Magic & Mistletoe: 15 Paranormal Stories for the Holidays

by Aimee Easterling

  “But how, the police...”

  “Were easily dissuaded from further pursuit,” she replied with a predatory grin.

  I decided I didn’t want to know as I slipped my shoes on and tried to figure out what the fuck to do. “That was...”

  “Delightful?” she squealed. “Yes, if a little chaotic. The cattle here are very given to panicked stampeding. You should work on remedying that.”

  “Yeah, I’ll get right on it.”

  “Excellent,” she replied. “Now I believe there was a magical tree you wished to show me.”

  “Pick up the fucking phone, Sally!”

  I swear to God I was gonna wring her fucking neck. A single murder in New York City was one thing. Hell, people as a whole were kinda dumb. Even with dozens of witnesses, there was a good chance half of them would describe Gan as a towering tattooed biker.

  Knocking down the fucking tree in Rockefeller Center, however, was a whole other ordeal. Christ! Half the news anchors in the city were probably creaming their pants in a race to report it.

  The only saving grace on our side was there weren’t going to be too many who were willing to risk their reputations to place the blame on a petite preteen girl. Sadly, I had a feeling I wasn’t out of the woods yet, especially once the higher ups in the vampire food chain learned of it.

  “What the fuck were you thinking?” I yelled at Gan, as we raced against the crowd all heading uptown to see what had just happened.

  “I was saving this city,” she replied, sliding through the sea of people much more adeptly than me.

  “How? By destroying a major landmark.” I looked up and saw someone gawking my way. “Fuck off, buddy, it’s just a figure of speech!”

  “Yes,” Gan replied unperturbed. “If that tree was filled with as much magic as you claimed, then it was a danger. I need not remind you, our ancient enemies, the Alma, can utilize the trees to their advantage. Placing such an artifact here is foolish, my love.”

  By that point we were about a dozen short blocks south of the incident, pretty close to Herald Square. It was probably best to get off the street and find a crowd to lose ourselves in until I could get her ass on a plane headed out of the country. I grabbed hold of her arm and steered us toward the Manhattan Mall. “It wasn’t real magic!”

  “Oh?”

  “No. I just meant Christmas magic. It’s a figurative saying. Goodwill, joy, and shit like that.”

  “If you did not mean actual magic, my love, then you should not have implied such. It is foolish to impart such significance upon...”

  I tuned her out and turned to my phone again, this time to shoot a couple of texts off to my roommates since it appeared Sally had me on ignore.

  After a few minutes, I got a response from Ed.

  Is she gone yet?

  I typed out a long ass message as to what was happening, to which he replied: Sorry, this number is no longer in service.

  Goddamn it! Is it my destiny to be surrounded by assholes? Fuck it all. We weren’t too far away from my coven’s territory. The vamps under my charge wouldn’t be happy to see Gan again, but right then I didn’t give one flying shit what they thought. At the very least, I could conscript a few of them for babysitting duty until I could figure something out.

  “Come on, Gan, we’re going to...Gan?” I looked up to find her gone.

  The hell? Was she off taking an Orange Julius break or something? I scanned the crowd, but couldn’t see her. The mall wasn’t nearly as busy as it should have been—no doubt word of what happened uptown was spreading—but there were still more than enough people to obscure my view of a munchkin-sized serial killer.

  I was tempted to shout her name, but decided I really didn’t want to bring attention to myself. Being at the scene of two horrendous crimes in one evening can do that to a fella.

  So then how...? Duh! Sometimes I forgot I was a vampire, with enhanced vampire senses. One didn’t need to shout when one had the olfactory capabilities of Wolverine.

  Despite the myriad scents present, vamps were kinda like sharks. There was one scent we could pick up above all others. While she hadn’t, thankfully, bathed in that poor sap’s blood at the ice skating rink, Gan had gotten enough on her to allow me to pick up a faint scent of it leading further into the mall. I could track her so long as she didn’t leave the building. If that happened, I’d have fuck all chance of finding her again.

  It wasn’t easy, though. Gan was fast, agile, and apparently curious, as her scent led me on a merry chase through random stores. I guess when one lived their life in a desert hut, something like a shopping mall could be a source of interest. Go figure.

  Sadly, thanks to her New York inspired ADD, after a while it felt like I was walking around in circles.

  I was just about to give up hope when a shrill cry caught my attention. “Hey! No cutting! I’m telling my mom!”

  I looked toward the source, not thinking much of it. It was probably just some brat in need of a swift kick to the...

  Oh, no!

  Not that!

  There, hanging before me, was a sign proclaiming, in glittery red and green letters, Come Meet Santa Claus, the Jolly Old Elf.

  Around this time of year, the line to meet any generic mall Santa would normally be around the fucking block. However, thanks to our earlier escapades, the current wait was quite reasonable...only a few diehard parents whose crotch fruit would not be dissuaded by little things like a hundred-foot tree falling over in midtown.

  I pushed my way through some mall loiterers just in time to watch Santa Claus lift Gan up and place her on his lap. The look on her face said she wasn’t pleased at being manhandled, but that was all. There was still time to keep this from going tits up.

