“Use the magic surrounding the reindeer. It acts like my sword and if any get through, well, Joy will do the job.”

  “So, instead of evasive action, we play a little chicken.” My father grins and that light that always seems to be in his eyes brightens.

  Santa is enjoying the idea of battle, like he used to enjoy our sparring sessions while he taught me the different forms of martial arts. I didn’t think I’d live to see the day where we would be in a fight together, but the shine in his smile tells me his adrenaline is running just as high as mine, even without a weapon.

  “I’ll be Home for Christmas” transitions to “We Need a Little Christmas,” and our voices seem to echo off the land.

  Dad steers the sleigh straight for the perytons and after the leading ones hit the magical barrier around the reindeer, and turn into a glitter storm, the rest of the perytons scatter like seagulls when a child runs right for them on a beach.

  Santa pursues a group that veer to the right as I spin Joy over my head, protecting us from above. But that leaves us vulnerable on both sides. I keep sweeping my gaze back and forth to ensure that an attack is not coming in either direction.

  The reindeer sing louder as they dash from peryton to the next peryton, laughing with joy as the beasts explode into glitter when the barrier hits them. I guess it’s better than sending torrents of blood over us.

  Joy transitions to “Feliz Navidad,” and the upbeat tempo seems to give us all an extra boost. I’m swinging away around us, chopping down those that try to attack from the sides, when a sudden sting throws me forward. I nearly lose Joy as I sail over the front of the sleigh.

  It takes me a moment to realize my left shoulder is impaled on one of the monster’s antlers. Pain flares, and I cry out as it lifts me higher, away from the sleigh. Santa looks up at me with wide eyes. He doesn’t see the two perytons aiming at his blind side.

  “Bank right!” I call out, and the reindeer do as I say, still singing the song that Joy leads. I cannot see the sleigh below to make sure they turned in time to save my father from the same fate.

  I snarl as the peryton takes me higher and farther from Santa. I swing Joy behind me and am rewarded with a puff of glitter. Then gravity takes hold and I’m in a free fall, without the sleigh or reindeer below to catch me. Another peryton charges for me in the sky. The blaze in its eyes makes me swallow hard. His antlers are longer than my sword.

  The singing becomes louder, surrounding me like a warm blanket. I don’t dare deviate my attention away from the murderous beast charging at me, or look at the drop below that would certainly steal my life away. Magic strokes my skin, reaching for me, pulling me back to safety.

  Before the beast reaches me, Dasher comes up beneath me, and I land on his back with a thump that sends air rushing from my lips. And yet again, I almost lose my grip on Joy.

  My shoulder screams upon impact, but no sound escapes from my mouth as I try to make my lungs pull air in instead of feeling this vortex sucking my last breath from me. The barrier in front of Dasher and Dancer rams into the peryton who thought he’d target me, turning him into a plume of colorful glitter.

  I swing my gaze around, looking for the rest of the monsters, but the sky is empty. It seems we annihilated all of them, or the survivors decided they liked living more than whatever deal they had made to take down Santa.

  I wish I had a chance to pry a name from their dirty mouths.

  I wish I had a target for this unhealthy anger rising inside me.

  “That was the last one,” Santa calls to me.

  I turn and nod, sliding Joy back into her sheath. Before I climb off Dasher, I stroke his head and neck and give him a hug.

  “Thanks for saving my ass,” I whisper.

  “Thanks for saving all our asses,” he says back, glancing over his shoulder. “Lord knows some of us are not worthy.” His cheeks turn red, and he faces forward.

  “You and Dancer are worthy.”

  He huffs at me. “We didn’t realize that eggnog was spiked,” he replies softly. “It was just left outside by the back door for anyone to get into, and it smelled so good.”

  I blink and look at the two reindeer. “You didn’t sneak a drink through the kitchen window to get it?”

  They shake their heads. “That is not allowed.” Only one reindeer would break the rules without so much as a reprimand, and he had been more blitzed than these two. “Besides, Rudolph found it first, and Dancer and I just wanted a taste,” Dasher adds. “Tell Santa we’re very sorry.”

