Vixen Claws (The Twelve Mates Of Christmas Book 4)

by Sable Sylvan

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, won’t I?” asked Cain, walking back into the living room.

  “I work at the bakery every day, so, yeah, I guess so,” said Candy, blushing.

  “I won’t bother you anymore,” said Cain. “I know you need to get your rest, so you don’t catch a death of cold. See you tomorrow, Candy.”

  “Took you long enough,” said Krampus, who was sitting on the dock, reading The Screwtape Letters. “Was it worth it?”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t come find me and punish me,” said Cain, getting out of the boat and lifting it up so he could carry it to the boathouse.

  “The punishment was the rowing,” said Krampus.

  “Thank goodness,” said Cain.

  “Also, the punishment is push-ups,” said Krampus. “One thousand of them. Before you go to bed.”

  “I thought you said the rowing was the punishment,” said Cain.

  “The punishment can be two things,” said Krampus, putting away his book.

  Chapter Three

  December 8th, 2010

  It was Wednesday morning, but Candy still couldn’t get over what had happened on Saturday night. Cain had been in her house with her. He’d done so many nice things for her — bringing her a tree, making her soup and hot cocoa. Why hadn’t he taken things further? Why had he just left, instead of claiming her then and there?

  Maybe there was something to that mark on his shoulder. Maybe Cain really was ‘Naughty.’ Maybe there was something inside him that refused to play by the rules. Was it Cain, or was it his shift?

  Candy thought about the mark and sighed. She knew how mate marks worked. Practically everyone who lived in a big city full of shifters did. Although Candy hadn’t interacted much with shifters, given her busy and relatively insular life in San Francisco, a few of her friends had dated shifters. The mark was meant to tell a shifter who their fated mate was, and, when a shifter first ‘claimed’ their mate, sexually, the mark would do…something. Candy was fuzzy on the details.

  How had a shifter like Cain gone all these years without claiming a fated mate? He was always around literal models. How had he not fallen for one of the women he posed with?

  Candy had no more time to think about silly questions. The front door to the bakery opened. The bells tied to the front door jingled. In walked a familiar face who was wearing a shirt, for once.

  Cain walked up to the empty counter. The cafe was nearly empty. He leaned down to get on Candy’s level.

  “You feel okay?” asked Cain.

  “Y-yeah, why?” asked Candy.

  “I’m just making sure you haven’t caught a bug,” said Cain. “You’re bright pink. Are you running a fever?”

  Cain took the back of his hand and pressed it against Candy’s forehead. Candy’s heart started racing. Cain was touching her again. His grip was firm but gentle. As he pulled his hand back, Candy caught site of his hands. She knew Cain was a shifter. She’d sworn someone had mentioned he was a bear shifter. Candy had never seen marks like his before. The marks on his hands didn’t resemble the pawprint of a bear. Every bear shifter she’d ever met had those pawprints, callus-like marks on their hands that remained when a shifter turned back into a human. Cain’s marks were dark, but they weren’t in the shape of a pawprint. They were almost like sets of teardrops, dotted at their bases.

  “Something wrong?” asked Cain.

  “Nothing, sorry,” said Candy. “What can I get you?”

  “Something real sweet,” said Cain. “What do you like?”

  “I like the sugar cookies,” admitted Candy. “That’s not exactly a good breakfast item, though.”

  “Maybe if I have half a dozen of them, that’ll fill me up,” said Cain. “Can I get half a dozen of the sugar cookies and a large iced coffee?”

  “You sure you want iced coffee?” asked Candy.

  “I can’t exactly chug a hot coffee, now can I?” asked Cain.

  “Oh, right, of course,” said Candy. “Alright. Just take a seat, and I’ll bring you your order.”

  Cain took a seat. Candy rang up his order and put the receipt in the special drawer used for Krampus’ receipts. She brought the food and a cup up to Cain.

  “What’s this?” asked Cain, looking at the plate next to the bag of cookies.

  “I made you a breakfast sandwich,” said Candy. “I told you, sugar cookies aren’t exactly a breakfast food. You need your energy.”

