Unholy Night: A Paranormal Holiday Romance

by Karpov Kinrade

  “Santa makes the magic? All in one night?” Awe fills Mandy’s voice.

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Lucifer grunts. “He makes magic, but not all of it. Of course, he does contribute a great deal.” His voice is grudging as he adds that last part.

  “I’m sure a lot of magic is still alive because of you,” I say. Santa’s Village is one of the saddest things I’ve seen in a long time. But Hell? It’s full of magic.

  “Thank you, but fear is a lot stronger than pure belief.” His voice shifts just enough that I can tell he dislikes that fact. “It’s the reason I was asked to speak at the Summit,” he says. “My realm is one of the few that still has power.”

  “Your job is important.” I tighten my fingers in his and look at all the drifting lights around the trees--souls waiting to try again. “You are needed.”

  He stops walking and looks at me. Slowly, so slowly I can stop him if I want to--but I don’t, he raises our joined hands and presses a kiss to my knuckles. His lips are warm and gentle. Heat roars to life, flooding my body, but it’s the gratitude in his eyes that makes my heart thump loudly.

  “Thank you.” His husky voice makes me want to lean into him, for him to let go of my hand and wrap his arm around me instead. I don’t trust myself to speak, so I smile instead.

  “Whoa,” Mandy whispers and takes a step closer to us.

  I look up and immediately understand why Mandy is nervous. A… horde… of demons are advancing in our direction. As different as the three demons we met earlier, all of these differ in many ways. Some are huge, with horns the size of elephant trunks. Some walk on four feet or have three arms. They come in every variety of color you can imagine and have entirely unique body shapes and sizes.

  “Don’t worry. These are my friends.” Lucifer releases my hands and wraps his arms around Mandy’s shoulders. “They will never hurt you.”

  In fact, as they get closer, I realize they seem nervous. Some of the demons are whispering amongst themselves and pointing at Mandy. A few throw looks in my direction, curiosity evident, but it’s definitely Mandy who holds their attention.

  “Why are they all looking at me?” Mandy asks, a slight tremor in her voice.

  “They’ve never seen a child before,” Lucifer replies.

  I look up at him in surprise. I shouldn’t be surprised. Of course there are no children in Hell. Not with someone like Lucifer in charge.

  “Are they scared of me?” Mandy cocks her head back so she can see his face. “Some of them look scared.”

  “Hm. Remember when you met Dan?” Mandy nods her head. “He was different, so you were scared.”

  “But I’m not scary! I’m nice!” Mandy looks shocked.

  “And so is Dan, but you didn’t know that at first.” He pats her head. “They just need to get to know you.”

  A couple of demons edge a little closer, curious but cautious. Mandy contemplates them for a minute before putting on her brightest smile and waving.

  “Hi! I’m Mandy!”

  A few of them flinch at her loud voice and several more make sounds similar to chuckles. One of the demons walking on four legs lumbers closer and takes a sniff of Mandy’s outstretched hand.

  “See? I’m nice!” She steps out of the circle of Lucifer's arms and holds her other hand out to another demon. “We can be friends!”

  My mom instincts are screaming that I should grab Mandy and run, but the fond look on Lucifer's face weighs against those and I take a deep breath. Instead of grabbing my daughter, I step forward and offer my hands as well.

  “Hi, I’m Lyla.” A small, green demon the size of a cantaloupe walks forward and looks at me with three big eyes. “What’s your name?”

  “Gurch.” I’m not sure if he answered my question or burped, but I’m going to roll with it.

  “It’s nice to meet you.”

  Gurch scrambles closer, his little feet moving quickly, and takes a deep sniff. Before I know what’s happening, he’s scrambling up my side and sitting on my shoulder. The smell of sulphur is stronger with him so close, but not overwhelmingly so. I’ll take this over peppermint any day.

  A deep growl reverberates from Lucifer and I look to see him glaring at the tiny demon.

  “I’m going to stuff stockings.” Gurch apparently isn’t worried about Lucifer. “You smell interesting.”

  “Thank you, I think?” I can’t really look at the little demon since he’s on my shoulder and others are starting to find their courage.

