Snow and Mistletoe: A Christmas Short Story (The Guardian Trilogy Book 5)

  Snow and Mistletoe

  A Guardian Trilogy Christmas Short Story

  Copyright © 2014 by Liz Schulte

  Editing by Ev Bishop

  Cover design by Tell Tale Book Covers

  All rights reserved.

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the author of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  The suggested reading order for books in the Abyss World are as follows:

  Secrets (The Guardian Trilogy)

  Choices (The Guardian Trilogy)

  Consequences (The Guardian Trilogy)

  Easy Bake Coven (Easy Bake Coven series)

  Be Light (The Guardian Trilogy)

  Hungry, Hungry Hoodoo (Easy Bake Coven series)

  Pickup Styx (Easy Bake Coven series)

  Ember (The Jinn Trilogy)

  Good Tidings (Baker’s Christmas Short Story in Christmas Yet To Come Anthology)

  Snow and Mistletoe (Quintus’s Christmas Short Story)

  Tiddly Jinx (Easy Bake Coven series)

  Inferno (The Jinn Trilogy)

  Vestige (The Jinn Trilogy)

  Ollie, Ollie Hex ‘N Free (The Easy Bake Coven series)

  And two other books:

  Sweet Little Lies (Femi short story in Cupid Painted Blind)

  Good Tidings (Baker Christmas short story in the Christmas Yet to Come Anthology)

  To keep up with Liz’s latest releases sign up for her newsletter here

  http://lizschulte.us4.list-manage1.com/subscribe?u=b24d896a4369244959d216887&id=a525d7447f

  To all of my readers: Thank you for coming on these journeys into imagination and wonder with me. I love hearing from you and talking to you daily. You have lightened my heart and warmed my soul. I am forever in your debt. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all.

  Liz

  “It is, indeed, the season of regenerated feeling—the season for kindling, not merely the fire of hospitality in the hall, but the genial flame of charity in the heart.” Washington Irving

  Table of Contents

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  About The Author

  December was a guardian’s busiest month. Innumerable people were in crisis and so few willing to help. Every single guardian had been maxed out with cases since November, and even so we barely made a dent. Without question, it was (stronger)the worst time for a guardian to take off work, but that was exactly what Olivia did. It once again proved that she was still too human. What sort of example did that set for other guardians? We all worked through holidays because that was when we were needed the most. But Olivia wasn’t one for rules—obviously.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t understand where she was coming from. I sort of did. She wanted to spend the holidays with her mom, though technically her mother shouldn’t even know she was back. Introducing humans to our world never ended well for them. But I wasn’t in charge. Olivia could technically do whatever she wanted. She was, after all, an angel—and after what she did to the council, no one was going to say a word to her about it.

  Despite my disapproval, her Christmas party awakened something in me, however—something I thought I had long ago moved past. I missed my family. It was one thing to watch humans have their feasts and parties. They had such a short time in this world, they should celebrate. But seeing an angel cherish a holiday with those she loved most? It reminded me of one undeniable fact: I was alone.

  I shook self-pity off and knocked on her and Holden’s door. It opened almost immediately.

  “Merry Christmas,” Olivia said softly and smiled.

  The day had not dawned, but it was Christmas. Just beyond her, there was a blazing fire, stockings stuffed to their tops, and a glowing Christmas tree. I smiled back. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Let’s talk outside. Holden’s still sleeping.” She slipped out into the hallway and shut the door silently behind her. “Did you enjoy the party?”

  “Sure. It’s been ages since I did anything for the holiday.”

  She nodded, not looking surprised. “How’s your queue?”

  “Full, but I’m managing.” I bit my tongue against saying that I had been doing this for thousands of years. I certainly didn’t need to be checked up on.

  “I have another case for you. A special one.”

  I swallowed a sigh. “I’ll find someone who can take it. I’m full up.”

  She shook her head. “It’s for you, Quintus. Just you.”

  Anxiety immediately drenched my irritation. The last time I was specially assigned a case was when Olivia was human and everything that could go wrong did. I failed her and allowed the jinni and Hell to get entirely too close. “I’ll find a way to squeeze it in. Do you have the particulars?”

  She handed me a bright green note with a sticky back; it bore only a name and an address.

  “Not much to go on,” I said.

  “I want to show you the rest.” Light spread over her and she was gone.

  I looked at the address again and followed. I reformed on a residential street. The houses were older, but carefully maintained. Tiny lights twinkled on most of them in the darkness and crisp air mingled with the sweet, woodsy smell of fireplaces—snow couldn’t be far. Olivia sat on the porch of a dark house. I went over and sat next to her. “What’s so special about this case?”

  Her teeth flashed in the darkness. “What do you think of the house?”

  I shrugged. “It’s fine. Why?”

  “Come look.” She didn’t transport in, but took out a key and opened the door and flipped on a light.

