Demon's Vengeance The Complete - Jocelynn Drake Page 0,5
nothing good.
CHAPTER 2
“Gage, this is embarrassing,” Trixie complained as she stepped out of the tiny bathroom at Asylum and walked down the short hall toward me. I twisted in the tattooing chair I had been lounging in to look at her as she glared at me with her hands on her slender hips.
Dressed in green tights and a green-and-red tunic, she was the classic image of Santa’s elf, right down to her green shoes with bells on the curled toes. She’d dropped her usual glamour disguise in favor of her true appearance of blonde hair, green eyes, and pointed ears. The outfit might have looked silly, but she was as sexy as hell.
“You look great!” I shouted, clapping my hands together.
“I look ridiculous! What idiot got the idea an elf would dress like this? And I’m supposed to live at the North Pole wearing an outfit like this?” She stomped over to where I was sitting, the sound of little bells ringing with her every movement. “I’d freeze my ass off.”
“And it’s such a cute ass,” I teased, but she didn’t crack a smile. I was seriously pushing my luck. Clearing my throat, I ducked my head, dropping my gaze to the cracked linoleum floor. “It’s an old folktale. Maybe someone from the Winter Court got drunk and was sneaking through a village with a fat man in a red suit.”
“Doubtful,” she said as the back door opened and shut, announcing that Bronx had finished getting changed in the apartment above the tattoo parlor. The troll appeared a couple seconds later in the tattooing room wearing a bright red suit with furry white trim.
“Whoa,” I said, sitting back to take in his appearance. He was the biggest Santa Claus I had ever seen.
“Damn, Santa,” Trixie murmured. “You got big.”
“Ha. Ha. Ha,” Bronx blandly said, looking about as thrilled in his costume as Trixie.
“Actually, it’s Ho! Ho! Ho!” I corrected.
The troll turned his narrowed gaze on me. “I can understand how Trixie and I ended up in these outfits, but why aren’t you dressed up, when this was your idea?”
“Don’t worry, Santa. I’ve got your sack to carry,” I said.
Bronx hooked his thumbs on the wide black belt wrapped around his pillow-padded stomach. “I don’t think you’re man enough to handle my sack,” he drawled, his wide grin partially hidden behind a large white beard.
“Oh, funny,” I said.
“Ho! Ho! Ho!” Bronx said in his best Santa imitation, which was pretty damn impressive.
Trixie gave an unexpected snort of laughter and I flipped them both off, which got Bronx truly laughing as well.
“Now that everyone is in the Christmas spirit, let’s get going. The kids should already be arriving.” Pushing out of the chair, I handed Trixie her coat before we followed Bronx down the hall and out the back door to where I had parked my SUV. Earlier in the afternoon, I had packed it full of toys, food, and clothing donations I had collected from the other shops near Asylum.
Shortly after All Hallows’ Eve, the Christmas spirit kicked me hard in the gut. It was most likely a need for something positive after I had sold my soul to the Towers in September. I organized a massive collection of food, winter clothes, and toys with all the shops and restaurants near Asylum. Tonight was the Feast of St. Nicholas when Santa Claus would appear at a special dinner to give away the toys.
“Do you think Bronx’s size will scare the kids?” Trixie asked from behind me once we were in the road.
I glanced over at the troll beside me dressed in red. He’d initially balked at taking the passenger seat but it was more comfortable for him over the backseat because of his size. My battered SUV just wasn’t made to accommodate trolls. “Maybe some of the really young ones, but most will just see him as a gateway to toys.”
The drive to James Garfield High School was relatively short and the parking lot was nearly full when we arrived, but we managed to find an open spot behind the school, near the loading docks for the cafeteria. As I walked around to open the trunk, a door to the school opened, throwing down a bright square of light that outlined a thin little man in black.
“Gage?” the man asked.
“It’s me, Father Barnes. I’ve got Santa Claus and his helper with me,” I called, stepping into a nearby pool of light from a parking lamp. “I’ve also got another load of