  “I will.” I pat his neck. “But I think you just made up for it.” I climb off him onto the pole connecting all the reindeer to the sleigh. “You didn’t happen to see who put the bowl out, did you?”

  “No, we didn’t,” both Dasher and Dancer say at the same time.

  Disappointment laces my mouth, overriding the dull throbbing in my shoulder. I head forward, with my gaze dancing around the sky, looking for the next attack. When I glance at my father, his brow furrows with worry.

  I step over the front of the sleigh and collapse onto the seat next to him.

  “You’re injured.” His voice holds pain and anguish.

  I glance down at my shoulder and try not to wince as I take stock of my torn jacket and the equally damaged skin beneath. At least the monster was kind enough not to hit any bone. It’s a clean shot right through me. “It’ll heal.”

  My father hands me the reins, then takes hold of both sides of my body. He closes his eyes, and a deep crease appears as he brings his eyebrows together in concentration. His cheeks turn red, and finally, opens his eyes once more.

  “What are you trying to do?” I cock an eyebrow at him.

  He drops his hands and stares at his bloody palms as though they failed him in some manner. With a sigh and a wiggle of his fingers, he has two of those bandages with the self-stick edges. “Lean forward,” he says, proceeding to patch up the entry and exit wounds.

  Chapter 7

  We continue delivering gifts as if it were just another normal Christmas Eve. But tonight has been anything but normal, as evidenced by my father’s nearly shredded and blood-stained suit and my torn jacket. Black leather doesn’t show blood the way his white fur does, and I stare at the stains as he settles into the seat next to me. My wound itches and I shift in the seat, stanching the overriding need to scratch at it.

  “Who would want you dead?” I meet his gaze with my own.

  He purses his lips, as if there is a long list to consider, and as he looks out at the reindeer, he sighs and snaps the reins.

  It’s all a bit unnerving.

  “Is there someone?” I press, because his reaction is not what I had expected.

  “There could be a few. I got a little ornery with some of the elves the other day when they tried to bring up making my toy factory a union shop.”

  I snort a laugh. “Union? Why do they want a union?”

  “Fair wages, reasonable hours, ability to move up in the ranks. That’s what they spouted.” He sighs and wipes his face. “All the normal things a union shop wants to control. And I got the explicit feeling that the last demand was the most important. Even though there is no true upward movement among elves. Sure, they can go from toy making to management, but that’s as high as they can go. Unless they’re vying for my job, but that isn’t possible.”

  I chuckle and shake my head. “Union shop at the North Pole. What a farce.”

  He glances over at me with a nod. “That was my reaction. And apparently it angered some of the boys.”

  I am compelled to point out the obvious. “Anger and premeditated murder are two different beasts.”

  Santa shrugs. “True. But I’d know who, along with the very reason why, if we were being attacked by an actual person. The naughty list would spell it out for me like a neon beacon.” He directs the reindeer toward a nearby neighborhood. “Elves and monsters are not on any of my lists.” He glances at me again. “And the only beings with enough magic at their disposal to control the monsters reside in or around the North Pole.”

  “We need to figure out who’s behind all this.” I scan the horizon. My gaze sweeps back and forth restlessly and my shoulder throbs in time with my heart. “What about the Winter Warlock?”

  Santa rolls his eyes. “It isn’t a witch or a warlock. They are on my list. I would know if it was one of their kind.”

  “Yes, but the Winter Warlock was evil in the past.”

  My father sighs. “He was never evil. He was just lonely, and while he did scare people, he never harmed a soul. Besides, he’s not the type who would put out a filthy contract on my life. If he wanted me dead, he wouldn’t leave it to anyone else to do the deed. He would do it himself.”

  My father is entirely too trusting. I pinch the bridge of my nose, thinking I don’t discount the Winter Warlock as a suspect. He has enough magic to control monsters, after all. “Who were the elves that asked about turning our toy shop into a union shop?”

  “Sunny and Vale.”

