Stealing Christmas

by Tegan Maher

  "Oh yeah," he said, tilting his head sideways and examining us. "Cori Sloane and Alexander Dixon. Of course. Come on in. We need all hands on deck if we're going to save Christmas."

  Startled that he knew our names, I just stood there.

  He smiled. "Of course I know your names. I know everybody's names. At least everybody's in this realm."

  Alex stepped forward. "What do you mean, this realm?"

  Chaos huffed. "That's the problem with most people. Shame on you, Alex. I never took you as the close-minded type. We're just one of many planes. You have us, then you have the faerie realm, the dragon realm, the upside-down realm ... we're not the only people in existence by a long shot. Then you have to consider the possibilities of a multiverse—"

  Destiny held up a hand and smiled. "Go easy on him, girlfriend," she said. "It's not like he's used to this. After all, backwoods Georgia isn't exactly a premier vacation destination for famous people or creatures who have a hard time fitting in."

  Santa cocked a brow and huffed a breath out through his nose. "Don't I know it. I had to stop landing in wooded areas because poor Vixen almost became stew meat a hundred years ago or so. Now we stick to rooftops only. Makes it a pain because we have to house-hop, but it beats getting shot at. To be fair, though, that's pretty much all of rural America. I write it off to the popularity of eggnog and all the bourbon distilleries."

  I coughed, because I could name a dozen people right off the top of my head who'd be messed up enough on Christmas Eve to take a pot-shot at a reindeer thinking it was a big buck. That wasn't what we needed to be focusing on, though. The cop in me pulled me back to the topic at hand.

  "Okay," I said, "we can take time to bemoan bad decisions made under the influence of cheap whiskey later, after we find the hat." I turned to—I could barely bring myself to even think the name in a real-life setting, but apparently this was my new reality—Santa and Mrs. Clause. "Santa ... err ... Mr. Claus—"

  He waved a hand. "Just call me Nick. And this is Carol. You're gonna be helping us, so the least you can do is call us by our first names. Besides, we're incognito. You go throwing around our real names and we’ll be mobbed."

  The elegant woman gave me a regal nod.

  Great. I suppose if I had to pick a list of famous people to be on a first-name basis with, Santa Claus wasn't a bad start. "Okay then, Nick. First, give me the low-down on the hat. I didn't realize it had magical significance."

  "Of course it does," Carol said, looking at me like I was a few donuts shy of a dozen. "It's Santa's hat, after all. It's embodies the spirit of Christmas. Think about it. What's the number one common denominator at Christmas parties, family dinners, shopping malls, and even workplaces at this time of year? The one thing you see at least one person wearing no matter where you go?"

  "A Santa hat," Alex said in wonder. "Almost everybody wears a Santa hat at some point during the season."

  Nick touched his nose and winked, and I swear there was an actual twinkle in his eye. "Bingo. My research indicates that just seeing a Santa hat increases Christmas spirit by 30 percent, with a 60 percent immediate spike. And my hat—the original Santa hat—is the source of the cheer all other hats carry."

  "Wait a minute," I said, reaching the limits of my open-mindedness. "Are you telling me Santa hats are actually magic? I don't know if I buy that or not."

  The Christmas excitement I'd felt when we'd first exited the portal was quickly fizzling into irritation that my vacation had been interrupted by some dude who may or may not be Santa Claus. I hadn't believed in him since I was eight, and I wasn't sure why I was so willing to drink the Kool-Aid now.

  Carol looked at me, panic etching her face. "We have to hurry, Nick. It's happening already."

  "What is?" Temmpest asked.

  "The Christmas spirit is decreasing." She motioned toward me with her head. "I can see it in her face. She's already starting to lose hers."

  Startled, I realized she was right, and I gave a little shake to push away the depressing feelings I'd been having. I loved Christmas.

  "Then we need to get started," I said. "Where and when was the last time you saw that hat?"

  "In the safe," he said. "Right before we went to the tiki bar for a peppermint-mocha martini."

  Carol snorted. "He had the martini. I had a rumrunner. We're on vacation after all."

