Prancer Claws: The Twelve Mates Of Christmas, Book 3
Page 6
“Here,” said Krampus, looking down at Ethan’s feet before pulling a shoebox out of his pocket and sliding it across the table. “Guess I forgot to put these in there.”
“Thanks,” said Ethan. He opened up the shoebox. Inside was a pair of black sneakers. Ethan put them on. They fit his feet perfectly, just like the clothes.
“Today’s a busy day,” said Krampus. “We got a double order of pastries and coffee yesterday because we have to head out in about twenty minutes. It’s day-old pastries and coffee, but it’s better than nothing.”
Ethan nodded and ate up. The food was cold, and so was the coffee. There wasn’t a microwave in the kitchen, just a standard stove and oven set up, and there was no time to heat anything up. Ethan chewed and thought about how different his breakfast was than the breakfasts he was used to in New York City. His assistant always had his fancy coffee and breakfast sandwich, made by one of the chefs in the cafeteria, ready on Ethan’s desk before Ethan got in. Somehow, his assistant had always managed to make sure that Ethan’s breakfast was on his desk mere minutes before Ethan got into the office.
“What’s the plan for today anyway?” asked Ethan.
“We’re training at The North Pole,” said Krampus.
“You don’t sound excited about it,” said Ethan.
“You’re not exactly what I’d call ‘ready,’” said Krampus. “The last two bad boys from your Clan were a runner and a stripper. They weren’t ready for The Ride when I brought them to The Wreath, but they were fitter than you.”
“You’re worried about being embarrassed,” said Ethan.
“I’m worried about you ruining Christmas,” said Krampus.
“Uh-uh, it’s about honor,” said Ethan. “You want to save face. How about this. Let’s make a bet. If I don’t meet your expectations today, I’ll make sure to row to the Bear Claw Bakery and back twice a day instead of just once a day. It’ll make me much fitter.”
“And if you do somehow, through some miracle, manage to meet my expectations?” asked Krampus.
“Then you let me use your phone tonight, for an hour,” said Ethan. “I know you have a phone. You let me use it to find out who I got for Secret Santana.”
“You know that ordering a helicopter to take you away from The Wreath will result in you never earning back your bear spirit or your mate mark, right?” asked Krampus.
“That’s not the call I have to make,” said Ethan.
“Fine,” said Krampus. “I’ll agree to the bet, but only if two changes are made. First of all, you can use the phone if you win, but you can only call a single person. Second of all, you don’t have to impress me to win the right to use my phone. You have to impress The Jolly Fellow himself, Santana Claus.”
“How hard could it be to impress a guy that friendly?” asked Ethan. “I’m in. Let’s do this.” Ethan stuck out his hand. Krampus took Ethan’s hand and shook it.
“Boy, you have no idea what kind of a bet you’ve made,” said Krampus. “Get used to rowing every morning before you go to the Bear Claw Bakery. That’s right. You’ll row from here, to the bakery, back to here, back to the bakery, and back again, all in one shot.”
Krampus reached around his neck and took off his chain. Krampus tossed the chain in the air, and the chain came down as a circle hanging in the air. Green flames filled the chain circle and disappeared, leaving behind a rippled surface showing a land of ice, with a giant candy cane in the background.
“After you,” said Krampus, shoving Ethan through the circle. Krampus walked through the ring, grabbing his chain and closing the loop behind him.
The first thing that hit Ethan was the wind, which blew him back into his mentor.
“Come on, it’s not that cold,” said Krampus, wrapping an arm around Ethan’s shoulder and walking with him through the snow to Santana’s Workshop, a glistening concrete and glass building set like a diamond in the Arctic.
“You see that over there? That’s ‘the candy cane,’ and the thing on top of it, that’s ‘the gumdrop.’ The candy cane marks the true center of The North Pole. You’ll need to use that to orient yourself during takeoff and landing,” said Krampus.
“Couldn’t you have taken us closer to the door?” asked Ethan.
“Wanted you to get a feel for the weather,” said Krampus. “It’s going to get even colder on Christmas Eve. You need to be ready for The Ride.”
