Wicked Winters: A Collection of Winter Tales

by Lucy Smoke

  I loathed my parents.

  Tears prickled my eyes. They’d stolen my childhood, made me think of them whenever I felt trapped and scared.

  A loud thump hit the top of the van, shaking everything, rattling the bottles.

  I raised the whiskey in my hand to my chest and froze. Waited.

  What sounded like chains dragged overhead. I looked at the ceiling, trembling.

  Four curved daggers jabbed throughout the roof, inches from my head.

  I shuddered and hiccupped a cry, strangling the bottle.

  The bear tore open the car as if it were a can. The scraping sound shrieked in my ears, the metal warping.

  I screamed, curled low in my seat, tears blurring my vision as I pictured my death.

  A cold wind swirled into the van from the gaping holes, and I met his gaze. He had the eyes of an animal ready to rip me apart. Except something was wrong. That wasn’t a bear.

  The face staring down at me through the four shredded lines was the devil. With twisted horns, the creature had a goat’s face. Dark fur covered its body. A blood red tongue flicked out of his mouth, licking long fangs. And the deepest, blackest eyes I’d ever seen seemed to pierce into my soul. A chill slithered up my spine.

  Terror shackled me in place at first, but instinct kicked in. My muscles tensed. I shoved open the door, then scrambled out and recoiled backward, still gripping the whiskey.

  What stood on top of my van was no animal, but a demon. A cross between a satanic goat and a werewolf I’d seen in movies. In one hand he carried a long chain, and he had one cloven and one clawed foot. Such things shouldn’t exist. Maybe I’d fallen unconscious from the cold and this was a horrific dream that would haunt me to the end of my days.

  I retreated, every inch of me shaking as I faced the monster.

  It jerked its head toward me. Why was it smirking?

  It jumped down from the roof, and the snow compacted under its weight. Without a word, with only a grin that had me facing my death, it marched forward, dragging the chain.

  Dread clawed into me, and a cry fell from my lips, hot air floating from my mouth. I turned and ran, my feet sinking in snow.

  But a sharp pain whipped around my ankles, and I cried out as I fell forward to the ground. My yells grew muffled, but I fought and bucked against the restraints.

  The thing dragged me through the snow, toward itself. When I rolled on my back, bucking and fighting the chains, I watched the devil’s mouth open into a toothy grin.

  Just as my dad had done when he’d hauled me by my feet out of my hiding spot, showing me that clearly he’d enjoy punishing me. And that same twisted look swept across this monster’s expression. But I’d put that fear behind me so long ago. So fucking long ago.

  I wriggled and loosened a foot, then kicked off the chains. Scrambling to my feet, I recoiled, facing the beast, who grunted, its upper lips peeling back off stained fangs.

  Rushing to unscrew the bottle’s lid, I hurled the whiskey at the brute.

  It licked the liquid and almost purred with amusement, but something guttural rolled in its chest, and when it rushed me, I shuddered. My legs froze as fear owned me.

  It moved too fast, dropping the chains, and seizing my arm, nails piercing material and skin, drawing blood. I screamed, pulling away. I whacked it in the side of the head with my empty bottle, and it released me. It shook itself and snarled, spittle thrown into my face.

  Fuckhead. I yanked the lighter out of my pocket and flicked it open. A spark lit up, and at once a golden blaze shot upward toward my head. I flinched, but a sudden surge of energy shuddered through my body as if I’d touched an electric fence. I convulsed and dropped to my knees, the lighter rolling out of my grasp. What just happened?

  But the demon was on me once again. I scrambled to pick up the lighter from the snow with a shaky hand.

  The creature towered over me and ripped the Santa hat off my head as its talons clawed down my arm, shredding skin, dragging me to my feet. I cried out from the scorching pain, the sensation of knives slicing through me. I gritted my teeth, held back the tears, and clicked the lighter once more with clumsy fingers. It sparked to life.

  The beast’s eyes widened, and it unleashed an ear-piercing howl.

  The ground quivered beneath my boots as if a stampede approached.

