Night Critters (Collection) (26 page)

"Learn to be impulsive, you big furry idiot!” she'd told him. Charm wasn't known for her tact.

He was trying, damn it. That was why he'd sent his chauffeur home, donned a Santa suit—God help him if any of his colleagues saw him like this—and was now on his way to an orphan's group home on Christmas Eve to deliver presents to a bunch of kids who weren't even there. He pushed the accelerator and eased the car back on the road.

The Lucky Charms Group Home stood isolated in the middle of his project. He'd cleaned out the rest of the rundown subdivision surrounding the group home. In its place would be a planned community with modern homes, a shopping complex, community center, and even a library and post office. The fifty-year-old one-story ranch, owned by Charm and his brother, was the only remnant of the old neighborhood.

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse
. At least he hoped the children were all nestled in their beds. This shit was still new to him, but damn, he felt strangely good.

JR parked and nervously jingled the keys, feeling very awkward in the padded costume. According to Charm, who was on her honeymoon with Lucky, the kids were at an all-night sleepover party in town. All JR had to do was lug in the presents, meet the caterer bringing the feast for the kids, and leave to spend another lonely holiday. Funny how you could be lonely in the middle of a werewolf pack, even if you were the heir presumptive to the pack leader. He wished he could linger to see the kids open their presents. Children had a joy for life he'd lost somewhere along the way.

He first grabbed the big red sack from the back seat, which contained the smaller presents. He'd worn the suit, despite assurances that no one would be there, just in case one of the kids caught him. No spoiling their little illusions. If he hurried, he could get back home in time to watch the old Rankin/Bass classic,
Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer
. He was a sucker for that movie show, though no one would believe it of him. Next year, he'd bring the disc with him and watch it with the kids here. Yeah, that was the solution. Holiday specials and cookies until they nodded off and were put to bed. Damn, why did Christmas only come once a year? He'd make a note in his planner to return next year with a holiday movie marathon and all the trimmings.

The key turned easily in the lock, and JR stepped quietly inside. The tree twinkled from its position on the wall opposite from where he stood. He hefted the bag and made one step toward his goal.

The clear
ka-chink
of ammunition loading into the chamber of a rifle stopped him cold.

Phaedra held the big rifle steady on the back of the sofa and hoped the intruder couldn't see her trembling with fear. Her laptop hummed quietly in the silence, and she prayed it wouldn't chime an announcement of new mail or something. She'd freak and pull the trigger. “There's nothing here to steal. Leave. Now. Or we'll see if a silver bullet loaded with holy water can stop just about anything."

The large, indistinct figure remained frozen in his tracks. “I'm not here to steal. I'm here to deliver presents. Charm told me there would be no kids here tonight.” The low, masculine voice was at least properly respectful and educated.

Phaedra narrowed her eyes, but didn't lower the gun yet. He'd invoked the owner's name. He might be legit. “There's a light switch on the wall to your left."

The lights blazed up, and a tall man wearing a Santa suit spread his arms wide and low in the classic “I'm harmless” gesture. “Um... Ho-ho-ho?"

The snicker rose from her core and bubbled out. His big brown eyes twinkled with humor, and a doll one of the kids had particularly begged for peeked from the top of the red sack at his feet like one of Santa's elves. There was something charming about a guy who'd put on a Santa suit and deliver presents to orphans. She lowered the rifle, but didn't put it back in the special locked case yet. How she'd gotten the safety lock off in the dark was still a mystery to her. Dumb luck, she guessed. “Okay, you pass."

The big guy breathed a sigh of relief and picked up the sack. He looked around furtively. “I thought the place would be empty by now."

Phaedra shook her head. On cue, her laptop chimed for new email. “No, I just took the night off to get my college thesis cleaned up."

"Santa” blew out a breath. “Good. This beard thing itches.” He took it off, revealing his chiseled chin and smoothly shaven face. A face she knew very well.

Phaedra's lip curled and her fists clenched. Now she was sorry she hadn't shot first and asked questions later. She'd have happily danced on his grave. She put as much hatred and anger in her voice as she could manage without her magic giving him a donkey's ears and tail. “JR Thornton."

