Tangled in Tinsel

by Julia Mills

  “Needless to say, the other six sisters seriously miffed, but Santa was beyond appalled and ordered Cordelia banned from Christmas Village. Arguably upset, she went to her family for help, but instead found two Archangels who took her wings and banished her to live out eternity as a human.”

  “Wow, I had no clue Christmas carols were such a big deal.”

  “Dude, you are so outta touch,” Simon sighed before taking a sip of his coffee.

  “Or maybe it’s just that you are a super nerd who studies all the damn time.”

  “Guilty as charged,” Simon grinned, making Chance groan, “You don’t even know how to take an insult.”

  “Oh, I know how, I just chose to ignore yours.” Simon took another drink of java, sat his cup down and added, “So, do you want to know why I’m so freaked out that my friend and your mate, the quite fair Belle Silvers, has taken off to battle Cordelia or would you rather we sit here and argue?”

  Angry at himself for getting off track, Chance commanded, “Tell me, Apeman.”

  “I’ll ignore your taunt for now, but I promise retribution after this is all over.”

  “Whatever. Would you rather I call you Tarzan?”

  “My name is Simon, dipshit. Tarzan was a man who acted like a gorilla, I have the stones and the claws of a real silverback, Dragon Boy.” Simon held up his hand, shook his head once and with a look that made Chance wonder if he might have finally crossed the line with his friend, said, “Cordelia has spent the last sixty-four years perfecting her use of magic, mostly black, always scary, very icky, squirming bit of it designed to kill Santa and destroy Christmas.”

  “Holy Hell, Si. Why didn’t you lead with that?” Chance bellowed, slamming his mug onto the counter and racing towards the door. “Belle’s a Christmas Fairy – the VERY essence of the holiday. She’s gonna get her ass kicked, and I haven’t even gotten to kiss her yet.”

  Following him onto the front porch, Simon slammed the door and jumped onto the grass. “It’s my fault you spilt your coffee, and I was forced to give you a history lesson?”

  “No, of course not,” Chance snarled, jumping into the driver’s seat of his black F150. “But for future reference, always lead with the danger and death parts of the story. History lessons can wait.”

  “Understood.”

  Chapter Seven

  “I could’ve done a little hocus pocus and gotten us here just as quick, ya’ know. You don’t always have to be Miss Fairy-On-The-Spot. Especially after the quadruple shot expresso you practically poured down my throat when all I wanted to do was take a teensy-weensy little nap,” Lizzie complained as she fluffed her golden curls. “Now, I’m gonna be brushing fairy dust outta my hair until the Fourth of July.”

  “Sorry, I wasn’t willing to take a chance. You were still so loopy from that scrying spell. I know magic like that is hard to do. Hell, I couldn’t do it even if I had to. I just didn’t want to end up with my nose on my ass or my boobs on my back. Those would not be good looks for me.”

  “Well, I never,” Lizzie huffed, stamping her foot for added emphasis as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Like I’d ever let that happen,” she added with a scowl.

  “Then I guess you don’t remember Minnie Peppers’ Sweet Sixteen party.” Belle stopped adjusting her T-shirt after letting her wings retract into the tattoo-like markings on her back she’d had since birth to glare at her friend while mirroring Lizzie’s stance, including the crossed arms and ‘eat crap’ look. “Who was it that was showing off and trying to levitate the punch bowl, but instead dumped two gallons of icky, sticky red punch onto Bart Bradford’s head?” She couldn’t help but laugh as she remembered what a sight the star quarterback had been. If only they’d had the internet back then. “And let us not forget the pineapple slices sitting on top of his head and shoulders. Not only were they the color of rotten bologna after soaking in the horrible crimson concoction for a day-and-a-half, but they made Mr. Big-Man-On-Campus look like a circus clown.”

  “Sure, that was me, and I’m not likely to ever forget it since you bring it up at least once a year. Thanks for that, by the way. But, I was a helluva lot younger and still learning, and you know it, dadgummit. I’m so much better now,” Lizzie huffed and puffed, her cheeks turning almost the same color of red that the crappy punch had been as she continued to defend herself. “And besides, little Miss Know-It-All, I ended up dating Bart for nearly a year and a half and got to spend Samhain on his parent’s yacht.”