Ethan and Krampus plodded through the snow to the revolving doors leading to the lobby of Santana’s Workshop. Krampus walked straight to a red and white striped elevator, and Ethan followed after him. The Christmas elf dressed in all black, with a black carbon fiber Santa hat with white fur trim, gave them a nod as he let them through a pair of red and white velvet ropes.
“Security’s tight right now,” said Krampus.
“What does Santana need to be kept safe from?” asked Ethan.
“You never know, when magical beings are involved,” said Krampus. “It’s the busiest time of the year. The Jolly Fellow doesn’t want to be bothered unless it’s absolutely necessary. We have an appointment, at his request.”
The elevator stopped. Ethan followed Krampus out into a big office. Unlike the rest of the building, the office reminded Ethan of a log cabin. There was a cozy leather couch with throw blankets on it, as well as a wooden coffee table, which had two cups of milk and a plate of chocolate chip cookies laid out on top of it.
“Hey you two,” said a familiar voice, not looking up from her computer. “He’ll be with you shortly.”
“Pandora?” asked Ethan. “Is that you?”
“Panda Claus, thank you very much,” said Pandora. “I’m helping my dad out for the holidays. You knew that.”
“As his secretary?” asked Ethan.
“As his personal assistant,” said Pandora, knitting her brow.
“Where’s Jack?” asked Ethan.
“Probably in Antarctica,” said Pandora.
“In Ant-what-now?” asked Ethan. “Did I hear you right? Because it sounded like you said he’s in…”
“He’s in Antarctica, that other big blob of ice on the other side of the planet, or did you not take basic geography?” sassed Pandora. “Did Krampus teach you nothing?”
“Believe me, I tried, but he’s got a pretty thick skull,” joked Krampus.
A set of elves in lab jackets wearing matching Santa hats left Santana’s office and went to the elevator.
“Just a minute,” said Pandora, before Ethan got up. “Give him a second to get ready.”
“Old man’s age is finally catching up to him,” said Krampus, munching on a cookie. Ethan was also eating a cookie and was nearly done with his milk.
“You’re nearly as old as him,” said Pandora.
Krampus huffed. “At least neither of us are showing our age…yet.”
A little bell jingled on Pandora’s desk.
“Mr. Claus will see you now,” said Pandora.
Krampus and Ethan got up from the comfy couch and walked into Santana’s office.
Santana’s office was half modern, half rustic. He had two desks. One was in front of a roaring fire in what looked like a classic log cabin Christmas living room. The other desk was in front of a large pane glass window overlooking Santana’s workshop. Santana was sitting in an armchair in front of the fire. There were two chairs in front of him. Krampus led Ethan over to the Jolly Fellow.
Ethan had always imagined Santa Claus to be an old man with white hair and a big belly. Santana had black, grey, and white stubble, short hair cropped close to the head, and instead of a big belly, he had big muscles. He didn’t look like he was centuries old. He looked like he was maybe in his late thirties.
“Ethan, Ethan,” said Santana, putting down the scroll he was looking at. “You’re still on The Naughty List.”
“Yes,” said Ethan.
“That wasn’t a question,” said Santana. “I just checked myself. You’re still on the list. You haven’t managed to get off The
Naughty List yet? You have under a week to get back on The Nice List and earn back your shift.”
“I know that,” said Ethan. “I’m working on it. I have something planned.”
“That large gift to the girl,” said Santana. “What’s her name, Carol? The surprise delivery.”
“How did you know about that?” asked Ethan.
“I’m Santana Claus,” said Santana. “Knowing about gifts, that’s sort of my thing, kid. And uh…while it’s a nice gesture, it’s not getting you off The Naughty List.”
“That’s okay,” said Ethan. “At least it’ll make her happy.”
“Humph,” grumbled Santana. “Alright. Well, you’re here today because it’s time for me to see if you’re able to handle The Ride. If you can’t, you’re going to need to work extra hard for the next few days to prepare.”
“Of course,” said Ethan.