  "A woman after my own heart," Alex said, then turned to Destiny. "Who all has access to this room?"

  She pursed her lips and thought for a minute. "Not many. Me, housekeeping, maintenance. Blake, who's the head of the resort."

  "That's it?" Alex said.

  Destiny nodded. "I'm assuming you didn't give anybody access, did you, Kris?"

  "Nope," he said, reaching out and pulling Carol to him. "Nobody. We didn't even tell the crew at the North Pole where we were going. It's been decades since Carol and I have taken a vacation with just the two of us. Once she finished the list and I checked it twice, we realized we'd finished up a whole week early. This is the first year we've done it using her new database. She's been working on it for the last decade and deserves this treat."

  She gave a small half smile. "Thanks, Kris. You deserve it, too. I know bringing new tech into the workshop wasn't easy for you."

  Kris pulled in a deep breath. "Now it may all have been for nothing. If the Christmas Spirit dies, nobody will care, anyway. We'll be too busy fighting madness and mayhem." He shuddered. "We simply can't let that happen."

  "Wait," I said, thinking he was being a bit dramatic. "Madness and mayhem? Surely it's not that bad."

  Carol looked at me over the rims of her glasses. "Honey, it's only a few days 'til Christmas. Christmas Spirit is all that's standing between every person in every mall and Walmart around the globe, keeping them from killing each other. The little old ladies that fight over the last toy that every kid just has to have? The harried mother of four who waits in line for ten minutes for a coffee, just to have somebody jump in the line ahead of her? Or how about the store employee who's been yelled at fifty times because little Johnny just has to have a toy, but the store is out. What do you think keeps those people smiling?"

  I knew the feeling well. The season carried with it a ton of extra stress, but there was also a heaping dose of cheer and good will, or Christmas Spirit I supposed, that carried most of us through the crazy.

  She must have read the understanding on my face. "Yes," she said, nodding. "If you suck the annual happiness and peace on earth goodwill out of the insanity of finding the perfect gift or just get through the day, there's nothing left but irritation, anger, and impatience. All hell will break loose."

  The reality of what she was saying sank in. We needed to find that hat.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  "WELL," SAID TEMPEST. "We only have three days, but thankfully, we have three witches here right now. We'll just do a locating spell."

  Kris was shaking his head before the words were even out. "It won't work. The hat has its own magic that prevents it. Imagine if just any ole person could do such a simple spell. Or worse yet, use a summoning spell to steal it. Nope, the hat is impervious to any type of magic other than its own."

  "That's gonna make it harder," Destiny said, examining the safe, "but it's here, probably still in the hotel. We have some pretty powerful anti-theft spells, not to mention Margo."

  "Who's Margo?" I asked. I'd never heard Destiny mention her.

  "Margo's the sphinx that guards the front entrance to the hotel. Most people think she's just there for the grandeur, but she's one of our best security measures. She knows the heart of every person who walks past her."

  "Then what are we waiting for?" Carol asked, striding toward the door. "Let's go talk to this Margo."

  Alex held up a hand. "No, no. You guys worked hard to finish up early enough to take this vacation. You relax and let us find it."

  Kris glanced at Carol, helplessness and indecision on his face.

  She came back from the door
and laid her hand on his arm. "They're right, honey. This isn't our forte. And I worry about you. You need the break before the madness of Christmas eve." She gave him a wistful smile. "We're not getting any younger, and you've been stressed more than usual lately. Let's let them do what they do."

  He kissed her on the cheek, then turned to us. "I have been stressed. The Christmas Spirit is much harder to keep going, what with families being separated by distance and silly spats and money. It doesn't help that people seem to believe that presents can replace presence."

  He put the homonyms in air quotes, and I couldn't help but think he was on to something. What did you do if you missed a date? Send flowers. What if you hurt a friend's feelings? Send a gift. What do parents do when they can't be there for their kids? Buy them video games and cell phones. It was hard to find anybody who actually gave something with no ulterior motive.

  In short, the art of giving had been commercialized and perverted to the point that the simple joy of the act itself was lost eleven months out of twelve. And now, the spirit that brought that back once a year was threatened. My resolve strengthened. "You go enjoy your vacation with Carol, Nick. We'll have that hat back to you in two shakes of Rudolph's tail."

