Chapter 7
“S orry I can’t make it home for Christmas, sis.”
Lily leaned her head against her cell, trapping it between her ear and shoulder so she had her hands free to finish up her dinner. “I’d sure like to see you, bub, but I understand you can’t get off the rig. No harm, except you’ll miss Betty’s Christmas cookies.”
“Ugh, don’t go reminding me. Food is shit here and I don’t want to think on what I’m missing.”
Lily laughed at her brother then tapped her wooden spoon against the lip of the saucepan, letting the plain marinara she’d thrown on the stove from a jar when she’d gotten home simmer. She’d drained the pasta in the sink already, and Betty had given her half a loaf of braided rosemary garlic bread, so she was good to go. Nothing fancy, but she rarely went fancy when she ate alone, which was most nights.
“Oh, do be on the lookout. I sent you presents. Might even be some things in there from Miss Betty.”
“That’s what I like to here, sis,” he said. “Otherwise, what’s going on with you? How you been?”
Lily couldn’t rightly answer. Not that she didn’t know the truth: things were hectic and stressful on many different levels. She didn’t want to lay that at her brother’s feet and make him feel even worse about not being home for the holidays. Instead, she put fake cheer in her voice when she said “Same old, same old, brother. Nothing ever new happens around these parts, which is how I like it.”
“The shop doing well?”
“Yep,” she popped out as she pulled down a plate and scooped up cutlery from her silverware drawer. This at least wasn’t a lie. She sold out her candles as quick as she could make them these days, or just about. She’d need to hustle the next few days to make sure she had enough for the Christmas Masquerade.
The Holly Hollow Christmas Masquerade was legend. It’d been going on for a few decades now, well before they revamped downtown. It used to be a rowdy time. Now, it catered to a more sophisticated crowd. Big time horse money had latched onto it some time ago, making it the in thing to do during the holiday season, and they continued to come, bringing in fancy dresses and much needed tourist dollars to her town.
Nothing for her to complain about because she made a mint during and after, but she still remembered the small community feel of the event in her youth, and then it maybe had a bit more cheer to it.
She also couldn’t complain about the magic still there: beautiful dresses and elaborate masks and good food and mulled wine. All of it had its own warmth to it. She was particularly happy to wear the wool dress Isa’s mama made for her. Which reminded her, she needed to finish up hot gluing beads to her half mask.
“Okey-doke, bub. I gotta get off here. Dinner’s waiting.”
“Right. Talk to you soon, sis. Love ya.”
“Love ya too,” she said before she slid the phone from the crook of her neck and caught it in a quick swooping movement. He’d already hung up, so she laid it face down on her counter, gathered her food, and made her way to the couch, where she did most of her eating.
Sitting crossed legged right in the middle of the cozy cushions, she flipped on the TV and went right to one of her supernatural comfort shows. Lily half watched as she slurped up sauced up spaghetti and dipped Betty’s beautiful bread in sauce. The show entertained her, as always, but she’d seen the episode umpteen times, so it didn’t keep her mind from wandering.
Lily thought on her issue with Ryan. She hated to admit it, even to herself, but he was a problem she needed to solve sooner rather than later. Hoping he’d take a hint and leave her alone wasn’t working. She couldn’t figure what to do, but she feared it’d get worse before it got better. Sadly, things like this often had to get worse before a woman could get the law to help her out.
A funny idea struck her: she had one man she couldn’t get rid of and another she couldn’t get to stick around.
Boreas, the monstrous god she wanted far more than any human man she’d ever known, wouldn’t give her the time of day. She felt it between them, a connection like a chain wrapping around her gut and pulling her toward him. She didn’t mind it. He seemed grumpy but solid. A good sort of man.
He, however, seemed to mind it a whole hell of a lot. Which she didn’t fully get. He thought something in that old book made her gravitate toward him. What he couldn’t get through his pretty but thick head was she didn’t care how it happened because she was happy it had. She wanted him, enjoyed the small bits of time she’d spent with him, appreciated all he’d done for her and knew he would continue to do for her. She just wanted more. She wanted everything from him. But she’d be damned if she’d beg any man for attention.