Santana waved his hands. Over the tarmac appeared a series of wreaths.
Oh no, said Prancer. Not this.
Not what? asked Ethan.
You’ll see, sighed Prancer. We can do it, but…it’s not going to be easy.
If it were going to be easy, it wouldn’t be any fun, now, would it? asked Ethan.
“Fly through the wreaths, to the candy cane, and back,” ordered Santana. “You think you can handle that?”
“Of course I can,” lied Ethan, even though, inside, he was terrified. He was expected to fly through the wreaths?
“Here,” said Krampus, pulling a harness out of his magical pockets. “Shift. I’ll outfit you with this. Then, all you have to do is just run the gamut. Easy-peasy.”
Ethan shifted into Prancer. He felt Krampus put the strange leather harness on his body. Then, without warning, Santana waved his hand, and a hole appeared in the glass. Krampus slapped the reindeer’s butt, and the reindeer was off.
How do I do this? asked Ethan, breaking into a sprint. I’ve never flown before, well, except first class, but I mean, like this.
Just don’t not fly, said Prancer. It’s that easy.
That’s no help at all, said Ethan, jumping out the hole in the window.
Ethan expected to fall. Instead, he was hovering in midair.
“What’re you doing, boy?” shouted Krampus. “You having a stroke?”
Ethan wasn’t falling. He couldn’t believe it. He moved his legs, and he stepped forward in the air. It was almost like swimming.
Krampus had been right. Ethan wasn’t the kind of billionaire that played squash or tennis. He’d been the kind that liked to lounge on beaches and next to pools, the kind who liked to swim. If flying was like swimming, then Ethan was set.
Ethan flew through the leafy rings leading to the candy cane. Each circle was a giant wreath, complete with fir needles, tinsel, and jingling bells. When Ethan heard the bells jingle, he knew his legs or his antlers had brushed against the wreath. He wasn’t sure if Santana was going to deduct some kind of point from some sort of score for that, but Ethan tried not to think about that. All that mattered was finishing the route in good time.
As Ethan had flown, the rings he’d sailed through had disappeared, and more circles had appeared in front of him. He couldn’t come up with a full flying route in advance. Still, the flying part was easy. Some of the big green rings were moved up, or to the side, or rotated, but it was easy for Ethan because it was just like swimming. Heck, it was even easier than swimming, because it wasn’t like Ethan had to worry about coming up for air.
Ethan made it through all the rings within two minutes. He looked down and saw the first part of the path of rings that led back to Santana’s office.
Ethan flew back through the rings to the Santana’s office, but this time, he flew through them backward. He pepped over his shoulder to make sure he was flying in the right direction. His antlers brushed against one of the wreaths, but he still managed to make it back to Santana’s office.
“So, what do you think?” asked Ethan, shifting back into a human and letting the leather harness hit the floor.
“A bit showy,” said Santana. “However, I can appreciate some showmanship. You still have some training to do. Don’t let me down during the ride, Ethan.”
Krampus threw his chain in the air, and it came down on the ground around the demon and his lumberjack ward. The chain filled with flames and showed a familiar scene from the island in the center of The Wreath.
Krampus teleported himself and Ethan back to Camp Kringle. Ethan fell straight on his ass on the hard dirt in the clearing outside the cabin.
“How did I do?” asked Ethan.
“You didn’t impress me,” said Krampus with a smirk.
“Wasn’t trying to impress you,” said Ethan. “What did Santana say to you while I was in the air?”
“He said he hadn’t seen flying like that in a long time,” admitted Krampus. “Here. You know how to use a phone, right? Your timer starts now.”
Krampus passed Ethan his cellphone as they walked up the stairs into the cabin.
“What are you waiting for?” asked Krampus.
“For you to leave,” said Ethan, sitting on his bed.
“I agreed to let you use the phone. I said nothing about privacy,” said Krampus.
Ethan opened the phone. He dialed in a number he’d memorized years ago.
“Hello?” asked a voice.
“Hey, Janet, it’s Ethan,” said Ethan. “I need you to do me a favor.”