  But I focused on the monster in front of me and tossed the fire at the creature. It leaped back as flames took to the whiskey that must have splashed across its legs. It belched out a terrifying roar, and I didn’t wait. I whirled around and darted away from the van, from the fiend, who was rolling in the snow, patting down the fire. The acrid smell of burning fur flooded my nostrils. Why hadn’t I burned the fucker completely?

  I ran.

  Faster.

  Following the road that would lead me to the other town.

  The crunch of snow was on my heels.

  Fear throttled me, and I glanced over my shoulder to now find a deer chasing me. My mouth fell open. It was the freaking stalker one with the gray mark on its brow that had run out in front of our car. Where the fuck had it come from?

  Hot air steamed from its flaring nostrils, and the look in its eyes was that of savagery. It would bowl me over and spear me to death. What the hell was wrong with the animals in these woods?

  Behind the deer, two others surrounded the black demon. Yep, they were all in cahoots. Had they been following me from home?

  I spun around, sprinting, needing to get out.

  Survive.

  I couldn’t leave Britta alone.

  Please, God, help me.

  But when my foot caught on a dead branch, I flew forward from the momentum. My stomach dropped like lead. Everything moved so slowly. The deer was at my side now, snorting, its antlers lowering, pointed my way.

  Fear spiked through me.

  The moment my head hit the ground hard, my world darkened.

  Death had come for me.

  4

  The jingle of bells sang in my ears, over and over, like a song stuck in a loop. I ached all over. The tune kept repeating. Was Britta playing with a toy? Lying with my eyes shut and a fiery warmth at my feet, I felt as if I’d forgotten something. The last thing I remembered was driving to the small town of Ringsted…

  And with that, my heart slammed against my chest as the memories surged through my mind. The attack, the monster, the reindeer! Falling over, hitting my head.

  I opened my eyes to a white ceiling with a single bulb hanging low. This wasn’t my bedroom. I lay on a bed, on top of the covers, in a strange room, and my breath hitched. My thoughts raced as I tried to piece together where the hell I was, but nothing came to mind.

  The ringing persisted, and I twisted my head, which was a mistake because a thundering ache lanced across my brow as if I’d been struck by a hammer. A man paced up and down the room, and the bells rang out each time his left foot hit the floorboards. He glanced outside every time he passed the window, his hands deep in his pockets. He had short, dark cropped hair. Paired with his broad shoulders and muscular physique, he reminded me of a soldier. Had he saved me from the monster and brought me here?

  Outside, it looked darker and snow fell in clusters, making visibility difficult. I scanned the room without making a sound, from the door to the couch against the opposite wall where another man slouched. His head was tilted back against the top of the sofa, staring at the ceiling, and he wore jeans, heavy boots, and a long-sleeved top. Like the first guy, he was strong and maybe in his mid-to-late twenties.

  Why was I here exactly? Maybe I should be in a hospital. The fuzziness in my mind made thinking worse.

  What had happened in the woods had been strange enough. But now to wake up in a room with two strange men, fear sat on my chest like a boulder. I was in Austria and knew so little about the country. They must have found me passed out in the woods and brought me here? But why not a hospital?

  Thanks to the crazy-ass monster attacking, I’d left my phone and
bag in the car, and who knew where that was in relation to where this cabin was located. My stomach twisted with that reminder.

  I shifted slightly on top of the bedsheet, rolling away from the men.

  But the moment, I turned on to my side, I came eye to eye with a third man sitting on a chair, one ankle crossed over his knee, his hands on his thighs. The bluest eyes stared my way, and I lost myself in them as they stood out against the darkest lashes and thick brows. Long, black hair flowed over his shoulders and halfway down his chest. I’d only seen men like him in magazines, not in real life. Was I hallucinating?

  “Hello,” he said, his voice dark and raspy. Not a hint of an accent. And he didn’t move from his seat.

  “She’s awake?” another said from behind me, and I scrambled off the queen-sized bed, the chiming of bells coming from around my ankles. I glanced down to my jeans, finding bells sewn to the hems of my fabric. I tugged on them, but they weren’t coming off. My arm had also been bandaged where I’d been scratched up, and the sleeve, pushed to sit above my wound, looked shredded.