  Mrs. Claus took his hand and led him from the room. He glanced back over his shoulder once, but otherwise went without a fuss.

  Once they were gone, I turned to Destiny, my eyes narrowed a bit. "So what about this Blake guy? Isn't he the one who cheated on you? Do you think he woulda taken the hat?"

  She shook her head even before I was done speaking. "No. You can cross him off your list. He's solid, and I trust him. Plus, if he had any more Christmas Spirit, he'd have to move to the North Pole. He loves everything about the season."

  Of course it wasn't gonna be that easy. "Then what about somebody in maintenance or housekeeping?" I asked.

  She shook her head again. "They have access to the room, but not the safes. The way it works is the safe is left unlocked, then the guest can either choose to use the preset house options—a fingerprint or pin number lock—or bespell the safe themselves, or both. Kris chose to lock his using his pin since his magic isn't the same as ours. We cautioned him against it and encouraged him to use his fingerprint, but he said he’d never given that to anybody and wasn’t about to start now." She looked thoughtful. "Still, the pin number should have been enough. Access to this floor is limited to guests only and we have so many security spells that it’s pretty much impossible for anybody to get up here by themselves."

  "What about the sphinx you mentioned?" Alex asked. "What can she tell us?"

  "Excellent question," Destiny said, smiling a little when he mentioned it. "Let's go ask her."

  "Ask her?" Alex said. "She talks?"

  "Oh, she more than talks. She's one of my best friends," Destiny replied. At first I thought it was strange, but the more I thought about it, it really wasn't. After all, my best friends were werewolves, witches, and a talking fox. Speaking of, the furry sisters had been awfully quiet. I turned to say something to them, but they were gone.

  "Where'd Tempest and Chaos go?" I asked.

  Destiny lifted a shoulder. "Hard to tell. They snuck out when we were convincing Kris to go with Carol."

  "Probably to find food," Alex said with a wry smile, then took a deep breath and stepped out of the room. "But they're big girls. They can take care of themselves. Let's find this hat so we can save Christmas, do our part toward promoting world peace, and bring happiness to children and adults all over the world."

  I cocked a brow at him. "You sound like a beauty pageant contestant."

  Destiny laughed. "He does a little, but it's good though. You need some levity in your life, and I think you've found just the guy. Plus, he’s right."

  He slung his arm over my shoulders. "See, your cousin thinks I'm good for you."

  "Don't let it go to your head there, slugger," she said, following us. "I’ll still beat you within an inch of your life if you hurt her. Now c'mon, let's go do all those do-gooder things you just mentioned. Maybe it'll earn me some Karma points to balance out those times when I wish some of my guests would get fleas in their privates or warts on their noses."

  CHAPTER FIVE

  WE WENT TO OUR SUITE long enough to drop off our bags. Destiny gave us the nickel tour and told us to put our suits on under our clothes, and a few minutes later, we were headed back downstairs to talk to the sphinx.

  As we walked through the lobby for the second time, I was awed all over again by the grandeur of the place. The holiday spirit was still alive and well there, at least. Lights, ribbon, and wreaths graced every storefront and even the slot machines visible in the casino had garlands and bows on them. Two sparking Christmas trees flanked the front entrance, and each of them must have been twenty feet tall. All sorts of people were rushing through the lobby, playing games in the casino, or shopping at one of the boutiques. Though there were all different races and species, they all seemed to have one thing in common: their clothing, jewelry, or hairstyles all probably cost more than I made in a week.

  Though many of the guests were wearing beach attire, the staff members were all dressed in black dress slacks, white shirts, and ties, not a hair out of place. A few were sporting festive reindeer ears or flashing Christmas-bulb necklaces, but aside from that, the uniforms looked they'd suck to wear all the time.

  "I don't know how you do it, Destiny," I said. "I sling a jacket on over my jeans and tee shirt and that's about as dressy as I get. Getting dressed up like that just to go to work every day would kill me."