  “Oh yeah, what a great holiday that turned out to be. You fell overboard, punched a hole in the inflatable life raft and got all splotchy after eating shellfish.”

  “And you had to rescue me with your Granddad’s fairy potion.”

  “Yep, then we sat on the roof, ate cheese doodles, drank soda and had a burping contest,” Belle winked as she laughed out loud while watching Lizzie bite the inside of her cheeks to keep from smiling. Knowing exactly what to do to make her friend give up the fight and have a little fun, despite what they were about to do, the fairy took a deep breath and burped, “Smile, Lizzie. You’re on Pixie Dust TV.”

  Laughing so hard she snorted, Lizzie relented, “No more. You win. I still can’t believe how much like a drunken sailor you sound when you do that.”

  “And don’t you forget it,” Belle burped before giving in to her own fit of the giggles.

  Nearly a full minute later, when both women were finally able to take a breath and speak, Lizzie asked, “So, which way to Crazy Cordelia’s house?”

  Pointing over her shoulder with a flick of her thumb, Belle grimaced, “That way about three and a half miles or so.”

  “Could you have landed any farther away?”

  “Sure could’ve, but I thought this was far enough that the demented angel wouldn’t be able to sense us coming and turn us into charcoal before we even got started.” Turning as her friend closed the distance between them, Belle bumped shoulders with Lizzie and added, “Make sense, Sassy Pants?”

  Throwing her hands in the air as she marched past, the witch groaned, “I should’ve guessed. Nothing is ever easy with you Christmas Folk.”

  “Doncha just love us?” Belle chuckled.

  “I reserve the right to answer that question at a later date.”

  Walking through the snow-covered forest was nice. Belle had forgotten how beautiful it was outside their little town. The scent of pine and holly filled the air. The bite of the cool breeze on her cheeks, and the way her boots crunched over the thin layer of snow covering the fallen leaves and grass, made her remember why she was so lucky to have been born on Christmas Day.

  Listening with one ear while Lizzie, who preferred the sun and sand, complained about her cold toes, freezing fingers and generally every twig and leaf they passed, the fairy couldn’t help but think about the dragon who’d saved her heinie from certain demise the day before. The good Goddess knew he was sexy as all get out, with muscles that begged to be adored and a voice that…well…that just made Belle feel like she had a cup of warm cocoa in her hands, was sitting beside a fire and relaxing under the flannel quilt her granny had made when the Christmas Fairy was no bigger than a Petal Pixie.

  “When you meet the one the Universe has made for you, my sweet girl, you will know him at first sight. He will make your wings tingle, your fairy dust sparkle, and your heart sing. You never have to fear. The Goddess will bring him to you when the time is right.” Granny Cookie’s voice floated through Belle’s mind. “I just can’t wait to see you settled and to meet my great-grandchildren.”

  But no one had ever prepared her for the chance that her mate would or could be anything other than another fairy. Maybe the Universe had made a mistake. Maybe the wires got crossed somewhere between wherever the Goddess lived and Belle’s reality.

  There was no way a Christmas Fairy could be mated to a dragon, not even a sexy, hunk of Alpha goodness and one of the elite Guardsmen. But, then again, he was… and she did… and…

  Re
ady to admit that maybe, just maybe, she could spend eternity with a dragon by her side, after all, he’d already proven his valor, Belle was jerked from her thoughts by the sound of Lizzie screaming, “Toad’s toes and Satan’s slippers, what the hell is this shit?”

  Spinning to her left, the Christmas Fairy wasn’t sure if she should laugh or cry. One thing was sure though, if she hadn’t run out without her phone, she would already be videoing the unbelievable sight before her. As sure as elves ate peppermint sticks, there was no doubt that a short movie of a feisty Earthen witch wrapped up tight in silver and gold tinsel, hanging upside-down from the branch of a huge sycamore tree would win the grand prize on Fairy TV’s Funniest Forest Videos.

  “Don’t just stand there smirking, Belle. Get my ass down. This shit has my hands tied up tight. My magic won’t work if I can’t use my hands,” Lizzie shrieked.