  The world tilted beneath me, and I stumbled backward. Pressed in between the bed and the handsome long-haired man, I crammed my back against the wall. My attention swung between the three men, each studying me with an expression I couldn’t work out. Maybe curiosity, or was I sensing their satisfaction, as if proud of their catch?

  The soldier marched toward me, and I grabbed the closest thing, a pillow, holding it against my chest as a shield. I stood no chance against three men. On the bright side, I still wore my clothes. And they hadn’t tied me up as their sex slave. Bonus yeah? Except the walls seemed to close in around me, and a heaviness smothered me. I desperately needed fresh air.

  “Where am I? Who are you? And why are there bells on my jeans?” My voice quivered, and I cleared my throat, lifting my chin, wondering if I’d make it to the door if I jumped over the bed and ran.

  “You’re in Ringsted. The bells are for your protection, and I’m Tatum. That over there”—he stared at the guy lounging on the couch at the back of the room—“is Leven.” Leven gave a slight nod of his head. He had sandy-colored hair, long on the top and shaved around the edges. Shadows danced under his eyes, his expression firm and revealing nothing.

  “I’m Jax,” the long-haired man on the seat near the bed said.

  My thoughts weren’t catching up, and I swept my gaze from each of them, convinced I was dreaming because, let’s be honest, if there were murderers working together to kidnap and kill people, what were the chances all three would be the sexiest looking men I’d ever seen? I prayed I was wrong.

  “You hit your head pretty badly,” said Jax. “So we brought you back here to recover. You had no ID on you.”

  My throat dried as I tried to patch together the missing pieces of my memory. Okay, so they’d found me in the woods knocked out and had taken care of me. That was a charitable thing to do as long as that was all it had been. “Why didn’t you take me to the hospital?”

  Jax shrugged as if it had genuinely never crossed their minds. All right, so I could’ve had a concussion, and what would they have done? Sat around and watched me until I died? I stiffened at the idea.

  “I’m Nickie. Now can I leave?” I glanced up at Tatum as he towered over me. He carried an energy about him of someone who was used to getting his way and giving orders.

  He nodded. “Where would you like to go?”

  I held back the words that I was planning on running as far from them as possible, as soon once I got the chance. “I probably need to see a doctor. What if I have a concussion or something?”

  Jax shook his head. “Trust us, you’re fine. We can tell.”

  I gripped my hips. “What does that even mean? Are you a doctor?”

  The corner of his mouth curled up and he shook his head. “You’ll be okay.”

  “I need to go home.”

  “It’s too dangerous to travel to Hirschheim. We’ll all stay here until the storm passes,” Tatum added. “And Jax is right. You don’t have a head injury. You’ll have to believe us on that.”

  I hugged the pillow tighter. “I didn’t mention Hirschheim.” And the earlier panic deepened. Had they gone through my belongings in the car when they’d found me? Except, they’d said they found no ID. What about the demonic monster who’d attacked me? I studied the empty table. There was no sign of my phone or wallet.

  “Take a seat, sweetheart,” Jax said, still reclining in his seat, and it annoyed me that he slouched while I felt so cornered.

  What exactly were they expecting from me? “I need to make a phone call,” I said.

  Tatum sat on the end of the bed and pointed to the phone on the wall near the bathroom door. “It’s all yours.”

  I stared at them at first, waiting for them to rip it out of the wall or something, but I took a step forward, then another. No one stepped in my way. Jax smirked, as if the scene was hilarious. Yeah, so funny I couldn’t stop laughing.

  I picked up the receiver and dialed home, then turned and put my back to the wall, watching the strangers.

  “Hello,” Jana answered. “Holler residence.”

  “Jana, it’s me, Nickie. And—”

  “Nickie, are you all right? We’ve all been so worried. Britta won’t stop crying.”