  It was small, but inviting and tastefully decorated for Christmas. I recognized some of the furniture as my own which made no sense because we were in Colorado and I lived in Italy with no intentions of moving. “What’s going on?”

  “Welcome to your new home.” She held her arms out wide. “At least for the next week.”

  “What?” None of this made sense. I could just as easily transport back and forth. I didn’t need a residence to work a case.

  Olivia gave me a patient look. “For the next week you will stay here, visible to humans. Helping Parker Wells find the right path will be your only job.”

  “But—”

  She shook her head. “I’ll personally take care of all your other cases and anything new that comes in. This is what you need to focus on.”

  I ran my fingers through my hair. “Why? If you’re assigning me to her, she must important. With you, I didn’t know enough. This time, I want to know everything.”

  Her chin lifted. “I thought you’d be more excited. You can stop running around so much and really connect with someone.”

  I sighed. “Olivia, there’s too much to do to waste time.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, a stubborn expression settling on her mouth. “I’m not wast
ing time. This is important.”

  I nodded slowly. “Good. Tell me why.”

  She went and sat on the couch. “Parker is at a crossroad. If she goes left, we’ll lose her forever. If she turns right, one day she’ll join us.”

  “When?” I asked.

  “Ten years.”

  “She’ll be a guardian?”

  “It depends on what happens here, this week.”

  Finally things made a little more sense. It wasn’t the way we normally did things, but then again, Olivia could see me when she was human. She never did like the secrecy we operated under. “You want this Parker person to see me? How much do I tell her?”

  “Yes, I want her to see you and interact with you—but her destiny isn’t set. Telling her anything would be misleading and it could unpredictably change her course at this point. All you need to do is help her see her choices more clearly.”

  “And when I’m done?”

  “Go home. The house will revert to what it was.”

  “What’s after her? Another jinni?”

  Olivia shook her head. “Nothing more than fate.”

  “I really don’t think I need a week to do this.”

  “And yet you have a week. If you need anything let me know. She’s about to arrive home.” She nodded to the window then was away in a flash.

  A car pulled up outside, backfiring and sputtering to a stop. A nearby streetlight revealed a young woman behind the steering wheel. She stared at the house on the other side of the lane, frowning, and then checked out her reflection in the rearview mirror. She looked tired as she tucked a chunk of chin length purple hair behind her ear and wiped her finger beneath each eye. She shook her head and got out, shoulders sagging, and grabbed a small duffel bag from the backseat. I glanced back at the house. No lights came on. No one was waiting for her to get home. Maybe she lived alone.

  I glanced at the clock, nearly 6 a.m. I needed to see exactly what I was dealing with before I could figure out what I needed to do. I always found it easier to be objective and helpful when didn’t interact with my clients, but I would obey Olivia and reveal myself—just not right now. I transported across the street and into the house the girl entered.

  An old wooden staircase and a wide hallway greeted me. The house wasn’t large. The space had a worn, lived in feel that verged on tattered. A low hum of music came from a room to my left. In a faded plaid recliner with tufts of exposed yellow foam slept a man. His face was coarse and his mouth sagged open as Christmas music competed with his snores. A bottle of whiskey lay empty on its side next to his chair, and the muted TV blinked and flickered next to the unlit Christmas tree, providing the only light in the room.

  The pretty lavender-haired girl came in and stood next to me, her shoulder nearly touching my sweater, her arms hung loosely at her side as she took in the room much the same way I just had. She had changed into fuzzy pink pajamas decorated with a cartoon kitten of some sort. Her hair was in stubby pigtails just behind her ears and her face was pink from being freshly washed, but it didn’t hide the heavy bags beneath her eyes. She was probably in her twenties, which led me to one unassailable conclusion—attractive or not, I would never understand modern women.

  She frowned and walked over to the chair. “Dad.” She shook his shoulder. “I’m home. You should go upstairs. You fell asleep in your chair.”

  The snoring paused briefly before it started again.

  She sighed, flipping off the television. “More like passed out,” she muttered as she retrieved a blanket from the floor, shook it off, and gently covered him before pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Good night, Daddy.”

  Her hand hesitated on the radio, eyes brimming as she listened for a moment before turning off too. “Pull yourself together, Parker. It’s just week then a whole year before you have to do it again.”

  She strolled toward the kitchen, running her finger along the wall. Settling into a chair at a junk covered table, she pulled out her phone, stared at the blank screen for a moment, then licked her lips and unlocked it. She typed a quick message to someone named Justin. “I made it here. No snow yet.”

  Her aura was bright around her, as all potential guardians’ auras were, but unlike most, thin lines of darkness had started to spread out from her in a spider web pattern. The high council would have seen her as too far gone, but of course Olivia didn’t. She never gave up on anyone. She waited a few minutes for a reply, but when nothing came she pursed her lips and typed more. “Don’t be like that. It’s my dad. I had to come.” Still no reply. She shook her head and put the phone away.