"Guilty as charged.” JR picked up the sack and started distributing the toys beneath the tree, adding to the meager stack already waiting. He sighed again. “What did I do to you?"

Phaedra changed form to her true self and flittered over to perch on one branch of the Christmas tree, deliberately eclipsing the twinkling LED light with her own. “I used to live in the forest here, that's what, you asshole."

JR's eyes widened, and he sat down on his rump right on the hardwood floor, the latest hot commodity cartoon character action figure in his hands. “Holy shit. A wood fairy. There were fairies in that forest?"

"My whole fam-damn-ily! Shithead.” Phaedra shook her fist at the most handsome and evil man she'd ever known. Here she was face to face with him, and she was going to give him a piece of her mind. “We were taking care of the termite and Dutch elm disease problem, thank you very much! But nooo! Mr. Powerful Werewolf had to come in with his bulldozers and destroy the good part with the diseased!” She stamped her tiny foot so hard the branch bounced. “And our homes, I might add!"

JR opened his mouth to say something, but a firm knock at the door interrupted.

Phaedra snarled in frustration and zipped off to answer. She changed back to a human-sized form and opened the front door.

Three men, each carrying a huge pile of boxes with one of the local catering company logos in bright red on the side, nearly bowled her over in their haste to get out of the cold and deliver their burdens.

"Merry Christmas!"

"Here's your order, Mr. Thornton."

"Where would you like us to put this stuff?"

Phaedra looked at their burdens and managed a weak “Kitchen, please.” She shut the door hurriedly and ran to keep up with their questions as to where to put the perishable items, did she want the cakes and pies on the table, and “Oh, yeah, here's your instructions for warming the ham and fixin's for tomorrow, ma'am."

Efficiently, they did as she told them, buried her under a pile of the instruction papers, and set the most beautiful floral display—no poisonous poinsettias, thanks!—on the table where the children ate. Then they accepted their generous tips from Evil Santa and left, cheerfully arguing over which guy had the most toys to put together when they got home to their families.

Phaedra took her time arranging the food in the fridge and tried to figure this whole thing out. Why was JR Thornton delivering presents and feasts to orphans on Christmas Eve? “Don't you have glamorous parties to attend so you can plot whose lives you can destroy next, Mr. Thornton?"

"Please call me JR. And your name is?” Mr. Fanged and Toothsome—cripes, could she stop looking at him like he was a giant pile of chocolate?—finished stuffing the last pitifully handmade stocking above the mantle.
And filled all the stockings and turned, the Jerk
. Her traitorous mind changed the words to the old poem.

"Phaedra.” She folded her arms and remained in human form. No tiny fairy was intimidating. “Okay, you've done your little good deed for the year. Now get out."

"I'd like to do more.”
His eyes—how they twinkled
! He remained standing by the corner of the fireplace and casually put one elbow on the mantle to lean against, like Santa had suddenly gotten very suave and sophisticated. And handsome.
His dimples, how merry
! He did have dimples, too.

Phaedra was so interested in telling her traitorous mind to shut up, she was momentarily confused. Her feet were freezing, and she closed the refrigerator door. “More? More evil things?"

The charming dimples disappeared, and the big brown eyes turned as sad as an old hound's. No smile now. “No, more good deeds. I've a lot of making up to do."

For a few moments, Phaedra felt guilt for being a buzz-kill on Christmas Eve. The big guy in a Santa suit looked like she'd busted his bubble, poor—Evil bastard! “Oh, you're a prime manipulator, aren't you? I almost felt sorry for you there for a moment. Yeah, right. Sure, you want to do nice things, buster. What, like hike your furry leg up against another tree to give it a good watering before you cut it down?"

"Ouch. For a beautiful fairy, you have a razor-sharp tongue.” Now JR stepped away from the mantle and walked toward her until he shook his finger under her nose. “As a matter of fact, I have a very long list of —” He shut up mid-sentence and looked chagrined. “Damn. Charm told me I needed to learn to be impulsive and let go of my plans and lists, but I don't know how."

Now if there was one thing a fairy understood, it was giving into impulse, and she had a big one. She'd pay for it later. “Yeah? It's as easy as doing what you want to do without worrying about consequences. Like this.” She put her arms around JR's neck and gave him a smacking kiss on the lips. “See? I may hate you for what you did to my home, but that's a tribute to how handsome you are."