  The oldest damn elf in the entire North Pole, along with one of the dumbest. I wipe my face as we land on another roof. Then I give my father a strained smile, and he swirls into action, delivering gifts to the houses around us while I mull over the two names.

  Sunny isn’t just the oldest, either. He’s in charge of the reindeer on Christmas Eve, as well as the toy factory.

  “Did anyone see who left the eggnog out?” I ask, and the exasperation of our situation bleeds through into my voice.

  Cupid cocks his head as he turns toward me. “I didn’t see who left it out, but I’m pretty sure it was Elise who took the empty eggnog container inside. She didn’t look happy about it, either. I caught some of her mutterings about who under the heavens left the eggnog pot outside, of all places.”

  “Elise?” Elise is Sunny’s wife, and she’s in charge of the kitchen on most days. She makes a scrumptious Christmas cookie, too. I bite my lower lip as Cupid nods at me. She is not naturally chipper like most elves. She practically glowers at me whenever I come home, whereas the others smile and flit around me, asking a thousand and one questions.

  The lights dance back into the seat next to me before they form back into my father.

  I tell him, “Cupid says Elise brought the bowl in from outside, but she seemed agitated with it not being in the right place.” I tilt my head. “Do you think Sunny could be angry enough that he would manipulate the monsters to try to kill you?”

  Santa levels his gaze at me, shaking his head. “You might want to stick with monster slaying. Your sleuth skills seem to be lacking.” He snaps the reins, and we are off to the next neighborhood.

  “Dad, I thought you said I could do anything if I put my mind to it.” I cross my arms and slouch in my spot next to him on the seat. But that doesn’t stop me from keeping a sharp eye on all that surrounds us. My nerves tingle, telling me the danger is far from over.

  My sideways glance at my father reveals that tic in his jaw that he usually has when he’s clenching it. The jolly Santa I’m used to is nowhere to be found. He is just as on edge as I feel.

  “You can, but I doubt we’ll be able to solve this mystery tonight. Not when I have a job to do and a time limit in which it must be done.” He sends his own strained smile my way. “In other words, I can’t focus on this until we have a reprieve over the Pacific.”

  We land effortlessly. And then he is gone in a sprinkle of light.

  I run my hand over my face. “God above, give me the strength to keep him safe tonight.” I glance at the heavens. My injury saps a little more of my power as the evening wears on.

  If we have to battle more gargoyles and perytons, I’m not sure I have the strength to keep them at bay. Not with a bum shoulder that stings every time I shift my weight. Even with Joy and Christmas magic at our disposal. I lean my head back against the hilt of my sword, and it vibrates as if it’s trying to tell me all will be well.

  I smile and sigh. My sword is even more optimistic than I am. I start to sing the song that inspired me to name my sword.

  “Joy to the world, the Lord is come. Let Earth receive her King.” The reindeer join in, and the song drifts softly over me. Magic tingles in my fingertips and down my spine as it takes hold of me.

  The Christmas spirit is still alive and vibrant, and it fills me with the same emotion as my sword’s namesake. I smile at the stars above, and all my doubt is erased away.

  I truly believe in the magic of this season.

  Chapter 8

  It isn’t until we are north of Mt. Rainier and heading toward Seattle that another disturbance appears in the distance. On the West Coast, there’s more cloud cover than the rest of the country, and it is hard to discern clouds from real threats.

  My muscles tense. The tic in my father’s tight jaw is back and it seems he stiffens as well. I rise to my feet, ignoring the protest of all my muscles, especially my shoulder, which sings a very loud and obnoxious tune of pain.

  I pull Joy from her sleeve.

  “Holly Jolly Christmas” rings out around us. I usually join in on this song, but I’m feeling sluggish and the best I can do is whisper the words. However, both the reindeer and my father seem to be all in with the song, sparking magic in the night.

  I squint as the clouds move in a strange manner. We are vulnerable here and don’t have enough power to wrap the sleigh and the reindeer in our protective buffer. I glance up at the thick cloud cover once more. If we were above this cover, it would be easier to defend the sleigh.