  “It is good. It is a good change.” I feel his little hand clutch onto my ear and I turn my head. “They’re not used to it. The smell. It’s sweet.”

  “Oh, I guess we still smell like peppermint.” I grimace.

  “No, no. Not that. Happy. You smell happy.” Gurch leans close and whispers. “And so does Master.”

  I look at Lucifer. He’s standing next to Mandy, making sure she’s not overwhelmed. His smile is so bright it’s almost blinding.

  “Is he not usually happy?” I whisper back to Gurch as another demon grabs my hand and shakes it vigorously. “Nice to meet you, too.”

  “No. Not for Gurch to say.” The little green demon moves so I can just barely see him out of the corner of my eye. “Stay. Stay and Master will be happy.”

  I don’t respond to that. What can I say? I’m mortal? I have a daughter to raise? We have to go back to our depressing and increasingly more difficult life. And that’s a sad, sad thought. It’s not like we can stay even if we want to.

  And Lucifer hasn’t said anything about us staying. Why would we? I shake my head as if that will clear it of thoughts. We just need to get through tonight.

  “It’s okay.” Gurch pats my ear as another demon steps forward. “It will be well. Tonight, you help Gurch with the stockings. Fuchsia says we must make magic.”

  “That’s right.” I shake a scaly hand with red claws.

  “I have plan. You look it over.” Gurch jumps down from my shoulder and looks up at me. “Come. Come.” He beckons toward the palace.

  “But…” I look at Mandy and Lucifer.

  “Do you trust me, Lyla?” He steps closer and reaches for my hand. It’s the same thing he asked Mandy. Do I trust him? Trust is so much harder for me. I’ve been burned, badly. When I was younger, trust cost nothing, I gave it freely without thought, expecting everyone to treat me the way I would treat them. Boy did I learn my lessons the hard way.

  But standing here, in Hell, holding Lucifer’s hand, surrounded by demons, I feel that dim light grow in my chest. Do I trust the way I did when I was younger? No. But I do trust this man. This angel. The Master of Hell.

  “Yes.” I reach up with my free hand and place it over his heart. “I trust you, Lucifer.”

  He covers my hand with his and leans down until our foreheads meet. “Thank you.”

  The emotion in those words reach deep into my soul and heal some of the cracks. I close my eyes and inhale softly. He has a spicy scent and the faint smell of campfire smoke.

  He pulls away, but dips his head and brushes his lips across my cheek bone. “If we didn’t have an audience, I’d be kissing you until you forgot where you began and I ended. I know what offering your trust means to you.”

  I suck in a breath. I really, really, really want to kiss him. But he’s right, now isn’t the time. Lucifer steps back as if putting distance between us will help. I realize Mandy is watching us with wide eyes. Not sure what to expect, I’m surprised when she hides a giggle behind her hand and turns back to her newly made demon friends.

  “Trust me and I will keep Mandy with me while you assist Gurch. He knows more English than most of the others.” He lets go of my hand and takes another step back as if having trouble distancing himself from me. “We will make some much needed alterations to the sleigh while you get organized.”

  I swallow. “Okay.”

  He takes another step back with a small smile. “I think you should leave first. I’m not making much progres
s.”

  His words break the tension between us and I laugh. “I think you just want to watch me walk away in this suit.”

  “I hate for you to leave, but I do think I’ll enjoy the view.” He winks.

  My laugh grows louder and some of the demons look at us curiously.

  “Mandy,” I wave her over. “I’m going to the castle with Gurch to work on the list. Mr. Lucifer wants your help here. Is that okay?”

  Mandy nods. “Do I get to paint the sleigh?” She points to some demons carrying canisters and brushes.

  “You listen to Mr. Lucifer and if you’re not sure about something, you ask him, okay?”

  “Yes, Mommy.” She grabs my waist in a quick hug and then disappears into the milling demons.

  “Then, I guess I’m gone.” I look back at Lucifer who is still watching. I give him a coy little wave before turning and walking to where Gurch is waiting for me. And if I put a little extra sway into my walk, who can blame me?