  She opened the refrigerator, wrinkling her nose at the contents. Taking a deep breath she retrieved the large trashcan and began throwing things away. When she was done, she hefted the now full bag out of the can, tied it off, and put it by the door. She studied the rest of the filthy kitchen and one side of her mouth twitched. “Welcome home, kiddo.” She snorted and turned off the light as if she couldn’t stand looking at it any longer. She went upstairs and closed her bedroom door behind her.

  I looked back at the snoring man. This was going to be easier than I thought.

  Parker was obviously upset about her father being an alcoholic. It was completely fixable. I would be home before nightfall. I went back into the living room and inspected his aura. It had yellowed considerably from that of a normal aura—not a good sign. I reached down and wrapped my fingers around his arm, closing my eyes so I could focus simply on what I felt in him.

  There was no doubt, he was sick. Probably terminal. Did they know? Though guardians could aid in some healing, they couldn’t handle something like this. When Death marked a person as his, we couldn’t interfere. This man wouldn’t live to see next Christmas and I couldn’t change that. I could, however, help them have a good last Christmas. I laid my hands on his chest and focused on the addiction, extracting it and the alcohol until my fingers tingled. I took a step back. The man jerked in his chair, and then his eyes popped open and he sat up. He looked around the room like he didn’t know where he was until his gaze rested on the dark tree. A deep frown creased his mouth and he rubbed at the thick salt and pepper stubble around his jaw. He stood up and stretched before going to the window and peering out at Parker’s car.

  He climbed the stairs with heavy steps and knocked softly on the same door Parker had gone through. She didn’t answer, but he cracked the door open and peeked inside. She was in bed with the covers pulled up high and tight around her chin as she pretended to sleep. He watched her for a few moments, eyes glistening.

  “Welcome home, kiddo,” he whispered, echoing her words from before, as he closed the door and went across the hall to his room. I transported into her room. Her large brown eyes were open now and full of worry. Her aura was unchanged, but she didn’t really know he was sober yet. In a couple hours though, everything would sort itself out perfectly.

  I went back across the street and walked around the house Olivia acquired for me. Everything about it was me, not her. She’d done a good job pinpointing the things that made a home mine. She had my favorite chair, a painting that hung in my living room that reminded me of my childhood so long ago, and even the book I had been reading. I stared at the picture for a moment. There wasn’t anything particularly special about the painting other than the way it made me feel, so how did she know? It was a landscape with a few people in the foreground, a bright blue sky, a green mountain, and a river, but it was home to me. A home, like my memories, that vanished over time. Too long had passed and over enough years everything fades. I shook off the thoughts and refocused on the room.

  The Christmas tree was decorated simply with gold and orange balls and pinecones. An angel, of course, topped it off. She had always been good at details. A bright red ribbon beneath the tree caught my eyes. I reached under and pulled out a present in a medium sized square box. I read the tag. “To Quintus, Open when you finish. Merry Christmas, Olivia.” Though I was tempted to open the gift now, I placed
it back under the tree. I continued to familiarize myself with the house. In the kitchen sat two plates of cookies and candies. They looked exactly the same, but one had a note on it instructing me to take it to the Wells family with a card, which made me laugh. She really had thought of everything, but this wasn’t my first time in the field.

  I signed the Christmas card that was to go across the street, then picked up the treats she left me. Back in the living room, I sat in my chair next to the warm fire, picked up my book and happily snacked and read the time away.

  By noon it was safe to go back over to check on Parker’s progress. I took the time to put on a coat and gloves, though I don’t really feel the cold, gathered up the plate and card and headed out into the whistling wind. Heavy gray clouds covered the sky, threatening to open at any moment, but so far nothing. The street was empty as I crossed it slowly, careful of the ice. About the time I reached the porch, Parker came out, slamming the door behind her and talking to herself.

  She jumped when she saw me, her eyes immediately narrowing. “Who are you?”

  “Just a neighbor. I moved in recently. I thought I’d bring over cookies and introduce myself.” I held out the plate as a peace offering. The black lines in her aura had grown. How was that possible?

  She hesitated before taking them with a sigh. “Thanks.”

  “Um, Merry Christmas.” Another door slammed deep inside the house. What had happened in there?

  She rolled her eyes. “Yeah. It’s freaking spectacular.”

  “Holidays can be hard,” I said.

  “You think? The one thing that makes visiting family bearable during the holidays is alcohol. Now all of a sudden my father—the man who just last night was passed out—gets it in his head to dump it all out. He’s lost his mind. Suddenly, he’s father of the year. I don’t think so. I can’t be in there right now.”

  She was dressed mostly in black, but none of the articles of clothing looked warm enough to be outside in. The short leather jacket couldn’t have done much but block the wind.

  “You gotta problem?” she asked, stomping her combat boots on the porch as she wrapped her arms around herself.