  “Go up. Above the clouds.”

  My father looks at me and then at the approaching mass, then pulls the reins back. The reindeer shoot almost vertically up, and I slam into the seat with the force. Thankfully, I don’t tumble right over the back or lose hold of Joy.

  As soon as we clear the cloud cover, the moon shines over the layer, making it look silver against the black sky. We continue singing, and the magical barrier stretches out below us.

  Something bumps into the sleigh, and a familiar burst happens. In front of us, nearly a half dozen monsters hit the barrier, and they burst into Christmas glitter. I am unsure what these are until one plunges through the clouds to the side of the sleigh.

  “Duck!” I yell at Santa before swinging in the direction of the gargoyle that reaches for him. Joy slices through meat and bone, and then the ugly thing turns to glitter.

  “Behind you!” he cries to me.

  Instead of stopping my swing, I spin, bringing Joy with me.

  The gargoyle is closer than the other one. Close enough for its claws to reach me. But I throw my injured arm up in a block, wincing at the drag of claws down my forearm just before the beast meets Joy and bursts into glitter.

  I sit down hard, breathing out in heaving pulls as my gaze travels around us to be sure we aren’t still under attack. When my gut tells me we’re safe, I slide Joy back into her holder and give my father a nod.

  He turns the sleigh, plummeting through the clouds to the next roof. Instead of immediately getting out, he conjures another bandage and wraps my arm in silence. His gaze locks on my face, and then he sits back in the seat once he’s done.

  “This is what you do every day?”

  I chuckle and shrug. “I usually don’t get impaled on an antler, but yes. This is my job.” He’s seen me dispatch a monster or two before when we’ve run across them, but it was rare, and it usually happened in remote areas like the Himalayas or the Andes. “Go. Time is ticking,” I say with a nod toward the chimney.

  In a blink, he turns into that magic stream of light.

  I close my eyes for a moment and then reach down under the dash of the sleigh, where I slipped a bottle of water before we set out. Thankfully, it hadn’t been dislodged and lost in all our evasive maneuvers throughout the night. I crack it open and take a sip. The cool liquid slides down my throat like it was heaven-sent. I cap it and stow it back where I found it, relishing the silence of the early hour.

  As we go north, we might hit some snow. I smile at the prospect.

  A scream shatters the night, and I’m instantly on my feet, scanning the street below. My father stumbles out the front door of the last house he had magically descended into the chimney to deliver his gifts. He makes it as far as the road and then falls to his knees.

  “Go!” I shout and the reindeer take off, landing right beside him on the wet asphalt.

  I’m out, with Joy in my hands. I don’t even look up at my surroundings as both Joy and the reindeer sing in the night. My father’s neck is slashed, and he glances at me as if all is lost.

  I lay Joy across his chest and put my hands on both sides of his throat. Joy switches to “Silent Night,” my particular power song, while I sing along and push all my healing magic into my father. His neck mends as Christmas magic swirls around us. My father’s eyes blink closed, and I will him to live, even if it means taking every last ounce of my life force.

  Santa is still pale, but his neck shows no sign of the gaping wound it had when he fell in the street. His chest rises and falls in even beats. I look up past the trail of blood, and a small child stands at the door of the house with her hand over her mouth.

  I climb to my feet, leaving Joy on my father to protect him while I pull daggers from my sheath. Whoever or whatever hurt my father is in this house, and they need to pay.

  “Is Santa...dead?” the child asks, her eyes wide and terrified.

  I glance at the open space behind her and shake my head. “No, he’s resting.” Then I crouch down to her level. If this child hadn’t screamed, we would have never known my father was in danger. “Did you see who hurt him?”

  Her eyes are almost too wide, and her little form starts shaking as if it’s freezing out. She nods. “A m-monster,” she whispers as her teeth start chattering.

  “Is it still in there?”

  Her eyes rise to look at something over my shoulder. That’s when my brain registers Joy’s music growing close. I turn and see Santa standing behind me, with Joy in his hand.

 

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