Ripping a hunk of bread off with her teeth she muttered, “Ain’t no way.” She’d have all of Boreas or she’d kick him to the curb. She wouldn't live her life pining for a god who seemed determined to not be a part of it. It might hurt like hell, but the respect she’d lose for herself—the same hard-won respect she’d gained after dropping Ryan all those years ago —was more precious than half-moments with someone.
T wo nights after her resolution, exhaustion wracked her body. She’d stayed late to finish up making candles for the Christmas Masquerade. She’d barely done it, but she’d done it. There were plenty of small and large tapers for the event and lots of stock to set out the night of and restock the next day.
Her hands ached from sharp splashes of wax during the long process, so she rubbed thick aloe on her skin for relief before she slipped out the back door. She shoved the key in the lock and turned it, giving a tired exhale. “What’re you doing here again, Boreas?” without even turning to him. She knew he stood behind her somewhere, smelled it right away on the wind. Felt his nearness pulling at her.
He was less than a foot away when she spun around, but she held her ground. His face was pinched, and he grabbed her hands before she could protest. She hissed in pain at the contact. Boreas tutted low in his throat. “What happened?”
He hadn’t answered her question, so she didn’t feel like answering his. “I’m tired and just want to go home.” She tried to pull her hands away, but his clawed fingers held them in their grip, though it was a gentle hold. Knowing he’d not let go unless she told him, she caved. “A hazard of the job, I’m afraid. Had to make a ton of candles, so I got burned by stray wax.”
“Why do you not wear gloves?”
“Oh, thank you, ol’ mighty god of wind. I’d never have thought of that without you.”
He paused his study of her hands to look up into her face, worry replaced by confusion. “Why do you seem so angry?”
“I don’t know, Boreas. Maybe it’s because you swoop in at night, make demands of me, and then fly off without me having any say in the matter.”
He stiffened, straightening his spine so he came to his full, impressive height. Lily stayed firmly in her anger and decided to ignore the tingling feeling of him looming over her with his height and bulk in the dark cold winter night. “You don’t understand–”
“You think I don’t understand, what with my delicate human woman brain and all.”
“That is not what I meant, Lily.”
She tried again to twist her hands free, but they really did hurt, so it was a half-hearted attempt at best. “Then what do you mean? Because from where I’m standing, you’ve explained your position to me, and I’ve told you it’s bullshit.”
“My reservations are not bullshit,” he said, heat now tingeing his voice for the first time.
“Oh yeah they are, especially as they give me no say in my own life.” He blinked in surprise and she kept right on going. “That’s right, mister mighty god man. You’re doing to me exactly what you say you’re trying to protect me from. You say I had no choice, but I’m standing here, telling you I choose you, and you straight up ignore what I’m saying.”
“But the book…”
“Gods damn the book!” she yelled in his face, going in close. “It’s a stupid ass book. Might be magic or whatever, but it can’t control what I think or do, no matter what you think. I control that. Maybe it brought me to you, brought us together, but nothing more.”
He rocked back on his heels, like he’d been hit clear in the chest with her words. After several beats he whispered, “I am sorry.”
“What?” In her experience, men rarely apologized, especially when they were wrong.
“I am sorry, Lily. All you say is true. The book… there are things you do not fully know, but it cannot manipulate any being’s thoughts or actions without their consent. Feelings are a different story, or may possibly be. The intricacy of emotions versus thoughts are complex. Nevertheless, I should have listened to you, rather than staying frozen in my own understanding of the situation. For this, I am sorry.”
“Well… okay then.” Lily deflated, her anger flowing out of her body in a quick stream. Boreas gave her a tentative smile, one fang flashing in the light over her back door, and she melted more.
“May I help?” he asked, lifting her hands slightly to indicate what he meant.
“If you can, have at it.”
Boreas turned her hands over in his giant mitts, studying the splotchy red marks. In all honesty, her hands were mostly immune to it at this point, like a chef being toughened by basic burns, but when she made too many candles or worked for too long, she’d end up with at least a few sensitive spots.
Boreas hefted a breath, and she felt the wind rush into him, as if going home, before he bent low to blow across her hands. A chilly wind wrapped around her, cooling the burns better than the aloe cream ever could. She sighed in relief, and he straightened, a happy light dancing in his ice blue eyes.
“Thank you. Feels mighty good.” The wind continued to wrap around her hands, gently relieving all the ache there. Boreas nodded in acknowledgement and took a step back from her.
