Sugar, Spice, and Shifters: A Touch of Holiday Magic

by Élianne Adams

  He’d dedicated his life to his family, first his father and brothers and sisters, and then later his wife and sons. He’d spent so much time caring for them, he could admit he had little idea of what to do with himself.

  He looked out the window, the clouds heavy with snow that he had no doubt would soon come.

  Three days before Christmas was probably not the best time to start this new path, but then again there was no time like the present.

  He’d go to his cabin, enjoy the change of scenery as he decided what he wanted to do next. He felt his dragon pushing against his skin, wanting to unfurl. But, after another look out the window at the heavy clouds, he decided against flight. He’d drive, and then maybe, once the snow had fallen, he would shift, fly over the pristine, calm forest.

  Twenty minutes later, after having packed a small bag, he was ready to go.

  And as he walked toward his SUV, Ormr realized that he was as excited as he had been in a very long time about something he was doing just for himself.

  — — —

  It had been two hours since Sandra’s phone call to Ashley, and the drive had slowed to a crawl. The snow, which had seemed gentle at first, had started to come faster and seemed to be speeding up with each passing second.

  Sandra guessed she’d made it about thirty miles, but she couldn’t be sure. The snow was falling hard and heavy now, nearly whiting out her view. So she crept along, moving inch by inch, hoping she could make it the last bit of her drive before the roads completely iced over.

  Her car skidded, seeming to laugh at her for even having the thought, but she remembered her defensive driving and managed to keep herself from slamming on the brakes. Doing that could cause a spinout, and then she’d be in a world of trouble.

  So she slowed even more, and the snow began to fall faster. Eyes glued to the road, she reached to the passenger seat and groped for her cell phone.

  “Dammit!” she yelled when she remembered the phone had fallen between the seat and door.

  And then she remembered the not-small matter of who she was going to call.

  She didn’t know who to call, and she wasn’t precisely sure where she was anyway.

  Still, if she had her phone she could check the weather maps, maybe get some idea of what was coming up.

  She crept along a little bit longer, debating.

  Instinct told her to keep driving, but another part of her wanted her phone, said that she would need it at some point.

  She firmed her full lips into a thin line and knew that her forehead was wrinkled with the power of her thought.

  She hated to do it, but one way or another, she needed that phone. So slowly, and heart heavy, she pulled to the side of the road, barely able to recognize the shoulder of the road through the heavy snow that had fallen.

  Moving far enough over that she wouldn’t block the road should someone happen to come by, she put the car in Park and killed the engine. Then she unhooked her seat belt and leaned over the seat, grateful for her height.

  “Yes,” she exclaimed when her fingers brushed the phone.

  But her excitement was short-lived, for when she tried to close her fingers around the phone, she only pushed it farther between the seat and door.

  She reached again, then let out a frustrated yell when she couldn’t even feel it.

  She shifted and reclined the driver’s seat back far enough that she could maneuver around the steering wheel and got up on her knees.

  It was an uncomfortably tight fit.

  She’d told Ashley that she was tall, needed the legroom and seat space that the SUV she’d been eyeing would provide to accommodate her height and frame, but her daughter, ever the do-gooder, had insisted she get the compact hybrid that was good for the planet but less so for her legs and hips.

  “But you’re the fool who listened to her, Sandra,” she muttered as she tried to climb across the center console.

  She shook her head, laughing when she realized she’d been talking to herself. It was an old habit, one she’d had since she was a child, and it usually only came out when Sandra was particularly agitated.

  Like now, for example.

  One knee on the driver’s seat, the other on the passenger seat, she slipped her hand between the door and the seat, groping for the phone. She felt the edge, so close, yet so far away.

  She reached for a few seconds more, knowing that it was futile, but not yet willing to give up.

  She accepted it a few moments later, though, and then crouched, knees spread wide, head and shoulders bent so as not to bump the roof of the car, panting with the exertion of her effort.

  “Aha!” she said when inspiration struck.

  Crouching down farther, she reached for the seat-recline lever and pulled it back until the passenger seat had gone back as far as it could, hopeful that the change would give her space.

  Those hopes too were dashed when she again reached for the phone and instead found the plastic frame of the seat. It seemed that reclining the seat had actually buried the phone deeper.

  Sandra shook her head, doubt starting to creep in.

  But she hadn’t managed to carve out a place for herself and build a life for her daughter by being easily deterred, so, refocused, she crouched even lower, propping her head and shoulder against the car door and reaching down.

  No luck.

  She could feel the phone against her fingers, touch it, even, but touching it wasn’t going to cut it. She relaxed her stance and pressed her face against the car window, shivering at the first touch of the icy cold against her cheek.

  As she lay against the window, a fierce gust of wind shook the entire car, the sound howling through the tiny cracks and whistling through the interior like a storm. Then she looked out the window, saw that the snow had begun to fall even harder and faster.

  She had to get moving before the snow got too thick. So, grateful that Ashley had browbeaten her into those kickboxing classes, she made her way back to the driver’s seat and settled behind the wheel. Foot on the brake, she pushed the Start-Engine button, anxious to hear the engine roar to life.

