Page 29 of Blood and Bells

He smirks, unbothered. “Good thing mine’s perfectly proportioned.”

Ronan and Crinkshaw both choke on cocoa in perfect unison while they stare at Nick like he’s just suggested they decorate a coffin for Christmas. And even though part of me is terrified about what lies before us in the Hollow of Mischief, I am genuinely enjoying teasing Nick.

“Keep telling yourself that,” I lean back, brushing imaginary dust off my clothes. “Just don’t expect me to carry you home if things go sideways.”

Nick chuckles, adjusting his perfectly cut shirt with an exaggerated flourish. “Please, Frost. If anyone’s doing the rescuing, it’ll be me—again. You’re falling quite a bit short on your side of the ledger.”

“Short?” I scoff, slurping my drink for dramatic effect. “Keep dreaming, Draven. The only thing coming up short is your memory.”

Nick throws his head back and laughs as I sip the last of my cocoa, letting the warmth steady me. Maybe, just maybe, Nick Draven isn’t the vampire I thought he was. And maybe that’s not such a bad thing.

Chapter Ten

Both Crinkshaw and Ronan insist on coming with us, and although I’ll never reveal any sort of weakness to the coven, I’m glad to have them by my side. I debated bringing more with me, but the Hollow of Mischief can react poorly to undead energy, and this might be one of those cases where less is more.

Against my wishes, Ronan insists on strapping his enormous battle axe to his back. Its name is Sally.

“Why not simply announce to the entire town that we’re striding into a mystery dimension?” I huff, folding my arms in irritation.

“Why, Mr. Draven,” Holly purrs, looking every inch the satisfied cat. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you flustered before.”

“I’m not flustered. This isn’t decorous.”

Ronan scoffs. “Decorum when we’re marching into a maze of mischief packed with elves?” His voice goes to a mocking falsetto. “Should we make tea, or bring a bottle of red? Crinkshaw, do you have any biscuits we could bring? Someone look up what Miss Manners says is an appropriate cadeau d’hôte for entering a dimension of pure evil. Nuts?”

“Alright, alright.” I shush him and glance at Crinkshaw. “What do you have ready for us?”

Crinkshaw lifts a tin. “Shortbread, mince pies, and a thermos. Also, hand warmers.”

“I meant for Holly.”

“Oh. That.” Crinkshaw produces a bracelet and locks it around her wrist. “This will protect the young lady from any of the dimension’s more aggressive effects on humans.”

“Perfect. We’ll head to where the Hollow of Mischief should appear. Then we’ll capture it and answer the riddle. It shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Wait,” Holly holds up her hand. “Riddle? There’s a riddle?”

“There’s almost always a riddle when dealing with elves. They’re obsessed with them.” Ronan tests the blade of his axe with his thumb.

“What happens if we get the riddle wrong?” she asks.

“Don’t worry about that,” he shrugs.

“Ronan,” she repeats firmly. “What happens if we get the riddle wrong?”

“Tinsel tendrils of unspeakable festive malice will—” Crinkshaw starts, but I interrupt him with a clap of my hands.

“Great talk, everyone. Let’s get going.”

Unsatisfied, Holly pesters me about the riddle as we walk to the garage, but it’s honestly for the best that she doesn’t learn any more. It’s not like we can do anything if we get it wrong. We’ll be almost immediately destroyed, our very molecules being tossed to the cosmic winds like confetti. At least it will be quick.

We make our way through the grounds, and it affords Holly a new opportunity to tease me. That, more than anything else, distracts her from her questions. Lucky me.

“What kind of cars do vampires drive?” she asks playfully. “A hearse seems too on the nose. A stagecoach of some kind? Or, I know, some deathly sleek sports car?”

“Not quite,” I say.

The garage is home to a fleet of cars, each acquired by different members of my coven. I throw open the broad, double doors and flick on the overhead lights. They click on one at a time, chasing away the cavernous darkness. The garage is the size of a small soccer field and full of all sorts of cars. I click the fob in my pocket, and we all hear the cheerful chirp-chirp.