A Wizard for Christmas (3 page)

“She-she-she said that she—!” Kara shouted.

“Please.” Stone held up a hand. “Speak slowly and softly.”

Kara struggled for a smooth breath.

“She-she’s leaving.”

“Who?” Stone asked, stiffly.

“The New One.”

Hadrian was afraid of that.

“I overheard her saying that she’s going away for Christmas. She’s leaving on Monday.”

Stone turned his hard glare on Hadrian. “Did you know this?”

“She said something about it the other day.”

Stone sighed deeply. “That is a problem.”

Kara was still dancing from one foot to the other. “But we need her here. She needs time to understand and to help us. You can’t let her go.”

“What do you suggest I do, Kara?” Hadrian demanded. “Kidnap her? She needs to trust us.”

Stone pursed his lips and, frustratingly, didn’t offer a lick of help.

“The poor dear.” Kara sank into Hadrian’s chair before he could sit back down in it. “She’s so young. I almost wish we could let her spend this one last Christmas with her family without knowing about this.”

“Her family?” Hadrian felt as if he’d been slapped. He’d been watching her for three years. He should have known everything about her by now. How could he have missed something as important as a family?

“That’s what she said.”

“She’s like us,” Stone said. “How could you forget that?”

“I assumed a family adopted her. Couldn’t it happen?”

“It never has before,” Jake said from the front counter. “We’re the castoffs. The unwanted. The unloved.”

“Thanks a lot, Jake,” Kara grumbled. “You make us sound like a miserable lot.”

“We were...before Stone found us,” Jake pointed out.

“Well, I heard her talking about her Christmas plans,” Kara said. “The New One didn’t sound the least bit miserable.”

Hadrian raised a brow at that. He and Stone had thoroughly researched her background. They’d watched her for years. She was one of them.

“There’s no family,” Stone said as he shifted uneasily in his chair.

“Then what is she up to?” Hadrian wondered aloud.

* * * *

The third body in three days. The sight of the young woman in the city flower garden churned in Newton’s stomach. He’d attended some of the most gruesome crime scenes without flinching. No matter how torn up the body, he could handle it.

But this...this was worse.

“She looked asleep,” the beat cop who found her said.

“Yep,” Newton agreed. Not even a hair out of place. It looked like she had laid down in the snow-powdered bed and died. Only, she didn’t look dead. Even her skin looked flush and healthy. It made his skin crawl.

He looked around for Hadrian Graham. But there was no sign of the cursed man this morning. For once, Newton wanted the bastard to show up. He had some questions for him. And he wasn’t going to let Hadrian leave before he got some answers.

“Does this look like a murder to you?” Newton asked the cop standing beside him.

“No sir. Not at all, sir.”

“It doesn’t to me, either.” But Hadrian had said it was murder—at least that’s what he said of the first two bodies they’d found. And so that’s how the department was treating the deaths, despite the coroner’s reports to the contrary. The heart stopped beating. The organs stopped functioning. Everything stopped. For no apparent reason, everything had simply stopped.

Still, this morning there was no sign of Hadrian.

“Perhaps this one is different,” Newton grumbled to himself. But he knew he was wrong.

* * * *

What a holly-jolly Christmas this was turning into. Holly slumped down, using her luggage as a stool and propped her head up with her hands as the people rushing by sent curious glances in her direction.

Every single hotel was booked.

No room in the inn. Anywhere.

And no one was offering her a manger, which she would have gladly accepted since she’d rather sleep in the cold than return to her apartment and admit to her friends that she didn’t have anyone. That she’d never, ever had a “real” family Christmas.

Sure, the orphanage would put up a tree and presents would arrive from unnamed donors. But it wasn’t the same as waking up on Christmas morning in a fluffy bed in a safe, loving home with the knowledge that she was wanted. And loved.

Mary had Joseph.

Charlie Brown had Linus. And Snoopy.

God, why couldn’t she grow up and accept the truth? She didn’t have a family. But she did have friends. She could be at Priscilla’s enjoying the day with her three small kids. Or with Karen listening to her mother moan and complain about her ungrateful, unmarried daughter.

