of Christmas.”

  Lyla swears beside me and Mandy gasps under her breath but then falls silent again as the weight of our conversation settles on her.

  “Is this why your old elf was in such a foul mood tonight?” I ask.

  “Maybe.” She shrugs and looks away for a minute.

  “We need to borrow the sleigh,” I say. “We can save Christmas and we will spark what little magic is left in those children. It’s not too late.”

  Her eyes are bloodshot when she looks at me. Puffy and purple beneath. “How is it that the last optimist left would be Satan? You really are the best of us. I’ve always thought so.”

  That… surprises me to hear. And makes me feel… something. Surprise, certainly, but something else, too.

  “Are you going to try to stop us?” I ask.

  She laughs. “Stop you? I’m here to help you. You’re our last chance, Lucie. You always were.”

  I’m about to ask her what she means by that when what sounds like a herd of angry elves begin pounding on the barn door.

  Jessica rushes forward, then turns to us. “The sleigh is over there,” she says, pointing to the opposite end of the barn. “Do your thing and get out of here. I’ll distract Santa’s little helpers.”

  I nod my thanks. “How did you know we’d be here?” I ask as we move away from her.

  “Oh Lucifer.” She just smiles and shrugs vaguely. “You know.”

  And then she is gone.

  Disappeared like her husband. But without the tell.

  Her magic always was much stronger than Santa’s.

  A little-known secret outside the community.

  Jessica is the real powerhouse behind the holidays. Women usually are the unseen heroes that make it all happen.

  The sleigh is where she said, polished bright red like an apple. Not my color at all, but we can fix that when we get home.

  “Climb in,” I say, helping Mandy up.

  I turn to Lyla. “You and Mandy get in. I’m going to push it through the door I create.”

  “You can’t push it alone,” Lyla says.

  “Pft. Darling you have no idea what I’m capable of.”

  9

  Lyla

  I climb into the sleigh and pull Mandy against my side. I catch glimpses of switches and screens on the dash, but I don’t have time to study them because Lucifer's portal flames to life in front of us.

  “Are you sure you don’t nee--” I slide back in my seat and clamp my mouth shut as the sleigh rushes forward. Of course Lucifer can move a sleigh by himself. His show of strength does make me wonder what his other powers are, and my cheeks flame red and hot when I imagine… things I shouldn’t imagine under the circumstances.

  Mandy clutches my hand as we pass through the portal, but once through I realize she’s squeezing the blood out of my fingers due to excitement, not fear. Her face is full of wonder and delight. She stands up and lets go of my hand before turning to look over the backside of the sleigh.

  We’re in a small clearing, surrounded by giant trees, but not far away I can see something that looks like a stone structure, light pouring through what must be windows. In the opposite direction is the fairytale castle Lucifer calls home.

  “You’re really strong, Mr. Lucifer!” She waves at him. My heart clenches a little. She’s getting attached to him awfully quickly and who knows if we will even remember all of this once we’re done? And if we do remember, what are the chances we’ll see Lucifer again in our lifetime? He’d been clear from the start this is a one night only contract, despite his confusing comments about visiting again. He was undoubtedly just being polite.

  “Thank you, Lady Mandy.” I look back in time to see him sweep into a courtly bow that would please any queen.

  His gaze swings to me and questions fill his eyes. Did he pick up a change in my scent? I need to distract him.

  “Indeed, Lord Lucifer seems to be the strongest of all the knights.” I tilt my head in ladylike acknowledgment.

  He steps back as if he’s been struck and places a hand over his heart. “Oh, to be recognized by the stunning and brilliant, Lady Lyla. This humble knight is at your service.”

  My heartbeat speeds up and I can’t keep the smile off my face.

  He smiles back, leaning forward and resting his arms on the back of the sleigh. His dark eyes dance with mischief and something warmer. His hair is mussed from when Mandy rode his shoulders. It didn’t escape my notice that she used the ride as a chance to touch his horns despite me telling her not to. Thankfully he didn’t seem to mind.

  I put my elbow on the back of the chair and rest my face in my hands. I’m well aware of the view I’m providing. This ridiculous jumpsuit shares more cleavage than I normally would show. But for some reason, I feel daring. We are in Hell, after all. Even moms should be allowed to flirt a little in Hell.

  His eyes run from the top of my head, over my face, lingering on my lips, before continuing on to what I’m displaying. His expression is appreciative and instead of being embarrassed I feel a little wild. When his eyes finally return to mine, I know the lust I feel for him is returned in equal measure. I also know that what I feel for him is turning into something more than just lust.

  “Mr. Lucifer!” Mandy puts her hands on her hips next to me and I shake my head to clear it. I feel like I’m coming up for air after diving deep into the ocean. “I said your name three times! It’s not nice to ignore people.”

  She called his name? I meet his eyes and see the same thought flit through his mind.

  “My apologies, Mandy. Wh
at can I do for you?” He turns his complete attention to her and she seems mollified.

  “I asked what do we do now? We have the sleigh, but we still haven’t delivered any presents!” Mandy leans forward, worry giving her words an extra edge. “We’re going to run out of time!”

  Lucifer reaches his long arms up and Mandy reaches back, letting him lift her out of the sleigh. “Mandy, do you trust me?” He sets her feet on the ground and kneels before her.

  If I had my cell phone with me--assuming it would even work in Hell--I’d take a picture of this moment. Satan kneeling before a little girl, so he can speak with her eye to eye.

  “Yes, sir.” She nods solemnly and I try not to fist bump in victory that she remembered to say ‘sir’. I also try to ignore the clench of my heart and gut that she already trusts him so much.

  “I am not going to let anyone miss Christmas. This sleigh? It’s magic, just like what we have here in Hell. Time does not work the same way it does on Earth.”

  “It doesn’t?” Her eyes go wide and I remember she was asleep for that part of our conversation.

  “No. Which means, we have all the time we need.” He stands back up.

  “Then why does Santa try to deliver presents all in one night?” Her voice rises in confusion. “That doesn’t seem smart!”

  Lucifer freezes, his mouth open as he searches for words. He closes his mouth and looks at me. I shrug. How am I supposed to dispute her logic? He’s the one who’s supposed to have all the answers.

  He gives me a look that clearly says I’m no help before turning back to Mandy.

  “Walk with me.” He holds out his hand and she readily grabs it. “Hm. I think the reason he does it all in one night has to do with magic.”

  “But I thought magic was the reason he could do it whenever he wants.” She looks up at him and pushes her hat back out of her face.

  “Ah, the better way to explain would be to say he does it all in one night to make magic.” He leads her to where I’m still sitting in the sleigh and offers a hand to help me out. I let him help me down but before I can take my hand back, he laces his fingers with mine. He gives me a quick, questioning look, and I offer a small smile in return. I was feeling bold and sexy earlier, but now I feel like a girl holding hands for the first time.