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“Until another demon group comes and tries to take the North Pole from us,” Gus grumbles, always a downer. Seriously, if Gus were born human, instead of being made by the devil herself, he would be the type that would wear all black and sit in a dark room and brood. Tattoos, piercings, jars of blood… He’sthattype of broody. Actually, he has all those things already.
“Don’t be a fookin’ wank stain,” Nico says, always stirring shit up. Gus’s eyes flare brightly in challenge, looking seconds away from strangling the frustration demon.
“Enough!” I move to step between them and release a heavy sigh. I swear I feel a migraine coming on, which is ridiculous, because demons can’t get headaches. But those two… “We need to move in the cover of night. Is everybody ready?”
And that…
That, my friends, is when everything goes toshit.
Before any of them can respond, the ground beneath us begins to shake, almost as if an earthquake is rippling through the ground. Bryn doesn’t even bother to try and stay upright, immediately falling to his ass with a bored expression on his face. Nico grins as if this is all a big game, while Gus’s scowl deepens. Only Dem seems to understand the urgency of the situation as he glances at me, his black wings unfurling from his back. They stretch wide, the razor-sharp talons at the top looking especially menacing and deadly.
“What the fuck?” His eyes narrow at the figure approaching from the town, moving at a pace that I would almost describe as indolent. Bored. As if we’re beneath his notice and not a threat in the slightest.
I take a moment to see a muscular older gentleman dressed in a red, crisp suit with a pressed shirt and gold cufflinks. His white hair is artfully styled away from his arresting face and proud cheekbones, and his beard has been trimmed delicately. He swings around a cane as if he has all the fucking time in the world. As if he’s just taking a leisurely stroll down Candy Cane Road. I’m not into dudes at all, but he’s a serious DILF.
“Motherfooker…” Nico breathes, his accent kicking up a notch in fear.
“Watch your tone, boy,” the man says snidely, a mischievous twinkle in his jolly eyes. “Or else I’ll put you on the naughty list.”
Motherfucker is right.
Santa.
Holy crap. One of the most powerful of all of the archangels. He’s built an entire empire for God and goodness and walking the disgustingly straight and narrow path. My mouth dries out as I see him up close for the first time.
“But,” Santa continues as my wings extend from my back and my claws lengthen, “it appears you’ve already been bad boys.” He holds his cane up, and at the top, I can see what looks like a snow globe. Only instead of artificial snow and a pretty display, there’s what appears to be a ball of magic. Bright red sparks interspersed with mossy green—Santa’s magical signature.
He’s still fucking beaming a smile at us, as if this is the most exciting thing that has ever happened to him. Hell, maybe it is.
But I don’t get a chance to fight back, to defend my murder, when he aims the cane in our direction…
And all Hell breaks loose.