It wasn’t exactly pride that kept her out in the cold, she realized. It was her refusal to admit that the fantasy wasn’t real.

She wanted that life, that perfect image of Christmas so badly that she was willing to make herself miserable to get it.

The sky was turning dark. The temperature dropping dramatically. And she had nowhere to go.

She closed her eyes and pictured what her imaginary family would be doing right now. Decorating the tree? Sipping on hot apple cider? Or perhaps simply enjoying each other’s company. As long as they were together, it didn’t matter.

What a wonderful vacation. She would have so many stories to share with her friends when she got back.

“I’m sorry, Miss.” The doorman of the hotel she’d been sitting in front of tapped her on the shoulder. “You cannot stay here.”

She pulled herself to her feet. Dragging her luggage behind her, she headed toward the train station. If she was lucky, she’d find an empty bench to sleep on there.

* * * *

It was hungry. So hungry. The meals weren’t satisfying anymore. The humans had changed. They were missing something. Something important.

The ancient spirit trudged down the road, rubbing at the ache in its belly, not at all sure what to do.

But what was that? It sniffed the air and smelled the sweet, homey scent it craved.

A young woman was struggling with a suitcase as it bounced down the uneven sidewalk. The sweet scent was coming from her. Interesting...

It followed.

* * * *

Christmas music was being piped onto the streets. Deck the Halls and Fa, La, La, La, La....Holly was ready to deck something. Fa, La, La, La, that.

Her suitcase toppled over again.

And again she had to stop, put the suitcase back on its wheels before she could continue dragging her personal albatross down the street. Why had she packed so many clothes? This was insane.

A few bouncy steps more the suitcase hit a deep rut and one of the wheels got stuck. Brilliant. It took some effort to pry the wheel from the crack in the walk. And she was getting colder by the minute.

When she started pulling it again, she ran straight into an arm. A healthy male arm.

“Need a hand?” Hadrian asked. He was leaning against the storefront and blocking her way. He smiled. It made her stomach do a little flip.

“I-I’m okay,” she said, and tried to push him out of her path. She didn’t trust him. He was too interested in her, and she didn’t understand why.

“Didn’t you say you were going out of town?” His brow kicked up as he eyed her suitcase. “I didn’t realize you were walking to your destination.”

“I’m heading over to the train station.”

“Really? That’s blocks from here. Let me drive you.”

Her throbbing feet wanted to scream, “Yes!” She’d dragged her suitcase from one end of town to the next in search of a non-existent hotel room. Her feet didn’t want to take another step. Ever.

“I’m okay,” she said much to her feet’s chagrin. But if he drove her to the train station, there would be a good chance he’d insist on staying with her until her train left. And she had no ticket because she had nowhere to go, and what was she doing telling complete strangers about her fantasy trip home in the first place?

She pushed him out of the way and hauled herself forward. He caught the handle of her suitcase.

“You’re limping,” he said.

“I’m fine.” She tried to pry his hand loose.

“You’re exhausted.”

“I’m not.” His fingers wouldn’t budge.

“You’re afraid of me.”

Her gaze flashed up to his face. He looked harmless, but then so did many of the mass murderers caught in recent years.

“I’m being reasonably cautious,” she said, tugging at the handle with all her weight. “Let go of my suitcase or I’ll scream.”

He let go so fast she nearly smashed her face against the sidewalk.

“You know me, Holly.” He sounded so darned reasonable. “Deep in your heart, you know me. You know I’m not a threat to you.”

“Perhaps. But maybe I’m not a very good judge of people. There is no Oblique Café. No one in my building has ever heard of it. I think you drugged me. Or hypnotized me.”

“Hypnosis? Really? That’s the best your wildly imaginative mind could come up with?”

“Goodbye Hadrian. Have a very merry Christmas.”

She stuck her chin in the air and hoped she looked determined when she felt anything but. Tears stung the backs of her eyes. This was her chance, perhaps her one chance to spend Christmas with someone. Anyone.

She stopped, but didn’t turn around.

“What if I told you I didn’t have anywhere to go?” she asked the empty space in front of her.

“I’d ask what happened to your apartment,” he answered.

“It’s a long story.”

“Hmmm...”