  She laughed. "That's why I work at the tiki bar. My uniform is pretty much whatever I decide to throw on for the day. Usually jean shorts, a resort polo, and crocs. I couldn't do it either. Though raking in the tips they do probably helps."

  I stopped and took a look at a menu framed on a wall outside the crowded restaurant situated right beside the massive glass front doors, and my jaw about hit the ground. "Dang, with these prices, even if somebody only tips 15 percent, they still have to be making a couple hundred a day."

  She nodded. "On a slow day. And there's no such thing as a tip that low. There's a 20 percent tip added to every check, and then a lot of times, people leave extra on top of it."

  I snorted. "With those prices, I think it's a good thing there's a kitchen in our suite. Is there a place to buy groceries here that won't break our meager piggy banks?"

  She waved a hand as she pushed through the double doors. "Sean covered all that when he booked the room, but I figured you'd want to go to Abaddon's Gate at some point to see Mila. We can do that in an afternoon after we get this settled."

  I shouldn't have been surprised, but I was also a little leery. Sean always had a plan. Sure, this may be exactly the no-strings-attached gift he claimed it to be. It was also possible he was banking goodwill for future use. Still, I'd take it for what it was—a much-needed getaway gift from a friend.

  The heat that slammed me in the face when we stepped outside was a surprise, but a pleasant one considering we'd come from twenty-degree weather. Whoever planned the layout of the resort had put some forethought into it because the only thing that obstructed the view of the ocean was a ginormous statue decorated around the base with ribbons, garland, lights, and bows. It took me until we were in front of it to realize it was the sphinx. I furrowed my brow when I looked up—and up—at her face, wondering how we were supposed to communicate with her.

  "Hey Margo," Destiny said. "How are you doin' today?"

  I skittered backwards instinctively when the sphinx's giant stone head shifted down and her lips lifted in a smile.

  "Hey Destiny," she replied. "I'm doing well. And you? Is this your cousin and her boyfriend you were telling me about?"

  Destiny nodded and made the introductions.

  "I'm happy to meet you," Margo said, her stone eyes strangely expressive, "but I sense you're not here just for pleasantries."

  My cousin heaved a sigh. "Unfortunately,
no. We've had a theft. Santa's hat was stolen."

  A trouble look settled onto Margo's face. "That's not good at all. Did he tell you what the hat's power is?"

  Destiny nodded. "He did. And we're hoping you sensed somebody with bad intentions so we have a place to start."

  She wrinkled her brow and I shielded my face as sand slid from her face. "Nothing that would weigh a person down like that. I've picked up on some mischief makers and angry feelings, but nothing that would indicate they'd stolen one of the most powerful magical artifacts in this realm."

  Wow. Hearing a sphinx place that much importance on it brought home just how big a deal this whole thing was.

  "Is it really as bad as that?" I asked, speaking up for the first time.

  "It is," she responded. "Especially this close to Christmas. Right now, it should be shining light into the hearts of even the most hardcore pessimists and draining anger from the bitterest of hearts. If it's not found quickly, the balance will be disrupted. The gods help us if that happens." She paused. "You know, I did pick up on an oddity, now that I think about it. There's an elf here that's wearing a glamour."

  "A glamour," Alex said, his tone flat.

  Margo turned toward him, more sand falling from her as she did. "It's not as unusual as you may think. We get many famous people here, and since I'm stuck in this position, I don't exactly watch much of that moving-picture device you all call a television. I don't recognize many faces, but that's not my job. My job is to recognize intentions, and his were all over the place. Anger, sadness, grief. I assumed he'd lost somebody, but since we're talking about Santa, a disgruntled elf is probably relevant."

  "What's his glamour?" I asked. If he were wearing a magical disguise, we could be looking for anything from a human to a centaur.

  "Nothing too complicated. He's still an elf, just wearing a different visage." She raised a brow. "Though I don't know why he bothers; the faint scent of peppermint mixed with cocoa is a dead giveaway that he’s from the North Pole, at least if you have a supernatural nose. He just passed here a bit ago," she said. "He was wandering in the direction of the tiki, so he may be there now."