  10

  Lucifer

  “We need elf outfits,” Mandy says, pulling my attention from the sway of Lyla’s hips, and all the naughty thoughts it brings like a blaze of fire in my core.

  “Elf outfits?” I ask, forcing my attention away from that deliciously indecent bodysuit to the child before me. “Who needs them?”

  She waves her hand to gesture to the demons around us. “Them. If you’re Satan Claus, then they have to be your demon elves.”

  I chuckle. “Satan Claus? Did you come up with that?”

  She grins. “Yup. It just makes sense. Santa. Satan. Anyway, can we get them outfits?”

  “Um…” I struggle to find the words. I could magic some up, but that seems like a waste of time. “I don’t really keep a pile of elf costumes in my closet. I’m not sure--”

  But before I can finish making my lame excuses, I’m cut off by Tzul, who is standing a respectful distance away from us holding a can of pitch black paint. “Master, we already discussed the matter amongst ourselves while you were gone and, well… Marlix made everyone outfits, if you don’t mind us wearing them?”

  Mandy frowns and looks at me. “What language is he speaking? It sounds weird. Not like words at all.”

  “It’s the language of demons,” I say as I relay what he told me.

  She grins. “That’s wonderful! So he understands me but can’t speak English?” she asks.

  Clever girl. “Yes, some of them have better comprehension than others.”

  I can practically hear the wheels turning in her sharp mind, and she reminds me so much of Lyla, of her mother’s curiosity and intelligence, her quick wit and kind heart. A rare combination in any realm.

  Especially rare here.

  “Won’t Santa be mad we’re painting his sled?” Mandy asks, in a mildly surprising non-sequitur.

  I look to Tzul first and give a curt nod. “Tell everyone they can change into whatever Marlix made. But then hustle. Mandy will need to sleep eventually.”

  Mandy raises an eyebrow. “You underestimate a kid on Christmas Eve,” she says, deadpan.

  I burst out laughing, the sound coming from my gut in a full-bodied way that is far too infrequent in my existence.

  “If you say so, short stuff,” I say, ruffling the hat on her head.

  She giggles and picks up a paint brush Tzul left behind. “I like painting,” she declares.

  “So do I,” I tell her as I pick up my own brush. “Let’s start with the doors.”

  We each dip our brushes into the blackest ink in existence. “I had an artist from your Earth make this,” I tell her as we work. “He had the right spirit. Wanted to stick it to another artist who was hoarding the pigments he created. So my guy was determined to make the blackest black ever for everyone in the world except his rival. And I gave him just the secret ingredient he needed to create it.”

  Mandy looks at me blankly then just shakes her head and returns to painting the sleigh. “Grown ups are so weird. Getting mad about whose black paint is the blackest? Just weird.”

  I frown. “Well, when you put it like that.”

  We work in silence for a time, before she turns to me. “You didn’t answer my question. Won’t Santa be mad you painted his sled the blackest black ever?”

  “Do you think he will be?” I ask.

  She shrugs. “I would be.”

  “Then why are you doing it?” I ask.

  She purses her lips in a miniature version of the exact same expression Lyla makes when she’s thinking.

  “Santa quit his job on Christmas Eve. Mommy always says you should treat people not just how you want to be treated but how they want to be treated,” she says thoughtfully. “Santa treated the whole world meanly. That’s not nice. And he said you should do his job for him right?”

  I nod. “That’s right.”

  “Well,” she frowns. “That means you need his stuff if you’re gonna do his job. Right?”

  I nod again. “One could argue that, yes.” Mandy is truly a child after my own heart.

  She shrugs. “So that’s why I’m doing it. It’s part of the deal. If you’re going to do his job, then you should do it your own way.”

  I beam at her logic as we finish up the sled. “You could teach my demons a thing or two.”

  She grins. “Oh my gosh, how fun would that be?”

  “The most fun,” I agree.

  The paint dries fast, courtesy of my special ingredient. Demonic sulphur. Does wonders for the depth in the black hole-like pigment, and dries nearly instantly. So the sleigh is done by the time Tzul and their two assistants return.