His perfect black eyebrows tried hard to mingle with his equally dark hairline. How did he make his brown eyes twinkle like that? His hands clamped on both her upper arms. “Like this?"

With a wink of his eye and a twist of his head
and suddenly Phaedra had plenty to dread. She deserved to be yanked off her toes and swooped down on. Her gasp of surprise was reflex. Unfortunately, that left her mouth open for the hardest, most demanding kiss that had ever fizzled her brain. Which promptly melted.

Cernunnos, but JR could kiss. Anyone could rub lips, but very few knew how to make a simple kiss into an art. Yeah, just the right amount of friction. Nibbles with just the perfect force. Oh, baby! To hell with consequences. To hell with her thesis. Even her image of JR as the most hated and evil man on the planet broke into a thousand motes. Evil people didn't care about how their partners felt. They just took. She tried to pull away and clear her head. No matter how much she wanted JR, she hated him, too. At least, she'd thought so a few minutes ago. “This is so wrong. I'm supposed to hate you."

JR nibbled on her jawline as if he had all night. Well, okay, he did. Big, mean... oh, my! Was that his cock or an anaconda pressed against her body? “Hate me later. No, that's wrong of me, too. You cloud a wolf's senses.” He let go of her and stepped back a pace. “I promise you I'll do my best to make things right by you and your family. I can prove it in the morning, if you wish."

While not full thought-sensors, fairies could read truth. Phaedra recognized pure conviction in JR. He was sure he had a method already in place to “make things right” for the Fair Folk who had once graced the forest here. Whether his restitution would satisfy her and her family remained to be seen, but he believed. Belief counted highly for her. Her heart and body cried out for a night of pleasure with this werewolf, and she saw no reason not to indulge. “I'll take that promise. You owe me and mine big, fur-face."

"You're a handful enough for me.” He took her hand and led her to the small sitting area in front of the fireplace. His nearly empty sack crinkled when he moved it, and a sly smile lit his face. “It's said fairies like sweets. Is it true?” He reached in and pulled out a long, thick peppermint stick, striped like a candy cane. “I know I do. I brought one for each of the employees. This one is yours."

Oh, she knew what to do with the candy, and more than he probably expected. Fairies only looked sweet and innocent, but they were nature elementals, and nature meant sex, among other things. “I love peppermint sticks.” She expertly peeled off the wrapping and deliberately took the sweet length in her mouth, knowing what images her actions would conjure in Santa Wolf's mind.

His eyes hazed and the lids drooped down while JR watched her deliberately perform fellatio on the candy. “Evil fairy. You certainly know how to make me howl without even touching me."

Mission accomplished, Phaedra pulled the candy out of her mouth so she could talk and laid the stick on a side table. “Yeah, Santa Paws? Well, you won't get to howl more until you peel out of your suit. Be lively and quick, ‘cause I want to suck St. Nick."

He spoke not a word but went straight to his work
. Accurate description of how fast a man could get out of costume and padding when he had the right motivation, even if he choked on his own laughter at her parody of the old holiday poem. Boots, belt, coat, and padding sailed around the room
as dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly
. Her mind would not stop giving her lines of the poem, not even when she had her focus on something much more immediate.

Phaedra knelt and attacked his cock even before JR could do more than get the red pants around his ankles. The remains of peppermint still in her mouth would stimulate every nerve ending he had on an already sensitive cock, and she intended to torture him for as long as the mint lasted.

JR moaned and swayed, with his head thrown back in a silent bay at the moon. His right hand touched her head, as if seeking balance. He was completely at her mercy.

She could have bitten him, had she not preferred better plans for the delicious and long sausage in her mouth, harder and better tasting than any old dried thing she got from mail-order catalogs to go with crumbling cheese and cardboard crackers in a box.

JR's moans would have satisfied any girl's heart, he was so completely in her power. He didn't care how ridiculous he looked, flung back on the sofa, arms akimbo, dressed only in a Santa hat. His trust in her was absolute, and nothing said more about him than that to Phaedra. “My God, Phaedra! My whole dick is tingling. Is that the peppermint from the candy cane?"