“It’s a stupid, long story,” she amended.

“There’s plenty of time to tell it, you know. There’s six days before Christmas.”

She wanted to laugh. But if she did, she’d probably end up crying. So she bit her lower lip.

“What should I do?” It was a desperate plea. A question framed more for herself than for anyone else.

“Come to the café with me. Jake has a room upstairs. It’s not the Ritz, but it’s comfortable. And affordable.”

His offer sounded like a blessing.

“But there is no café.”

“Not in this world. But, Holly, it does exist.” He held out his hand. “Believe me. It exists as a refuge for people like you...and me.”

“A refuge?” That sounded wonderful. The rest didn’t make sense, but Holly was too tired to care. She closed her eyes but not before a tear seeped out. “Okay,” she whispered.

* * * *

“It wasn’t an accident or an act of charity,” the tall arctic blond man had admonished. Hadrian had introduced the man as Frank Stone. Stone seemed to be in charge. Everyone else listened whenever he spoke.

“But I had nowhere to go. I would have ended up sleeping in the train station.” Holly gushed. Jake, The Oblique Café’s manager, had insisted she stay the week in the small apartment located above the café. It was a beautiful studio loft that was about twice the size of her apartment and about half the cost.

She still couldn’t image why she couldn’t find the café the other day. It was less than a block from her apartment. She could see her apartment window from the café door.

“You’re one of us, Holly,” Frank said. He sounded deadly serious. “It’s not charity when it’s what you deserve. It’s time that you understand. You’re one of us.”

She glanced around the café. A little more than a dozen faces were all staring at her. Silent. Watching.

“One of you? How?” she asked. A prickle of unease crawled up her scalp.

“It’s difficult to explain,” Frank said. “We aren’t like the people you pass on the street. We’re different.”

“Better,” someone in the café muttered.

“Different,” Frank corrected.

“You were an orphan? You have no family?”

“How do you know that? And why do you all know my name?” Her gaze bounced from face to face. Expressions that had looked friendly and inviting a moment ago, now appeared suspicious. Dangerous.

“As soon as we realized you were one of us,” Frank said, “we started keeping watch to make sure the darkness didn’t consume—”

“Ohhh-kay.” They’d been stalking her? She held up her hands to keep them all back while she gathered her thoughts. Piece by piece things started to slide together. Hadrian going out of his way to find her. Their friendliness to a stranger. But she wasn’t a stranger to them. They’d been stalking her.

She gave a nervous laugh. “I knew that apartment was too good to be true. I’ve landed myself in a cult.”

She edged toward the door. “Thank you for your hospitality, but I’m not really cult material. I like to eat meat. My mind wanders, so meditation is out. And, boy, don’t get me started about following the rules. I’m not very good at it.” Hadrian was following her to the door. “You look so normal, too.” She patted Hadrian’s strong chest. “A shame. But sorry. I’m more interested in sitting on a sofa and watching TV at night than attending weird cult meetings.”

“You don’t have to stay here,” Hadrian said, quietly. “I only brought you to the café, because you had nowhere else to go.”

“We’re not a cult, Holly,” Frank said.

“I’m out of here.” Holly pushed Hadrian out of her way on her way to the door.

“You can’t push her like that,” she heard Hadrian scold as she charged out onto the street. She’d abandoned her luggage that had already been put in the room upstairs and had missed out on getting to taste the chocolate croissants for a second time.

“We don’t have time, damn it,” Stone’s low voice followed her as she ran. “Her life is already in grave danger.”

* * * *

Hadrian wanted to punch a wall. He’d lost Holly. This time he had no idea where she went. She’d left her warm coat, her suitcase, and her purse at the café.

She was scared. Obviously overwhelmed. And, for some unfathomable reason, unwilling to go back to her apartment. He wished he’d demanded she tell him why. What was she up to? What kind of trouble had she gotten herself into?

He’d followed her that morning, expecting go to the airport and expecting to have to pay whatever it took to get a ticket on whatever flight she was taking to wherever it was she was going. Instead of having to scramble at the airport, he’d watched her go from hotel to hotel all day. Thanks to his use of a little “witchery” each hotel had turned her away.