  And they are indeed dressed as elves. Or...some version of elves. With red and white stripes that look like blood splatter, and a garish hat that almost looks elvish but lands just left of it, in much darker territory. Though I hesitate, Mandy does not. She’s exuberant.

  “Oh my gosh! You all look so cute! I love it.” She squeals and looks to me. “Any chance I can change into one of these? I like theirs better.”

  Tzul looks ready to explode with excitement. I hope he doesn’t. It was such a mess to clean up last time.

  “Oh yes, Master, may she? We have an extra. The perfect fit.” Which obviously means they’ve been hoping for this exact reaction. They are already in love with the child.

  Will they pine for her once she goes home? Or will they cherish this memory as I will? Though, I’m starting to think I’m going to do both. Which is not very good for my dignity.

  “Fine. You two have worn me down. But only if you’re sure your mother won’t mind,” I say, vaguely wondering if I should wait to ask Lyla, but then deciding this can’t be that consequential, can it? It’s just an outfit. Both costumes are ridiculous, anyway.

  And Mandy and Tzul are too excited to change my mind now.

  Tzul scrambles away then returns with said outfit. So fast I’m certain this was the plan all along, but he clutches his air of innocence as he hands Mandy the clothing. And really, it’s an amazing thing to see a demon with such an innocent expression. She looks around for a place to change and I direct her to the office near the barn. With full plumbing, I might add. After all, I am not the one here to be punished.

  I cut Tzul a glare at his deception, but when he smiles sheepishly I can’t maintain it.

  “The pretty lady makes you smell nice, Master,” the demon says suddenly.

  “I…” I feel momentarily rattled, but this won’t do at all. “Nonsense. I am the King of Hell. I am not meant to smell… nice.”

  I expect my tone to intimidate the defiant demon, but he just smirks knowingly. “Sure thing, Master. Whatever you say.”

  I growl and turn away from him just as Mandy returns. She’s skipping back through the trees, surrounded by a different set of demons. Good grief, they’re flocking to her now.

  I smile when I see her and she gives a little spin, looking like a goth elf going through a dark phase. “You make it work,” I tell her.

  She giggles, then walks ov
er to admire the sleigh with Tzul by her side. “I feel like if I touch this I’ll fall through space,” she says, and I know the artist will enjoy hearing those words, when next we speak.

  “It’s missing something, though,” she says.

  “What’s that?”

  She looks up at me, her big blue eyes red-rimmed, a sure sign of the encroaching sleepiness. “We still need reindeer.”

  “I don’t have any,” I say, “but I have something even better. Come, let me show you.”

  Mandy shakes her head. “First, you need to get your costume on.” She’s very solemn and serious as she says this, and though I have no intention of dressing like that overgrown elf, I find I can’t say no as Tzul walks over and hands me a bag. “For you, Master.”

  He even bows.

  How are these two plotting against me when they don’t even speak the same language?

  As if the child can read my mind, she grins. “I’m using Pictionary to communicate with Tzul,” she says. “I talk and he draws pictures. I’ve already learned some Demon. Wanna hear?”

  Before I have a chance to reply, she makes some sounds that do sound vaguely like Demon in a rusty accent. “You like cookies with butter?” I say with a smile.

  She frowns. “Milk. How do you say milk?”

  Tzul makes the appropriate sound and Mandy repeats him, then beams with her progress. “I’ll be fluent in no time. I wonder if there’s an app that teaches Demon?”

  I chuckle. “I’ll look into it.”

  I shake my head, staring at the bag of clothes in my hands, then with a flick of my wrist I summon a whirl of black smoke and when the smoke fades I’m standing in my demonized version of a Santa outfit. Black and silver and white, with the traditional hat to top it off. In black too of course. I’m not dressing in all red, not even for Mandy. I don’t need to look like a giant bloodstain.

  “Much better,” she says, slipping her tiny hand into mine. “Now, about the reindeer?”

  I guide her across the field and through the narrow stand of trees to a large barn, built of gray stone rather than wood. Wood isn’t advisable when the occupying animals can occasionally shit flaming embers. One bad case of bowels and the whole thing would go up in a blaze.