  “Well, then thank you kindly,” said Cain. He turned the breakfast sandwich over and peeled off the bottom piece of white bread. He put a sugar cookie on the sandwich and put the bread back on the bottom of the sandwich. He flipped the sandwich over and did the same thing with the top of the sandwich. Then, he chewed.

  “Did you really just put two sugar cookies in your sandwich?” asked Candy, crossing her arms.

  “What can I say,” teased Cain. “I’m a beast with a sweet tooth. What about you, Candy? Do you want sweet things too? Or are you more into spicy stuff?”

  “I, uh, well, you see…” started Candy, blushing. She’d been hit with another case of the ‘Cain makes it impossible to talk to him when he says dirty stuff’ disease, for which there was no cure.

  “Yes?” asked Cain.

  Masterful, said Vixen. Bravo.

  I think causing Candy to lose her speech capabilities isn’t exactly the way to winning her heart, said Cain.

  Are you frikkin’ kidding me? Vixen asked incredulously. That’s how you know that what you’re doing is working.

  Before Candy could figure out an answer, somebody else interjected.

  “Candy!” called a voice from the back. “Got a second?”

  “Work calls,” said Candy. “Guess I’ll see you around.”

  Avery walked into the cafe area.

  “Hey Cain,” said Avery. “Krampus is waiting for you in the back, so finish up or pack that up to go. He’s in a hurry today. Something about you owing him pushups.”

  Avery walked Candy out to the small seating area in the front of the bakery. Cain went to the back of the bakery to meet with Krampus.

  “Was I interrupting anything?” asked Avery.

  “I wish,” said Candy. “I mean. No. I mean…”

  “Don’t worry about it. How’re things going with the marketing ideas?” asked Avery.

  “I have a weird idea,” said Candy. “My burlesque group back in San Francisco, well, what they did was they put on a special ‘Christmas pageant’ every year. This was R rated stuff, but it brought in a lot of business.”

  “I don’t exactly follow,” admitted Avery. “You think we should hire strippers or something? I know of this great bear shifter themed strip club, Bear Buns, but I don’t know if they’d come out here to promote some dinky bakery.”

  “Not exactly,” said Candy. “What if we had a sexy Santa, instead of a mall Santa, and had an after-hours, adults-only party, where all the moms could let loose?”

  “You may be onto something here,” said Avery. “All these moms are feeling absolutely pooped.”

  “You’re telling me,” said Candy. “Imagine my surprise when all these sweet ladies have been ordering coffee strong enough for frikkin’ Krampus. I think that a night off might do them some good.”

  “It’d drum up business for the bakery for sure,” said Avery. “I’ll see about finding a babysitting service and renting out the community center.”

  “The community center?” asked Candy.

  “Well, yeah,” said Avery. “The bakery’s not big enough to host a mom rave.”

  “Ah, gosh, you think it’s going to be a rave?” asked Candy. “I just thought we’d have some eggnog, some cookies, and they could take sassy pics on a sexy Santa’s lap!”

  “If we’re going to do this, we have to do this big,” said Avery. “Speaking of big…what’s going on with you and the big guy?”

  “The who and the what now?” asked Candy.

  “What’s going on with you and Cain?” asked Aver
y. “Every day, you seem to get even more nervous around him. I thought you were a confident BBW who did burlesque dancing. I thought you could have any man wrapped around your finger with a swing of the hips and a snap of the fingers What the heck is going on?”

  “Is my crush on him that obvious? He’s unlike any man I met back in San Francisco,” admitted Candy. “Obviously, I worked at a Bear Claw Bakery back in San Francisco, but, my bakery was in a tech startup area, and not one with a ton of shifters. After work, I spent a lot of my time practicing with my burlesque troupe, which is all female and doesn’t have any shifters in it. Most shifters aren’t like Cain. Most want to keep their mate marks hidden. I get it. Anyway…I don’t know how to deal with a guy like Cain. I know how to deal with techies that insist I got their order wrong when I know I got it right, but a big, burly, alpha male like Cain? Whew. I have no clue what to do about him.”

