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I get to the doorway of Dad’s office and pause just outside, staring in at my disheveled, abused, still-sleeping father.
“Joy.” Dem’s voice pulls me out of my head. “Don’t overthink it. Just heal him.”
“Yeah, it’s all going to be just fine,” Cal reassures me.
I have to believe that. Whether it’s true or not, it’s what I need to believe right now. I lift the cane and hold it out towards Dad. As if it can sense Santa, a rush of magic immediately leaks from the ball at the top, this time, a sparkling gold whirlwind that surrounds my father, hiding him from sight momentarily before ceasing and revealing good ole Saint Nick, looking as rosy and bright as I’ve ever seen him.
He pushes up off the floor.
I rush forward and envelop him in a hug. “Dad,” I whisper into his newly restored red coat. “I was so scared. I missed you.”
Dad pulls back and looks at me, his eyes scanning the office. “Joy!”
I try to speak, but he pulls away and bolts down the hall before I can get out another word. I follow more slowly, only to find him standing just inside the doors of the workshop, a look of sadness marring his features. His forehead wrinkles as he surveys the destruction before his eyes settle back onto me.
“I’m sorry, Dad. We tried so hard, but they fought back and I’d dropped the cane in a snowbank—” I struggle to explain, the words tripping my tongue up as I try to figure out what I can say to erase that look of disappointment from his face.
His eyes fly to the cane in my hand, as if he’s noticing it for the first time. “But…wasn’t it broken? Didn’t the Christmas cane break?”
“I built a new one,” I tell him.
Dad’s eyes get as round as the sugar cookies he always prefers me to make. “You built a new one?”
I nod. “I went to the divine realm and asked around. Got the ingredients and just—”
“Have I been out for a year?” Dad puts a hand to his head.
“No, goofy, just like two days,” I tell him.
“Two days! You built a Christmas cane in two days!” Dad’s jaw just about hits the floor.
I’m a little surprised he’s so focused on the cane when I really thought that the destruction around us—or the demons standing behind me—would be a bigger deal. “The battle in the workshop got a little out of hand, but we—”
“Where are the cherubs?” Dad asks.
“I sent the ones who were tied up to go tell the village everything is okay.”
“You mean they weren’t helping you?” Dad scrubs a hand over his face. “You did this alone?”
“What? No!” I spin around, only to see the demons aren’t lined up behind me. “Guys?” I call out. “Guys?”
The demons step out from behind the rubble. Cal, of course, is the first to speak. “We thought we’d give you a minute of privacy.”
Behind me, Dad launches to his feet and reaches for the cane. “Watch out, Joy! There are more—”
“Dad,” I take a step back from him, worried that if he gets the cane, he might turn my allies, my mates, into Barbies.
He quickly moves to stand between me and the demons, his huge white wings ripping through his red coat.
I sigh as I start introductions, which look like they’re going to go about as well as the time I introduced Dad to a narwhal shifter who liked The Clash. “You remember Comet, Cupid, Dasher, Dancer, and Blitzen, right?” I ask casually. “Apparently, they’re demons you turned into reindeer several years back.”
“How’d they become human?” Dad demands.
I’m not really sure what happened there to be honest. So I skip over that question and move on to the important part. “They helped me turn those other dipshits into dolls.”
“Language,” Dad chastises automatically, but his eyes don’t stray from them to me. Instead, he’s giving them his meanest, most badass glare. “Joy, honey, did they try to get you to make a deal with them? What did they ask you for? You didn’t make a deal, did you?” His fearful questions spill out one after another.
“No, they didn’t ask for anything.”