“So…” She was unsure where they stood now. He’d helped her once again, which he always did, but he’d also apologized for his previous behavior. She wondered if it meant he wanted to see more of her. The first excuse she grasped onto to spend time together popped up pretty damn quick. "There's this big Christmas party in the middle of town this coming Wednesday. Would you like to come with me?”
“I do not know if I can do that, Lily.”
“But–”
He stopped her with a hand in the air. “You were correct in your assessment of the situation, and I am going to make myself more accustomed to the idea of you having choice in the matters between us.” All good to hear, but he kept on going. “However, I am as I am. What I am is typically not accepted by groups of humans, even if a single human can do so.”
Lily considered it. He’d always met her in private, in the dark. Made sense if he worried about what others might see and think, even do, especially given the bloody history he’d hinted at before. He wasn’t exactly wrong, either. People were often good, kind, accepting. Groups of people on the other hand––they could be volatile and unpredictable. All of history’d proven that more than a time or two.
“If we become something, is this how it will always be between us? Stolen moments in the dark?” It made her sad to consider such a life.
He stepped back into her, hugging her to him so his warmth soaked in deep in a few long beats. “My kind has a long and sordid relationship with humanity, Lily. You must understand this if we are to continue together.”
“I get it, I do, but it seems harder than it has to be.” Lily also didn’t want to think badly of her neighbors, most of whom she’d known her whole life. She’d hope they’d see who he was, and who he was to her, and accept him. Then again, the Christmas Masquerade filled up with lots of people, not just her neighbors in Holly Hollow.
“I am uncertain how I may proceed because I have always kept myself apart from humans. I can investigate, but I cannot give you a promise.”
“Even if I ask nicely?” She fluttered her lashes at him in an exaggerated way, hoping some humor might alleviate the stress etched in the lines of his usually smooth face.
He did crack a fanged smile, which turned hungry in an instant, and the heat of the moment blossomed despite the cold wind he still twirled around her hands. “My Lily,” he whispered. “How you surprise me.”
She wanted to give him surprises every day for the rest of his life, and the idea startled her. Mainly because as soon as she thought it she knew it to be true. Instead of dwelling, she gave him another surprise. She went up on her tippy toes and gave him a quick peck on the lips.
Well, she’d intended it to be a quick peck, but as soon as her lips met his, he gripped her in a tight hug and dragged her up his body, taking her mouth in a searing, demanding kiss. This was no sweet peck. Heat, want, and need welled up between them. She forgot about her sore hands and gripped the back of his head, digging her fingers into the silky white strands of his hair.
He growled down her throat, bending her back as he stroked his tongue across her own. She gasped at the contact then felt bereft. Suddenly he stood a few feet away, much like he’d done when they’d almost kissed in her car. Except she knew his taste now, and she didn’t want to let him go.
“Boreas,” she moaned, all the lust coursing through her veins making her voice husky.
He bit out a curse in some other language and panted, but did not return to her. “No, Lily. I must see if I can be a part of the life you wish to lead.”
“Do what now?” She wasn’t stupid, but the kiss had made her a little lust drunk, so she had a hard time following.
Boreas stepped closer, reaching out a hard to trace a sharp claw down her cheek. “Your beautiful flush is something I wish to see again,” he whispered. “However, I must first discover if I can give you what you ask of me.”
“The Christmas Masquerade isn’t all that important,” she admitted.
“No, Lily. It is more than a singular event. If we are to truly be together, such questions will continue to arise between us. I must know if I can be what you need. You must be assured I can be in your life in all ways. You, my Lily, deserve more than half-measures.”
“But you don’t know if you can?”
His shoulders fell when he answered, “No. I do not know for certain.”
A crack snaked right down her heart, but she understood. He didn’t want to start something he couldn’t finish. Sucked, but might also be the best way for them to move forward. “I hope I see you at the masquerade. I hope-- I hope I see you again.” She had to say it, because in the moment it felt like if he could not find an acceptable answer she might not ever see him again. The possibility of such a thing, the uncertainty, made her even more heartsick.
“So do I, my Lily.”
Wind kissed her lips and the god shot into the air, off to find whatever answers he needed to give her what she wanted.