  It didn’t.

  She looked at the button, brows furrowed, and then she pushed again.

  The engine gave a sad little shudder and then went completely quiet.

  She stared at the wheel even more quizzically, her mind not processing what was happening. Because surely she wasn’t sitting in her car in the middle of a snowstorm with her cell phone wedged beneath the passenger seat.

  No, that couldn’t be the case. Because if it were, she had no idea what she would do to get out of it, didn’t even know where to begin.

  She pushed the stupid Start button again, a stubborn little flame of hope sparking in her chest.

  That hope was quickly extinguished when the engine didn’t even make something that she could construe as an attempt to turn over.

  Okay, she said to herself, you can handle this. You’ll just get out of the car, go around to the other side, and get your phone. Two seconds. That’s all it’ll take.

  Another gust of wind shook the car, and Sandra decided not to tarry.

  She sat still for a moment and shoved her hands into thick gloves. Then she pulled her wool coat tight around her, happy that she hadn’t taken the time to remove it before she had set off, and pushed at the door. At first she didn’t think it would give, because the wind pushed back, doing its best to seal her in. But she heaved and pushed and the door flew open, letting in a huge gust of wind.

  She wasn’t even out of the car yet and the wind was rattling her bones.

  Deciding to make this quick, she got out and almost slipped on the quickly hardening ice. So, one hand on the car, the metal of the hood cold even through her thick winter gloves, she carefully, but as quickly as she could, picked her way around the vehicle.

  “Dammit!” she exclaimed when she pulled on the door.

  She’d forgotten to unlock it.

  A hot prick of tears burned a
t the back of Sandra’s eyes, but she gritted her teeth, partially to stop their chattering and partially to remind herself that she needed to get out of the situation, and staying calm was the only way to do so. And standing here feeling sorry for herself wouldn’t help her at all, so she made her way back around the car, hitting the Unlock button twice just to be sure before she made her way back around.

  The door opened with ease, the only thing that seemed to have gone right so far today, and, after pulling off a glove, Sandra bent and jammed her fingers underneath the seat, groping for the phone.

  When her fingers brushed against it, she didn’t cuss, deciding to save that energy to focus on retrieving it. Only minutes had passed, but they felt like hours as Sandra, bent at the waist, tried to push her hand down farther to grab the device.

  She stood up, her back groaning in protest at the awkward position, and then looked down.

  The slushy wetness on the side of the road greeted her, and she shivered just looking at it. But there was no other alternative. She could freeze to a Popsicle while swiping at the phone that she had no hope of retrieving, or she could get down on her knees and get the damn thing.

  So teeth still gritted, she lowered herself to the ground, crying out as the cold, icy water wet her jeans, leaving her knees soaking and the fabric around them heavy.

  It was an unpleasant feeling, more than unpleasant, but she ignored it and again grabbed for the phone.

  Yes!

  She closed her fingers around it, the cold fading as the metal and plastic of her phone in her hand filled her with relief.

  Clutching the phone tight against her chest, she carefully stood, moving with slow motions so that she didn’t slip on the ice. Then, knees dripping, she carefully picked her way around the car and settled in.

  Her knees were ice, soaking wet, and the wetness was rapidly spreading, but she was relieved. Of course heat would’ve helped, but right now she was grateful for what she had.

  That gratitude only increased when she pushed the Power button and the phone screen lit up. She smiled at the picture of her and Ashley, and then noticed the time, how dark it was for the hour on the phone’s display. She slid her finger across the screen, heard that familiar click, and then looked at the top left corner.

  “No fucking signal,” she whispered, not sure whether to laugh or cry or both.

  She stuck the phone against the window, then extended her arm out as far as she could around the cabin, desperately searching for a signal.

  Sure, this was a little off the beaten path, but they had to have cell phones here. They rented cabins on the Internet, for God’s sake.

  Biting back the panic that tried its hardest to well up, she moved the phone around the interior, reached high, lowered it, did everything she could think of to get a signal.

  When yet another gust of wind shook the car, Sandra knew she had no choice.

  She pushed the door open and stepped out, eyes glued to the screen as she waited for any sign of a signal.

  Arm extended as far as she could, she stepped slowly, carefully over the ice, moving her arm in whatever direction she could think of in hopes of catching some precious digital rays.

  And with each second that passed, her concern increased. She’d have to find a signal long enough to figure out who to call, and then she’d have to hope that they showed up and wait for them to.

  A bad situation any way she looked at it, and if she didn’t get a signal…

  No, she couldn’t think like that. She’d be okay no matter what.

  The hybrid car had come with a snazzy little emergency kit, and if Sandra remembered right, it had an emergency blanket, one of those thin foil ones that people used in blizzards and avalanches. And she always kept water and granola bars in the car, a habit left over from Ashley’s younger years. She could tough it out.

  There was no other choice.

  That thought fled her mind when a deep voice cut through the frigid air. “Do you need assistance?”

  FOUR

  “Argh!”