Krampus listened to Ethan’s conversation and made no attempt to hide that fact. With five minutes left on the clock, Ethan finally hung up.
“Really?” asked Krampus. “You get a full hour on my phone, and you choose to call your secretary?”
“She has access to a computer and knows where to send the bills,” said Ethan. “I know what I’m doing. Would you rather I’d asked her to send a bunch of strippers out here instead?”
“No. I think what you ordered is going to be much tastier, and messier, much messier,” admitted Krampus with a smile.
Chapter Seven
Christmas Eve Eve, 2009
Carol was baking in the back of the bakery, rolling out gingerbread dough for gingerbread houses, thinking about what had happened between her and Ethan. She couldn’t believe they’d frikkin’ kissed underneath the mistletoe!
Carol was conflicted. She knew that bad boys were just that – bad. She’d spent her adult life trying to stay out of trouble, away from the world she’d once been part of…but now that Ethan was in her life, she felt as if she was getting pulled back in. She wasn’t sure if she was being pulled in as if she were being pulled into a hug that promised protection and safety, or whether she was being pulled in as if she were being pulled into a whirlpool from which there would be no escape. All she knew was that when she was being pulled into Ethan’s arms, things had just felt…right, even if they were wrong.
She heard a knock at the back door. She wondered who it was because Krampus and Ethan didn’t bother knocking.
“You minding getting that, hon?” called Avery from her office.
“On it,” said Carol, wiping her hands off before going to the back door.
Outside, there was a man with a clipboard.
“Are you Carol, Carol Carter?” asked the man.
“Yes, why?” asked Carol.
“Sign for your packages, please,” said the man, passing Carol the clipboard.
“Uh, okay,” said Carol, signing the clipboard. “I haven’t ordered any packages, and certainly not sent here.”
“Look, lady, I just deliver the packages,” said the man. “Come with me.”
Carol walked with the man. There was a giant semi-truck parked outside the bakery. The man pulled up the metal curtain of the trailer. In the back of the truck were bunches of boxes, all addressed to some random company.
“None of these have my name on them,” said Carol.
“The company isn’t sending you a package,” said the man. “They’re sending you the entire truck of
packages. There was no need for us to relabel them. Now, where do you want these?”
Avery hopped into the truck.
“Hey,” said Avery. “I wondered where you went, Carol. What is all this?”
“I don’t know,” said Carol.
Avery picked up a box.
“This is from a fancy chocolatier in Paris,” said Avery, putting the box down. “This one is from Switzerland. Did you order these?”
“No,” said the man. “And she doesn’t owe any money either. We just need to put these packages somewhere. Alternatively, I can leave you the keys, and the company’ll have me put up somewhere.”
“What company?” asked Carol.
“I’m not at liberty to say, ma’am,” said the mysterious man. “I’m just paid to make sure you get these packages in time.”
Avery had opened up one of the cardboard boxes with a pocket knife. She reached inside. There were bars of luxury chocolate.
“Leave the keys,” said Avery. “Carol, we’ve got some baking to do.”
Carol helped Avery open up the packages, using her keys to open box after box. Carol opened one box and, inside, found a fancy dress.
“Uh…this isn’t chocolate, is it?” asked Carol, fingering the lace and silk of the red and green dress.
“That’s not hot cocoa — that’s haute couture,” said Avery.
Carol opened another box. Inside, there were more practical items — brand new flannel lined jeans, plus-size. In another box, there was a set of waffle-knit long-sleeved shirts, as well as long johns and some warm wooly socks.
In a large box, there was a brand-new winter coat — a long silver puffer jacket. In another box, there was a red wool pea coat. Carol opened a square box. Inside, there were brand new winter boots, perfect for walking in the snow.
“I don’t understand,” said Carol, putting down the boots. “Why would someone send me frikkin’ shoes like I’m Cinderella or something?”
“You just answered your own question,” said Avery. “You probably have your own fairy reindeer — err, I mean, godmother.”
“Reindeer?” asked Carol.