  “Maybe you can yell a little louder.” Taking her backpack off her shoulders, the Christmas Fairy pulled out her pouch of fairy dust, took a pinch of the glittering mixture that was unique to her family, and went on, “You do remember we’re supposed to be ‘sneaking’ up on Cordelia, right?”

  “Yes,” Lizzie snarled, barely above a whisper, her eyes throwing imaginary daggers in Belle’s direction. “But I never expected to be trussed up like the Christmas goose.”

  “Actually, you look more like a poorly wrapped package.”

  “Belle…” Lizzie warned fire dancing in her eyes.

  “I’m just saying. No need to get nasty,” the Christmas Fairy chuckled.

  Walking closer, Belle stopped right beside where her bestie was hanging… and, most certainly seething. Holding her hand in front of her mouth, with her palm full of enchanted powder, Belle breathed, “Scaoileadh an draíocht,” sending her fairy dust along with her words towards her friend.

  Watching the sparkling cloud float through the air, waiting for her magic to take effect, Belle gulped as in the blink of an eye, everything began to move in slow motion. The magic she’d been pushing towards Lizzie made a U-turn, rebounded back on the Christmas Fairy, morphed into tinsel and wrapped tight around the fairy’s ankles.

  Upright one second then hanging upside-down in midair the next was disconcerting, but it was the maniacal cackle and gust of frozen wind that had Belle ordering through gritted teeth in a whispered tone, “Say nothing, Lizzie. Not. A. Word.”

  Closing her eyes, praying to the Goddess that she was wrong, the fairy cracked open one eye, slammed it shut and groaned, “This cannot be happening.”

  “Oh, but it is, my little Christmas Belle.”

  Holding her breath as the living, breathing embodiment of her ill-spent youth stopped right beside her and ran his long, thin fingers through her hair, Belle shook with rage as she spat, “Get your hands off me, Ellis, before I remove them for you.”

  “Oh, come now, is that any way to treat an old friend?”

  “We are not now, nor have we ever been - friends. Now, let me and my friend down, and we’ll be on our way.” Trying hard not to completely lose her temper, but wanting to punch the uppity bastard of a half-goblin/half-fairy she’d dated about fifty years ago for less than a week so hard that he landed ass first in the next century, Belle added, “We’re here on official Christmas business.”

  Chuckling like he had all day and they truly were friends, Ellis stood tall, threw back his shoulders and with his hands behind his back stepped back far enough for Belle to see his face before obnoxiously replying, “Oh, I am quite aware of why you’ve come, and I am here to tell you that this is your last chance to turn around, go home, and quit while you’re ahead.”

  Intrigued that not only did the idiot know why she was in the forest, but also what she was after, Belle couldn’t help but ask, “And how is it that you’ve come by all this information? When we dated, you could barely find your way outta the bathroom with all the lights on.”

  Anger flashed in the abomination’s eyes a split-second before he schooled his features, painted on a sickeningly sweet smile and simpered, “You haven’t heard the happy news? There’s something the great and powerful Christmas Fairy, Belle Angelica Silvers, doesn’t know?” Slapping his hand to his chest and gasping in fake shock, Ellis added, “Why Cordelia and I were wed just a little over a week ago. The reindeer and the sleigh are her wedding gift to me.”

  Sure she was dreaming, or better yet caught in a nightmare without and end, Belle shook her head the best she could, glanced at Lizzie who was hanging beside her with a wide-eyed look of fear and awe and quipped, “See what happens when you make me get outta bed?”

  Chapter Eight

  Flying through the air, carrying not only two shrieking gnomes but a silverback shifter and the one and only Mrs. Claus, Chance had to wonder when his life had completely gone off the rails.

  “The moment you found our mate,” Dafydd chuckled. “But oh, what a ride it will be.”

  “Nope, not gonna happen. Absolutely no more of this crap. I’m gonna throw that little fairy over my shoulder and lock her away. My heart can’t take any more of this shit. Just knowing she’s in danger might just give me a heart attack.”

  Laughing out loud, his gravelly rumble filling the Guardsman’s mind as well as the air around them, the Dragon King countered, “I cannot wait to watch you try, young one. Our mate is strong, intelligent and above all, independent. There is no way she will allow you to dictate the terms of your relationship in any way. Not now, not ever.”

