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‘Thanks, Eve. I appreciate that.’
‘Don't mention it. So, Boss,’ she says turning her attention to Nick. ‘Everything is ready for you. I left a clean uniform in your bedroom. The reindeer will be hitched up in a bit. We’ve checked the sleigh a dozen times. It’s clear. We will go over it again, just before you leave.’
‘Thanks. Don't fancy having my ass blown to pieces again. I’ll just grab a quick shower then head to the meeting room.’
Eve grimaces as she looks at the pair of them. ‘Might I suggest thirty minutes? You’ve got time. There is quite a lot of blood on the two of you and, if I’m not mistaken, you have Púca guts or something similar in your hair. It’s not a good look, Boss. Especially not for Santa. And no offence, you both stink of rotting Púca too. There is no chance in hell I'm sitting in an enclosed space with you for a meeting.’
Scarlett sniffs her arms and gags. The blood smells like rotten eggs. ‘Oh God. That’s foul!’
Eve nods to the clean clothes. ‘That was my subtle way of telling you. I’ll leave you to get cleaned up. We’ll be in the meeting room in thirty minutes. Scarlett, just throw your clothes in the chute in the bathroom. We’ll disinfect them for you. We’re well used to that with this one,’ she adds, nodding to Nick.
She smiles at Scarlett again, then leaves.
‘I’ll leave you to it,’ Damon says, moving towards the door. ‘I’ve got things to do. People to scare and all that fun stuff.’
‘Do not scare any of my staff!’
Damon’s smile is less than reassuring as he fades into a cloud of smoke and disappears.
‘Fucker never listens to me.’ Nick locks his door, then turns around and smiles. ‘Hi.’
‘Hi again.’
‘You okay? You’ve had a lot thrown at you the last few hours. Over the last few days actually. Do you need to freak out? Scream? Anything like that?’
She absolutely should be freaking out. Or even screaming as he suggested. Any normal person would, given everything she’s seen the last few days. But that couldn’t be further from her mind.
Everything is so bizarre and unbelievable, but with him here, it somehow makes sense. Even Damon and the rest of the team makes sense now she’s here. She understands what Nick meant when he spoke of his first days here. There’s a feel about the place. Something instantly comforting and calming. ‘I think I should be able to restrain myself for the moment.’
He wraps his arms around her and kisses her. ‘I can’t believe how great you’re being about all this.’
‘You’re Santa and your best friend is the Boogeyman. Oh, and Cupid flew me back to Lapland, after none other than Triton himself put a protective water wall around us. What’s not to be great about? It’s all perfectly normal.’
He laughs loudly. ‘When you say it like that, I barely believe it myself.’ He goes over to the table and pours himself a coffee from the pot Eve left. ‘Want one?’
‘I’m good, thanks.’ She goes to sit on one of the chairs, having second thoughts when she gets a whiff of the Púca blood on her clothes.
Nick drinks his coffee, his light blue eyes peering at her over the rim of his mug. ‘Come on. Out with it.’
‘Out with what?’
‘You’re thinking about something. And that’s coming from Nick - not Santa. What is it?’
‘Was Damon right? About someone targeting you.’
He grimaces, then places his cup back on the table so he can wrap his arms around her. ‘I’m the leader of the group, so I’ll always have a slightly larger target on my back. It’s not the first time I’ve been attacked, and it probably won’t be the last. But I can handle myself, and so can everyone here. We train a hell of a lot. We’re really fucking good at what we do. I promise it’s nothing to worry about.’
‘So why is Damon worried? Because it’s obvious he is, and I doubt much could unsettle the Boogeyman.’
‘He’s being cautious. It’s what he does. We’ve been fighting for centuries and I’ve led the team for a little over three decades. I can look after myself. We all can.’
‘Oh I know that. I witnessed all of you in action first hand. Who knew Santa and Cupid could be so vicious.’
‘Only when we’re provoked. The rest of the time we’re reasonably nice.’ His grin is mischievous as his hands run up her back. ‘Most of the time.’
He’s trying to distract her, and she won’t fight him. Going over how worried she is for him and the others won’t help. All she can do is trust him. And it’s not as if she has any say in his life.
‘Stop thinking about it,’ he says, tracing his fingers along her skin.