  “He obviously likes you,” said Avery. “He asked your schedule. Didn’t you two go home together?”

  “It’s so silly,” said Candy. “He brought me a Christmas tree, brought it to my house, set it up for me…and then, he left.”

  “He didn’t try to…” started Avery.

  “No,” said Candy. “I wish he had, honestly. He’s a hunk. There’s no denying it. I want him to open my Christmas box if you know what I mean.”

  “You’re putting the ‘ho’ in ‘ho, ho, ho,’ aren’t you?” teased Avery. “Just kidding. I’ve just always wanted to say that!”

  “Do you really think that pursuing Cain is a bad idea?” asked Candy.

  “I never said that,” said Avery. “Sometimes, the best presents come in some ugly wrapping paper.”

  “He’s not ugly,” said Candy.

  “You know what I mean,” said Avery. “Big things can come in small packages, that sort of thing…but I supposed you want his ‘big thing’ to come in your ‘small package.’”

  “Avery!” hissed Candy, blushing.

  “Just pretend he’s naked,” said Avery. “Isn’t that a thing people do when they’re nervous?”

  “I think imagining him naked is already half my problem,” admitted Candy.

  Chapter Four

  December 12th, 2010

  Cain was rowing across The Wreath and thinking about his encounters with Candy. Did she like him? He was ninety percent sure she did, but what if she really was just shy? He rowed the boat as Krampus sat across from him reading some book on demonology.

  Cain couldn’t stop thinking about Candy. When he was splitting logs at Camp Kringle, all he could think about were how good his soft, thick curves would fill in his hands, much better than a hard skinny ax handle. When he was chopping down Christmas trees that Krampus magically regrew, over and over, all he could think about was how cute Candy had been, swaddled up on the couch, checking him out as he set up her Christmas tree. He hadn’t let her know that he knew that she was staring at him. After all, that would mean admitting that he was staring at her, that she was the one who was always on his mind, the one who had captured his thoughts and maybe, just maybe, his heart.

  “These things are hilarious, you know,” said Krampus, thumping the book against his thigh.

  “Huh?” asked Cain, still rowing.

  “I said these things are hilarious, these books,” said Krampus. “Is this really what humans think demons are like? It’s like reading fantasy fiction.”

  Cain kept rowing, and as soon as Krampus stopped talking, he started thinking about Candy again.

  You’ve got it bad, said Vixen. Ironic, isn’t it? You’ve never felt that kind of connection before…

  …But I finally find it up here, where I’ve been sent because I hadn’t found a mate, finished Cain. I get it. I’ve learned my lesson. I should’ve spent the time finding a connection beforehand.

  You still don’t get it, do you? Vixen asked Cain. Fate has a path for you, Cain, like she has for all of your kind. This is where the trail has led you.

  Cain kept rowing the boat. As he rowed closer to the dock outside Bear Claw Bakery, he noticed that one of the kitchen windows was opened and let out a bunch of smoke. Cain smiled. He wondered who had managed to burn something, and what they’d managed to burn. He couldn’t imagine Candy or Avery burning anything. Maybe it was Brie. He wondered if Krampus’ daily order would be ready on time. All the small things about life around The Wreath, where time seemed to pass by slower, captivated him. He was a man who had previously spent all his time either traveling, being photographed, or sleeping. He had rarely had time to explore the exotic locales he visited for work. He never made connections with his coworkers before. He was the cargo and the delivery man, delivering one product and one product only — his handsome self, contents: one rock hard set of abs, a chiseled jawline, and broad shoulders any woman could imagine herself sinking into at the end of a long day.

  Cain tied the boat up and walked up the stairs to the patio. He noticed activity happening around the side of the bakery, where nobody every hung out except delivery guys. Cain frowned to himself and went to check out what was going on.

  Cain turned the corner and saw a big man taking a pie out through the window.

  “Hey!” shouted Cain. “That’s not yours! Put it down!”

  “Yeah? And what are you going to do if I steal it?” asked the man.

  “Trust me,” said Cain, walking up to the man. “You don’t want to find out.”

