Page 111 of Christmas Magic

Chapter Nineteen

Lucian’s steel blade flashed in the light from the floats.

The elves shrieked and stumbled away from Santa.

Old Saint Nick’s eyes widened, and Lucian smirked. Santa should be afraid. The fine sword had gotten Lucian through the Crusades and helped save his life countless times.

Yet, even as he tightened his fingers on the hilt, an image of Molly flickered in his mind: Molly, looking concerned. She’d tell him to stand down and put the blade away.

No.

Why Molly should appear in his thoughts now, he did not know. He fully intended to avenge Cora.

Sweat glistening on his face, Santa raised his gloved hands. “Ho ho ho. That’s an impressive weapon.”

“The finest blade I’ve owned.”

Nervous laughter bubbled from Santa, and his gaze darted behind Lucian. “This is a joke, right?”

“Should someone call the police?” a nervous-sounding woman asked.

“Nah. It’s a publicity stunt,” a man said.

“Santa from Sherwood Forest long ago,” another woman called.

“Gotta be a joke.”

Even the elves were now chuckling.

Lucian scowled. Perhaps the costume made him appear less than intimidating. “Why do you think I am jesting?”

“Ho ho ho. Santa doesn’t own a sword. Everyone knows that.”

Lucian’s scowl deepened.

“I’m an expert on the North Pole,” Old Saint Nick added with another nervous laugh. “The elves in my workshop make toys, not swords. Right?”

“Yep,” one of the elves said.

More chuckling came from onlookers nearby.

Bollocks.

“I challenge you, Santa, here and now, to settle the matter of Cora’s honor.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” spluttered Old Saint Nick.

“Lucian,” Cora called.

He heard her approaching him. “Stay back,” he commanded.

“Time to call the cops?” a man called.

“I’m recording on my cell phone,” a woman added.

Lucian glared at Santa, who was drying his sweaty face with his sleeve. “Choose your weapon.”

“Ho ho ho. Very funny.”