  Ormr watched the woman as she jumped and then let out a startled scream.

  She backed away from him, and when he saw her begin to fall, he moved quickly, wrapping an arm around her waist and catching her before she hit the ground.

  His arm around her solid waist, the curves of her body barely touching him was a good feeling, right, but Ormr couldn’t dwell on it because the woman was steadily trying to backpedal away.

  “Let me get you on your feet,” Ormr said, tightening his grip.

  “Let me go!” she exclaimed.

  She pushed at him, surprisingly strong, though not nearly strong enough to break away.

  “Be careful. There’s ice here.”

  Ormr frowned, wondering why he had said such a silly thing. Of course there was ice here; she was slipping on it this very moment.

  “Let me—”

  “Here,” Ormr said, pulling the woman upright and dropping his arm when he saw that she stood on her own two feet.

  Then he took a step back, confident that the space would make her feel better, and equally confident that he could close it again if necessary.

  The woman took a step of her own, putting even more distance between them as she eyed him suspiciously. “Where did you come from?”

  He inclined his head toward the vehicle parked behind hers.

  The woman looked from the car to him, expression confused, pretty eyes darkening. “How did you get so…?”

  “You seemed distracted,” Ormr said.

  “Obviously,” she snapped, and then she slammed her mouth closed, looking at him warily, though her suspicion did little to detract from her attractiveness.

  “As I said, do you need assistance?”

  The woman began to move in a subtle circle, and Ormr could tell she was trying to put herself between him and the car, instead of vice versa, as they stood now. “N-no. I’m fine…”

  “Is that why you’re out in this lovely weather?” Ormr asked as casually as he could muster.

  He was usually very attuned to human deception if not all of the nuances of human speech, but he doubted his dragon abilities were necessary to see that the woman was clearly in distress and clearly being deceptive about it.

  “I’m fine,” she said firmly.

  Ormr nodded. “Very well,” he said as he moved back toward the SUV.

  He deliberately turned his back to the woman, hoped that him doing so would give her some measure of comfort. She clearly had no intention of taking his assistance, and he equally had no intention of leaving her out here to freeze, but better to let her make that decision for herself. He’d only press the issue if necessary.

  So, moving much more slowly than came naturally to him, he worked his way back, waiting for her to say something.

  But she stayed stubbornly silent for so long that Ormr was tempted to stop and look back at her, and only didn’t because he knew she would not take kindly to it.

  When he reached the car, he stood for a moment, waiting.

  “Good day,” he said as he opened the door.

  He watched the woman from the corner of his eye, saw the light shiver that racked her curvaceous frame, saw the worry that furrowed her brow, and saw her internal battle playing out. He moved even slower, sticking one leg and then the other into the car, and then deliberately reaching for the door handle, wanting to give her every opportunity.

  “Wait…” she finally said when Ormr went to close the door.

  And it was about time, too. He hadn’t intended to indulge in this little charade much longer.

  “Yes?” he said as he again emerged from the vehicle.

  “My car…”

  “It won’t start?”

  She shook her head. “And I can’t get a signal on my cell phone.”

  “No. Not out here.”

  “Do you think maybe you could help me start it?” she asked, looking hopeful.

  “Probably. But it won’t matter. Th
e road is blocked in both directions.”

  Her eyes widened as her face fell, and Ormr thought he had never seen someone look so heartbroken.

  “How do you know?” she asked quietly a few moments later.

  “I saw. It is impassable behind us as well as ahead,” Ormr said.

  “So you mean we’re stuck here,” she said, her voice going ever so slightly higher.

  He shook his head, gave a faint smile. “Not at all.”

  “If the road is blocked, how do we get out?” she asked.

  He smiled a little brighter. “We fly.”

  FIVE

  Sandra looked at the man, thinking it was such a pity that one as handsome as him was insane.

  Of course, he didn’t look it.

  In fact, he looked completely in his right mind, like he hadn’t just made a ridiculous suggestion.

  He also looked completely unbothered by the snow that fell down almost sideways, landing on his dark hair and shoulders without eliciting so much as a shiver. His own relative ease made her realize she was even colder than she’d thought.

  Another snowflake landed on his ridiculously long lashes and seemed to melt on contact, though not before Sandra met his eyes. They were a luminous, rich brown that seemed to swirl with a variety of other colors and were currently pinned on her, unblinking, probing, and filling Sandra with an uncomfortably distracting warmth.

  She broke away and looked down to his strong jaw, the solid column of his neck, the broad shoulders that looked like they could carry the weight of the world. He was stunning, almost as gorgeous as he clearly was crazy.

  He’d startled her when he’d called out, but when she’d looked at him, she hadn’t sensed danger. But looks could be deceiving, and she’d planned to stay on her guard.

  Still, his statement that the road was blocked had been a crushing blow.

  And his suggestion that they would fly out was even worse.

  She inched closer to her car. She doubted it would provide her any protection from him; he looked strong enough to take her tiny vehicle apart piece by piece with his bare hands, but some protection was better than nothing.