Page 46 of Blood and Bells

Holly’s hands tighten on the wheel as we turn onto Main Street. “I don’t know if I can fix this. This is bigger than a missing tree. I don’t even understand what we’re dealing with anymore.”

“It’s not falling apart,” I reply. “Not while I’m here.”

She huffs out a breath. “You can’t promise that.”

“I can promise that you’re not doing this alone. You have me, the coven, and I’ll throw everything I have at this until your gala happens exactly as you want it to.”

“That’s a big promise, Draven.”

“I’m a big vampire.”

Marcy sighs softly in the back, clearly enjoying herself.

Holly shakes her head, but there’s a hint of something lighter there. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet,” I say, settling back, “I’m still your best option.”

She doesn’t argue.

I let the quiet sit while my plan settles into place.

All I need is a way in.

One rogue elf.

And a little bit of unpleasantness.

Chapter Fifteen

I fiddle with the key in the lock of my front door, grateful for the little porch roof shielding me from the wind. Snowflakes swirl under the warm glow of the porch light, catching on the wreath ribbon and the brass bell like confetti that forgot the party was over. It would feel like stepping into a Christmas card if only my brain weren’t full of rogue elves and glitter with an attitude.

With a final twist, the door unlocks. I push inside and let the familiar scent of pine and cinnamon wrap around me like a comforting hug before kicking off my boots by the door.

The living room is small, with a tartan couch that’s seen too many movie nights and a fireplace I rarely use because it smokes more than it warms. Fairy lights frame the windows, and my slightly crooked Christmas tree stands proudly in the corner, decked out in mismatched ornaments collected over the years.

This house isn’t much, but it’s home.

Its normally welcoming quiet feels too still after the day I’ve had.

I let out a long sigh and collapse onto the couch. My legs ache from running around all day. My thigh still stings where that elf hit me, but my mind is far worse. It’s a chaotic swirl of reindeer stampedes, naff Christmas decorations, rogue elves, and—most frustratingly—vampires with dark hair and silver eyes.

Nick Draven is a problem. More than usual. He’d said nice things on the way home—sweet, even—but apparently my traitorous brain wanted more. Like hand-holding. Or that steady, reassuring weight of his hand on my thigh as I drove.

A knock at the door makes my stomach flip. The last time someone knocked on my door unexpectedly, Nick had shown up with some sarcastic quip and a load of trouble. It couldn’t possibly be more rogue elves. Surely not? They don’t seem the type to knock before attacking, but I suppose you never know. So to be safe, I grab a magazine from the coffee table and roll it up.

“Who is it?” I ask, pressing my ear to the door.

“It’s me, Holly.”

My shoulders slump as I recognize Frank’s voice.

I hesitate for a moment before pulling the door open. He’s standing on the porch, his cheeks ruddy from the cold and a thermos clutched in his hands. Snow clings to the brim of his knitted hat, and he gives me a sheepish smile. The thermos hisses gently, promising cocoa; his snowman gloves glimmer with tiny sewn-in fairy sequins as if they’re pleased to see me.

I don’t usually get visitors this late, but this week hasn’t exactly been normal. I brace for bad news, but Frank just smiles. Easy. Unworried. Like he’s not here on official business.

“Frank?” I step aside, holding the door open. “What are you doing here?”

“I figured you might need someone to talk to,” he says, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “And I need to check in about the Winter Wonderland.”