  “I’m okay.” My heart hurt at hearing Britta’s agony. “The car broke down and some nice men helped me to Ringsted. I’m staying in a motel.” I lowered the receiver from my mouth, getting Tatum’s attention. “What’s this place called? Is there a number?”

  Tatum picked up the brochure from near the bedside table and handed it to me. I read out the address and cabin unit written on the paper in red ink. Now someone knew where I was in case I was murdered. Sure, they could have planted the brochure to trick me, but how would they know I’d want to call home? Nope, that was allowing my mind to go into crazy paranoia mode.

  The phone line crackled with static. “That is wonderful news. You will have to stay there tonight. A big storm has come in fast and it’s too risky to travel.”

  “No, it should be fine. Can you call Manuel and ask him to pick me up tonight please?”

  “Oh, no, girl. We have to wait for the storm to pass. Too dangerous.”

  I sighed, hating this whole situation. “What about Jakob, our client? Maybe he can help me? Would you track down his number for me from Manuel please?”

  Jana sighed. “While we were worrying about you, Jakob called to say he left for a holiday. He’s not there.”

  Oh, great! I was stuck in a weird kind of hell with three handsome guys! Were they going to torture me with their sexiness? God, could I sound any dorkier? Yep, and my no-dating policy had turned me into a horndog around gorgeous men. “Can I speak with my sister?”

  Seconds later, Britta sniffled on the phone. “Nickie, where are you? You promised you’d be back, but you didn’t come.”

  My soul shredded, and I turned my back to the men, lowering my voice. “Take a deep breath. It’s okay. It’s not safe to return home tonight in this weather. But I’ll leave in the morning.”

  She cried into the phone piece.

  “Please, Britta. Be strong for me.” Another crackling across the phone. “Why not show Jana the river we discovered from your window? I bet she’d love it.”

  “Already showed her,” she said, sulking.

  “Remember what I said on the drive when we first came here? This is a new location, and we need to get used to changes. Wild animals. Lots of snow. And how quick storms roll in.” I refused to tell her about the car and worry her. I’d find a way to get home tomorrow. “So how about you keep Jana distracted because she told me storms scare her.”

  She hummed in response, and I suspected she nodded. “I can do that. Bye.”

  “Goodnight.” But she was gone, as the response came in the form of shuffling feet.

  “She’ll be fine,” Jana said. “Come home only if it’s safe to do so.”

  “Thank y
ou. I’ll talk to you tomorrow if plans change.”

  By the time I hung up and turned around, silence permeated the room. The three of them stared my way wearing a mixture of emotions across their faces. Jax’s brows furrowed while Tatum held himself tightly, as if ready to jump into battle. Leven, at the back of the room hadn’t shifted and looked as if nothing in the world bothered him.

  “Is your sister all right?” Tatum asked.

  I nodded, refusing to get into a whole discussion about my family, and eyed the door. Where would I go when I couldn’t remember the address of the client I was visiting? Plus, he wasn’t home.

  “I’m going to get food.” Leven broke the silence and was on his feet, and damn if he wasn’t taller and broader than Tatum. I swallowed the thickness in my throat. No way in the world did I stand a chance against him if things went south.

  “I’m coming too,” I piped up, needing to get away and see what my escape plan looked like.

  Leven twisted to look at me with an incredulous look. “No.”

  He headed toward the door, and I marched after him.

  “If I’m stuck here, I need my own room,” I insisted.

  “All other rooms are booked. Plus, you need money,” Tatum said from across the room.

  I halted in my tracks. “I can call home and find a way to pay.” Jana could help out with her credit card, since my wallet was back in the van somewhere in the woods. And the memory had me remembering that devil that had attacked me. The whole incident felt surreal. My inhale rattled on its way to my lungs. I couldn’t deal with those confusing thoughts when it hurt my head. First, leave behind these men, sort out my thoughts, and find a way to get home to Britta.

  No one said a word or tried to stop me as I crossed the room, though there was the low peal of the stupid bells sewn to my pants as they jingled. I was clearly with crazies here. But no one had laid a hand on me, so maybe this was normal Austrian behavior and I was the one overreacting?