  “Big words from a puny, what,” started the man, taking Cain’s hand and turning it over. “What are you, a frikkin’ ram shifter? Get out of my face, punk.”

  Cain tore his hand out of the stranger’s hand and pushed the stranger backward.

  “Oh, now you’ve done it,” said the stranger, starting to shift into a beast.

  “You just messed with the wrong reindeer,” said Cain.

  Cain shifted. He’d never shifted into his reindeer form before, and he had to admit he was a little nervous. After all, how exactly did reindeer move? How would he fight this guy without paws and claws?

  The man in front of him shifted into a grizzly bear. Cain smiled to himself as he changed. If there was one shift Cain knew anything about, it was grizzlies.

  Cain’s body grew bigger, and he sprouted hair everywhere. It was just like going through puberty all over again. His arms fell, just as they would if he’d shifted into his bear form from an upright position. Cain hadn’t remembered to get down on all fours when he turned, but gravity pulled his legs down to the ground for him. Cain slipped and then regained his bearings. The reindeer legs were a little unwieldy. They were long and spindly. Luckily, a reindeer’s ‘elbows’ and ‘knees’ bent in the same directions as a bear’s ‘elbows’ and ‘knees’ — elbows bending backward, knees bending forward. The angle of the bend and the size of the bones were different, but Cain managed to figure it out. He knew how to ‘drive.’ This just wasn’t his usual ‘car.’

  Cain looked down at the grizzly. The grizzly was growling, but it was obvious the grizzly had no idea how to start a fight against a giant frikkin’ reindeer.

  So Cain booped the grizzly on the nose with one of his hooves.

  What, said Vixen. What was that?

  What would you do? Cain asked Vixen.

  I don’t know, smart one, maybe use my antlers? The big bony things on my head? Vixen replied sassily. ‘Tis the season to break out ‘The Meatgrinders.’

  The what now? ‘The Meatgrinders’? asked Cain incredulously. Reindeers name their horns?

  Well, I named mine, and I named them ‘The Meatgrinders,’ replied Vixen defensively.

  It’s a good name, said Cain. I named my horn ‘The Narwhal.’

  Bears don’t have horns, said Vixen.

  Men do, said Cain.

  Okay, you’re nasty, you’re real nasty, said Vixen.

  Cain went up to the werebear and used his hoof to give the werebear a noogie. He used his hoof to rub the top of the grizzly’s head and muss up its fur. The bear frowned at Cain, c
onfused. While the werebear was confused, Cain put his head down, pressed it against the werebear’s, and then, rustled his antlers around the werebear.

  It was a weird move. It was nothing that Vixen, the werebear on the ground, or Cain had seen before.

  You’re crazy for this one, said Vixen. Well, it was nice knowing you, kid.

  Then, suddenly, the bear started heaving. The bear was taking in deep breaths. The bear rolled onto his back but was still turning around, having a hysterical fit.

  Cain had managed to tickle the beast into submission.

  Cain moved back, giving the other bear shifter a chance to surrender. Cain looked on the ground. The pie was smashed. He had not managed to save the pie in the end, but at least the thief had not made off with stolen goods.

  “Okay, okay,” said the man. “I give up.”

  Krampus walked up behind the werebear on the ground and took him by the ruff of his collar. The man looked down. How was he magically wearing the same clothes he’d just shifted out of? Why wasn’t he naked? Cain wondered the same thing, and then he remembered. Obviously, Krampus had worked some demoncraft and given the werebear a new set of clothes, so he wouldn’t be lying on the patio, naked.

  “I have half a mind to phone the police,” said Krampus, dragging the man as easily as if he were a goose down pillow. “You’re going to go inside, apologize for all the mischief you made, pay for that pie, and clean up the mess in the kitchen. Cain, shift.”

  “But I’m naked,” said Cain. The words came out. They sounded like a grizzly bear had farted into an airhorn.

  “You won’t be naked,” said Krampus. “And yes, before you ask, I can speak reindeer. Pretty much everyone ‘up North’ can.”

  Krampus dragged the criminal inside. Cain shifted back into his human form. He looked down. He was still wearing all his clothes.