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She smiled down at me and kissed the top of my head. “I’ve missed you too, honey. But you’re here now! And it’s Christmas!”
I gave her a shaky laugh. I had forgotten how much Clair loved Christmas.
She always joked that she loved the Santa Claus kind of Christmas. She loved giving gifts to people, family gatherings, good food, and the tacky ornaments and stupid crafts that we had always done together when I was a child.
She loved reading ‘The Night Before Christmas,’ every year on Christmas eve, drinking eggnog and leaving cookies out for the big man in red, and carrots and celery out for Rudolph. We had carried this tradition on long after I had stopped believing.
She had told me that when she was a child they had not celebrated Christmas. And every year she had always wished, just once, they could put up a big old tree like they did in the specials on TV. She had resolved as a young child that when she grew up, and had her own family, she would make it fun and special.
She had delivered on that promise.
Despite having been a relatively angry and lonely child, I had still looked forward to Christmas every year, because of Clair.
“I’m so glad you’re here! Where’s Amon?” She asked, and I frowned. Where was Amon? I felt a twinge of dread in my chest. Something was nipping at the edges of my memory. It had to do with Amon, I think I had to find him… was he missing?
The twinkling lights in the garland that twisted up the railing leading upstairs briefly flashed red. For a moment, I thought I caught a glimpse of a dragonfly made up entirely of fire. I blinked, and it was gone. It was just a banister wrapped in evergreen and sparkling lights.
“I’m sure he’ll be here shortly.” She said cheerfully, pulling away. “Why don’t you take off your boots and hang up your coat? Everyone’s waiting for you!”
I watched her disappear down the hall and back into the kitchen. I still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Where was Amon? Why did I have this horrible feeling that I shouldn’t be here at all? I had something important that I needed to do…
“Hello, Raven.” My heart leapt to my throat at the words. I felt as if time slowed down as I turned.
There he was, leaning against the door frame, looking at me as if I were the most precious gift on earth.
Amon.
His silver hair reflected the warm reds and yellows of the Christmas lights on the porch behind him. His eyes were greener than the garland Clair had draped over every surface. His black cloak brushed against his boots, and his beautiful hands were painted in black leather gloves. Those elegant, gloved fingers cradled a gift wrapped in green paper, topped with a black silky bow.
“Amon,” I breathed and all at once my heart went from standing still, to sprinting a marathon. I ran to him, and his eyes widened slightly in surprise. I launched myself into his arms, and he quickly floated the gift away so his hands were free to catch me.
The scent of him enveloped me, and suddenly I was drowning in cinnamon. His lips lowered to mine as my arms wrapped around his neck and he spun me around. His mouth smiled against me and he kissed me so deeply, I felt I might never find my way up for air.
After one full, delicious circle, he pulled back just enough to gently rest his forehead against mine. He rubbed the tips of our noses against each other slowly. The world fell away, and I was home. He cupped the side of my face with his gloved hands, looking deep into my eyes.
“Merry Christmas, my love.” He whispered before giving me another soft kiss on the lips, lingering long enough to pull my bottom lip into his mouth. He briefly sucked on it, as if he were savoring the taste of me. As if he would drink me up until there was nothing left.
“Where have you been?” I asked softly against his lips, my fingers twining up into his silver hair, holding on for dear life. My lashes brushed wet tears against my cheeks and my throat closed tight around the words. I was afraid. I was so afraid that if I let him go, he would disappear.
“In all the wrong places,” he murmured back just as softly, before wrapping his own fingers into my hair and pulling me back into him, his tongue slid against my mouth gently. I gasped and opened for him as he sipped from me, as if sharing this space was not enough. He wanted every piece of me. He wanted to share my breath, my body, my soul. Wet lips and pebbled skin. Whispered promises and tender words of praise. He wanted all of me and it would still never be enough.
He reluctantly pulled away, smiling down at me with lazy, hooded eyes and I whimpered at the tiny sliver of space he had created between us. I was terrified I would lose him again… the thought stopped me in my tracks. Again? Had I lost him before? He rubbed a thumb firmly over my cheek, wiping away a salty tear that I hadn’t realized had formed.
“Easy, my dark, dangerous, little Queen,” his voice was like velvet against my skin, and I shuddered against him before he pulled further back. He slid his hands into my coat and peeled it off my shoulders. The way he was looking at me, made me feel as if he wished he were removing more than just the jacket from my body.
He plucked the gift from where it had been floating patiently in the air behind us. I moved to take my coat from him, but he chuckled and shook his head, handing me the gift instead.
He draped my jacket over his arm and used his free hand to wrap around the back of my neck, pulling me in once more to place a tender kiss on my forehead.
“I’ve got this, my love,” he said, referring to my coat. “Why don’t you put that under the tree? I’ll meet you there.” My heart tightened at the thought of letting him out of my sight, but I jumped again as more familiar voices spilled down the hallway, beckoning me forward.
“Kitten, for fuck sakes what’s taking so long?” Rycon poked his head out from the kitchen to see what the hold-up was. “Are you coming? I need your help with the potatoes. The Obeah Man is shit with a peeler, let me tell you.”
“Yuh cya’an shet up!?” Conrad exclaimed in indignation from somewhere out of sight. “A nuh me fault yuh give me dis dull dagger to peel potatoes. What kind of mercenary carry ‘round a dull knife like dis?”
I bit back a laugh as I took a step forward. I paused briefly, thinking I caught movement from one of the lights in the garland by the railing again. I could swear there was a buzz from what sounded like insect wings.
“Raven, honey? Are you coming?” Clair called, and I shook off the strange feeling.