  “But, she’s a fairy. How much damage can she do to a dragon?”

  “Aye, you’d be surprised. Belle is from one of the oldest and most formidable bloodlines in the history of the Fae. Her great-great-great- and probably more-grandfather was one of the founding members of the Seelie Court.”

  “I’m almost afraid to ask, but ya’ know I’m going to anyway. How do you know all this? We only met her a day and a half ago.”

  “Have you yet to figure out that there is nothing I cannot learn? The network we Dragon Kings set up all those centuries ago still exists. We quite honestly have all the right friends in all the right places.”

  “All hail King Dafydd,” Chance snickered.

  “You jest, but tis true,” the Dragon King chuckled. “I am a force to be reckoned with, and you are lucky to have me.”

  “Indeed,” Chance smiled. “I have never doubted you or your abilities. And as such, will ask if you’ve come up with a plan to rescue our fairy and her friend, along with eight reindeer and a rather large sleigh?”

  Just as Dafydd was about to answer, a glittering fireball whooshed past the dragon’s snout, its flames leaving streaks in the sky. Almost immediately another flew past just barely missing his right wing, its falling embers burning tiny holes through the thin, silk-like webbing that connected the slender ribs of cartilage, or his wing phalanges.

  Justifiably enraged at being attacked without warning, the dragon caught sight of yet a third ball of fire heading directly for the tip of his spade-shaped tail. Flinging the appendage up and over his back, Chance pointed his snout towards the clouds and with just a few determined thrusts of his huge wings, maneuvered himself and his passengers higher into the atmosphere.

  Leveling out after bursting through the mist, the dragon used the shine of the setting moon and the rays of the rising sun as cover to take stock of their position. Looking down, the underside of his large jowl almost touching the massive muscles of his chest, the dragon caught sight of a tall, lanky man dressed all in black, alongside a woman whose red velvet jumper looked like it needed a good washing…or better yet a ceremonial burning.

  Ready to comment on their attackers, the scent of blood reached the dragon’s enhanced senses, making Chance growl low in his throat.

  “Slow down, Loverboy. It is reindeer blood you smell,” Dafydd quickly assured. “Do not let your need to save Belle overshadow your good sense and training. Dying in a battle you could’ve won will not make you a hero.”

  “Thanks, Confucius,
” Chance scoffed, his fury rising with every beat of his heart. “For the record, I knew what I was smelling. My fear is that if the crazy bi…I mean angel, is insane enough to harm a deer, then I’m somehow sure that she won’t bat an eye at harming Belle.”

  “You could be right,” Simon chimed in, having taken the blood oath of the Dragon Guard which allowed him to communicate in the mindspeak of the dragons. “But I’m thinking that Cordelia’s main focus is making her sisters and Santa pay for kicking her out of Christmas Village. Belle and Lizzie just got in the way.”

  “Yeah, but that makes them even more expendable,” Chance growled, not feeling at all better after hearing his friend’s astute observation.

  “I hadn’t thought about…Whoa. Where are we going now?” Simon went from his normal, everyday, easy-going tone to nearly shrieking as Chance raised his wings, pushed as hard as he could against the airstream and shot out into the sky.

  Pointing the tip of his snout at the ground and straightening out his body, Chance bellowed aloud, “Hold on,” a split-second before he dove towards the ground.

  Laying his wings flat against his body, the Dragon King gave complete control to the Guardsman as they sped straight for the dangerous duo who dared to threaten their mate. Closer and closer to the ground he dove. Faster and faster the wind swirled around him. Scanning the terrain for any sight of his mate, Chance’s heart thundered inside his chest. This was where he would take his stand. This was where he would eliminate any and all threats to his mate.

  Waiting until the tip of his nose was mere inches above the tops of the trees and right over the heads of the man and angelic being, Chance threw out his wings, and leveled off his body. Opening his enormous jaws, a stream of fire burst forth, enclosing the man and woman in an impenetrable ring of fire. Immediately lifting his head, the dragon lowered his huge body into the closest pasture, sinking to his knees the moment his paws touched down.