  “Excuse me,” I said, trying to push my way forward.

  “What do you want for Christmas, little girl?” Mall Santa asked in a bored voice, easily discernible to my vamp-enhanced ears.

  “I do not understand why that is any of your concern,” Gan replied.

  “Pardon me. Coming through...”

  Two mall cops dressed like Christmas elves stepped in front of me. One of them put his hand on my shoulder. “Wait your turn, buddy.”

  “You don’t understand. She’s a fucking killer.” Even as the words left my mouth, I realized I should have gone with something a bit more subtle.

  One of the two glanced back to where Gan sat then raised an eyebrow at me. “Hitting the eggnog a little hard tonight, aren’t we?”

  “Come on, kid,” Santa said from behind them. “Just tell me what you want.”

  “Very well. I wish to watch my beloved drown our enemies in a sea of blood.”

  Oh, boy.

  “Go sleep it off somewhere, pal,” the other mall cop told me. “Don’t make us call the fucking cops.”

  I was stuck on what to do. I could easily power my way past these two, but then what? Explain to the NYPD how vampires were the cause of all the shit happening in town tonight? Yeah, that would go over well.

  “Whatever,” Mall Santa replied, sounding like he’d rather be anywhere else. “Maybe I’ll bring you a Barbie doll. How’s that sound? But you have to be a good girl. Otherwise you won’t get any...

  CRACK

  One didn’t need vampire ears to hear the sound of Santa’s neck snapping as Gan grabbed his head and twisted it a hundred and eighty degrees.

  Fuck my life!

  For a moment, all chatter in the immediate vicinity ceased as everyone processed what had just happened.

  “Do not presume authority over me, human,” Gan said calmly, as if discussing the weather.

  Sadly, that was all the calm we were getting. The shit hit the fan in the next moment. People started screaming, kids were shrieking, and the mall cops completely forgot about me as they turned to deal with the Grinch who snuffed Christmas.

  Security swarmed Gan from all sides, as total chaos erupted all around me. Half the crowd were trying to get away from the scene unfo
lding in front of them, while the other half were trying to push forward to gawk.

  Someone shouldered into me from behind, causing me to stumble and lose my footing. I hit the floor and then got to experience the greatest of Christmas joys—the miracle sensation of being trampled by my fellow New Yorkers.

  I was kicked, stomped, and pummeled. Finally, the heel of a stiletto came down right into my crotch and I cried out as stars exploded in front of my eyes. The sound of my voice was immediately drowned out, however, as a thunderous explosion rang out from somewhere close by.

  The fuck? That sounded like...

  Another gunshot was fired in close proximity, erasing all indecision from the crowd. They ran screaming from the source, who just so happened to be standing over me.

  I looked up to find Sally, standing there holding a massive handgun over her head, the barrel still smoking. She reached down and dragged me to my feet.

  “What say you grab your girlfriend over there and we get the fuck out of here?”

  It was the best plan I’d heard all day.

  Thankfully, the Manhattan Mall comes complete with a convenient subway station beneath it. Gan wasn’t too keen on running, especially from mall cops dressed as elves. I was half tempted to leave her ass, but chances were she’d cause a bloodbath if left to her own devices. Well, okay, more of a bloodbath. She was something even NYPD’s finest weren’t prepared to handle on short notice.

  Escaping into the subway tunnels wasn’t my idea of glamorous, but it beat being thrown in jail by a country mile. Even better, all of the coven-owned buildings in the city came equipped with sewer level entrances.

  About twenty minutes later we emerged in the heart of SoHo, beneath one of our properties lovingly nicknamed The Office. Sally was quick to get on the horn with the Boston prefecture, the vampire nation’s HQ in the Northeast. Though they weren’t going to be happy with us, they could pull some strings and make sure tonight’s events were blamed on terrorists, psychos, anyone but us.

  While she did that, I busied myself by having a nice chat with Gan.

  “What the fuck were you thinking?!”

  “The human was insolent. He was neither magical, nor an elf.”

  “Of course not! He was a mall Santa. Dude was probably making minimum wage at best to sit there and listen to kids whine on his lap.”

  “Then he should have considered his station in life before presuming to dictate terms to me.”

  Gah! It was all I could do to keep myself from decking her in the face, or trying to anyway.

  “Be that as it may, my love, I must thank you. This Christmas that your culture celebrates is most enlightening. I will be certain to order my servants to observe it on pain of death.”

  I was about to berate her that enforced seppuku was not in the holiday spirit when Sally stepped back in carrying a mug of something. How wonderful that she was calm enough for a coffee break. “Why the glum face?” she asked me. “There’s still more holiday cheer to be had.”

  What the? I narrowed my eyes toward her, certain she’d gone crazy. “Like what? Declaring hunting season on reindeer? Or maybe disemboweling the residents of Toyland?”

  “That does sound fascinating,” Gan said.

  Sally shook her head. “I was thinking more along the lines of mistletoe.”

  Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me.

  “Mistletoe?” Gan asked. “My love’s cattle mentioned that earlier. I do not understand what a parasitic plant species has to do with this celebration.”

  “It’s tradition,” Sally said before I could open my mouth. “You stand beneath it and give your one true love a kiss.”

  Gan’s eyes lit up as surely as if a flashlight had been shoved up her ass. Oh no. “You will bring us this mistletoe at once, whore.”

  If Sally was irked at what Gan called her, she didn’t show it. “I’d be happy to.” She turned, but then stopped. “Oh wait. Sorry, but you can’t use it.”

  “If you are daring to disobey, I will warn you...”

  “Nothing like that,” Sally quickly said. “It’s just that you can’t stand under the mistletoe until we raise a glass of eggnog and have a toast. Sorry, I don’t make the rules. I just follow them.”

  Her following rules? That was a good one. Albeit I didn’t find much humor at the moment, considering she was setting me up to swap spit with someone who looked like they belonged in junior high.

  “Procure me this nog of eggs at once,” Gan commanded.

  “I was just enjoying a glass myself. Not sure if I have any more, though. Maybe I can check in the back to see...”

  Fast as a snake, Gan swiped it from her hands. “I will tolerate no one else declaring my darling to be their true love, least of all you.”

  Sally backed up a step, as if acquiescing. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

  Gan, apparently satisfied at having pulled rank, guzzled down the eggnog, while I prepared to make a run for it. I was gauging my chances at surviving a headfirst fall out the window when she said, “An interesting flavor. It is as if one were to mix yak’s milk with rancid...”

  She trailed off and became silent.

  “Rancid what?” I asked after a beat.

  Instead of answering, the mug slipped from her fingers, drenching my shoes in the process. Before I could complain about it, though, she tipped forward and fell face-first onto the floor, landing with a satisfying thud.

  After a few more moments, in which Gan continued to lie there unmoving, Sally snapped her fingers. A door opened and several members of the coven entered, carrying with them a large wooden crate.

  As I watched, they lifted Gan’s unconscious form, placed her inside the box, and then proceeded to start nailing it shut.

  “The fuck?” I finally asked, totally gobsmacked.

  “Last time this happened,” Sally explained with a smile, “I made it a point to ask Nergui for some of that...what was it called, death worm poison or something...before he left. Bet you wish you and your meathead roommates had thought of that, eh?”

  I could only nod dumbly as the other vamps slapped a shipping label onto the box, one covered in what appeared to be Chinese lettering.

  Finally, realization that it was over began to sink in. “I could kiss you.”

  “Sorry,” Sally replied. “All out of eggnog. Oh yeah, and I don’t kiss guys who look like you.”

  I let the barb slide. She’d earned it.

  After a few more minutes of preparation, the box containing Gan was ready to go. The vamps lifted it and began carrying it to the door.

  “Hold up!” Sally called. She walked over to a nearby desk, pulled out a big red bow, and placed it atop the crate. “There! Now it’s ready.” She turned to me. “What do you think?”

  “Aw, and I didn’t get you anything.”

  She walked over and leaned her head against my shoulder. “Not true. You gave me the greatest gift of all.”

  “Friendship?”

  “No, laughter. Not to mention a paper trail of texts and voicemails in case I ever need to blackmail you again.” She lifted her head and smiled up at me. “Merry Christmas, Bill.”

  “Same to you,” I replied with a laugh, before turning toward the exit.

  “What are you up to now?” she called after me.

  “I think maybe I’ll go spread some more holiday cheer.”

  “Going to get shit-faced?”

  “Damn straight.”

  About the Author

  Rick Gualtieri lives alone in central New Jersey with only his wife, three kids, and countless pets to both keep him company and constantly plot against him. When he’s not busy monkey-clicking words, he can typically be found jealously guarding his collection of vintage Transformers from all who would seek to defile them.

  Defilers beware!

  Rick Gualtieri is the author of:

  Bill the Vampire (The Tome of Bill - 1)

  Scary Dead Things (The Tome of Bill - 2)

  The Mou
rning Woods (The Tome of Bill - 3)

  Holier Than Thou (The Tome of Bill - 4)

  Sunset Strip: A Tome Of Bill Series Companion

  Goddamned Freaky Monsters (The Tome of Bill - 5)

  Half A Prayer (The Tome of Bill - 6)

  The Wicked Dead (The Tome of Bill - 7)

  Shining Fury: A Tome Of Bill Series Companion

  The Tome of Bill Series: Volume One

  Bigfoot Hunters

  The Poptart Manifesto

  To contact Rick (with either undying praise or rude comments) please visit: www.rickgualtieri.com

  Heart of Ice

  An Underground Christmas Story

  Erin Bedford

  Heart of Ice © 2016 Erin Bedford

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Created with Vellum

  Celebration

  Children in the fae world were hard to come by. In fact, it had been twenty years since a child was born. Even longer since a royal child. So, it came as no surprise that when the Queen of the Seelie Court had a daughter the whole Underground would come out to rejoice.